by Taryn Quinn
First he’d spanked her, and then she’d shared the family turkey. Matching china patterns had to be next, right? Even if this morning it had seemed as if he’d happily push them in that direction, tonight, post spanking, they’d entered a whole new realm.
She rubbed her sore temples. Jeez, men were so fucking complicated.
“Are you okay, dear? Would you like an aspirin?”
“I’m fine.” She offered Mrs. Norton a strained smile, well aware of the fact that Justin hadn’t chimed in with his concern. He’d pretty much made a career out of brooding at his plate. Between him and his stepfather, yet another gruff, mostly silent male, they made quite the pair.
But that wasn’t what Justin was really like at all. He’d never been like this before, not in college and not during the many hours they’d spent together at the bar. The new facets she’d seen of her steady, understanding friend the last couple of days were revelations—some amazing, some painful.
Either way, she had a lot more to learn about Justin Norton. And vice freaking versa, if he believed she’d cry and cringe away from him because he’d given her exactly what they both needed during sex.
If that was even what his pulling away had been about. She wasn’t so sure about anything anymore.
“Let me help,” she suggested as his parents began clearing the table. Though Mr. Norton didn’t say much, he certainly hustled to help his wife cart away dishes.
“No, no, you’re a guest. Sit. Relax.” Mrs. Norton balanced a pie tin in the crook of her arm and smiled at her son, who was looking anywhere but at her. “We have new puppies. You’ll want to see them before you go.”
“Puppies?” She grinned and bumped her leg against Justin’s. He barely cracked a smile. It stunned her how much she wanted to find a way to make him happy again. “Let’s go look. Please.”
She half expected him to brush her off, but he nodded and set down his fork. He wiped his mouth with the napkin and rolled his shoulders, seemingly steeling himself for whatever was to come. “It’s getting late, so we probably should head out now.”
His mother paused in the doorway and bobbed her head. She’d probably guessed that he wanted to book it out of there, judging from her resigned expression. “Sure thing. The dogs are downstairs in the basement. I’ll show you.”
“That’s all right, Mom. I remember the way.” He stood and collected both his plate and Kylie’s. “Let me help you with these and—”
“No, just leave them.” Mrs. Norton stared at her son, her eyes strangely bright. “Happy Thanksgiving, both of you. It was lovely meeting you, Kylie. I really hope to see you again.”
Before she could figure out how to speak over the lump in her throat, Mrs. Norton had fled up the hall. Her husband murmured similar sentiments and followed.
Holy awkward.
Justin cleared his throat and held out his hand. “Let’s go see the puppies.”
Chest tight, she gazed up at him. God, she ached to give him a hug. She hated the bruised look of his eyes. Deep down inside he was still that little boy who feared for his mother, and she wished she could take his worry away.
Better than anyone, she knew she couldn’t. They both had their own messes to clean up, and sometimes there wasn’t anyone else to do the heavy lifting.
“Let’s go,” she echoed instead of everything else she yearned to say.
Like that it was the wrong time for them to try to make a go of it, but that didn’t mean she didn’t want to. That she got why he was afraid of hurting her. That he hadn’t. He wouldn’t.
Though she couldn’t state that for sure. He’d never harm her intentionally, she knew that much. Still, there were no guarantees, for either of them.
Together they walked through the house to the basement. The open floor plan helped show off the bits of Christmas cheer scattered throughout, and the charmingly worn furniture spoke of years of use. She wished she could stop to examine the quilted throw on the back of the couch—now she knew where Justin had gotten his—and the framed pictures that lined the hallway, yet she forced herself to keep up with Justin. Evidently he needed to get out of there quick, and she wasn’t about to stop him.
The expansive basement had been turned into a huge doggy playroom. There were six of them, four puppies and two older German shepherds Kylie assumed were their parents. They were regal, exuberant dogs with tons of energy, and by the time they left, she was laughing—and covered with silver-tipped, black fur. Even Justin smiled a few times as he cuddled one of the pups with a shiny blue dog tag that proclaimed his name was Gonzo.
“I want one of them,” she told him as they walked out to his Jeep almost an hour later. He kept pace beside her, accommodating her reduced speed due to her achy ankle. “They’re so dang cute.”
On the way out she’d said thanks again to Justin’s parents, and he’d said his own good-byes once she headed outside. He obviously didn’t want her to be privy to his family discussions, which was fine.
Or it would be, once she stopped getting her wittle feelings hurt.
“I saw you snuggling with Penny.” He held open the passenger door for her. “If you want, I’ll make sure Mom doesn’t sell her until you get settled,” he added as she slid into her seat.
For a minute, she allowed herself to get excited at the idea. She could find her own cute place, one where they’d let her have a dog. Nothing fancy, just somewhere she could start over. One with room for a nice big bed for—
The sound of the door shutting made her jump. Nice big bed for who, exactly? She intended to take it slow with Justin, if he even wanted to take it at all anymore after their kitchen encounter.
“Friends can still sleep together,” she muttered.
And play with sex toys, and spank each other…
The drive back to his house wasn’t much more chatty than the drive to his parents’ had been. Thanks to the big meal and the tryptophan from the turkey, she couldn’t seem to keep her eyes open. Sort of sucked really, since she’d found such a great worrying-about-everything groove.
Yeah, sleeping sounded way better.
He pulled into his drive and turned off the vehicle. Even before he spoke, she sensed his tension. “I’ll make up the guest room for you tonight.” While she stared at him openmouthed, he scratched the back of his neck. “Unless you’d prefer to stay with a friend. If you’d rather, I could drive you to—”
“What the hell?” Before she could temper the impulse, she hauled back and punched him in the arm.
He barely flinched. “I’d ask what that was for, but I think I know.”
“You don’t know anything. You just think you do.” Beyond irate, she crossed her arms over her chest. “It’s Thanksgiving. If I had any friends I could call, don’t you think I would’ve already?”
“You called me.”
“Yeah, I did. You were the only person I thought of running to. Maybe that means I’m repeating old patterns or something equally psychobabble-ish, or that I’m trading one tumultuous relationship for another. But I knew I’d be safe with you.”
He tightened his fingers around the wheel. “Safe. Right.”
She reached out to place her hand on his thigh, and he shot his gaze to hers. “If you believe nothing else I say, believe this: I know you would never intentionally cause me harm. I know that, Justin. The problem is you don’t.”
He faced forward and flexed his granite jaw. “How can you say that after tonight?”
She inhaled sharply. She’d known what was at the root of his sudden about-face but hearing him say it aloud sliced her open. After what she’d witnessed at his parents, she understood his aloneness more acutely than before. He’d exiled himself because he couldn’t stand being party to what he suspected would again turn into an abusive situation.
And now he believed he’d somehow crossed a line himself. Because of her. She’d pushed him too hard, and he’d broken his own rigid moral code where she was concerned. He didn’t see her as just some chick he�
��d taken home for a good time. She was his “fragile” friend, and he’d physically caused her pain.
That she’d craved it didn’t matter.
She pressed back against the seat. Somehow the motion reinvigorated all the soreness in her bottom, and she cringed. “God, I’m no better than my ex,” she whispered.
He grabbed the hand she’d left on his thigh. “Are you okay?”
“No. I’m so fucking not okay.” She let out a brittle laugh. “You’re sitting there hating yourself because you spanked me when I wanted it. And I’m just now realizing that Rob and I had more in common than I thought. I kept nudging you—”
As if the console weren’t between them, he leaned across the space and enfolded her in his arms. “Dammit, it’s not the same thing at all. Not even close.”
Rather than fill her head with meaningless words, he just rocked them both for what felt like hours. When he finally stilled, she knew they’d reached a point where talking didn’t matter anyway.
He stroked her hair with his steady hand, both calming her and driving her to despair. Every touch told her this was the beginning of their good-bye.
She wasn’t ready to let him go just yet. She’d missed out on so many years with him. Maybe if she’d stuck around the first time, she could’ve helped him avoid the years of heartache he’d clearly endured. There never would’ve been her ex, and she wouldn’t be sitting in the front seat of her oldest friend’s Jeep crying over why she had to walk away from him because she cared about him so damn much.
“Stop,” he soothed, rubbing his thumbs over her damp cheeks. “It’s okay.”
“Not yet it’s not.”
He gave her a wry smile. “No. But it will be.”
She inched closer on her seat, tipping her head against his. His breath wafted over her cheek and cooled the hot tears she couldn’t seem to stop. Even in the freezing air of the Jeep, they burned her skin on contact. “These days were supposed to be fun. A relaxing escape for us both. Didn’t turn out that way, huh?”
“We had our moments.”
Hearing the smile in his voice, she eased back. His soft mouth beckoned her to kiss him, and the curve of his lips somehow lifted her own. “Yes, we did.” She spanned her fingers across his stubbled cheeks and stared into his beautiful eyes. “I couldn’t have gotten through this without you.”
“I doubt that very much.”
“Not leaving Rob,” she added hastily, not wanting him to get the wrong idea. Again. “But the holiday and not having anywhere to go, not knowing where my home will be—”
He kissed her again, as light as a whisper of air passing over her lips. “You can stay with me as long as you need.”
Looking at him was risky, but she couldn’t shut her eyes and deny the truth. She wouldn’t do that anymore. “In the guest room.”
“I think it’s best.” He let out a ragged breath thick with regret as he put some space between them. “For both of us.”
Nodding, she laced her fingers with his and lifted them to her mouth. “I’ll stay tonight, thank you. Tomorrow I’m going back to get my stuff. And then I’m going to figure out a place to live.”
“My offer stands—”
“I know. But this is best too.”
He released another breath and tightened his fingers over hers. “I want to go with you to Rob’s. I’m not demanding. I’m asking,” he said when she started to object. “Not to fight with him or to embarrass you. Just because I’m your friend, and I’d like to help.”
“Despite how things ended between Rob and me, I’m not looking to create drama.”
“I understand that.” He rubbed his thumb over her knuckles. “Let me be your friend. I won’t let you down this time.”
The tears came back full force. “You never let me down. You couldn’t.”
He didn’t reply.
Sighing, she pressed her forehead against his and held his hand to her heart. She wondered if he could feel how fast it was beating. “It would help a lot to have you there with me. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” He relaxed against her.
Until she spoke again.
“But there’s something I want too. Before you say yes or no, I’d ask that you hear me out. As your friend,” she added carefully, even as everything inside her railed at the inadequate descriptor of their relationship.
“Go ahead.”
“I think maybe you should consider counseling again.” His fingers went slack in hers, though he didn’t shove her away. “I’m thinking about it too. Before yesterday it never occurred to me that I might need to talk to someone about what happened with Rob. Not even what he asked me to do, but who I became when I was with him. That wasn’t me. Somehow I lost myself, and I want to get the real me back. I’m willing to do whatever it takes.”
“I told you I tried counseling before. It didn’t take.”
“You were a kid. You’re not a child anymore, and the choice isn’t being made for you now. This would be about you walking in the door of your own volition and then walking right back out if it didn’t suit.” She cupped his cheek in her hand. “It would always be your choice.”
“What if it doesn’t work?”
“What if?” she countered quietly. “All you will be out is a little time and money. And you’ll know that you need to find another option. Or another therapist.”
His lips quirked wryly. “Shit, the woman I fucked this afternoon is sending me to therapy. That’s gotta be the biggest knee in the nuts ever.”
Rather than being insulted, she chuckled. “I’m suggesting as your friend, not as the woman you fucked.” If there was a little more inflection on the last word, she couldn’t help it.
“It wasn’t just fucking.” Both his voice and his expression softened. “You know that, Kylie.”
She exhaled an uneven breath. “I do. But it’s nice to hear you say it.”
“I’ll say something else then, just so we’re all clear.”
“By all means.”
He brought her hand to his mouth and gave her fingers a quick kiss. Even in that simple gesture she could feel his nerves, and her own stomach knotted in anticipation of what he would say. “I’m in love with you,” he murmured, his gaze lasering in on hers.
All the rest of the world fell away. She couldn’t see the Jeep’s interior in her peripheral vision anymore. Couldn’t hear anything but the dull roar of her own inadequacies in her ears.
Normally she espoused women being confident and extolling their own worth, especially to men. But right now, when she was banged up from her fall and frazzled from her crazy week, she didn’t feel like a rocking chick. She wasn’t entirely sure she loved herself at the moment, so how could he love her?
He smiled faintly and shook his head. “I think you looked less sick to your stomach when you told me I needed therapy.”
Her laughter spilled out and surprised them both. She laughed harder as he edged back with more than a little trepidation. “I’m not going crazy, I swear. It just strikes me as hilarious that here we are, on the verge of breaking up when we were barely even together, and you’re telling me you love me, and I—”
“And you what?” he asked hoarsely, his focus squarely on her face.
It would be so easy to dismiss her feelings as misguided gratitude for his shelter and care the past couple of days, or to assume she’d transferred them from Rob. But there hadn’t been any feelings left for her ex to transfer, beyond the concern that came from being with a person for years. Even those emotions were still layered under a thick coating of betrayal, since her ex had proven himself to be a complete asshole.
No, what she felt for Justin had grown its roots before she’d ever even met Rob. It hadn’t been love back then. Nor had she fallen for him the moment he’d walked into her bar. The change had been insidious and as gradual as the snow that now meandered from the slate-gray sky.
First there were a few flakes. Within several minutes the night turned white.
“I…care about you too, Justin.” Her throat muscles seemed to lock in place, and she had to force the words out. “A lot.”
He clamped his arms around her and hauled her against him. The movement wedged her bruised hip against the console, and she simply didn’t care, because his mouth was on hers and everything in her world was so right that she wanted to scream her thanks to the gods.
When he pulled back, breathing hard, she fought not to cling. As much as she wished circumstances were different, she understood that their declarations—even her half-assed one—weren’t a bridge to a relationship. At least not now.
Maybe they’d find their way back to each other in time. It was the holiday season after all, and she still had hope.
Even if she didn’t have love.
Nine
New Year’s Eve
“Sure you don’t want to come out with us tonight?” Luellen, one of the other bartenders at Rough and Ready, continued polishing the bar with the zeal of a missionary. “It’s going to be crazy. Ziggy already bought the body paint.”
Kylie laughed and mopped up her own end of the bar. They’d just hit that midafternoon lull before all the diehards wandered in for happy hour—and beyond, considering it was New Year’s—and she was happy to be able to escape before the madness started. She’d worked more than a few New Year’s Eves in her day, and she didn’t mind missing one. The date she had planned with her couch and an action movie fest suited her just fine.
“Sorry, Lu, no can do. I already bought the steak and champagne for my solo feast at home tonight. I’m going to eat like a damn queen—” She broke off as she glanced up at the sound of the door opening. Not a rare event at a bar, but the man who crossed the threshold might as well have been a damn rockstar for the effect his presence had on her rocketing heart.
Justin searched the bar, his gaze drifting until it landed on her. She had a millisecond to shore up her hasty ponytail before he strode her way.
The chemical reaction between them was so potent Kylie wasn’t surprised Lu chuckled under her breath and shuffled off. What did surprise her was that the bar didn’t splinter from the heat of Justin’s stare.
