The Best Friend Zone: A Small Town Romance

by Nicole Snow

  Grasping my hips, he pins me against the mattress, folding my legs tight to his wall of a body as he thrusts with perfect pressure.

  Divine friction and that white-hot look in his eyes make quick work of my resistance.

  “Quinn...come with me,” I whimper, digging my teeth into my bottom lip, taking him as hard as I can.

  I’m almost to the point of no return.

  I want it to last longer, forever, but I want him to fill me with his molten fiery essence even more.

  “Quinn!” I whimper, thrashing my head, damn near clawing him. “I-I can’t hold—”

  I can’t anything.

  My vision blurs as the ecstasy wave hits, radiating out from where we’re joined, hot convulsions sending me crashing against him again and again.

  It’s as close as I ever want to get to death by orgasm.

  Oh, but Quinn isn’t finished.

  The second I hear his rough groan, his thrusts quickening, every inch of him swelling, pulsing, bursting deep inside me, I’m dead.

  Dick-matized.

  Gone.

  I just wish we could ride this wave, this rush, this love forever as my eyes pinch shut.

  Together, we let out ragged cries of pleasure, riding a high we both know we’ll never, ever find with another living soul.

  The bed is empty when I wake up.

  I roll over, wincing at my extra angry aches and pains after the past twenty-four hours, and glance at the clock beside the bed. Eight p.m.

  Wow, I slept hard. And who could blame me?

  Stretching my arms over my head, I sit up with a yawn.

  Tossing aside the covers, I scoot to the edge of the bed. Rummaging around in the closet, I find new underwear, shimmy them on, and then grab a shirt.

  It’s Quinn’s, but for now it’ll do. I slip it on and leave the room, loving how his scent lingers.

  I pause halfway down the stairs, just to stare a moment at a scene from something I’d forgotten.

  Normalcy.

  He’s sitting on the couch, wearing a pair of sweatpants that look dangerously good on him, watching TV with his feet propped up on the coffee table.

  “Hey, sleepyhead,” he says without turning around.

  Smiling, I continue into the living room, and stop in front of him. “How did you know I was there? The stairs don’t even squeak.”

  He pulls me onto his lap and kisses me. “ESP. I meant to come clean about it sooner, but now that I know we’re serious...”

  For a second, I blink, confused at how serious he looks.

  “Really?”

  His grin spreads like a sunrise, as cocky as it is playful. “Nah, you pretty little sucker. I just saw your reflection in the TV screen.”

  “Idiot! Don’t you dare think I’m that gullible.” I playfully slap my hands on his bare chest, then run my hands across his pecs, loving the feel of his skin.

  He kisses me again. “You hungry?”

  “Again? Are you?”

  “Yeah. Thought I might starve to death before you woke up. Figured we’d eat leftovers together, though.”

  I kiss him and climb off his lap. “You didn’t have to wait up for me.”

  “I know.” He stands up and gives my butt a teasing slap. “I wanted to.”

  Just when I think I’m out of new reasons to love him, the way he—whoa.

  What?

  Am I totally sure this is love? The kind that lasts for life? The feeling that hits in a balmy, spinning glow when you’re face-to-face with The One?

  I stare at him as he warms up our food, trying not to gawk like a total weirdo.

  Oddly, for some reason, the big L-word scares me as much as being kidnapped, just in a different way. A very different way.

  If I love Quinn Faulkner...fully, wildly, irreversibly, then that means making a life together.

  It means giving up Chicago, the dumb director job that was already gone, and maybe even dancing.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” I lie. “I was just thinking about what I want to eat. Lo mein or fried rice?”

  He laughs, flashing that world-shredding smile.

  “No rule saying you can’t have both. I think we’ve burned off a week’s worth of carbs lately. There’s still plenty of everything.”

  I nod and take a chair at the little table in the kitchen.

  “You’re right. Both sound pretty good, actually.”

  I wish I weren’t just talking about the food.

  The both I’d really love to have involves keeping Quinn and my dance career.

  The Chinese food is just as exquisite the second time around, but I’m not able to eat much.

  My mind puts a real damper on my appetite.

  I want Quinn.

  I want what I have here.

  Maybe I even want to stay here in Dallas and live where we’ve always been the happiest.

  But then, what will I do with my life? I’d be lucky to nab a few clients as a personal trainer or something in this little town.

  My mind continues tossing around questions, not finding any answers, for the next two days.

  Until the moment when I open the front door and see my mother standing on the porch.

  24

  We’ve Goat Company (Faulkner)

  The sleek rental car in the driveway is no surprise when I get home.

  Granny Coffey called this morning, warning me her pain-in-the-ass daughter-in-law was arriving today to convince my peach to go home with her.

  I’d tossed around calling Tory, warning her, but ultimately hadn’t. I’ve committed to not interfering in a meeting this important.

  I’ve had plenty to chase after the past couple days.

  The criminal machine Ted Goode ran goes deeper than I’d expected, multi-layered, and Section Chief Powers has asked me to return to the FBI as a part-time consultant to help with the big investigation that has tendrils branching out in several other cold cases.

  I said no.

  He told me to think about it for a few days.

  To his credit, he’d pointed out that Justin’s death wasn’t my fault. I’d already accepted that years ago, as much as anyone could.

  As for Tory’s kidnapping, there are no excuses, and that’s the problem. I can’t let my work hurt her again. Ever.

  Having Bat Pickett locked up where he belongs again helps, but it’s not the final word.

  If I knew she’d be happy as a lark here in Dallas, forever, then I’d tell Powers there’s no question.

  No need for me to think about anything.

  I’m not positive that’s the case. And if she’s not interested in staying, then neither am I.

  This little town has too many memories tangled up in that woman to live a life here without her.

  Nah, I’m not gonna try and influence her decision. I’m committed to her having the final say because I respect her that much.

  Folks have been marching her around her entire life.

  This time, the choice is hers, and hers alone.

  Whatever she decides, I’ll man up and accept it—even if it means her future can’t include me.

  I shut off the truck, shake off the heebie-jeebies the thought of meeting Gloria Redson-Riddle-Coffey gives me, and open the driver’s door. My feet feel like solid stone as I drag myself to the house and up the porch.

  Tory and her ma are in the kitchen, and as soon as I open the door, the tension smacks me clean across the face.

  Gloria, a tall woman who still looks like a fashion model in middle age, whips her eyes toward me, a barely concealed scowl on her face aimed like a sword.

  For once, I hate the fact that my instincts were right.

  My heart goes out to Tory. I try to squelch the anger that fills me at the way her mother glares.

  Not even a hello.

  Awesome.

  Sure, I’ve never met her, so I shouldn’t judge, but...fuck it, I’m judging.

  Gloria reveals plenty the instant I walk o
ver to Tory, lay a hand on her shoulder, and feel how she’s wound tighter than a spring.

  “Hey, darlin’. You ladies having fun?” I ask, flashing a wink in Gloria’s direction I hope she finds annoying.

  “We’re fine! How was your meeting with Powers?” She reaches up, lacing her fingers in mine, and squeezes like a hostage trying to communicate their predicament.

  “Fine. He’s on his way back to D.C. now.”

  “So that mess is settled then?” Gloria snaps. “I read all about it. You’d think this ridiculous town would get a break after everything that happened with the oil company, and then the movie star...frankly, it’s the reason I’m here. To talk some sense into my daughter, and ensure she leaves this miserable hole in the dirt that’s never been anything but a magnet for trouble.”

  Her sharp-eyed look tells me I’m the real trouble she’s worried about, far more than Dallas.

  “Mother!” Tory hisses, slapping a hand on the table. “None of it was Quinn’s fault. I told you that, and so did the papers.” Looking at me, she hisses a sigh. “Quinn, this is my mother, Gloria Redson-Riddle-Coffey.”

  I nod, and attempting to hide my aversion, plaster on my best Prince Charming smile.

  “Nice to meet you, ma’am. I’ve heard a lot.”

  All bad things, of course.

  Gloria huffs out a thick breath and turns away, lifting her nose in the air. Apparently, she’s too good to even feign politeness.

  My jaw tightens, but for Tory’s sake, I ignore her mother’s rebuff.

  Reminding myself that I can’t butt in—that whatever she decides is her choice—I clear my throat. “Didn’t mean to interrupt anything. You ladies must have an awful lot to talk about. I’ll leave you be.”

  Gloria’s eyes snap back to me, softening ever-so-slightly like I just graduated from pond scum to ordinary mud.

  Giving Tory’s arm a gentle squeeze, I add, “I’ll be in the barn if you need anything. Just holler.”

  “We won’t be long,” she whispers, patting my hand.

  There’s nothing pressing in the barn, but if I stay here, I’ll say far more than I should. Whatever fireworks they’re bound to have don’t need me igniting the fuse. It ain’t fair to Tory.

  Owl shoots out the back door as soon as I open it.

  Apparently, he’s also had more than he can stand of Tory’s mother. He walks beside me down to the barn.

  The goats are back at the dairy farm to finish the big job and should stay there for a few more days. The Neumans fixed the fence they’d torn down during their great escape to help rescue Tory, with Owl playing field marshal, and thankfully weren’t too upset since it was falling apart anyway.

  “You know how to work a shovel?” I ask the dog, trying to think of something to keep me busy for an hour or two. There are several blue landscaping stones stacked up near the side of the barn I’d planned on using to make a walking path down to the creek.

  Now’s as good a time as any to lay them down and keep my mind off what’s happening in the house.

  He barks once.

  “All right, fair enough. You worked your tail off this week.” Grinning, I rub his head. “Guess I get to do all the digging.”

  The stones are all laid and I’m tamping down the dirt around the last one when Tory appears, her hands tucked together shyly in front of her.

  “These look nice,” she says, stepping from stone to stone.

  “Thanks.” I lean against the shovel handle, nodding at Owl who’s sleeping under a tree. “My helper’s on a break.”

  “Well, you look like you could use this.” She hands me a bottle of cold water.

  “Thanks.” I take it and glug down half before asking, “Is your ma still here?”

  “Nope. She went straight back to her hotel room as soon as we were done.”

  “Any idea when she’s going home?” I bite my tongue, but it’s an afterthought. The question’s already out.

  Tory snickers. “She has a flight tomorrow. Bright and early in the morning.”

  Shit, I can’t take this.

  “You going with her?” I ask, holding in a deep breath.

  For a second, she stares directly at me with a serious, solemn look on her face. “Can you give me a good reason why I shouldn’t?”

  Yeah. I love her like an anvil dropped on my heart, but that’s why I don’t want her to go.

  My reason, not hers.

  “It’s your decision, Peach. Wouldn’t be right for me to twist your arm one way or another.”

  She closes her eyes and smiles, shaking her head.

  “I knew you’d say that.”

  I don’t understand. It’s the only thing I can say. This has to be her choice, and entirely hers, with no ifs, ands, or buts.

  Her eyelids flutter open as a more serene smile forms on her lips. “Tell me this—do you want me to leave Dallas?”

  “Darlin’, you already know what I want, and it doesn’t matter. If I launch into theatrics about what you mean to me, how you’re stuck in my head with every loving breath...well, that shit wouldn’t be fair. This is your choice. Your future. Your happiness. What I think about it doesn’t count,” I tell her, fully aware I just slipped up and dumped my guts.

  Dammit.

  “Wrong,” she whips out. “What you want does count. I don’t want to stay if you don’t want me here.”

  Curling my lip, I shove the blade of the shovel into the ground and step toward her. “Enough with these games. I’ll always want you here, woman, but the question is, do you want to be here? Do you want to be with me? Any way we cut it, you can’t chase your dreams to the stars being tied down with anyone—especially me.”

  “Yes,” she whispers, batting her eyes. “I know and I...I want you, Quinn. Having a life without you in it feels like no life at all.”

  I realize she’s blinking back something heavy and wet a second later.

  “What about your dancing?” I ask softly, stopping in front of her, gingerly laying my hands on her shoulders. “You’ve worked your whole life for it.”

  Nodding, she says, “Sure, but I’ve been thinking and...well, I think that part of my life might be over. It’s not just you. I’m sick of the stress, sick of Chicago, sick of back-stabby people like Jean-Paul and Madeline. Sick of the endless drama it causes with Mother, too. What would a normal relationship with her be like? All this time, I’ve been living her dream. Not mine.”

  “Tory—” I try to cut in, but she ain’t having it.

  “Listen. I’ve made up my mind and I’m ready for something different. And part of that’s figuring out I’ve felt more alive here than anywhere else, and I’d like to stay longer. See if that feeling lasts, if this is really what I want. The rest will come. We don’t have to stay in Dallas forever, but for now? I can’t imagine anywhere I’d rather be. And you’re the only man I want to be anywhere with, Quinn Faulkner.”

  Shit, shit.

  It’s hard pretending my throat’s not getting tight, so I squeeze her shoulders, playing a total fool.

  “How long?” I ask her. “How long you want to stay here giving small-town life a spin?”

  She laughs, wiping away an escaping tear, then lays a hand on my chest.

  “Um, until you kick me out?”

  It’s my turn to chuckle, and grasping her hips, I lean down and take her lips like there’s no tomorrow. Then peel back to stare into those blue eyes I want to drown in forever.

  “Got some bad news for you, Peach.” I pause. “That’s never gonna happen. You stay, you’re stuck with me.”

  She beams like the sun. “In that case, I have one more question...”

  Her eyes are gleaming now, more than a little mischievous.

  “What’s that?” I ask.

  “Would you consider going on a road trip?”

  I cock my head. “Road trip? Sure. Uh, where?”

  Her arms loop around my neck and she presses against me, teasing me to a new high.

  “C
hicago, so I can pick up my things and bring them back here. Don’t worry, I already told Mother I’m moving out, so she’ll be expecting company.”

  “Tory, I’d follow you to the devil’s doorstep. No question. As long as you’re certain.” I catch her under the chin with one knuckle, gingerly gliding it across her cheek. “You are sure, right? About staying here? About giving up that director job?”

  “Totally. I’d miss you a hundred times more than I’ll ever miss dancing.” She kisses my chin. “Besides, I can still dance in the barn whenever I want.” Stretching on her toes, she whispers next to my ear, “Buck naked.”

  Oh, hell, now she’s speaking my language.

  My worries are replaced by wild visions of everything I’m aching to do to her tonight.

  We make the trip to Chicago the following weekend.

  Turns out, a road trip with Tory is like everything else with her.

  Fun-filled days, lots of easy banter, and nights so passionate they leave scorch marks on the sheets.

  Once we’re pulling into the Windy City, though, I can sense her jitters compounding with every mile.

  After a long stretch where I have to adapt to rude, overly aggressive hornet human beings behind the wheel, we pull the truck up to an immaculate home in a fancy-looking neighborhood.

  “Nice place,” I say, breaking the silence that’s dominated the last few blocks.

  She nods, then gives me a look with her brows knit tight.

  “This seemed like a better idea when we were still in North Dakota.”

  “We’re just here to get in, get your stuff, and visit with your folks a little...if they’ll have it.” Taking her hand, I give it a fierce squeeze. “I’ll be at your side the whole time, whatever happens.”

  “I guess.” She stretches over the console to give me a quick kiss. “Thanks for having my back. You have no idea how much it helps.”

  I catch her lips with a growl and give her a long, solid kiss, intent on dragging her mind off what’s waiting.

  “If you change your mind about staying here, we can always rent a hotel or AirBnB. Just say the word.”

  “No.” She shakes her head. “If I’m in charge of my own life now, this is where it starts.”