Love, All (Camp Firefly Falls Book 19)

by Tamsen Parker

  “I’m going to come. Nate, I’m gonna come.”

  “Yes. Do it. I won’t be far behind. Come on, Ruby. I want to feel you come while I’m inside you.”

  His earnest wish was all she needed, and then she was pulsing around him, her internal muscles squeezing his cock, which was soon responding with its own pulse. It would have told her—had his moan of satisfaction and last hard thrusts not—that he’d found his own release.

  Nate half-collapsed on her, keeping some of his weight in his arms, and nuzzled her neck while stroking lightly inside her. She loosened her own grip and instead of clutching him tightly, she coasted her hands along his back before sliding a hand into his short hair and scratching her nails gently along his scalp. Judging by the way Nate hummed in response, he liked that. And she did, too. All of it. More than she ever thought she would. She was going to miss him a lot when he went back to Boston.

  She hugged him a little tighter, not wanting to give him up quite yet. When she released him, he levered up on his elbows to kiss her sweetly. And then, with a hopeful smile, said, “Hey, I wanted to ask you something…”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Ruby stood out on her stoop, waiting for Nate to pull up in his shiny car. He’d invited her up to Boston for the weekend, and while she couldn’t make that work, they were going to have an overnight. Chloe was staying over at a friend’s house, and she’d been able to swap shifts with Tommy tomorrow so she could at least get home later. It was less than ideal, but it was better than nothing.

  And truthfully, she was excited to see Nate’s apartment and not just his temporary summer camp digs. Maybe she’d be more comfortable there than she was at Camp Firefly Falls. Although maybe not. She couldn’t decide whether she’d prefer that Nate’s apartment be an adolescent hellhole full of plastic furniture and video game cartridges—did they even have cartridges anymore?—or whether it was all sleek and modern and expensive. The kind of place where she’d worry if her shoes would track in her country dirt or smudge some bike grease on his white couch, because even though she didn’t work in the bike shop, she always seemed to get that shit on her anyway.

  It didn’t really matter because it was just an overnight, and it’s not like she’d be spending any more time there than that. She should enjoy the incredibly rare night away from her responsibilities. They may as well be going to a hotel for all Nate’s space should matter to her. She shouldn’t be doing the math on how long it took to get up there and trying to rearrange her schedule in her head. The gas alone would be too much of an expense to make it a regular thing, and that was even assuming he wasn’t just going to head out of camp with more than a wave.

  And then there he was, pulling up in front of her and hopping out the door to open the back gate for her bag. God, even her duffel bag looked shabby next to his. Didn’t matter. It especially didn’t matter after he’d shut the gate and turned to her, his blue eyes bright and, if she wasn’t mistaken, assessing. Yep, he was definitely checking her out.

  “You look…”

  “Showered?”

  He shook his head and used her belt loops to pull her closer to him.

  “I was going to say you look incredible. I don’t think I’ve seen that shirt on you before. I like it.”

  He hadn’t because she didn’t wear it often. Hardly ever because she didn’t want it to get ruined. It was one of those church tag-sale finds, a designer knit top that hugged just right around her breasts but was a little looser around the waist, and it had only cost a quarter.

  And Nate wasn’t exaggerating about thinking she looked good. He pulled her still closer, until she was standing flush against him, and she could feel precisely how good he thought she looked. They were so close that she could smell him—how he must’ve showered recently too, because when she inhaled, she got this crisp, clean, ocean-y scent that made her want to lick him. Not yet, the licking was for later.

  “Chloe’s already at Amanda’s, right?”

  She nodded, and his hands left her waist to cup her ass and squeeze, press her hips even harder into his, and then his head tilted, dipped, and his lips met hers. She let a moan out against his mouth, and he took the opportunity to stroke inside her with his tongue. He felt amazing, and he smelled good, and she was tempted to say screw going up to Boston and just drag him into her house by his wrist and fuck him in her crowded entryway.

  But no, he’d been so happy when she’d said yes and had still been delighted when she’d had to dial it back to one night because two wasn’t going to work. So no banging in the mudroom. They’d just have to wait a few hours and then go at it in Nate’s apartment.

  She sucked and stroked his tongue before pulling away and leaving him leaning forward, eyes still closed, chasing after the abandoned kiss.

  “If you keep that up, we’re never going to get to Boston.”

  His eyes popped open at that, and he gave her butt one last squeeze and a firm smack that set her pelvis pulsing with want. “You’re right. We’ve got to go. In the car with you.”

  She laughed and rolled her eyes, but went around to get in the passenger side and prepare herself for their mini-adventure. And maybe squeeze her thighs together to alleviate the ache between her legs where she’d really like Nate to be right the fuck now. Or would that just make the longing worse?

  Whatever, she had a few hours to figure it out.

  ***

  Nate stuffed his keys in his pocket and opened the back to grab their bags. They weren’t heavy since it was just an overnight, and Ruby would probably give him an “oh, please” look. Of course, she was more than capable of carrying her own bag, but if he didn’t have both of his hands occupied, they were never going to make it inside his building, never mind into his apartment, before he set on her. That kiss had jumpstarted his engine, and it’d been revving all the damn way up here. At least he’d gotten lucky and found a decent parking spot not even a block from his building. Wasn’t always true.

  They headed inside, and Nate kept an eye on Ruby, trying to fathom what she was thinking. Did she like the building, the neighborhood? Would she want to live here with him? Would she be willing to uproot Chloe for that to happen? He’d solved a lot of problems, but there were some he just couldn’t.

  In front of his door, he dropped the bags and keyed open the lock, reached inside to flip on the lights. He’d had to call in a crap-ton of favors to get this done, so here’s hoping it was worth it and that his buddies hadn’t fucked it up too badly. Should’ve gotten his mom involved, but she probably would’ve gone totally overboard. Give the woman an inch and she’d take a mile.

  All he wanted a mile of was Ruby, her dark hair all soft and blown out, and that shirt was giving him ideas. He’d tried his damnedest to keep his eyes on the road so they wouldn’t wreck on their way up, but it hadn’t been easy with her cleavage swelling with every breath she’d taken. She pretty much got him drooling no matter what she was wearing and no matter how frizzy her hair was—even when she rolled her eyes and told him she was a mess, she still looked goddamn edible to him—but she’d made an effort to look especially nice and he wanted her to know he’d noticed. That she’d taken the time to make this special, that she thought he was worth making an effort for…made him feel ten feet tall.

  “Wow.”

  The word had come out of Ruby’s mouth, but it could’ve escaped from his, too. His friends might be dudes, but they’d done a bang-up job. Or maybe they’d gotten their better halves involved because his apartment looked awesome. And that was just the living room and the kitchen.

  “Do you like it?”

  Ruby’s gaze was skipping over everything, from the new couch and coffee table, to the flowers—damn, they’d even gotten flowers—on the breakfast bar that divided the kitchen from the living room. And he didn’t think she’d failed to notice the row of kids’ movies that now took up the bottom shelf of his entertainment center, below all of his Marvel and Bond flicks.

  “I do…”


  Her mouth said yes, but the line between her brows said she wasn’t so sure.

  “But?”

  “But…” She turned to him and screwed up her face. “I assumed you weren’t kidding about the milk-crate furniture. This isn’t exactly dorm-room chic, Nate. And either you’re the world’s neatest bachelor or a lot of this is brand-new.”

  To prove it, she reached out and tugged on a tag that was hanging off the back corner of the couch and then went pale when she turned it over and saw the price. Dammit.

  This was okay. She was going to realize sooner or later that he’d done this for her and Chloe, and he was prepared for that. He’d really been hoping to get that raincheck from earlier cashed before she did, but he could work with this.

  He swept up her hand in his and squeezed, pulling her down the hall. “I might’ve picked out a few new things. Come on, I’ll show you.”

  The door to what had been his home office was propped open and still smelled of fresh paint. It had gone from a contractor’s white to a light turquoise he’d thought Chloe would like, and there were new linens on the bed he’d previously kept in there for visitors. Mostly Van, and he thought she’d understand that she and Willa would have to sleep on the pullout couch.

  There were pictures of horses on the walls, and some horse books in the bright white bookshelves, plus a unicorn lamp on the small corner desk. It looked kinda spare, but Chloe had stuff of her own at home to fill in the gaps.

  “Did you… Is this… How did you…?”

  Speechless wasn’t Ruby’s usual MO, and he felt satisfaction welling in his chest. He’d surprised her.

  “Come on, that’s not all of it.”

  Nate took her hand and had to almost drag her down the hall. Clearly, she was so stunned by the awesomeness that she wanted to look around, but there would be time to fully appreciate everything later.

  He bypassed the bathroom in the hall, because the narwhal towels and shower curtain could wait. Hopefully his buddies had come through in his room—which he needed to start thinking of as “their” room because Ruby would be sleeping here beside him every night soon—and when he flicked on the light, he saw that they had.

  The wall across from the bed was a bright red and the bed linens were white with poppies splashed all over them. And instead of a stack of milk crates, there was a nightstand with a real lamp, not one of those clip-on jobbers he’d had since his MIT days. Even better, there was a second nightstand on the other side. What side of the bed would Ruby want? Did she have a side of the bed? Maybe the one closest to the door in case Chloe had a bad dream? Did ten-year-olds still look for their parents when they’d had a bad dream? Man, he had a lot to learn about kids, but he could do it.

  He waited for Ruby to say something. Preferably, “Wow, Nate, I love it. I can’t wait to move up here with you, it’s beautiful, and we’re going to be so happy. But before I run home to pack, let’s christen the new sheets with sex so dirty they’ll need a wash before we can sleep on them,” but he’d take a simple, “Wow, thank you.” Nothing came. She was standing there, her arms crossed and her knuckles white on her elbows. Maybe she was fretting, because that’s what she did, but she shouldn’t. He’d thought of everything. Which maybe he should tell her so she wouldn’t have to worry anymore.

  “Hey, if you’re worried because you don’t know what you’re going to do with your house when you move up here, don’t. I was talking to Birk, the psychologist yoga dude at Firefly Falls? And he’s been thinking about buying a place. I told him about yours, and he thought it sounded perfect. He’s super-handy so he likes the idea of a fixer-upper, and he’d still give you a good price for it. And I made a spreadsheet with all the other towns around here that have good schools and aren’t too far from barns where Chloe could ride in case you don’t want to live here, and I started looking on Craigslist and some other places for jobs for you. You could waitress or work at a sports store because you’re super-qualified, but if you don’t want to work right away, that’s cool. There’s a lot of colleges around here so you could go to school and do whatever you wanted, or you know, take a break. You’ve been busting your ass for at least ten years, probably more than that, and if you want to take a few months or hell a few years off and just focus on Chloe, I get it. I’ve got a bunch of money saved up, and even if I didn’t, I can totally afford a two-bedroom apartment almost anywhere.”

  He was breathless from spilling all the awesome stuff he’d done, and he felt kind of like a panting dog who’d retrieved a far-flung tennis ball and who was waiting for his treat and to be told what a good boy he was. Because come on, he’d totally nailed this, and she was going to be so happy that she didn’t have to worry about anything anymore. He’d fixed it. Stepped up, given her everything she wanted, and now he just had to wait for her to find the words to tell him how awesome he was.

  ***

  “What the actual fuck, Nate? How fucking dare you?”

  Judging by the way Nate’s face fell, that wasn’t the reaction he’d been expecting or hoping for. And just to make herself extra clear, she shoved him in the chest.

  “Seriously, what the hell?”

  He stared at her, rubbing where she’d just pushed him. “I thought—”

  “Oh, I know what you thought. You thought I’d swoon in your arms and tell you how wonderful you are to have rescued me from my wretched existence, is that it? You swoop in, make your apartment look like a Pottery Barn catalogue shoot, sell my house, and plan out the rest of my life? What, you didn’t already buy us a house with a barn and a horse for Chloe? Where’s my apron and recipe for pot roast? Or maybe you don’t want to introduce your girlfriend who’s only got a high school diploma to your friends, so you want me to go back to school and become a… I don’t know, Nate, what kind of degree would be acceptable to you? A nurse? A teacher? Or maybe you want me to be an engineer like you or a scientist like Van or Willa.”

  “I didn’t sell your house, and I—”

  “But you would’ve if you could’ve. You want me to join your mother’s goddamn garden club, too? Have a pitcher of Tipsy Arnies waiting for you when you get home every night? Is this closet half full of clothes you think I should wear? Did you pick those out, too?”

  She flailed her arm wildly toward the sliding doors, not wanting to actually open it to see if her ranting accusation was true. What she wanted was to break something. She wanted to pummel Nate with her fists, but she might actually hurt him and, no matter how angry she was, she’d never hurt anyone. But goddamn, she’d never been so wounded and humiliated and furious in her whole life.

  How could he have sprung all of this on her without consulting her at all? If he’d mentioned one word about this to Chloe, she was going to have his head on a platter. Surely he had a whole set of brand-new dishes and cutlery for her to do it with.

  And while everything he’d picked was beautiful, and a lot of it would be stuff she’d pick herself if she had the time and the money, she hadn’t. And there was no way she could accept any of this, nor could she let Chloe see her accept any of it. She wasn’t going to be the kind of single parent who uprooted their kid just because someone promised her a fairytale. She couldn’t afford it, in any way. And Nate wanted a fucking cupcake? Hell, no.

  She was breathing so hard her chest hurt, and her head was swimming. The night she’d so been looking forward to had just turned into some kind of Stepford wife boot camp, and that’s not what she was here for. She’d wanted to believe that Nate liked her just the way she was, but apparently he had some kind of My Fair Lady fetish and he’d just been waiting to spring it on her until she’d gotten attached. Well, fuck that. Fuck all of it, because while her life wasn’t perfect, it was hers and Chloe’s. She’d built it for them out of scraps, and she wasn’t going to have some trust-fund baby come along and act as though everything she’d worked so hard for was something to be swept aside and replaced because he could afford it.

  Tears were welling in
her eyes, and she wanted to let them loose but she wouldn’t. She didn’t want Nate to see her cry. Instead, she swallowed them and spoke through gritted teeth.

  “I want to go home, please.”

  Nate blinked at her, his shoulders slumped, his eyes wide and bewildered. He didn’t say anything, and she wanted to yell at him. Maybe steal his car keys and leave. Go back to her hovel and her shitty-ass life that wasn’t good enough for him.

  “Nate. I want to go home. Now.”

  She wanted to threaten to walk out and take a train or a bus, but if she spent money on getting home—and it wouldn’t be a little, it’s not as though Briarsted was on a Greyhound route—she wouldn’t be able to eat for the next couple of weeks. Either that or after everything they’d sacrificed, she’d have to cancel Chloe’s camp and get a pittance of a refund because it was so freaking close. Plus, her kid would be heartbroken and would sulk for months, and she wouldn’t even be able to be annoyed at her for it. Chloe loved riding. Getting Chloe to camp was how she’d met Nate, and wouldn’t it just be the cherry on top of this shit sundae if Chloe wasn’t able to go because Ruby had to use the money to get away from the man she’d only wanted to backseat bang in the first place? Dammit. And Nate was just standing there.

  Finally, he held up his hands, although if he was trying to ward off her anger, he was far too late. “I will absolutely take you home. But first I wanted to say I wasn’t trying to make you feel bad or like you weren’t good enough. I love you exactly the way you are, but I also know you worry a lot, and that if the world were a perfect place, your life would look different. I…I wasn’t trying to make you fit in with my life, I was trying to give you the life you want because I can. I’m an engineer. I solve problems, that’s what I do.”

  She’d felt it for the past couple of months, a slow assembly of thoughts and feelings. Like making a popsicle-stick sculpture and having to eat all the popsicles to do it. Sticky and messy and sometimes overwhelmingly sweet. And now that he’d said it out loud, she knew what each of their moments together had built. It was love. She loved Nate. Or, at least, she had until he’d decided she was something that needed to be fixed.