by Bella Andre
“It sounds like you’re all close, despite the fact that you live quite far away from many of them.”
“We are really close,” she confirmed. “Even though my dad and his brothers moved to different parts of the country after they got married, they still wanted to foster connections between their kids whenever possible. For as long as I can remember, we’ve traveled to California or Seattle or New York for birthdays and graduations, and they’ve come here many times, as well. We Sullivans love any excuse for a celebration!”
“I’ve never met a family like yours,” Duncan noted. “A family willing to help even when they don’t know whether the guy they’re helping deserves it, all because you asked them to pitch in. It’s amazing—and incredibly inspiring—to meet people who are so open.”
But she hadn’t truly been open with Duncan, had she? She had railed on him for not telling her the whole truth about his past, but hadn’t she done exactly the same thing? Hadn’t she shown him only the public Lola Sullivan, while holding everything else back?
“You’re right that my family is full of wonderful, open people. I just wish I could be as open as all of them.”
“You are, Lola.”
She shook her head. “It was so easy for me to come down on you for not opening up about your past, when the truth is that I haven’t come completely clean about mine.”
Though he didn’t prod or pry, he did reach for her hand. It felt so good when his fingers wrapped around hers. Their connection was exactly what she needed when there was so much she hadn’t admitted to anyone, not even her sisters or mother.
Not even, if she was being completely honest, to herself.
“I’ve always had such a great family and life that I’ve felt like I have no right to be sad or complain. Instead, it’s been easier to simply pretend that I don’t care about having so many bad relationships, that I’m not looking for the kind of forever love that my parents found with each other, and that my siblings and so many of my cousins have found. My whole life, I’ve let everyone think I’m too tough, too independent, having too much fun on my own to want to stop playing the field.”
Duncan’s eyes were intensely focused on her as she spoke. “Ever since you told me about what Frank did, I’ve wished I could turn back time to keep him away from you.”
“But it wasn’t just one particular man that I can pin everything on. I developed really early. And while I’ve never had to fight for attention, at the same time, I can never fade into the background. Believe me, when I was a teenager, I tried. For a few months, I wore baggy clothes that swamped me. All in blacks and grays. And I stopped speaking up in class.” She shook her head. “Fortunately, I soon figured out that nothing I did to disguise myself worked. Plus, my mom, Moira, Aunt Mary, and Aunt Claudia—they all rallied around me. From that point forward, I stopped trying to pretend I wasn’t born with this body and decided to fully embrace who I am. I love bright colors, not black. I love busy patterns and tons of layers, not minimalism. I love dangerously high heels, not flats. And the good news is that once I made these changes to embrace the real me, I was so much happier.”
She took a sip of wine before continuing. “Except when it came to men.” She sighed, thinking back to the years when she’d gone on dates every Friday and Saturday. “When I was younger and more idealistic, I wasn’t nearly careful enough with my emotions, my heart, or my body. It’s why I ended up with a guy like Frank. Even after I broke up with him, I still went out with guys I shouldn’t have given the time of day. Until one day, I woke up and realized I was sick and tired of feeling like the only worthwhile thing about me was how many positions I could get into in the bedroom. I hated feeling like my only purpose was to bring my date’s sexual fantasies to life.” She’d never admitted this much to anyone, and she appreciated that Duncan didn’t interrupt as she finally got it all out. “On top of everything else, I never imagined that I would have such a hard time being taken seriously at work. Even now that I have an established business, plenty of men still dismiss me at a glance.” Feeling more exposed than she ever had before, she said, “I’m not saying all of my experiences with men have been terrible, just that the hair-raising ones have been difficult to forget.”
Duncan’s expression had grown fiercer and fiercer as she spoke, and she got the sense that he wanted to tear apart with his bare hands all the men who had harassed, belittled, or used her. “But none of them ever—”
“No,” she said quickly. “No one ever physically hurt me. But over the years, there have been so many hands that ‘accidentally’ brushed over my hips and breasts, so many loosely veiled sexual innuendos, so many leering eyes.” She swallowed hard as she admitted everything to him. “Even though I act like it doesn’t bother me, even though I tell myself I’m going to dress exactly as I please because I’m not going to let anyone else get the best of me, the truth is that while I might not be hiding my face and figure, I am hiding something. My heart.” She looked into his eyes, letting him see what was in hers. “It wasn’t until we met that I finally started to let my walls fall away. But even then, I was so scared to let you in. Which was why I pushed you away the first chance I could. It was the only way I could make sure that you wouldn’t have a chance to see the real me…and then be disappointed that the reality didn’t match your fantasy.”
“You’re so much more than a fantasy, Lola. Anyone who isn’t a total fool would see that. You don’t always have to go above and beyond to prove yourself.” His soft, sweet, loving smile sent warmth moving through the center of her chest and radiating out to the rest of her body. “Anyone who matters can see that you’re smart and funny and kind. Absolutely beautiful, inside and out.”
She reached for him, lightly stroking her fingertips over the dark bristles of his evening shadow, before leaning forward and pressing her lips to his.
Just like his smile, it was a soft kiss. A sweet kiss. A loving kiss.
A kiss destined to lead to so much more.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Passion exploded as their pent-up need for each other burst free.
Last week, when Lola had fallen head over heels for Duncan and had finally let down her guard, she’d still held her deepest, most secret emotions and feelings inside. In the same way that Duncan had been afraid she would reject him if he bared his soul to her, darkness and all, she’d been scared too. Scared to admit, even to herself, that despite all her bravado about being empowered and strong, she had hidden large parts of her heart from everyone. Even her family.
As Duncan pulled her onto his lap, still kissing her, she relished both his touch and the hope that was blooming inside of her. Hope that he truly could be a love worth risking everything for.
Lola wasn’t lost in Duncan’s kisses—she was found. The passion, the emotion, the breathless need to be in his arms, was everything she’d once dreamed of before her dreams had been dashed by the grabbing hands and leering eyes of men who assumed she was nothing more than a brainless beauty.
Slowly, she took off his shirt, delighting in running her fingertips over the hard muscles of his chest. She loved how strong he was, and that he was clearly a very physically active person despite working in an office.
But instead of helping her get his shirt off, he cupped her face in his hands and looked into her eyes. “Are you sure about this?” His intense gaze searched hers for the answer. “Are you one hundred percent sure about me? About everything I’ve told you? About my past? About the future I want to have with you, more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life?” He kissed her, one more quick kiss that stole her breath away all over again, before adding, “I don’t want you to have any regrets.”
She opened her mouth to tell him she was sure. That she wasn’t going to have any regrets.
But the words wouldn’t come, because there was still a part of her that couldn’t stop seeing the horrified look on Moira’s face when she’d seen Duncan in her parents’ living room.
Lola wa
nted so badly to believe in him, with no reservations. But she didn’t know how to flip the switch inside of herself that quickly, from out to all the way in.
At last, she found her voice, although it was clear from his expression that he already knew what she was going to say. “I’m almost there…but I don’t want you to go. Not now.”
“I don’t want to go either.” He brushed his fingertips over the curve of her earlobe, before pulling his hand away with obvious regret. “But you mean too much to me, Lola. I can’t risk screwing things up with you. Not again.”
Though it nearly killed her not to make love with him—she’d never wanted anyone this badly, not even close—at the same time she was amazed that he cared so much about her. None of the other men she’d ever been with would have put her first the way Duncan always did.
“We don’t have to go to bed together. We can—” She had to wrack her brain to think of anything other than tearing his clothes off. “—watch a movie cuddled up on the couch, and then…” She made herself say the rest, even though it was the last thing her body wanted. “We’ll go to sleep in separate beds.”
Together, they put his shirt back on. At least hers weren’t the only hands shaking. Duncan looked as close to the edge as she felt. His eyes were burning with desire, his mouth constantly returning to hers. Between stolen kisses they cleaned up dinner, topped up their glasses of wine, then settled on the couch in front of the TV, pulling a blanket over their laps.
That was when it occurred to her that she’d never done this with any man, never simply cuddled, never knew the pleasure of having strong arms holding her tight without it being a prelude to sex. Because even though she and Duncan were both dying to rip each other’s clothes off, it was a revelation to know that they could relax together as friends too.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
He didn’t ask what she was thanking him for, simply drew her more deeply into his arms. “I’d do anything for you, Lola. Anything and everything.”
* * *
Lola was smiling as she slept in his arms, and Duncan hoped she was dreaming of him.
He would happily have remained on the couch with her while the movie played on low volume in the background, their bodies intertwined beneath the blanket as the stars twinkled through the windows. But when she shifted and made a little groaning sound, he lifted her into his arms to take her to her bedroom so that she could sleep more comfortably.
She didn’t wake up until he laid her on her bed. Her eyes fluttered open. “Duncan?”
Hearing her say his name in that husky, sleepy whisper tempted him to sink into the bed beside her and finally give in to desire. But he’d meant it when he said he couldn’t risk losing her again. Especially when it had been only a handful of hours since he’d admitted the full truth of his past to her—and she’d done the same with him. Of course she’d need time to process what she’d learned. Time to decide whether she could risk trusting him again. Loving him again.
“Yes, it’s me,” he replied, barely above a whisper. “Once I get you into bed, I’ll find my own.”
“Stay,” she said. “I want you here, in my bed.”
He would have given anything to be able to stay with her. But he couldn’t trust himself to just hold her tight all night long. Not when he knew that the first time they shared a bed, there wouldn’t be any sleeping.
So, though it was one of the hardest things he’d ever done, even harder than hitting the Pause button earlier that evening, he stroked her hair and said, “I’ll stay until you fall asleep.”
Though she tried to fight her exhaustion, the difficult past few days had taken enough of a toll that she soon gave in to the need to sleep.
* * *
Lola woke to a pitch-black sky outside her bedroom window. Instantly, she remembered that Duncan was in her cottage. She wanted to throw the covers off and dash into the guest bedroom to find out if he was lying awake thinking of her the way she was thinking of him—and if every inch of him burned with need for her the way every inch of her burned with need for him.
But he was right that even being 99.9 percent sure about trusting him wasn’t enough. Truly loving someone meant unconditional trust, and when she could look past her intense desire for him, she knew that she had that last bit of a percentage point to go.
For the first time in her life, there was a chance for a relationship to be perfectly right in a way nothing else had ever been. She’d never regret anything more than moving too fast just to scratch an itch.
If and when she and Duncan finally came together, it wouldn’t simply be to satiate their need for hot, sweaty sex. It would be to declare themselves to each other in every way—body, heart, and soul.
Which meant that when she threw off the covers, rather than heading for the guest bedroom, she went to stand under the icy-cold spray of the shower until her skin felt like it had turned to ice.
* * *
Duncan heard the shower go on and grabbed his cell phone to look at the time. Four a.m.
He’d gotten sleep in bits and pieces over the last few hours, but mostly he had been kept awake by thoughts of Lola, barely a wall away. He desperately wanted to taste her and touch her and make love to her. But he also craved more of those beautiful moments when they were simply talking or holding each other.
He didn’t have to wonder why she was showering in the middle of the night. Nor did he have to guess that she was likely standing under freezing-cold water. He’d done the exact same thing a few hours earlier.
If only he could stop the visions of water flowing over her naked skin and incredible curves, soap bubbles moving slowly across the very surface that he wanted to kiss and caress.
Duncan dropped to the floor beside the bed and launched into rigorous sets of push-ups and sit-ups. But though he worked up a sweat, he made no progress in purging the sexy visions from his mind.
Truth was, he’d never be able to do that. Not when he wanted Lola Sullivan in every way—her laugher, her bright outlook, and her lush curves.
All he could do, as night slowly turned to day, was hope and pray that nothing else would happen to ruin their chance at a beautiful future together.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Morning dawned bright and beautiful, and though Lola had been up half the night longing for Duncan, she bounded out of the bedroom and into the kitchen.
He looked absolutely gorgeous there, making coffee, and she didn’t hesitate to move into his open arms. She might not be completely sure yet, but she was so close that she refused to deny either of them this delicious closeness.
Mmmm, his strong arms around her felt so good. Loving the steady beat of his heart against hers, she nuzzled his neck and breathed him in. She could hold on to him like this forever, just never let go and be perfectly happy.
Soon, his mouth found hers, and just as it had last night, passion leaped between them. By the time they finally dragged themselves away from each other, she was amazed they’d not only managed to keep their clothes on, but also hadn’t just christened her kitchen island with their lovemaking.
One day soon, would they be able to love each other with wild abandon and nothing between them except love and trust and faith and joy? No darkness, no half-truths about their pasts, no more trying to portray themselves as anything other than who they were?
Standing with Duncan as sunlight streamed over them, Lola had never wanted anything so badly in all her life.
“Since you made dinner last night,” she said, “I’ll make breakfast. What would you like?” It was a little weird to feel so close to him, yet not know whether he was a cereal eater, preferred a toasted bagel, or couldn’t face more than a cup of black coffee in the morning.
“I’m happy with anything you’ve got on hand.”
While she appreciated his easygoing response, she wanted concrete details. “Tell me,” she said, just as she had the previous morning out on the seawall. She planned to keep saying it again and again
until she knew him as well as she knew herself. “If you were at home, what would you eat right now?”
“Oatmeal, with raisins and brown sugar.”
“I’ll have that too. I’m usually a yogurt-with-granola-type myself, but it’s nice to mix things up.”
It was funny how happy making that oatmeal with raisins and brown sugar made her, probably because it was made entirely with joy.
“How do you like your coffee?” he asked her.
“With milk and two heaping spoons of sugar.” She grinned over her shoulder from where she was stirring oats in a pot on the stove. “Three if you’re feeling particularly generous.”
“I’m not surprised you like things sweet,” he said, grinning back at her. Then his eyes filled with renewed heat as he added, “So do I.”
Both coffee and oatmeal were momentarily forgotten as they kissed again. Were it not for the buzzing of the alarm she’d set on her phone as a reminder that they needed to be in her studio in thirty minutes, she wasn’t at all sure either of them would have had the self-control to let go this time.
Though they had an intense meeting ahead of them, once they finished eating, Lola felt as though she were floating down the street to her office. It felt so right to walk hand in hand, and every smile, every kiss, every little detail they shared about themselves seemed to build the trust between them even more.
At nine a.m., they connected with her cousins for the video chat. “Thanks so much for agreeing to help out,” Lola began after everyone had made quick introductions. “Duncan is…” To say he was her friend wasn’t enough, but calling him her boyfriend didn’t seem right either. Not when they were still walking a tightrope between friendship and ultimate trust. She reached for his hand, something everyone could see on the video feed. “He means a lot to me. And after what I’ve learned about his past and how it intersects with Moira’s business, I’ve decided that I want to help him make things right on all fronts.”
