The Aussie Next Door

by Stefanie London

  “I had doubts about marrying you, too,” he admitted.

  “Really?” Her shoulders sagged a little as if he’d lifted something heavy from them. “Is it weird that makes me feel a bit better?”

  “Life is weird.” He brought his beer up to his lips and tipped his head back. “I was still hurt that you left…” God, this was awkward. But it needed to be said. Maybe getting it out in the open was the best thing possible. “And by what you put in that note. But I’ve moved on.”

  “I’m glad. I knew it would be awkward coming home, but I told myself that if I could at least face you, then maybe I wasn’t quite the same person as when I left.” She sucked in a breath. “So I’m sorry I ran away and didn’t confront the problem like I should have.”

  “And I’m sorry I let you think you were the only one having doubts.”

  Silence settled between them like a leaf drifting down to the ground, and then the world started to filter back into their sphere—laughter and conversation, the sound of squawking gulls overhead, music floating from the open window of a car. Jace wrapped his palms around his pint glass, absorbing the last of the cool, refreshing feeling into his skin.

  He stared into the foamy depths, not quite sure what to say now. Small talk was not his strong suit. “Are you happy to be back home?” he asked.

  Julia laughed and tucked a strand of hair behind her ears. “Am I happy to come back to the place where everyone thinks I’m an evil bitch because I ran out on the town’s most beloved family? Uh, no. Not really. I’m happy to be spending time with my dad, but everyone is looking at me like I’ve got the plague.”

  “I hope your dad is doing better soon,” he said.

  “I hope so, too.” She offered a watery smile and pulled the sunglasses that were perched on her head down over her eyes.

  Julia let herself out of the beer garden through a small side gate, and Jace stayed at the table, staring into space. His beer tasted like nothing now, and it had lost its cool, crisp edge. Sweat beaded along his hairline, prickling his scalp. But he couldn’t move. It was like his body was glued to the chair, unable to move until he’d adequately sifted through the conversation that had just taken place.

  He’d never wanted to marry Julia.

  How had he buried that thought for so long? Maybe because it was easier to be angry. Easier to be the guy who got left behind because it fit with his view of who he was—a loner, a misunderstood creative. A guy who was too rigid and too in his own head for anyone else to have a chance of knowing him. Of accepting him.

  But Angie seemed to accept him. Last night had been…everything. And it had been so effortless. They’d talked about so many things—from his comics to her deep love of romantic movies, to the plans she had for Patterson’s Bluff and how she loved to bake and that chocolate chip cookies were her specialty. The feeling of her body curled into his side, her hair spilling over his chest, while colors exploded in the distance, was the most at ease he’d felt in a long time.

  Maybe that was the guy he was supposed to be.

  He liked her. He wanted her to stay. And there was only one way for that to happen.

  Chapter Nineteen

  By the time Angie pedaled home from her volunteer shift, she had a much clearer head. Riding through the quiet tree-lined streets tended to do that. She’d stopped past the Wattle & Oat bakery on the way home and picked up some vanilla slices because she knew they were Jace’s favorite.

  She’d give herself one more night to indulge what made her feel good before she had to face reality. Because if being with him for a short while meant enough to give up on finding lasting love in Australia, then she was going to enjoy it. She was going to make those happy memories and, hopefully, one day the good would outnumber the bad.

  As she got to the front of Jace’s house, she hopped off her bike and wheeled it down the path alongside his house. Bright yellow fluffs of wattle dotted the ground and gumnuts were strewn everywhere, no doubt from where the birds had been scratching for worms. The yard was quiet, but she immediately spotted Jace sitting out on his deck, sketch pad in hand. And was that…?

  Angie clamped a hand over her mouth. “What the hell? Did you put Truffle in a baby sling?”

  Jace looked up from his drawing and grinned. Truffle was snuggled against his chest, held in place by what appeared to be a length of cotton material wrapped around both him and Jace’s torso. Angie had seen people carry babies like that, but not dogs.

  “He was being super needy, and I had to get some work done. The only time he would shut up was if I let him sit on my lap, but then he got in the way.” He moved his hands around as if to say, Voila! “So I improvised.”

  “He looks less pink than yesterday.” Angie leaned her bike against the fence and grabbed her things from the basket hanging off the front handles. “Did you wash him again?”

  “I gave him a little scrub.” He eyed the bag from the bakery with its telltale flower stamp. “What have you got there?”

  “Wouldn’t you like to know?” She came up the small set of steps leading to the deck and saucily opened the bag so he could see inside. “A little birdie told me you like vanilla slices. And…well, I wanted an excuse to come over.”

  “You ran out of here like a bat out of hell this morning. I thought I must have put my foot in it.”

  Her heart squeezed. “It was all me.”

  “Do you want to come inside now?”

  Usually, when Jace invited her in, there was no subtext in his words because that’s the kind of guy he was—straightforward. To the point. But now…oh boy. Now, his eyes were burning her up. It was like they were channeling the hot Aussie sun and sending it straight her way.

  Did he want this as much as she did? He certainly looked like it.

  “You might want to ditch the doggy sling,” she said. Her voice was a little husky, a little uncertain. But 100 percent excited.

  Laughing, he cradled Truffle with one big hand and set about unwinding the sling with another. It was far too easy to picture him as a dad, doing this very thing with a tiny bundle of joy cradled in his arms. Hell, she was cluckier than a bossy mother hen and that wasn’t normal.

  This isn’t about making babies or getting married or any of that. This is about what feels good. You deserve it.

  Jace released Truffle to the ground and tossed the material onto the wicker chair behind him. Then he walked straight toward her and cupped her face with his long fingers, dipping his head straight down to her mouth. Holy. Moly.

  His lips coaxed her open, and his tongue drove straight into her mouth, stroking. Teasing. She almost dropped the bag of pastries while clinging to his T-shirt for dear life. Because this kiss was like having the rug pulled out from under her—he wanted her. It was written all over that intense, hot gaze and the firmness of his lips and the way his hips pressed against her and…oh yes. It was written everywhere.

  “Wow,” she breathed when he pulled away. “That’s quite a greeting.”

  “I’ve been thinking about it all day,” he admitted with a shy smile. “And since I mess up words, I figured action might be safer.”

  “I’m not here to judge you,” she said. “Especially not when I was the chicken this morning.”

  He took her hand and led her into the house, his fingers entwined with hers like they’d done this a thousand times before. Words jostled in her head—should they set out some kind of agreement? Some boundaries? Or were they already on the same page and would her trying to negotiate ruin this sparkling, sexy bubble?

  Angie put the treats down on the counter, her other hand still in Jace’s. Her appetite was being driven by only one thing—and it wasn’t delicious vanilla-y custard-based snacks. Jace pulled her close, settling his butt back against the kitchen counter. She stepped between his legs and draped her arms around his neck.

  “Why did you run out?
” he asked.

  “I needed some space to think,” she admitted. “Everything you told me last night…it was a lot.”

  “Too much?”

  “No. I’m so glad you trusted me with it. I feel like we have this connection…”

  “We do.”

  “I wasn’t prepared for it. I mean, I knew I liked you…but it was something else.” She lowered her eyes for a moment, feeling exposed by the truth. Should they really be getting into this? Wouldn’t it hurt less if they stuck to the physical? “I had a really good time getting to know you better.”

  “I did, too, Angie. You’re so…everything.” His hand skimmed down her back. “I haven’t been able to concentrate on work. I kept drawing you over and over.”

  “You did?”

  “Yeah.” He tilted her face up to his. “You’ve captured me.”

  “And you think you don’t know what to say.” She pressed up on her tiptoes and kissed him. Softly at first. Tiny fluttering kisses. Then harder. Deeper.

  He spun her around and hoisted her up onto the breakfast bar, nudging her legs open with his hips. It felt like something out of a movie—they moved seamlessly together, like it was all choreographed. Like it had been predetermined. Angie slid her fingers into his hair and pulled his face close to hers, taking control of their kiss. She felt powerful with Jace. She felt beautiful and wanted and free.

  His hands braced against her thighs, sliding up her bare skin toward the hem of her skirt. His fingertips traced the white flowers embroidered into the edge of the pale-blue fabric. It matched the cupboards in Jace’s kitchen as a costume designer had chosen it specially.

  He pushed her skirt up, revealing more of her thighs, which had turned a deep tan over the summer. Each touch stirred something inside her—a desperate, needy wanting that coiled low in her stomach like a snake.

  “Higher,” she whispered in his ear. Jace let out a soft moan, and his fingers tightened around her thigh in response, denting her soft skin. “Harder is good, too.”

  His lips were hot against her neck, teeth scraping her skin in a way that had every cylinder in her body firing at maximum oh yes! speed. He kissed and sucked, and all the while his palms worked their way up and in. Opening her. The pad of his thumb traced the seam of her sex through her underwear, and she had to bite down on her lip to keep a cry from rushing out.

  She let her head roll back against the upper cabinets with a soft thunk as he continued the sensual exploration. His knuckles rubbed against the tight bundle of nerves before he slipped one finger behind the elastic edge of her underwear and felt the slick heat there.

  “This good?” He stroked her more boldly, rubbing moisture over her clit. The sensation made Angie’s back bow, her hips almost launching into the air, and she gasped.

  “You don’t speak pre-orgasmic moaning?” she teased. “Let’s me translate: hell yes, yes please, and yes, yes, yes!”

  He crouched down and placed a kiss on the inside of her knee. “That’s a lot of yeses.”

  “I can’t help myself when it comes to you.”

  He looked up at her and grinned.

  The sight of his sandy brown head moving between her legs was possibly the most erotic thing Angie had ever seen. She waded her fingers through his hair, loving the way the stubborn strands sprang back into place and slowly melting into an Angie-shaped puddle of lust as he kissed the inside of her thigh.

  “You’re going to ruin your appetite.”

  Something darkly sexy flashed in Jace’s eyes. “If there was a person on earth who’d give this up for a vanilla slice, I would be very surprised.”

  He slid her to the edge of the countertop, encouraging her to drape her legs over his shoulders. When he set his mouth on her sex, sucking through the soaked cotton, fireworks exploded behind Angie’s shuttered lids. It was like New Year’s and Christmas and the Fourth of July and Australia Day and every other goddamn holiday rolled into one.

  He teased her through her underwear, giving her almost enough…but not quite. “Please,” she whimpered. “Is this punishment for leaving this morning?”

  “Not punishment.” He toyed with the leg hole on her underwear, dragging it to one side so there was no barrier between them. “Encouragement.”

  “An encouragement?” she panted. She curled her hands over the edge of the counter as he swiped his tongue along her, sending arrows of pleasure driving through her body. She was so close…oh, so close.

  “That maybe you might wanna stay a while.”

  His words drew a groan from her mouth. She knew he didn’t mean stay forever, but was it terrible if her heart interpreted it that way?

  She shifted, trying to give him better access. Showing him what she wanted. Then he sucked her clit between his lips, his tongue doing some amazing flicking thing that had her screwing her eyes shut and making soundless cries. Yes, yes, yes. Then she was flying, shaking, trembling. Actually freaking trembling like it was her first time having an orgasm. She’d never had one so strong before.

  Jace was gifted with his mouth, even if its best use wasn’t talking. She slumped back against the upper counters and watched as he rested his cheek against her thigh. Warm breath puffed over her skin, and when he blinked, his lashes tickled her skin.

  She’d never thought of oral sex as particularly romantic. Hot? Yeah. Pleasurable? Of course. But never…sweet. Yet here they were. That tended to happen with Jace; he caused her to flip her opinions on their head.

  “You’re really good at that,” she said shyly.

  He straightened up and helped her down from the countertop. She smoothed her skirt down over her legs.

  “Don’t fuss with that too much.” His voice was as gravelly as the roads leading to the beach. “It’s going to get pretty wrinkled when I throw it on the floor.”

  “And what about this?” She brought her hands to the fine mother-of-pearl buttons on her cami top. She pushed one through the hole and then another. And another. “Are we throwing this on the floor, too?”

  “All of it,” he growled.

  She backed through the kitchen, working the buttons loose. But when she went to turn into the bedroom, he changed their course, steering her into his bathroom. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror above the white vanity—hair coming loose from her ponytail, eyes wide, lips pink and swollen. She looked every bit like a woman in charge of her sexuality.

  He came up behind her, catching her gaze in the mirror. Without breaking eye contact, he slipped the camisole’s straps from her shoulders and let it slither to the ground. Underneath, she had on one of those barely there bras. The kind that was more for the visual than for the function—with generous sections of lace that showed her nipples through the fabric. He slid his hands up over her ribs and cupped her, his thumbs brushing the sensitive peaks.

  Brushing his hands away, she unhooked the front closure and tossed the bra to the ground, relishing in the appreciative sound Jace let out behind her. Then she bent forward, shimmying out of her skirt and underwear. She took a good minute undoing the straps on her sandals and kicking them off, knowing he was getting quite the eyeful.

  “You are putting on one hell of a show,” he said, letting his eyes roam over her naked form.

  She reached into the shower and turned the knob until water started flowing. “Now it’s your turn.”

  “Want to give me a hand?”

  She yanked the T-shirt out of his jeans and whipped it over his head…well, as much over his head as she could with their mismatched height. He had to finish the job, and they both laughed, not caring about any little awkward moments. Because that was life. Sex wasn’t choreographed and this felt so…real.

  So right.

  Jace was staring flames down at her as she ran her hand over the fly of his jeans, gently grazing the bulge that pressed hard against his zipper. When she sque
ezed him, he let out a whoosh of air. Good Lord, he was thick. She’d been so swept away last time, she hadn’t given herself a moment to appreciate him. Every detail was perfect.

  Swallowing against the slight tightness in her throat, Angie pulled Jace’s zipper down and shoved the soft fabric over his hips. His boxer briefs went, too, and he toed off his sneakers and socks, leaving him naked.

  “Wow,” she said. He was a sight to behold—all six foot four, lean and bronzed surfer goodness. “You are literally muscled everywhere.”

  To Angie’s absolute delight, Jace ducked his head, and a faint wash of pink colored his cheeks. Who knew a bashful guy could be the hottest thing of all? A guy who looked like that—with sculpted pecs and strong arms and those superhero-movie V muscles—shouldn’t be so modest.

  “Don’t be embarrassed,” she said, coming up to him and grabbing his hand. “You work hard, and it shows. I know you don’t do it for the looks, but I’m still going to enjoy the fruits of your labor.”

  He fisted her half-fallen-out ponytail in his hand and tipped her head back for a searing kiss. “Water should be good now.”

  “Condom?”

  He broke away and grabbed one from his cupboard and tore at the foil, getting frustrated when it didn’t open immediately. “Glad to see I’m still smooth as sandpaper underneath it all.”

  “I love it. And it balances out all this.” She waved her hand up and down him. “Less intimidating that way.”

  “Thanks…I think?” He raised a brow.

  “It’s a compliment, trust me.”

  Angie took the foil packet from his hands and got it open. Then she rolled the rubber down the thick, curved length of him, and suddenly the teasing mood evaporated like steam. Teasing was comfortable and easy, but a quick scratch at the surface revealed that she was very, very hot for Jace. Like, about to spontaneously combust hot for him.

  “I happen to think you’re the intimidating one.” He stalked forward, backing her right into the shower and under the steady stream of deliciously warm water.