Fight From The Heart: a small town romance (Heart Collection Book 4)

by L. B. Dunbar

  “What can I bring?” I ask Ella, knowing I’ll need to stop at the Bear’s Den for anything she suggests.

  “Just you. Ethan has the rest covered.” My lucky sister has a live-in chef and future restaurant owner as her lover-roommate.

  When I arrive at their house, I find I’m not the only guest.

  “Lilac.” Her name is a breath of fresh air like the scent of her skin. In return, she glares at me like I’m the boogeyman, haunting her.

  “Jacob.” Her voice is as sharp, but I step up to her terse address. Kissing her cheek, I want to give her so much more but restrain myself. Ella’s attention swivels from me to Pam, staring at us, but I ignore my sister’s questioning gaze.

  “Hey, guys,” Ethan greets me as he enters their entryway. The tension is so thick. He looks at Pam, then me, and back at Pam. He steps up and kisses her cheek as I did, and I’d want to punch him if I didn’t know he loved my sister. “Come on in.”

  Ethan leads us farther into their cozy cottage house, which appears tight compared to the sprawl of my own home. Ella beams as she looks up at Ethan, her arms wrapped around him as he gives us the quick tour. Our final stop is in their kitchen where he’s preparing a meal, and Ella pours us all wine.

  “To challenges,” Ethan cheers, and my eyes leap to Pam, who ignores me. What Pam and I did the other night was a risk, and I haven’t been so certain it was worth it. I mean, it was amazing, but I can’t handle her silence. We should talk, but I hate explaining myself. What would I even say to her? I don’t have any fucking idea. I can’t tell her how I feel even though plenty bled from my lips the other night. I told her she was beautiful. I told her how amazing she felt around me. I told her how I’d been waiting for such a long time to enter her. I couldn’t help myself. The reality was so much more than the fantasy. I’m rock-hard, just recalling the night, but it’s evident we need to talk, and I hate these kinds of discussions.

  I don’t want to complicate things. It was just sex.

  But as I look over at Pam, ignoring me and listening to Ethan talk about something, I realize it isn’t so simple as just sex.

  This is Pam. My Lilac. My angel.

  After a few sips of wine and casual talk about dinner, Ethan says it’s ready for our tasting, and he leads us to their small dining room. Ella sits at a right angle to Ethan, which places Pam across from her. As I sit next to Pam, the energy coming off her suggests she’ll stab me with a butter knife.

  We dig into Ethan’s dinner, a specialty item he’s hoping to have on the menu of his soon-to-open restaurant. Traditional pot roast with new seasonings, plus petite potatoes boiled to perfection and cooked carrots, which I normally don’t like, but he’s found the ideal consistency for them—still firm while hot. Dinner continues with a conversation about Ethan’s restaurant and Ella’s company, Fabulously Flawed. Her business is a clothing line she designed. Pam and I listen intently and ask appropriate questions but don’t speak directly to one another.

  I hate the tension.

  This isn’t like Mandi, who can hold a grudge and then turn on me to wind me up. This is Pam, who I fear could keep silent forever, and I have only myself to blame.

  As dinner ends, Pam volunteers to do the dishes with Ella while Ethan and I take a seat in their living room with nothing more than a saggy couch and a leather recliner.

  “What’s the deal with you two?” Ethan says, leaning forward and directing his gaze toward the kitchen. Admittedly, I don’t have many friends, and I shortchanged Ethan after he slept with my sister. Over time, he’s grown on me, and I consider him a friend.

  “Who knows?” I state, blowing off the question while feeling guilty. I know exactly what’s wrong. Pam thinks I tried to pay her for services the other evening. I’ve never done such a thing, nor will I ever, and I definitely was not paying Pam to have sex with me.

  “You know there was a time I thought you might be using Pam for sexual favors.”

  “What?” I choke.

  “Thought once I’d met you, I’d have to hurt you if you were using her like that.”

  “I’d never do any such thing,” I stammer, still fighting the suffocating lump in my throat.

  “So if you weren’t paying her for sexual affairs, when did you start giving them to her?”

  I cough even harder now, no longer able to control whatever is choking me. “What?”

  “I know a woman scorned when I see one, and you did something to her. She can hardly look at you. Was it Mandi? Did she catch you two in the act? Are you two back together?” Ethan shivers.

  “Why would Pam care about Mandi and me?” It’s half dismissive, half inquiry. Pam never discusses Mandi with me. Then I consider the other night, outside the pharmacy, and Pam’s hint of jealousy. Has it bothered her that I’ve had Mandi in my life?

  “Because Pam’s had the hots for you for years, but this Mandi thing pushes her over the limits.”

  “Pam does not have the hots for me.”

  “She’s so hot for you it’s like eating a jalapeno pepper with tabasco sauce on it.”

  “That is not true.”

  “It’s like a poker primed for branding, all red-orange and fiery, ready to sear and sizzle and burn.” Ethan gives me a cheeky grin.

  “You’re making that up.”

  “She’s so hot, it’s—”

  “Who’s hot?” Pam interrupts, entering the room and suddenly filling all the air with her scent.

  “You’re hot,” Ethan says.

  “What the fuck, man?” I snap.

  “He’s only teasing,” Pam says, waving a dismissive hand at Ethan. “Wishful thinking.”

  “What does he wish?” I question, looking back and forth between the two of them as Ella enters the room.

  “Ethan likes to pretend he has a crush on me because I always turn him down.”

  “An arrow through the heart every time.” Ethan presses one hand to his chest over his heart while simultaneously reaching for Ella. He tugs her onto his lap and looks up at her. “Until now.” It’s strange to watch a man kiss my sister, right on her cheek, over her scars. He doesn’t see them like I do, as a reminder of a time I let her down. If I were emotional, I’d say I love this guy for the way he loves my sister, but I have no emotions.

  “Anyway, thanks for dinner, E, but I’ve got to get going. Work in the morning, and I had a late night last night,” Pam states.

  “Oh, up all night misbehaving,” Ethan teases her.

  “Yeah, now that would be wishful thinking,” she mutters.

  What the hell?

  “What do you need to do at the garden center this time of year anyway? It’s like a second winter out there.” Ethan teases her, and I’m wondering the same thing. She should be in my home, day and night, helping me—with writing, sexual favors, and spending time with me.

  My chest tightens with the knowledge of how empty my house feels since she’s left.

  “Orders. And arrangements for a certain someone’s grand opening,” she teases Ethan. His place doesn’t open until April, which is a little less than a month away.

  “Are you guys still going to New York next week?” Ella has worked with a photographer friend to pair her new clothing line with images. She has another show in the city, and I promised I’d attend this one since I missed the last one at the end of January.

  “Yeah, we’re going.” Ethan tugs at Ella’s hip, peering up at her again, and my sister cups his face, leaning down for another kiss. It’s all sticky sweet and too much sugar for me, especially with the tension between Pam and myself.

  “Okay, then.” Pam claps her hands. “E. Ella. Thanks for dinner. Delicious as always, Ethan. Your place will be a hit.”

  “You should come to New York, too,” Ella blurts out, and the room goes silent. Pam’s eyes shift to me but leap back to my sister.

  “Uhm, that’s sweet of you, but I don’t think I can get the time off. When do you leave?”

  “Next Wednesday evening,” Ella
replies. The plan is a long weekend in New York. I have a meeting with my agent on Thursday with Ella’s showing on Friday night. I was even able to hook up an impromptu fight at the gym on Saturday evening.

  Ella glances at me, her brows pinching before she gazes back at Pam. “Well, maybe next time then? We can turn it into a girls’ thing.”

  “A girls-plus-Ethan thing,” Ethan teases, squeezing at Ella again. After Ella slipped away from him the first time, I imagine he doesn’t want to let her out of his sight.

  I know the feeling, man.

  I glance at Pam with her head down, suddenly feeling uncertain about this New York visit for some reason.

  “I better be going as well. I’m on deadline.” I stand and step toward the front door, taking my coat off a hook near it and reaching for Pam’s. I hold it open for her as if we planned to leave together. Her brows pinch, but she gives me her back and slips her arms into the coat. I catch another whiff of her as she stands so close to me. I ache for her.

  We say our goodbyes with hugs and handshakes, and then Pam and I leave. More painful silence follows us out the door once Ethan and Ella close it behind us. Pam walks ahead of me, as her car is in the street and mine is parked in front of hers. As she walks, I lean forward and scoop up a handful of snow remaining from the storm. With perfect aim, I nail her luscious ass, smashing the snowball and forcing her to finally turn and look at me.

  Chapter 14

  Snow Deals

  [Pam]

  “Hey!” I turn and yell at Jacob as a snowball hits me square in the backside. After another one hits my midsection, I lower for my own ammunition. Whipping off a ball of snow, it goes nowhere near Jacob. I lower to scoop up another ball when I’m tackled to the ground before I can fire it off.

  “What’s your deal?” I holler at him as he’s pressing me into the wet snow.

  “What’s yours?” he counters, looking into my eyes until I have to look away.

  “What are you doing, Jacob?” My gaze falls on the house where the front porch light remains on, but the rest of Ethan and Ella’s place has gone dark.

  “I hurt your feelings.” The truth in his words returns my attention to his face. “I’m sorry.”

  Do I thank him for the apology? What about the rest of the night?

  “You’re mad at me,” he adds. “I don’t like it.”

  “I’m not mad,” I state, huffing out a breath that hits him in the face. His eyes remain fixed to mine, and my steely resolve is melting under his gaze. I’m not strong enough to resist him, and that’s been my problem lately. I’ve given in to temptation too easily.

  “For more than two years, I’ve resisted you,” I whisper, staring up at him with the dark sky behind his head and the cold snow against my jeans. “Why now? Why is this happening now?”

  I don’t even know if I’m asking him directly or just wondering out loud.

  “Resisted?” Jacob questions. “What do you mean, resisted?”

  I roll my head to the side, but Jacob grips my chin with his glove-covered hands, forcing me to look at him. Do I tell him how attracted I’ve been to him? Do I tell him how I feel? It all seems like too much.

  “You’re always teasing me, and I’ve just fought the . . .” Attraction.

  “Fought what?” His voice grows rougher, his grip tighter, but his eyes say he’s desperate for the truth.

  “The pull, okay? I’ve fought the pull I feel to you. I’ve done everything in my power to keep us professional, but the other night . . . I don’t know what happened.” Frustration comes out with my words. Was it the atmosphere? The candles, wine, and dinner? Was it the hand holding and falling asleep? Or was it just that my resolve had finally broken? I couldn’t fight how strongly I wanted to be with him, even if for one night.

  “You’re drawn to me?” His midnight eyes soften, moving back and forth across my face. He can’t seriously not see it, not feel it. I’ve always felt as if it’s written on my face, and he knows it, thus torturing me with tempting taunts and innocent flirtation.

  “Yes, okay. Yes, I’m . . . drawn to you.” My arms attempt to flare out but don’t go far with the bulk of my winter jacket and the press of his body over me.

  “Are you going out with that other guy?”

  “Not this again.” I sigh, tugging free of his grip. Spencer actually did call me, but he has a wedding to attend this coming weekend, and we both agreed a first date at a wedding seemed like a predilection to disaster. He was sweet as he teased that he’d be all emotional and want to marry me on the first date, and that might be a big turn-off. He has no idea how it might be a turn-on if someone so easily wanted to marry me, but a wedding does ramp up the emotions. I’ve attended more weddings than I care to count. Not to mention, there’s the whole awkward history with Spencer being one of Brendan’s friends, which leaves me wondering why Spencer would even want to go out with me in the first place.

  Perhaps he’s lonely like I am.

  “Well?” Jacob growls.

  “It’s none of your business.” If I told him the truth, would he be jealous? Or would a competitive spirit cause him to react?

  “Come to New York with me.”

  “What?” My forehead furrows as I gaze up at his dark eyes. He can’t be serious.

  “Come to New York. My agent’s been wanting to meet the woman who keeps me in line. You can see Ella’s show and explore the city.”

  “Jacob, be serious.” This isn’t funny, and I’m getting irritated. The invitation is under duress or something ridiculously similar, and I don’t need some pity invite.

  “I am serious. I’ll pay for everything.”

  My body slumps under his. “Throwing money at me?”

  “Come on, Lilac. It wasn’t like that.” He stares down at me, sincerity in those eyes. I wait for further explanation as he didn’t give me one the other morning. His gaze traces the edges of my face, like his finger did, drawing a line along my hair and tucking it behind my ear. It was such a sweet gesture as he peered down at me, similar to how he’s looking at me now. He was over me just as he is presently, buried inside me, making me feel one with him, and separate from him at the same time. I didn’t know how to handle the mixed signals.

  “I wasn’t trying to insult you the other morning, and I’m sorry you took it that way. I just . . .” He huffs. “You work hard. For me. In general. I didn’t want you to think I took advantage of you. And I did take advantage.”

  My mouth falls open.

  “I mean, I demanded you come to me in a snowstorm, and it wasn’t sensitive.” He pauses, eyes still searching my face. “But I’m not sorry you stayed. And I’m not sorry for what we did. I don’t know how to define it. Maybe it’s the pull you’re talking about.”

  I try to look away, embarrassed that I want a definition. Does he feel drawn to me? He isn’t saying that. It was only sex to him.

  “Lilac, come to New York with me.” For some reason, the moment feels too intense. His apology. His struggle. I accept it was only sex to him, and I’m the one with the foolish heart attached to him.

  “You’re still an ass.” I cup snow into my mitten-covered hand and press it into his face. Too quickly, Jacob has my wrist next to my head. His cheeks drip with snow as he menacingly glares down at me.

  “I see the master has made a monster of you. You’ll pay for that.” He lowers his face, pressing his cheeks against mine and rubbing his cold jaw along mine. I squirm and squeal while kicking my legs in an attempt to get him off me. We’re making quite a scene in Ethan and Ella’s front yard, but Jacob does not relent. Once he’s smothered my face in retaliation, he pauses just over my lips.

  “Come to New York.” His mouth crushes mine before I can respond, literally stealing both my breath and my answer as his warm tongue delves past my lips. His kiss is frustration. As his body shifts, a knee wedges between my thighs. My legs are cold, snow seeping through the denim, but the heat of him blankets me, warming my insides. I fight the attractio
n again.

  “Jacob,” I mutter against his lips, attempting to pull back.

  “New York,” he mumbles, returning to my lips, dipping past the seam again. His tongue dances with mine.

  I try to say his name again, but he refuses to let me speak. His lips cover mine, refusing to let me deny him.

  “I’ll call Mae for you. I’ll tell her how badly I need you with me.”

  “How badly?” The heat of his mouth wants to answer for him, but I’m not allowing it. I fight the warmth and break another kiss. I need his words.

  “Lilac,” he begs with my name.

  “I’ll think about it.”

  He huffs out in frustration. “I don’t like to play these games.”

  “I’m not Mandi.”

  His eyes skim my face. “Don’t I know it.”

  I push at his sides, willing him off me, but he flattens himself against me, pinning me in place. “That’s not what I mean. Shit, angel. You’re so much more than her, just . . . I don’t know what you want from me.”

  I want it to mean more than sex. I want his body and heart like he’s taken mine. I don’t want to fight him, my attraction, or even my anger at the moment. I don’t want him to compare me to her. I just want him to see me.

  “Look, do you want me to tell you I felt something between us? I did. I don’t know what it was, but it was amazing. I want it again. I want you.” He pauses, staring down at me. “Come to New York.”

  The cold night air no longer effects either of us as the heat of his eyes melts me. I hate how I’m giving in to him. Why can’t I be more resistant? Why do I feel this pull toward him?

  “Will you do something for me first?”

  “Anything.” He exhales.

  “Meet my siblings.” Jacob has no friends, no family outside of Ella, and I don’t want to keep him a secret anymore. Let my family meet the man I’ve been lusting over for years, and then tell me how foolish I’ve been to fall in love with him.