He growled and shoved both hands through his hair like he was about to lose his mind. “What the fuck, Stella?”
“Don’t yell at me.” I lifted my chin and reclaimed the step I’d lost. Even though my nose barely reached the middle of his chest, I did my best to stare him down. “This is my fault. If I’d never have met you, then you wouldn’t have gone to prison. None of this would have happened. I have to make it right.”
“No, you don’t.” With a hand on each of my shoulders, he gave me a light shake. “I told you to leave it alone. Why can’t you just let it go?”
“You don’t deserve any of this.”
“Listen to me.” He bent down to my eye level, his nose an inch from mine. “I gave up ten years of my life to keep you safe. If you keep picking at this, everything I did will have been for nothing.”
I bit my lower lip. “Michael said most of the evidence was lost. It would be hard to reopen the case, but I asked him to try.”
He took a step closer, crowding me toward the wall. The depths of his eyes sparkled with something unidentifiable, something that made my thighs clench. When my back hit the wall, I spread my palms against the plaster. He caged me in, palms flat against the wall beside my head. “What am I going to do with you, Stella Valentine?”
My pulse accelerated. His breath burned my ear. Fear coursed through my body. I wasn’t afraid he would hurt me; I was afraid of the way I felt when he got so close. I wanted to wrap my legs around his waist and beg him to fuck me on the floor. Right here. Like a love-starved teenager.
“Owen, I know we’re different people now, but what if—what if this is something special between us? What if this is our one chance at happiness?” I smoothed my fingertips over the rough stubble of his jaw. Some of the tension eased in his posture, but the light in his eyes grew more intense. “Is it possible to still love someone after so many years apart?”
The tip of his nose nuzzled along the bridge of mine. His eyes closed as his lips brushed my mouth in a butterfly kiss. I sighed, overcome by the tenderness in his touch. “I don’t know, Stella. It’s not going to matter if you’re in prison.” He kissed me again, deeper this time, teasing my tongue with his until my toes curled. One of his arms stole around my waist. He yanked me against his chest. The warm, hard length of his body pressed against mine. I melted into his strength. With his free hand, he spanked my bottom, one hard slap that made me gasp then giggle.
“What was that for?” I curled my fingers into the fabric of his T-shirt and drew in a lungful of his scent. He smelled manly and a little uncivilized, a combination of soap and shampoo and leather. “Are you mad at me?”
“I’m fucking furious,” he said. The soft fullness of his mouth found the tender spot beneath my ear and sucked. Tiny bubbles of desire fizzed in my veins. The hand on my bottom tightened its grip. I moaned and wiggled closer to his chest, molding every inch of my body to every inch of his.
“Maybe you should stay here one more night.” The fullness of my breasts flattened against his hard pectorals.
“Persuade me.” His mouth found mine again. I gave into my lust and dug my fingers into his hair, tugging, enjoying his groans. After a tortured groan, he scooped me into his arms and carried me up the stairs to the bedroom.
With him inside me, I had hope. Life had thrown every conceivable obstacle into our path, yet we had managed to find each other again. I sighed, tightened my thighs around his waist, and bucked my hips against his. We moved together in an easy rhythm. He anticipated my needs before I knew them myself. When his hand reached between us to stroke my clit, the dam holding back my emotions broke.
I came in a fiery explosion. He drove through the frenzied clenching of my walls, milking my orgasm to the brink of exhaustion. When I was left breathless and weak from pleasure, he followed after me.
Twenty-Six
Stella
Present Day
The next day, a bubble of giddiness threatened to burst inside me every time I looked at Owen. Aside from an occasional sideways glance in my direction, he carried about his normal work routine. A few times, I heard him whistling. When the other workers piled into the truck for lunch, he came inside to join me for a sandwich. Actually, three sandwiches for him and one for me.
“How can you eat like that without getting fat?” I asked, watching him lick his fingers after the final bite. “I’m gaining weight just watching you.”
A lazy smile curled his lips. “Hard work will burn it right off. Or good sex.”
And that was all it took. Before I knew what was happening, we were on the table having sex. With his blue jeans puddled around his feet, he spread my thighs apart and stroked into me. I gritted my teeth at the tangle of his fingers in my hair.
“Say you want me,” he growled, forcing my face up to his. “Tell me you want me inside you.”
“Yes.” I clung to his shoulders, desperate to prolong the moment. “I want you.”
The possessiveness in his tone was unfamiliar but welcome. This handsome, virile man no longer resembled the gentle boy in my memories. Each stroke of his cock was ruthless and punishing. “You feel so good, Stella.” A ragged desperation marked his words and twisted my heart.
His gaze met mine. In the depths of his eyes, I saw a fear that matched my own. Were we playing with fire? After what we’d been through, we understood the fragility of happiness. His movements gentled. The sweetness in his touch brought the sting of tears to my eyes. I still loved him. I never stopped.
“Owen, I—” A loud knock on the front door brought my confession to an abrupt halt.
“Shit.” Owen withdrew, leaving me spread eagle on the table. He hoisted his jeans to his hips and tossed my panties to me. “It’s Coley.”
Another loud knock.
“Coming,” I shouted at the sheriff and struggled into my clothes. “What does he want?”
“I don’t know, but if I have to go down to the station one more time for no reason, I’m going to be pissed,” Owen growled.
“Stay here. I’ll get rid of him.” On the way to the door, I ran my fingers through the snarls in my hair. I drew in a deep breath and unlocked the dead bolt.
“Ms. Valentine.” Coley’s gaze roved over my flushed cheeks and red lips. “I hope I didn’t catch you at a bad time.” He shifted to see over my shoulder.
“You did, actually.” I stepped onto the porch and closed the door behind me. “What can I do for you?”
“I just wanted to let you know that we caught the kids who broke into your house. Just a gang of juvenile delinquents. They’ll be prosecuted accordingly. No sign of your equipment, though, I’m afraid.”
“Thanks.” I crossed my arms over my chest and shifted from one bare foot to the other, wishing he’d leave. “But you didn’t need to drive out here to tell me that. You could’ve called.”
His eyes narrowed. “I was in the neighborhood.”
“Well, if that’s all—” I opened the screen door, intending to leave him on the porch.
“I see Owen’s here.” The acerbic tone of his voice scraped over my nerves. “Would you mind getting him for me?”
“Yes, I mind.” Meeting his stare, I squared my shoulders and lifted my chin. “He’s busy.”
“Right.” Coley smirked and rested a hand on the butt of the pistol in his holster. “Tell him I’ve got my eye on him.”
“Whatever.” Without a backward glance, I let the screen door bang shut on my heels, leaving him on the front steps.
“What did he want?” Owen came out of the kitchen, a bottle of water in one hand and a cookie in the other. The sight of him in my hallway, his hair ruffled from my clutching fingers, made my heart skip a beat.
I gave him a brief recap. “But I really think he was just snooping.”
Owen snorted. “Probably. Nosy bastard.”
“This harassment has to stop.” I ran my hands up his chest, savoring his hard body. A smile lit up his face. He bent and kissed me then offered a bit
e of the cookie. I grabbed a handful of his ass, pulling his hips against mine. “Now, where were we?”
“Easy, girl. Dad and the boys will be back any second.”
“Right.” With a sigh of resignation, I released him. The crunch of tires on gravel and the slam of truck doors announced the crew’s arrival. Part of me was disappointed, but part of me felt relief. A few minutes earlier, I was ready to bare my heart to this man. “Owen—”
“Back to work, boys.” Dad’s booming voice echoed across the back yard.
“Gotta go, babe.” Owen dropped a kiss on the top of my head, patted my ass, and strapped on his toolbelt before plunging out the kitchen door.
We couldn’t get enough of each other. One day blurred into the next and days became weeks. The leaves turned into riotous colors and fell off the trees. The flowers Cindy planted next to the front walk died. By the time Dad and the boys finished the last of the renovations, the farmers had harvested the corn across the road and frost covered the barren fields.
Owen came over every night to sit on the porch swing with me, the way he had when we were kids. In those quiet moments, we existed in a bubble of happiness. One I knew might burst at any second. When the temperatures grew too cold to sit outside, we sat inside by the crackling fireplace. I ate up his attention like a starving animal. Sometimes he spent the night, but most of the time he went back to Cindy and Dad’s. We were taking things slow, rebuilding our trust in each other.
A few days before Thanksgiving, we were sitting in the kitchen, drinking coffee, when the growl of a car engine interrupted our conversation. I peeked out the window to see Lanie’s van in the driveway. Owen followed me out the door to greet her.
“Hey, sis.” With arms extended, she ran toward me and wrapped her arms around my neck. “Surprise!”
“Um, yes. What’s going on?” I hugged her back then disentangled myself to eyeball her. We hadn’t talked since before my trip to Iceland. She’d sent a few texts, but I’d kept my responses short. I couldn’t forgive her for letting me down when I needed her help.
“You said we should come and visit. Well, here we are.” The impulsive move was typical. I swallowed, trying to decide if I was pissed or ambivalent. She smiled, avoiding my gaze. “I hope you don’t mind. It’s so cold in Cleveland and the kids are on break, so we thought we’d come for a visit.”
“No, it’s fine. I’m happy to see you.” Thank goodness I’d bought more furniture for the spare rooms. “A call would have been nice, though.”
“Well, I was going to, but you never answer your phone, and then I thought it would be a great surprise. So here we are.” She danced in a circle around me, her smile infectious. Her expression clouded, however, when Owen moved from the shadows to my side.
“Hey, Lanie,” he said. “It’s good to see you.”
“Hi.” A frown furrowed her forehead. She glanced from me to Owen then moved in to give him a hug. “You’re taller than I remember.”
“You look the same. Pretty as ever,” he said, his tone even. Despite the many reasons to doubt her honesty, he spoke with warmth. A tingle started at my toes and crept to the tips of my ears. Kindness had never been so sexy.
“Thanks.” Her dimples popped at the compliment.
“Get the kids and come inside,” I said. “You must be tired.”
“The drive was hell.” She rolled her expressive eyes. “The kids fought the entire trip. Teenagers are no joke.”
At the wave of her hand, the kids spilled out of the van. Their hugs reminded me of the joys of aunthood. Despite their protests, I gave each one a kiss on the cheek. My relationship with Lanie had nothing to do with the love I felt for them. “You’ve all grown at least a foot.” Until now, I had no idea how much I had missed them.
“Aunt Stella, can I go explore?” Kimberly asked. At thirteen, she was nearly as tall as me and just as pretty as her mother. She twisted a strand of her long, auburn hair around her finger and blinked large blue eyes at me. My heart melted.
“Sure,” I said. “But stay around the house.”
While Owen and Trey, Lanie’s oldest son, unloaded the luggage, Lanie and I took three-year-old Colton inside. He sat on my lap and ate Cheerios from a paper plate while we talked.
“So, what’s the deal, Lanie? You hated it here.”
“I miss you.” She shrugged, avoiding my gaze. “We haven’t talked in forever.”
“And whose fault is that?” I stared at her across the table. Her dark red hair swung around her shoulders. She looked younger than her age, too young to have a sixteen-year-old son. “Look, I’m happy to see you and the kids. You’re always welcome, but unless you give me answers about Chris, I have nothing more to say to you.”
“Why are you being like this?” With a huff, she crossed her arms over her chest.
“Because I’ve spent my entire life cleaning up your messes. You never take responsibility for your actions. And when I ask you to do one thing for me—one thing—you won’t even consider it.”
Tears glimmered in her eyes. Her jaw stiffened with the stubbornness we shared. “You always think the worst of me.”
“That’s not true, and you know it.” I placed my hands over the toddler’s ears. Thinking it was a game, he smiled up at me. “I’ve had your back since the day you were born. Just me, Lanie. I’m the one who defended you from the bullies on the playground, and I’m the one who kept you out of trouble when you were too stupid to do it for yourself.”
“Don’t call me stupid.” Her glare intensified. “You have no idea what I’ve been through.”
“Oh my God. You make me crazy.” My frustrations culminated in a growl. “Not everything is about you.”
She drummed her fingers on the tabletop. After a minute, her shoulders lowered. “So, what’s the deal with Owen? Why is he here?”
“He comes over every night. We were getting ready to play gin rummy,” I said, avoiding the point of her question. Neither of us could stand to look at each other.
“Is it serious?” she asked. The corners of her mouth turned down.
Her judgmental tone teased my temper. “He’s a part of my life now. Be nice to him or go home.” Ultimatums had never been my thing, but she needed to know where I stood on the matter.
She laughed, crinkling her nose, like she did when she was truly amused. “Wow. All right.” The mirth faded from her face. “I’m not sure I want my kids around a convicted felon.”
Lanie always knew how to get under my skin, and she was doing a fine job of it. “Keep your voice down. He’ll hear you.” It took every ounce of my self-control to keep from grabbing her by the ear and dragging her over my knee for a good spanking. “We both know why he has a record.” Her lips pressed into a tight line. My irritation continued to escalate. “Isn’t Colton’s daddy in prison for armed robbery? Pot meet kettle.”
“Fair enough.” Her casual shrug meant that she’d forgiven me. “But Graber had the most beautiful eyes and look how cute Colton is. He’s going to have big baby blues just like his daddy.”
I removed my hands from my nephew’s ears and gave him a kiss on top of his curly head. “You’re going to be a heartbreaker someday, young man.”
“Aunt Stella, which room is mine?” Trey stood at the threshold of the kitchen with his arms full of suitcases. He had Lanie’s dark auburn hair and my violet eyes. A shadow of whiskers covered his upper lip. While I was busy traveling the world, he’d grown into a young man.
“Upstairs. You can have any of the rooms to the left. Let your mom and Colton have the room next to the bathroom.” He nodded, but I couldn’t resist teasing him before he retreated. “Hey, what’s that on your face?”
“Huh?” He rubbed a finger over his jaw.
“You’ve got something right here.” I dragged a fingertip over my upper lip. “It looks like dirt.”
“It’s a mustache.” The annoyed undertone in his voice made me smile. “Why does everyone keep saying that?”
“Give the kid a break,” Owen said. He came to my side and rested a hand on my shoulder. It felt good there. I smiled up at him. Lanie watched our interaction with hooded interest. He bent and placed a kiss on my cheek. “Look, I’m going to get out of here and give you all a chance to catch up.”
“You don’t have to leave because of us,” Lanie said. Contrition lurked behind her pleasant expression. Deep down, she was a good person. “We didn’t mean to disrupt your evening.”
“I’ve got some things to take care of anyway,” Owen said. His deep voice reverberated through my body. When his gaze met mine, heat scalded my face. I could taste his kiss, feel the brush of his whiskers on my inner thighs, and I missed him already. He winked, like he could read my dirty thoughts. “Call you later, Stell?”
“Sure. Don’t forget—Dad and Cindy are coming over tomorrow.” I said. “You’ll be here, right?”
“Deal.” He kissed me again, this time on the mouth, leaving the taste of peppermint on my lips. I watched him walk out the door, admiring his long stride and the snug fit of his jeans over his slim hips. When the door closed behind him, I felt Lanie’s stare.
“Not one word,” I said, raising a finger in warning. “For the first time in a long time, I’m happy, and you’re not going to steal that from me. Not this time.”
After a tour through the house and a light supper of frozen pizza, everyone settled into their rooms. Lanie and I laid on her bed while Colton slept between us. She stroked her fingers through his dark curls, her expression pensive. Quiet warmth enveloped the house. Even though I was furious with her, the bonds of family held strong between us.
“Do you think I’m a good mom?” she asked suddenly.
“Of course.” Her question caught me off guard. Despite her impulsive decisions and poor choices in men, she’d always been devoted to her kids. “Why?”
“I don’t know. I’ve been thinking about Mom a lot lately. She was my age when she left us. When I look at my sweet babies, I can’t understand how she could ever do something like that. Nothing would ever take me away from my children. I’d move heaven and earth to keep them safe.” Her tone turned fierce. Tears glistened on her eyelashes. “You know?”
Lies We Tell Page 16
