Then There Was You

by Miranda Liasson

  With one swift move, he took her in his arms and pulled her close. She was soft and warm and he didn’t know a damn thing about flowers but her scent reminded him of summer—warm sunshine and sweetness. “Sara,” he said, smoothing wisps of hair back from her face. God, she was pretty. “I don’t care about any of that. Unless, of course, you still want Tagg.”

  Her gaze met his. “I want you.”

  His heart was thundering crazily in his chest. He ached to touch her, but he needed to make certain she was all in on this. Wanted everything to be just right.

  He took her smile as a good sign. So he bent closer to capture her mouth.

  She held out a hand and pressed it against his chest. “I-I just want to make it clear, I’m in no position for a relationship. I—this is just for fun, right? I want us to be on the same page.”

  That surprised him, mostly because that was usually his line. He tried to figure out why it disappointed him a little too. Colton understood a woman like Sara wasn’t likely to hang out for long with a guy like him anyway, no matter how people praised him ad nauseam for his good deeds.

  All he knew was that he wanted her. And he’d take whatever she would give him. “Gotcha. Loud and clear.”

  Then he kissed her. Which, he was relieved to find, finally stopped all the talking. A funny thing happened when his lips met hers. Everything—the apartment, the hum of the fridge, the fireworks kids were setting off in the streets, the background humming of his nerves, ceased to be. There were just the two of them and his mouth on hers, their arms circling tight around each other.

  Sara kissed him back, their tongues tangling, their lips searching, their bodies flush. She tasted like cotton candy and a sweetness he’d been missing for years. She fit perfectly in his arms, all curvy softness. With that kiss all the years of animosity disintegrated, and he thought he must’ve been an idiot to ever bother arguing with her about anything.

  “You’re beautiful,” he murmured, running his hand under her shirt, over the warm, smooth skin of her back.

  She blushed and shook her head, smiling.

  “If you’re forcing me to take compliments, I’m going to make you do it too,” he said.

  “Just kiss me,” she said, curling her hand around the nape of his neck and kissing him deeply. A whimper escaped from her throat. When he pulled back to look at her, her eyes were dreamy, and, he thought, full of the same hunger he felt coursing through him. No nerves. A tidal wave of relief bowled through him.

  “Sara, I—” Words lingered on his lips, the need to tell her something honest. But her words stayed with him: just for fun. So he traced his finger along her cheek instead. His hand was shaking a little, and he moved it before she could see.

  When there was no sarcasm left between them, what was there? He wasn’t sure, but it didn’t feel like anything he’d ever experienced before. He tucked a strand behind her ear. “I always wanted to do that. Touch your hair.”

  “Take me to your bed now, Colt,” she said, her mouth curving upward. “I don’t want us to do it next to the coffee maker.”

  The magic words. “Whatever you say,” he said, lifting her up, loving the way she wrapped herself sweetly around him. He carried her to his bedroom, kissing her all the way.

  * * *

  Good thing Colton carried her, because Sara’s legs felt like marshmallows, weak and offering no support. She was trembling all over. Warm lava was pumping through her veins, and she thought she might be having a stroke, based on the hot and cold, the weakness, the leaden pounding of her heart. Whatever disease this was, she didn’t want to get over it.

  And oh my God, the man could kiss. She could spend hours kissing those beautiful, skilled lips.

  He laid her unceremoniously on the bed and shucked off his shirt and shorts in typical guy fashion, then stood there in all his male perfection, confidence flowing in spades. He was all sculpted hills and valleys, all tight muscle and golden skin. Then he was over her, their legs tangling, his erection pressing against the throbbing, aching pulse between her legs.

  “Colton,” she said. He was kissing her neck, behind her ear, tangling his hands in her hair, kissing her like she’d never been kissed, carefully, slowly, then suddenly demanding, consuming her, burning her up in flames. Somehow her blouse got undone and tossed off, her shorts pitched to the floor. He whispered sweet things, how beautiful she was, how happy he was that she was here with him, how he loved making love with her. She’d pegged him for a quiet man, not demonstrative at all, but again he’d surprised her. She’d never heard such words before, words that made her feel…treasured.

  He unhitched her bra effortlessly, and then his mouth was on her breast and he was using his tongue in wicked ways. Heat built in her core and flashed all through her as he kissed and suckled, her body tensing and tightening and readying for him as her fevered need for him rose. When a moan escaped her, she felt him smile against her skin.

  She drew her arms around him, up the sinewy cords of his back, fascinated by the hard muscle and contrasting softness of his skin. She slid her hand under his briefs, smoothing it over the taut muscle of his butt. “How’s your tetanus shot these days?” she murmured as she stroked him.

  “That’s my girl,” he said. “I was waiting for you to mention that. I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to dole out some payback for that.”

  “No payback,” she managed to say.

  “Oh, don’t worry. I think you might like it.” He peeled off her scrap of panty and slipped a finger into her slick wetness, stroking her swollen flesh, kissing her long and slow and deep.

  “Colton,” she said, her voice urgent, grasping his arms, tugging him over her.

  He put on a condom and she guided him into her body, clutching at his back while he entered her carefully, steadily, filling her, moving her. For a moment their gazes locked. Honesty, earnestness, connection—it all shook her. She met his gaze full on, tamping down an underlying sense of terror that somehow this man was different from any other, and she would never come out of this the same.

  Waves of pleasure rolled mercilessly through her, every muscle tightening. She could tell from the way his muscles were tensing that he was very close to release too.

  He kissed her mouth and began moving inside her, starting a rhythm that sent the little waves cascading into bigger, hotter ones, rolling through her one by one like a warm, languid summer tide. She opened to him, wrapped herself around him, embraced him with all her strength.

  “Sara,” he cried out, and then he let go, taking her with him. And she clung to him as they both plunged over the edge.

  * * *

  Colton was not a cuddler or a spooner, but he reached for Sara and pulled her to him, smoothing out her amazing hair as it fell against his neck. He inhaled its sweet scent, felt its silken weight run through his fingers. Around now was the time when he’d typically mention he had to get started early tomorrow, and the woman in question would take the hint and leave. A part of him had been hoping that once they’d made love, he would see Sara was like any other woman, that it was just sex, yada yada. Instead he’d found himself experiencing another feeling he had no real understanding of—contentment.

  She surprised him by talking first. “Tomorrow’s Sunday. I’ve got to get up early to help Nonna get ready for family dinner.” She paused. “You should come sometime. To family dinner. I mean, you’re good friends with Rafe, and Nonna loves you, so it’s not like anyone would wonder why you’re there.”

  He hesitated more than the usual time, finally deciding to be honest. “Thanks, but family dinners…just not my thing.” It wasn’t his thing. He didn’t consider that maybe she’d be the exception to his rule, because she’d said she was in this for fun. There was no point in pretending otherwise.

  “Oh, OK.” Disappointment resonated in her voice.

  “It’s nothing personal. Just that…you know, it’s…family.” Great, that was making a lot of sense. “What I mean is…”


  She kissed him quickly. “Sounds like we’re both on the same page. We’ll keep this light. I’m not offended.” She still looked a little disappointed, maybe. He did know her family’s Sunday dinner was a big deal. Something he’d never show up to casually. And he knew her family would never interpret his being there as a casual thing.

  She moved to get up. Impulsively he put a hand on her arm to hold her back. “I said I didn’t do family dinners. Not that I wanted you to go.” If she were anyone else, he’d encourage her to leave and get a good night’s rest. But he didn’t want her to go. So he tightened his hold and draped a hand around her waist. She gave in and lay back against him, resting a hand lightly on his forearm. It looked pale and creamy—delicate—compared to his much darker coloring.

  “What are you thinking about?” he asked. Also new for him. When had he ever asked that?

  She smiled. “What we just did. How I still can’t even believe it. When I think about you and me in high school—”

  “I don’t even want to talk about how I was in high school.”

  “Why not? You were handsome and popular. You had everything I wanted. Popularity, friends. I was just an ugly little duckling.”

  “I was a jerk.” He paused. “And I never thought you were ugly.”

  “Oh, come on. It’s all right. I had pimples and thick glasses and braces until I was a sophomore.”

  He shrugged. “Everyone has an awkward phase.”

  “Except you.”

  He nuzzled her neck a little. God, she smelled good. “I almost asked you to homecoming senior year.”

  “What?” She propped herself up on one elbow, giving him a view of her pretty shoulders—and her cleavage, which she’d covered loosely with the sheet. “You did not.”

  “Remember when I’d hurt my knee and was hobbling around on crutches, and you’d sprained your ankle and were in an AirCast?”

  “Oh yeah. I sprained it working at Outerspace Burgers while I was on those awful roller skates they made us wear.”

  “Yeah, well, we were sitting together at an assembly in the handicapped seats. Remember that?”

  “I remember being nervous sitting next to you. Because you were so handsome. And I felt bad for you—it was right after you’d blown out your knee. The whole school was talking about it.”

  “Everyone was telling me I’d be fine, I was a great player, I’d come back. Basically blowing smoke up my butt when the doctors told me from the beginning it was bad news. You didn’t say any of that. You just said, I’m sorry. That meant something to me. I think I understood deep inside my football career was over. I never thought I’d even make it to college without my scholarship.”

  She rubbed his shoulder. “That must’ve been a hard time for you.”

  “Honestly, I was more worried about the college part than the football part. I had to provide for Hannah. I couldn’t do that without a decent job.”

  “You had a lot of responsibility for such a young man.” Suddenly she grinned.

  “What is it?”

  “So what’s the part about me? And homecoming. I can’t wait to hear this.” Her eyes were lit up in anticipation of what he was about to say. He couldn’t help thinking he’d never seen this side of her, expectant as a little kid, her guard totally down.

  “So you sat with me and we talked and I got to thinking you were pretty nice. That I’d been wrong about you.”

  “But I went with Tagg to homecoming that year.”

  “He uninvited you, remember? After you screwed up your ankle.” Tagg had been an asshat—thinking she’d ruin his fun being on crutches. He’d eventually felt bad about it, but it had taken him long enough. “I was about to suggest we go together, as fellow invalids.”

  “Why didn’t you?”

  “Just then, Tagg came by and sat down with us. I was angry he did that to you. But he was my best friend, I couldn’t move in on him.”

  “We never would’ve lasted back then anyway,” she said with an exaggerated sigh.

  “Why not?” He heard the hurt in his voice and silently cursed himself.

  She smiled. “Because I always had my heart set on dating a professional athlete, and you clearly disappointed.”

  “Yeah, but I just might be professional at something else.” He lifted his brows to let her know what it was.

  She rolled her eyes and laughed. A snorty kind of laugh he’d never heard from her before, and he loved it. This was the real Sara, and he liked her. A lot.

  In response he rolled her over and kissed her until her laughter faded and was replaced by an entirely different kind of fun.

  * * *

  Judging by the gray light behind the shades, Sara guessed it was around five a.m. She knew because the summer light was always early, and the dark turned to gray long before the sun came up. It was one of the things she loved about summer.

  Next to her, Colton was sleeping on his side, facing her. His long lashes made him look boyish, but the muscle of his arm traveling under his pillow, and the plains and valleys of his chest clearly visible above the sheet, were all man.

  Consciousness fully dawned, and with it a surge of pure adrenaline hit her, jolting her fully awake, and suddenly she was completely freaked out. What had she been thinking, to fall asleep with him? To stay all night? That smacked of…relationship. Something she knew full well the Revolver wasn’t interested in.

  And while he might be very well acquainted with the “just fun” kind of thing they were embarking on, this was all new territory to her. She didn’t know the first thing about navigating a fling, but she did know that last night with Colton had been too perfect, their lovemaking easy and natural, how they’d fallen asleep wrapped up in each other’s arms. And she was pretty certain that thinking this way could only lead to heartache.

  Panic hit her in bursts, each one bigger than the last. Suddenly she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t take in enough oxygen. She had to get out of here. She was not ready to face him in the light of day. Somehow, she had to find some sense of control.

  Very cautiously she slid from the bed and found her bra, T-shirt, and shorts. God only knew where her panties had gone.

  She slipped on her clothes in the living room and had just picked up her sandals near the door and placed her hand carefully on the knob when she met resistance.

  In the form of a six-foot-two cop wearing nothing but navy boxer briefs, leaning over her with his hand on the door.

  “Good morning,” he said, his voice a little gravelly, the shadow of beard growth on his face sexy as sin. He moved to prop his hip up against the door and cross his arms.

  “I—um—have an emergency.” The emergency was that she was panicking and having a heart attack and she needed to get out of here. Fast.

  “That right?” he said, one brow raised. “Funny, but I didn’t see you with your beeper. And I seem to recall your saying you were off all weekend.”

  “Why could you not be a heavier sleeper?”

  “Cop reflexes.” He paused and let that sink in. “Don’t leave. Stay.”

  “You should be glad I’m leaving. Isn’t that what guys want? A woman who’s not clingy and knows when to leave?”

  “Stay,” he said again, putting his arms on either side of her against the door, caging her in, which was sexy as hell. “Please.”

  Still she stayed strong. “We just did it! Like, three times. Aren’t you exhausted?” Three times. And each time had been so, so good. Like walking-on-air kind of unbelievably good. Tagg clearly needed some lessons, because this man…

  He bent to kiss her neck, and she shuddered. “Stay because I like you being here,” he said. “And I’ll make you breakfast.” He was nuzzling her neck, and it was getting hard to think, with whatever he was doing with his lips between her neck and collarbone.

  “Sounds like breakfast might come with a price,” she said.

  He smiled against her skin. She struggled to keep up the fight, trying not to smile herself, trying not to
succumb to the warmth that was even now flooding through her.

  Her thoughts were getting muddled, and the common sense that had led her to seek out the door was rapidly fading under the onslaught of his kisses. Sara reminded herself this was just for fun. Sex for fun did not involve hanging out for hours in bed talking and then staying for breakfast. It involved cutting loose and getting out before feelings got tangled up.

  Yet his playful pleading got to her in ways she couldn’t even describe. He liked her being here. He wanted to make her breakfast. He wanted her to stay.

  He did a weird thing then. He lifted his head and hugged her. Put his arms around her and rubbed his hands up and down her back and just…held her. It was the sexiest full-body hug she’d ever had, and for a second she thought she was going to cry.

  She couldn’t talk. It felt like she had a Kleenex stuck in her throat. She didn’t dare say it out loud but she felt it, clear through her bones. Wanted. She felt wanted.

  He drew back and looked at her. Lord, she must be a mess. Crazed hair, wrinkled clothes, no makeup, plus she’d slept in her contacts and her eyes felt like a thousand needles were prickling them.

  “I never had a woman get so emotional over the thought of breakfast.” He reached over then and tilted her chin up so she had to make eye contact. The honesty in his gaze terrified her. It was as if he could see past all her bullshit. Before she could look away from that piercing blue gaze, he curled his hand around her neck very softly and gently and kissed her on the mouth.

  Then, knowing full well he’d kissed all the fight out of her, he took her hand and tugged her back to his bedroom. He was irresistible. She had no choice but to push her fear aside and follow him.

  Chapter 15

  Leonore, where’s my dad?” Sara asked at work on Monday, setting a chart on the counter.

  “He’s still in with Mrs. O’Connor,” Leonore said. “He told me to tell everyone he’s running a little behind today.”