by Kate Tilney
“Don’t mind my dad. He’s harmless.”
His father. Of course. With the full beard, broad shoulders, and surly disposition, he’s just like Zeke. Except with white hair.
Zeke drops my bags at my feet.
“We should probably have a bite to eat.”
I nod and wince.
He rolls his eyes. “You should also probably keep your head still.”
I nearly nod again, but remember the advice I’ve just been given. “Okay.”
He looks like he might have something else to say. Before either of us can speak, Stone flies back into the room, a remote control in his hands, the whirring wheels of an electronic firetruck following him.
“See!” the little boy cries out. “I told you it was cool.”
Zeke ruffles the boys hair before heading into the kitchen. My heart flutters. It’s been a long time since I’ve been around a family. Longer since I’ve felt at home. Oddly enough, I do here.
Zeke
When I get up in the middle of the night to take a leak, I notice light glowing from the living room. I finish up in the bathroom and head down the hall to investigate.
In the nest of blankets and pillows Stone made for our guest, I find Britt curled up and staring at her computer screen. A twinge of guilt flickers inside of me. I tried getting her to take my bed, but she refused. She insisted the couch was comfier than the mattress she’d been sleeping on in L.A.
Black and white images flicker on the computer. I squint.
“Are you watching The Wizard of Oz?”
Britt jumps in her seat, nearly sending the laptop flying. She grabs hold of it just before it hits the ground, wincing.
“Sorry,” I mutter as she pulls the headphones out of her ears. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”
She presses a hand against her chest. “You’re fine. I guess I’m just a little jumpy.”
I can’t blame her. She’s had a tough couple of days.
“Weren’t you able to sleep?”
“Not really.” She looks a little sheepish. “I know you said I wouldn’t die if I went to sleep with a mild concussion, but I didn’t want to risk it either.”
Sighing, I scratch the back of my neck. I should go back to bed. Leave as much distance between the two of us. But those violets eyes look up at me, and it’s like a laser beam sucking me in to her.
“Want some company?”
Her face lights up and she sits up to make room for me on the couch. She offers me one of the earbuds and I put it in.
“This is my favorite part.” She hits play and Dorothy steps out of her house and into Oz.
We silently watch. She jumps when the Wicked Witch appears in a flash of smoke, and I grin.
By the time Dorothy and her cast of misfits reach the wizard, I’m more focused on the warm, curvy body pressed to my side than I am on the movie. I lean toward her an inch and breathe in. She smells like roses and rain.
My dick twitches. I shift in my seat.
Those violet eyes, turn up toward me. “We used to watch this movie all the time when I was growing up.”
“It was one of my mom’s favorites.”
Britt’s face lights up. “Do you ever watch it together still?”
I shake my head. “Mom died a couple years ago.”
Her face falls. “I’m so sorry.”
I lift a shoulder. “She led a good life.”
And she’d been sick for a long time. She was ready to go, even if it was hard for “her boys.” That’s what she always called Dad, Stone, and me.
“Did you watch any other movies together?”
“She loved all the old big budget musicals. Anything with Judy Garland or Gene Kelly.”
“They’re two of my all-time favorites.” The joy is back on her face. Her lips are upturned toward mine. Close enough I could lean forward and taste her. I wonder how she’d taste. “They’re what made me want to become an actress.”
I pull back. “Actress?”
“That’s why I was in L.A.” She turns her gaze back to the screen. “I packed up my car the day after high school graduation and set out to try my luck in Hollywood.”
“Were you lucky?”
“I booked a couple of commercials that first year and did some community theater.” Her shoulders sag. “But mostly I waited tables and sold clothes and homegoods. Last month, after going on yet another audition that didn’t pan out, I figured if I hadn’t made it in six years, it was time to head home.”
Six years. That’s about how long my ex-wife has been in L.A. trying to land her big break. She came back once a few years ago. For two weeks, she got Stone’s hopes up that we’d be a family again. In actuality, all she’d done was serve me with divorce papers and forfeited her rights to custody.
The call of the screen—the need to be in the limelight—was more important than her family.
It’s just been Stone and me and our life here since. And that’s enough. There’s no room for anything or anyone else. Not even a violet-eyed woman with a nice rack.
Tugging out the earbud, I hand it back to Britt. “I’d better get some rest. Let me know if you need anything.”
Without waiting for an answer, I head back to bed. Keeping my distance is best for both of us. We’ll only end up disappointing each other.
Chapter Four
Britt
Zeke is noticeably icier at the breakfast table. He barely utters a greeting as he pushes a box of cereal toward me.
“Bowls are in the cupboard.”
Though I’m not totally comfortable rooting through someone else’s kitchen cupboards, I do as he suggests. Though his suggestions sound more like commands.
Once I’m seated at the table, Stone launches into a story about all of his friends in town. By now I’ve worked out that he’s about four. And apparently he and his friends from pre-school are putting on some sort of pageant in town.
When there’s a break in the conversation, I direct my attention toward Zeke, who is brooding into a mug of coffee.
“Is there a mechanic or tow company I should call.”
“I already called them.”
“Oh.” Well then. “Thank you. Did they give an estimate?”
“We’ll check when we head into town.”
It’s obvious Zeke is already regretting his rash invitation to have me stay at the cabin. The sooner I can get back on the road, the better.
I just hope I can afford the repairs. When I was scared to sleep last night, I did some research on how much it all might cost. While my insurance company should cover the damage to the car, the Internet says bodywork can take up to a week or two if it’s serious. As for the catalytic converter, well, let’s just say I’ll be driving on fumes to get home.
Much as I hate the thought, I may need to call my parents and ask for a loan until I can get a job. They’ll do it, but I’ll have to endure their “I told you so” lecture. I’m already due for one about my Hollywood misadventure.
I stare down into my bowl of Corn Flakes and gloomily consider my life and the poor choices that have brought me here.
The shadow hangs over me as I go through the motions of removing the bandage from my head, getting dressed, and heading out to the truck. Zeke straps Stone into his child seat then offers me his hand to help me.
Lifting me up, he gives me a gentle squeeze. “Don’t worry. It’ll be okay.”
I blink at him. Is Mr. Grouch actually being nice to me or is this another concussion symptom? My late-night web search did say some people with head injuries experience mental confusion.
Stone fills the car ride with a steady stream of babble, peppering me with questions about the ocean and Disneyland. It’s hard to stay in a gloomy mood when your pint-sized companion is bubbling with excitement. Even Zeke seems to be thawing, even chuckling—twice—at something Stone says.
Fatherhood suits him. The thought warms my belly a second before I dismiss it.
Our stop at the mechanic does
n’t take long. The news is mixed. Zeke was right. My catalytic converter is in fact done. However, the mechanic has one he can refurbish and put in my car for a discount. It won’t last forever, but it should get me home. The damage from the tree branch isn’t terrible either. I may be able to get my car back as soon as tomorrow evening.
“I told you it would be okay,” Zeke says as we head outside. I’m feeling too light to take exception to his “I told you so” now that I know I’ll be spared at least one from my parents.
After making sure I’m fine with the arrangement, Zeke leaves Stone and I to sit on the green space in front of the community center while he runs into his father’s general store.
“Did you ever meet my mom?”
Stone’s question nearly gives me a heart attack. “What do you mean?”
“Dad said Mom went away to be an actress. I thought maybe you met her.”
I shake my head as a piece falls into place. So that’s where Stone’s mom has gone. I feel a stab of guilt, though I don’t know why. It’s not my fault she is gone.
“Want to play a game?” I ask, hoping to shift the subject. “It’s called charades.”
Stone jumps to his feet in excitement. It’s only as I’m explaining the rules of the game that I realize this maybe isn’t the easiest one to play with only two people. Especially when one of us can’t read and neither of us have a pen or paper to write on.
We make it work with a variation. Each of us takes turns giving the other a prompt.
Stone starts by ordering me to be a lion. I pull the scrunchie out of my hair and turn it into a mane before I roar and pretend to groom myself. He busts into giggles.
I respond by giving him the word tree. With my assistance, he widens his stance to make a trunk out of his legs, holds his arms out, and waves them in the wind.
Then I become an elephant, and he becomes a car. I become a monkey. He becomes a goat. We go on and on, until we’re both sprawled on the ground laughing and breathless. When I sit up again, Stone launches himself at me. My arms wrap around him, and he squeezes me close.
“You’re the best, Britt. I think I love you.” My heart flutters at the unexpected affection.
I give him a gentle squeeze and look up to see Zeke standing a few feet away, staring with an unreadable expression. I might be mistaken, but I think he’s smiling. He does it so rarely, it’s hard to tell.
Whether or not it’s a smile, his steady stare has my heart melting again. It’s not the only part of me that’s melting for this big, strong man with a soft spot.
Chapter Five
Zeke
For the rest of the day, I can’t get the image of Stone hugging Britt out of my head. From where I was standing, it was hard to tell who needed the hug more—Stone or Britt.
It took all of my willpower not to swoop them both up into my arms. Or to pull her in for a kiss.
I know it would be better to keep them away from each other. It’ll only make it harder for Stone when she leaves town. But I haven’t seen him so happy in such a long time. I can’t bring myself to keep them apart.
Worse, I can’t seem to keep away either.
After finishing up in town, the three of us walk through the wilderness near the cabin. With his hand holding onto hers, Stone points out different animal tracks. Britt listens to his stories with excitement and wonder.
“I can’t remember a better day,” she says as we get back to the cabin. “It’s incredible here. I don’t know how anyone could leave this place.”
Her words create a lump in my throat. If she only knew how easy it was for Stone’s mama to walk away from this place and us. How easy it’ll be for her to go in another day or two.
You should stay.
I almost say the words out loud, but I don’t. I’m not going to let a starry-eyed woman turn me into a pathetic, pleading sap again.
Instead, when she offers to make dinner for Stone, my dad, and me, I stay outside to chop wood. With every swing, I weigh the pros and cons of giving in to my growing feelings for her.
Chop. She’s leaving as soon as her car is ready.
Chop. She’s a natural with Stone. And they seem to be crazy about each other.
Chop. She says she’s leaving Hollywood. But does a person ever really give up wanting to be famous?
Chop. Just hearing her laugh fills me with a happiness I didn’t know I still had in me. She makes me wonder if there really is such a thing as second chances.
I’ve never wanted anyone so badly. I ache with how much I want her.
Okay, that was three pros in a row. But just because there seem to be a lot of pros, I can’t ignore those two cons.
Not even when she serves the best meal any of us bachelors have eaten since before my mom died. Or when she has my dad in the palm of her hand after serving him an extra piece of apple pie.
We Masters men are weaklings for a pretty face and a good meal.
Still, when my dad suggests I show Britt the view from the highest peak on my land while he handles bath and bedtime, I can’t think of a good enough reason to say no.
Britt and I hike wordlessly, her grasping on to my hand as I help her up rockier terrain. Her warm, soft skin feels so right against my own. Every so often I catch a whiff of rosebuds. I grow hard thinking about seeing how soft the rest of her feels.
We reach the crest in about twenty minutes. Britt’s breath catches in her throat as she takes in the view, the sun slowly setting behind the peaks.
“Okay,” she whispers. “I know I keep saying it, but this . . . this is the most beautiful place I’ve ever been.”
With her face upturned toward mine, her violet eyes shimmering, I’m powerless to resist. My arms slide around her waist and I pull her up on her tiptoes as my lips find hers.
She sighs, grabbing onto my flannel shirt. Her lips part, granting me access to her mouth. As her tongue timidly connects with mine, fire courses through my veins. My hands reach down to her round ass. I lift her up, bringing her legs around me.
All I feel is need. For her. Here and now.
There’s no avoiding the inevitable any longer. I tear my mouth away and rest my cheek against hers.
“I need you,” I whisper.
Her hands move down to my length, which is pressed against her. Clenching my eyes shut, I savor the feel of her fingers stroking me through the denim.
“Take me.”
With that order, I set her back on the ground and find the bottom of her shirt. I pull it up and over her head. Tossing it aside, my gaze feasts hungrily on her smooth skin. My hands follow where my eyes have been as I capture her mouth in another soul-crushing kiss.
With one hand, I cup the side of her breast. My thumb rubs her nipple through the silk and satin of her black bra.
She moans as my other hand slides to the waistband of her leggings. My fingers slip under the fabric, and I find her bare—no panties, no hair. My long middle finger slides through her folds. She’s wet.
I pull back then, my gaze meeting her wide eyes. I lift the finger to my lips and take my first real taste of her. My cock grows painfully hard. I can’t wait much longer.
Neither can Britt. She unbuttons my flannel shirt, and I spread it on the grass. After taking off our shoes and peeling her leggings from her full hips, I pull her down to lay on my shirt. Kneeling between her thighs, I rub my whiskered chin against her smooth skin. She wriggles against the contact. Pulling her legs over my shoulders, I grab her by the ass and raise her to my lips.
She cries out as my tongue slides into her, tasting—gorging. My tongue moves around her nub and into her, stroking and stoking. Her breathing becomes more labored. She pushes against me, urging me on.
She screams. My name echoes off the trees and mountains around us. As I hear and see her fall apart, I know there’s no going back now.
I need to have her and make her mine in every way possible.
Britt
When I’m able to think again, my eyes fl
y open. Zeke is leaning over me. His firm hands stroke the sides of my cheek. His thumb glides over my bottom lip, still bruised from kissing him.
Though it’s been a couple of minutes, the remnants of my orgasm still pulse through my veins.
And I’m hungry for more. My hands fly up and my fingers dive into his red hair, bringing his mouth to mine. His hand slides down to my breast, caressing it once again. My flesh overflows his hands. Breaking the kiss, his lips lower to nibble on the skin above my bra. He lifts me up to unhook the bra. Casting it aside as he takes my nipple into his mouth. My toes curl into the grass.
“God you’re beautiful,” he says, before moving to suckle on the other breast.
Though my agent said I’d never have a chance in Hollywood unless I dropped at least thirty pounds, Zeke makes me feel perfect the way I am. As he worships every inch of my body, I want to be his—only his—now.
“You’re overdressed.”
His mouth stills, and I take advantage, sitting up. Pushing him onto his back, I reach for the button of his jeans. Then, I lower the zipper slowly as he watches me through a hooded gaze. Tugging his jeans and boxers down his hips, his cock springs free.
I eye it hungrily. Leaning forward, I lick the tip of it, tasting the saltiness of his pre-cum. I grip his length, stroking him. My lips wrap around him. Closing my eyes, I take more and more of him into my mouth. I hum against him, and his hands reach down to grasp onto the back of my head.
“Jesus,” he groans. His hips lift, encouraging me to take even more.
I move up and down his length before he suddenly pulls me up.
“I don’t want to cum in your mouth.” His voice is husky as he gazes down at me. “Not this time.”
“I’m on the pill,” I blurt out.
A second later, Zeke pulls me on top of him, so I’m straddling him. His hard dick presses against my folds. I rub against him, teasing us both.
With his fingers digging into my hips, Zeke lifts me, lowering me slowly onto his length. My eyes flutter shut as I stretch to accommodate his size, my hands brace against his chest.
