I shrug, “Why not?”
She flings her arm out, gesturing toward him. “I’m pissed at him.”
“Pissed because he’s trying to look out for you? Nah, I’m okay with that.”
“I’ll take a beer,” Jake replies.
“Will you grab it for him?” I tip my head down and ask Reilly.
Her mouth falls open before she snaps. “Are you joking?”
“Please baby,” I reply.
She closes her eyes for a beat before she opens them and, with a nod, moves toward my kitchen.
“She ever tell you what it means when she closes her eyes like that?” Jakes asks as soon as she’s gone.
My brow furrows. “No.”
He laughs, moving to sit on my loveseat. “It’s her silent F you.”
I sit as well, my gaze moving toward my kitchen, mentally tabulating the number of times she’s given me a long blink. “Good to know.”
Jake shakes his head and leans forward, resting his hands on his knees. Good thing is he doesn’t look like he wants to throttle me anymore.
Reilly comes back with his beer, ignoring his hand and setting it on the table in front of him. She then moves to sit by me but annoys me by sitting with most of a cushion between us.
I lean toward her and pull her closer, until her thigh touches mine and I drape my arm around her shoulders. She blinks at me again, making me frown while Jake laughs.
My gaze shifts then narrows on him. “You wanted words.”
He opens his beer and takes a long pull before answering. “I needed to see for myself what your intentions were.”
“And?” I reply.
He looks at Reilly. “I believe you care about her.”
“I asked her to marry me.”
She stiffens next to me.
“Why won’t you marry him?” Jake asks Reilly.
Pushing away from me, she moves to the opposite end of the sofa and folds her arms over her chest. “He,” she spears me with a glare, “didn’t ask. He ordered.”
Jake frowns and starts to look like he might want to kick my ass again. “Say again?”
“Look, I can’t make vows of undying love or anything like that. I care about your sister though, and I care about this baby. In time, it’s possible that what we have could grow to more.”
“You think that’s going to inspire me to marry you?” she asks.
“It’s all I got to give, Reilly. I’m not going to lie to you.”
“Which is why I’m not marrying you,” she says.
I frown and look at Jake. He’s back to not looking like he wants to kick my ass, but he’s less sure of it now.
“Are you dating?” he asks Reilly.
“Something like that,” she replies.
My eyes move to hers. “Something like that? What else would you call it?”
She looks down and mumbles, “Seeing each other.”
“I told my mom you’re my girlfriend so when you meet her this weekend, don’t start any of this seeing each other shit.”
“You’re meeting his mom?” Jake asks with a grin.
Reilly cringes. “Yes.”
Unable to ignore her reaction, I ask, “Are you freaked about meeting my mom?”
“Of course I’m freaked,” she snaps.
I move closer to her and take her hand in mine. “My mom is excited to meet you. She’s thrilled about the baby.”
Her brows come together. “Thrilled? Why would she be thrilled her son is having a baby with someone she’s never even met.”
“Long story,” I mutter, remembering we have an audience.
“You want me to marry you, but I know nothing about you.”
She stands, shaking off my grasp. “I ask you questions and you brush me off.”
“Reilly, your brother is here. There are things I’ll share with you.”
Jake stands, and I stop speaking to look at him. “I’m going to take off. I’m sure Kacey is wondering where I am, since she would be home by now.”
He moves around the coffee table to Reilly and wraps his arms around her. Her arms circle his waist and she presses her cheek to his chest. Watching then together hurts more than it should.
“I love you, Reilly,”
“I love you too,” she replies.
He kisses the top of her head, lifts his chin in my direction, and then lets himself out.
As soon as the door closes behind him, Reilly sags back down onto the couch. “It’s been a long day.”
Standing, I pull her up with me. “Come on, let’s go for a drive.”
She grumbles something about wanting her pj’s and to binge-watch some show but lets me lead her to the door. She waits as I lock up behind us. Her annoyance is a physical thing. She walks stiffly to my SUV.
“I was engaged once before.”
That gets her attention. “Wait, what?”
I beep open the locks to my Toyota. She scrambles into the passenger seat and turns expectantly to me as I climb in.
When I don’t say anything, she presses, “You’re not still engaged are you?”
I frown at her. “No.”
“What happened?”
I back out of my drive and out onto my street. “She was pregnant.”
“If you have a kid and have waited until now to tell me, you need to pull over and let me out.”
“I do not have a kid,” I reply calmly.
She gasps, her eyes widening as she covers her mouth.
“It’s not whatever you’re thinking,” I say, reaching across the center console to rest my hand on her thigh.
She covers my hand with hers, which I take as a good sign.
“Where are we going?” she asks.
“You’ll see,” I reply.
She quietly huffs but doesn’t move her hand from mine.
When I make my turn, she laughs out loud. “You’re joking.”
“Nope.” I shift my SUV into park and climb out.
She meets me at the front of the hood, her cheeks pink.
“I come here a lot. It brings back fond memories.”
She smacks my arm. Before she moves away, I pull her close and kiss her hard. She leans into me, giving me her weight. I take it, holding her tightly.
She hasn’t agreed to marry me, but she can’t deny the connection between us. I crave her in a way I’ve never experienced before.
“Swings or picnic table?” I break our kiss to ask.
The blush to her cheeks deepens. “Picnic table.”
“I was hoping you’d say that.”
Taking her hand, we make our way to the spot where I first made her body mine. I sit first and settle her in my lap, her legs to one side.
“There were no kids because she was never pregnant.”
The normal twist in my gut at that admission is less painful. There’s a chance that sharing that with a woman who actually inspires trust took the sting from it.
“She pretended to be to get me to propose to her.”
Her jaw drops. “You believe me don’t you. I promise I’m not pretending. I’d never do that.”
My arms are loosely wrapped around her, I tighten them. “There was nothing fake about how you freaked the night you found out. I believe you, Reilly. Besides the fact that she did it so I’d marry her and you refuse to marry me.”
She frowns, then nods.
I can’t help it, I grin. Who knew talking about one of the worst experiences of my life would be so easy.
“I thought we were in love,” I continue. “It was shock when I found out.”
“How did you find out?” she asks.
Always a reporter.
“We stopped using protection after she told me she was pregnant. Her plan was to have as much sex as possible to then get pregnant. When that didn’t immediately work, she started searching for reasons why online and neglected to clear the browser history. I stumbled upon it, and when I called her out on it, she caved.”
“Don’t take this
the wrong way but what are the friggin odds I got pregnant and she didn’t? I mean, I was on birth control and you wore a condom every single time. I still don’t understand how this happened.”
“I’m not sure either but at this point, it isn’t changing the fact that you are. All I want to do now is help you understand where my head was at when I said I didn’t want kids in the first place.”
She tilts her head to the side. “It wasn’t the kids you were against, it was trusting someone that way, wasn’t it?”
Damn,, she’s not only the most beautiful woman I’ve even seen but she figured me out in no time. I nod. She looks down, pressing her forehead against my neck.
Neither of us speaks. A group of kids play basketball on the blacktop. The ring of each bounce of the ball and their shouts to pass or shoot keeps the playground from falling silent.
“I was pissed but my mom was devastated. She doesn’t do things halfway, and she was all in to be a grandmother.”
“That’s so sad,” Reilly murmurs.
“I should warn you, my mom is a unique woman.”
Reilly lifts her head. “I’d like to hear more about her.”
Over the years, I’ve learned how to describe my mom without making her sound crazy.
“She runs a holistic center.”
Her face brightens. “That’s cool. I did a segment on one not far from here. It was amazing.”
“You’ll get a chance to see her place this weekend. She lives on the property and manages it year round.”
“And your dad?” She asks.
I was expecting this question at some point. “My father and I do not have a relationship.”
She presses her hand to my chest. “What happened?”
When I don’t immediately answer, she shakes her head and says, “I’m being nosy. You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”
Sliding my hand up her back, I push my fingers through her silken strands. “My father left us, divorced my mom, and started over with another woman. He made no attempt to remain in our lives. He’s reached out a few times after I turned eighteen, but he’ll never be able to undo what he did.”
“I’m so sorry,” she whispers.
Gulping, I drag my fingertips from her nape across her neck to cup her jaw. “Your skin is like satin.”
Her face softens as she tips her face to meet my eyes. She doesn’t question my change of subject. In the past ten minutes, I’ve shared more with her than I have with anyone else in months.
“Thank you,” she breathes.
I lower my lips to her still soft mouth. “Even when what we had was just physical, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I wanted you but it was more than that. I wanted to be with you.”
She presses her cheek to mine. “My skin stresses me out.”
Wasn’t expecting that. Is this one of those times where someone says something negative about themselves to fish for a compliment? It’s odd since I already complimented her skin.
Going for what I consider to be a safe question, I ask, “Why?”
“This is embarrassing,” she laughs, ducking her head. Then before I say anything, she pulls in a breath and goes on. “I have skin issues, mainly around my time of the month. It’ll be interesting to see how my skin will react now. It’s awful being almost thirty and still dealing with breakouts. I probably wouldn’t care as much if my face wasn’t part of my job.”
I press my lips to hers. I shared something; a part of my life and without pulling it from her, she did the same. What she shared was something she’s clearly self-conscious about.
“If it means anything, you’ve never looked anything but beautiful to me. With makeup or without, there has never been another woman who has captivated me like you.”
She blinks, not the long one her brother warned me about, but a succession of rapid blinks in attempt to dispel the wetness from her eyes. I cuddle her close to me, my arms around her back. Her body softens further against mine.
“That is the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me,” she sighs.
The crunch of footsteps on mulch draws my eyes toward the swing set. There’s a small family approaching them. Two children, an older girl and what must be her younger brother, break off from the group to race to the swings.
The little girl in the lead slows her steps as she nears to allow her brother to overtake her in the end.
“You won!” she shouts, her hands in the air as she celebrates his victory.
The chubbiness of his baby fat still clings to his cheeks. He basks in the glory of his win and dances as he turns to sit in the swing he claimed.
Mom and Dad clap as they reach the swings. Dad moves behind the big sister, pausing to kiss the top of her head before giving her a gentle push to get her going.
She looks back at him, making her swing go off course but the look on her face shows no worry. No, her look asks ‘Did I do good daddy?’
He answers her look with a nod, and she turns back to face forward, her legs coming out to pump and send her higher. Mom moves behind her baby boy. She shouts an encouragement to her daughter before checking to see that her son has a tight grasp on the rubber-coated chains of the swing.
He falls back before pulling himself upright, demonstrating his hold. She gives him a push and he kicks his legs out trying to mimic the pumping of his sister’s legs.
“Those are the Smith’s,” Reilly murmurs. “I went to school with Karen. I can’t believe how big her kids are getting.”
“They’re cute kids,” I reply.
“Her oldest goes to school here.”
For some reason this statement causes her to straighten and focus her gaze on mine. “I want our baby to grew up here.”
I nod, my brows coming together.
“Promise me,” she pleads, so earnest.
I nod again and stroke her back. “Okay, I promise.”
My words relax her, and she settles back against me. The woman who I now know is Karen spots us and, after saying something to her husband, walks over to us.
Reilly stands once she’s near.
“Hey Reilly. I thought that was you,” Karen says by way of greeting.
Reilly opens her arms and they hug.
As soon as their hug breaks she motions to me. “Karen, this is my boyfriend Trip.”
“Oh, I know who you are,” Karen jokes offering me her hand.
“Karen’s mom works in dispatch,” Reilly explains.
We’re a small police station and there’s only one female dispatcher, so I make a guess, “Lori?”
Karen nods. “That’s my mom.”
Everyone not only knows everyone in a small town, they’re also sometimes related. “You’re mom is great.”
A shout from the swings grabs Karen’s attention briefly. She waves and gives thumbs up before looking back at me.
“My little monsters are pretty silly.”
“I can’t believe how big they’ve gotten,” Reilly gushes, slipping her hand into mine.
“I feel like I blinked and it happened.”
“They are adorable,” Reilly replies.
Karen glances back at them, her eyes staying trained on her family as she says, “They’re a handful that’s for sure, but I wouldn’t change one thing about either of them.”
Turning in front of the mirror, I frown at my reflection.
Trip leans against the doorframe. “Stop worrying.”
My brain promptly ignores his demand. I’m meeting his mother today. His mother!
I want to make a good impression on her.
“Does this look okay?” I pluck at the hem of my tunic.
“It does, and so did the last four outfits you had on.”
I cringe. “Did one of those other ones look better? And, should I pull my hair up? I can do a cute half-up thing.”
He reaches for my hand and leads me from the bathroom. “Don’t change a thing. Weekend traffic can be spotty going up that way, so we need to hit the
road.”
I wring my hands. “It’ll be all my fault if we’re late.”
His dimples appear when he grins. “You’re cute when you’re freaking out.”
I stomp my suede-bootie-covered foot. “I am not.”
He looks away, his expression not changing.
When I go to grab my purse, I pause when I see a sleeve of crackers poking out from the top. Some of my nervousness dissolves away at his sweet gesture.
The crackers, and his asking to come with me to my doctor appointments, mean more to me than he’ll ever know. Even though I haven’t agreed to marry him, he is making it clear by his actions that he plans to be in my life.
He drives, pointing out places of interest along the way. Before he moved back to Ferncliff and became a detective, he was a police officer up here.
Considering the sparse population and wide undeveloped stretches of land, forest, and canyon here, he was part park ranger. His actions helped save our friend Sydney from a mudslide.
She was still hurt badly and Heath Mackey has been taking care of her. They’re practically inseparable now. It’s been a relief that he’s had her to lean on since his mom passed away.
“Do you miss it?” I ask, the landscape blurring beside me through the passenger window.
“I spend more time behind a desk now than I like. Good thing I’ve been finding other ways to stay active,” he jokes.
I can’t help but smile. Yes, active is one way to put it. Insatiable is another. It’s safe to say this pregnancy hasn’t dulled his attention to me. No, he’s still extremely devoted to getting us both off on the regular.
I haven’t had this much sex, ever. My past boyfriends have nothing on Trip. He can’t get enough of me, and I seem to share that trait when it comes to him.
Even now, riding in a car, I’m aware of my attraction to him above all else. Though I’m still nervous about meeting his mom.
He looks better than any man should in his jeans. It’s the thrill I can’t ignore that I’m intimately aware of how he looks out of them too. He likes to rest his hand on my thigh while he drives.
It’s as if he’s unable to ignore my pull either and can’t stand not touching me in some way.
We weave down single lane roads, farther and farther away from any signs of civilization.
“Wow, how far is her place from the nearest town?” I ask.
Why Not? (Love Riddles Book 3) Page 10
