Never You

by Stacy Gold

  The oven beeped again and Sam’s head popped up over Morgan’s shoulder. “Hey, Daniel. I’m pretty sure the chicken’s not going to jump in the oven by itself.”

  “It might. It’s pretty fresh chicken.” I squeezed Morgan’s fingers and did the last thing I wanted to do, let go. Grabbing the heavy glass casserole dish I opened the oven one-handed. Heat slammed into my face, reminding me of the wood stove at the hut. And what all happened in front of that wood stove. My dick twitched, but I ignored it. I’d be damned if Morgan thought I was only in this to get laid. I could get laid anytime. I wanted to be with her in every way possible.

  I slid the chicken in the oven, set the timer, and remembered my manners. “Can I get you something to drink? Beer, wine, water?”

  “I’ll start with water. Thanks.”

  “Hey Daniel, come on. They’re playing our song, and I don’t know when I’ll get to dance with you again.” Tab’s voice rang out from the living room, along with Sheryl Crow singing about things being all right.

  I didn’t want to walk away from Morgan yet. Or possibly ever. But Tabitha was headed back to Pullman soon, so I reached behind my back to untie my apron.

  “Brotherly duty calls. Be right back.” I winked. Morgan snickered.

  Yes! I’m totally in.

  ****

  This, I had to see. Even after a week of thinking about him, and us, and talking it all over with Taya, I still didn’t have Daniel figured out. And I wanted, desperately, to figure him out. I needed to know I could trust him before we took things any further. Until then, my walls were staying firmly in place.

  I followed Daniel into the living room. In the blink of an eye, he and Tabitha pushed a couple of well-worn but lovely mid-century chairs and a wood coffee table against the walls, and rolled up the oriental rug. He held out a hand, and swung her into a very professional-looking dance position. At least to my untrained eye.

  The energy around them seemed to swell, and then they floated across the scuffed hardwoods, spinning and gliding in the soft lamplight. The words of the song echoed the admiration and love in Tabitha’s eyes.

  Sam came up beside me. “Water?”

  I nodded and took the glass, keeping my eyes on Daniel. With his hair falling out of his usual messy ponytail, his dark wash jeans and azure wool sweater, he could’ve been the lead in any romantic comedy. The guy who shows up at the wedding to sweep the girl off her feet. If only she’ll let him.

  “So, waltzing. How did that happen?”

  Sam laughed. “When Tabs’ middle-school had their first father-daughter dance, she freaked about going without Dad. So, she figured if she and Daniel crushed it on the dancefloor, people would focus on that instead of why she was there with her brother.”

  “Wow. Smart. But how did she convince Daniel? Not many teenage boys would willingly learn to waltz with their little sister.”

  She shrugged, and leaned a shoulder against the wall. “I don’t know how much he told you about our childhood, but Daniel, all of us, we had to grow up fast. He drove me nuts half the time, but he’d do anything for us. He’s the one who saved up and paid for weeks of dance lessons for the two of them.”

  Bile burned the back of my throat. I misjudged him so badly, for so long, just because he’s gorgeous. Surrounded by the people who loved him, I kept being reminded how much he had going on beneath that underwear model exterior.

  “You know, he really likes you.”

  My breath caught. “Why do say that?”

  “You’re the first woman he’s ever brought home.”

  So, he was telling the truth. I swallowed down another flood of bile. “It’s funny, but I’m not sure why he likes me. I was pretty much a bitch to him all season.”

  “I think that’s part of the attraction.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Women have been falling at Daniel’s feet since he was too young to know what to do with them. You made it clear right away you weren’t interested in him just because he’s good-looking.”

  “Huh.” I sipped my water and let that revelation sink in. I always thought he loved being the hot guy women would jump in bed with at the drop of a hat. Yet another way I’d misjudged him.

  “Look, I know he comes off like a player, but that’s how he protects himself. It’s just…” Sam let out a breath. “He’s letting you in. Be careful with his heart.”

  Sheryl Crow faded out, and the mandolin opening to my favorite Goo Goo Dolls song faded in.

  “It’s not exactly a waltz, but may I have this dance?” Daniel held out his hand, a tiny smile playing on his lips. The lips I suddenly wanted to kiss like my life depended on it.

  I glanced at Sam. She tipped her glass toward the makeshift dance floor.

  “You may.” I slid my hand into his, his palm hot against mine. A reminder of all the other places his hands had been. I clenched my thighs against the tingling between them.

  He spun me in close enough that our torsos touched, just a little. Just enough to make me wish they touched more.

  All week I’d wondered if that night, how he made me feel, how I felt about him, had been a fluke. Now I knew the answer.

  He stepped forward. I focused on the floor between us, and on not tripping over my feet or stepping on his.

  “Relax. I got this.” His voice rumbled from his chest to mine. His arm curved around me, like he’d catch me if I stumbled but never cage me in.

  Daniel swept me along to the building notes of the song. His tenor filled my ear, whisper-singing about wanting me to know who he is. The last hard, defensive parts of me softened.

  I glanced up and his hazel eyes met mine, full of admiration, lust, joy, and a whole lot of things I wasn’t one hundred percent sure I was ready to believe in. But I wanted to.

  We swooped around, and he dipped me almost to the ground and kissed my forehead, his lips soft and gentle and sweet. My heart clogged my throat.

  Standing me upright, he brought my hand to his mouth.

  And… I melted into a pile of goo right there on the living room floor.

  Who am I kidding? I want him. This. All of it.

  ****

  The next few hours were packed with good convo, snappy banter, and my famously fantastic food. Every time Morgan smiled or laughed, which was a lot, my heart tried to fly out of my chest and swoop around the room. The way she fit in with my family, like my hand fits in my ski glove, was about the best thing ev-ER. Right up there next to that last twenty-four we’d spent together.

  She stood and picked up a double handful of dirty dishes from the table. “Thank you, Morgan, but you’re our guest.” Mom took the plates out of her hands. I reached to clear more dishes, but she stopped me with a tiny shake of her head. “Why don’t you two relax for a bit before dessert.”

  “Sounds good.” I turned to Morgan. “Tea?”

  She nodded. “Thanks.”

  I snatched up a half-full casserole dish and headed into the kitchen for a pair of mugs. Making for the dedicated hot water tap at the sink, I nudged Sam out of my way with my hip. She flicked foam at me, and a bubble landed on my sweater.

  I narrowed my eyes and set down the mugs. “Is that the way you want to play it?”

  Sam giggled and flicked more foam my way. I lunged for the sprayer nozzle and aimed it at Sam.

  Mom cleared her throat and pushed between us, dropping a handful of dishes in the sink. Sam shrugged, and I let go of the nozzle and pulled two bags out of the box of tea on the windowsill.

  Morgan stood on the other side of the island, busy trying to wipe the grin off her face.

  “C’mon. Let’s sit on the front porch.” I gathered our mugs and headed down the hall to the coat closet. “Grab our jackets?”

  Morgan opened the front door. I beelined for the wood swing hanging from the rafters, one of my favorite spots to chill. The door closed, shutting out the light and music and warmth streaming from inside. Drizzle did a soft tap dance on the roof.
>
  Slipping on our coats, we settled into the pile of cushions on the swing. We were officially alone. At last. I handed Morgan her mug.

  She brought it up and inhaled. “Chamomile?”

  “Yep.”

  The smile that ran across her face warmed me way more than the tea in my hand. He shoots, he scores.

  She sat close, but not near close enough. I stretched my arm across her shoulders and tugged her in to my side. She fit just right, and I didn’t ever want to let her go. If she felt the same way, I’d be the luckiest guy on the face of the earth. And I didn’t think I could wait much longer to find out.

  “Dinner was amazing. Thank you.”

  “You’re amazing. I’m glad you came.” I leaned in and slid my lips across her cheek.

  She turned her face and her lips met mine, so soft. So sweet. I traced her jaw with my fingertips, then her cheek, trying to memorize her face, and everything else about her. Her hand curved around my neck, and damn, I wanted to stay like that forever, slowly tasting each other in the silvery glow of the streetlight. I sure as hell hoped she did too.

  Now or never.

  I slowed our kiss and pulled my mouth away. She sighed a little, the puff of breath hitting my lips.

  She digs me. I got this.

  I licked my lips. “Dessert isn’t going to taste near as good as you.”

  “I don’t know. Your desserts are pretty spectacular.”

  “Better than my kisses?”

  “Hmmmmm. Good question.” She screwed her face up in exaggerated thoughtfulness and stared out at the curtain of rain, one finger tapping against her chin. “Your kisses are pretty spectacular too, but that chocolate torte…”

  “Damn. Maybe I should stop making dessert for you until we get this settled.”

  She gasped and brought a hand to her chest. “You wouldn’t.”

  “It’s either that, or I’m gonna have to seriously up my kissing game.”

  She licked her lips and crossed her legs. “I’m happy to help you practice. Take one for the team.

  “I might have to take you up on that offer.” I brought my mug up to hide my shit-eating grin and took a sip of lukewarm liquid. “Better drink your tea before it gets cold.”

  I pushed with one foot to get us moving, and stroked her shoulder to the mellow rhythm of the swing. We sipped and swung in silence, and I did my best to stay nonchalant. Not easy when my heart hung by a thread. I was dead serious when I said I’d wait for her if she chose the job in Cali, but I didn’t want to wait.

  I wanted more of this. I wanted more of her. More than I’d ever wanted anything in my life.

  Time to quit stalling.

  Setting my mug down, I cleared my throat and went for the gold. “So, did you decide what you’re going to do this summer?” I gave the swing another push and leaned back into the cushions like I didn’t have a care in the world.

  She nodded, but didn’t look at me. My heart dropped a little.

  Shit. Maybe I’d read her wrong.

  The swing creaked. The rain tapped. My stomach twisted like a skier rag-dolling down a slope.

  She took a sip of tea, put her mug on the floor, and inhaled. “I’m going to work for the paper in Bellingham. Chase my dream of being an environmental journalist.” Her eyes flicked up to my face and back down. “And hopefully, if all goes well, I’m also going to be doing you.”

  “Seriously?

  “Seriously.”

  “Sweet.” I heard her, but the words weren’t settling in. I didn’t know how to react. Luckily, she did. Morgan pulled me in tight and kissed me like we’d been apart a year instead of a week. I poured everything into it, making sure she knew how happy she made me, and how happy I was gonna make her—for the rest of our lives.

  When we came up for air, I had to ask, “So, was it the bonus?”

  “Don’t flatter yourself. That was the job I wanted. I took it.”

  I cupped her face and smoothed my thumb over the silky skin on her cheek. Tilted my head, and drifted my mouth over hers. She tried to meet my lips. I backed away.

  “So, you don’t want the bonus? The bonus holds no charm for you?” I dragged my lower lip across hers, barely.

  Her voice went breathy. “Oh no, don’t get me wrong. I like the bonus quite a bit. I am very excited about the bonus.”

  “Good. ‘‘Cuz I’m going to be the best bonus ev-ER.”

  “That’s what I’m counting on.”

  About the Author

  Compulsive tea drinker. Outdoor sports junkie. Lover of good (and bad) puns.

  Stacy Gold gave up her day job as Communications Director of a nonprofit mountain biking organization to write sassy, steamy, contemporary romance novels. Her stories are packed with strong, independent women finding love and adventure in the great outdoors. When Stacy’s not busy reading or writing, you can find her dancing, laughing, or playing hard in the Colorado mountains with her wonderful hubby and happy dog.

  Wondering what music Daniel was playing in this story? Check out the Never You playlist here: http://stacygold.com/neveryouplaylist.

  ~*~

  Follow Stacy’s adventures here:

  www.stacygold.com/goldclub.

  ~*~

  Visit Stacy at

  www.stacygold.com

  Or find her on social media at

  @AuthorStacyGold

  ~*~

  To chat with Stacy Gold and other Wild Rose Press authors of erotic romance, join us at www.groups.yahoo.com/group/thewilderroses.

  Also Available

  In Deep

  Emerald Mountain Book Two

  By Stacy Gold

  Sophie Tremore is trying to build a career in the male-dominated world of Ski Patrol. Hard to do when her new boss is her smokin’ hot ex-lover. She hasn’t forgotten how he made her body tingle and her heart pound, although he’s making it a lot easier by treating her like she’s incompetent—when he’s not ignoring her existence altogether.

  Emerald Mountain Ski Patrol Director Max Demford has been doing his best to avoid working with his feisty former flame, given his judgment is clouded by those eight mind-blowing weeks two years ago. Ski patrol is dangerous enough, and no way could he handle another person he cares about getting hurt on the mountain.

  Forced to work together, their simmering attraction becomes difficult to ignore. When Sophie gets caught in a slide, an adrenaline-filled day could turn into a spectacular night they will never forget—one that could risk both their careers.

  Also Read

  Turning a New Paige:

  A Groundhog Day Romance

  Paige Holiday Book One

  By Ginny B. Nescott

  More than her car is snowed in on Groundhog Day...

  The loss of her job spurs Paige Myers to a rash decision. She needs a new start. With her car packed to the roof, she leaves behind her expensive Atlanta apartment and ex-boyfriend and heads to her aunt's home in the snowy north. When a storm forces her to seek refuge in a small town restaurant, a flamboyant waiter introduces her to his hot, straight cousin celebrating his Groundhog Day birthday.

  Paige isn’t looking for a man, but this one is hard to resist, especially when her car gets plowed in and he’s offering a warm room at the B&B. Rebound or not, it’s a Groundhog Day that melts more than the ice around them.

  Thank you for purchasing this

  publication of The Wild Rose Press, Inc.

  If you enjoyed the story, we would appreciate

  your letting others know by leaving a review.

  For questions or more

  information contact us at

  info@thewildrosepress.com.

  The Wild Rose Press, Inc.

  Stay current with The Wild Rose Press, Inc.

  Like us on Facebook

  https://www.facebook.com/TheWildRosePress

  And Follow us on Twitter

  https://twitter.com/WildRosePress

  y Gold, Never You