Romancing the Bachelor (A Hamilton Family Series)

by Diane Alberts

  That was all.

  Yeah. Keep telling yourself that, buddy.

  He pulled back abruptly, leaving her hanging and decidedly un-kissed. “I have to go.” He needed to separate himself from her for the night, take a deep breath, and remind himself to keep his fool heart closed to anything warm, soft, or tender. She didn’t want his heart, or him, and he’d best remember that before it was too late and he ruined everything.

  “Are you okay?” she asked, her forehead wrinkling.

  “Yeah, I just forgot something.” Like my damn common sense. He picked up his jacket and bent for his shoes. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay?”

  And then he ran like hell.

  Chapter Sixteen

  They walked down the road together, holding hands, and the streetlights flickered overhead. The air was damp with recent rain, and the macadam shone in the moonlight. Their feet splashed in the puddles with each step they took, and he tightened his grip on her hand. After his weird exit last night, she hadn’t been sure what to expect from him today, but he seemed normal, for the most part. She still didn’t know what had spooked him.

  One second he’d been there, about to kiss her, and the next…

  He’d been gone.

  “I didn’t like the end of that movie,” he said, breaking the comfortable silence.

  “Why not?” she asked, glancing up at him. The moonlight played with his scruff and his hard jaw, making him look harder than normal. Or maybe that was her overactive imagination playing tricks on her again. “What was wrong with it?”

  They’d seen a drama. It had been a movie about a couple who met on a train, didn’t see each other after their breakup, and then ran into each other years later. The man, Harry, had since been married, and they’d had an affair, but in the end, the man stayed with his wife while the heroine, Jessica, faded away into nothing. It had been an emotional, well-acted, and well-written movie.

  It was up for a few Oscars and everything.

  “He loved Jessica.” He stared straight ahead. “Love like that only happens once. He might have married Marie, but his heart belonged to Jessica. It always did. They were meant to be.”

  She took a deep breath, staring at him in surprise. Was he a closet romantic who believed in soul mates? “But he had kids with Marie, and was happy.”

  “He might have thought he was happy, but he wasn’t. He was alive, but he wasn’t living.” He pulled her to a stop, dragging her into an alley and into the shadows. He backed her against the wall, and she gasped at the contrast of the cool, sharp edges of the brick and his hard, warm chest. “There’s a difference, you know.”

  Oh, she knew that all too well.

  Without him, she was alive.

  With him, she was living.

  Maybe that was why she’d put her Skype videoconference with her potential employer off until tomorrow, and maybe that was why she hadn’t told Eric about her job offer yet, and her upcoming move. Maybe, just maybe, if she walked away from this, from him, she’d never find it again…and that’s what really scared the hell out of her.

  She couldn’t stay for him, though.

  Couldn’t give up her shot at a real job, in a small town like she’d always wanted, for something that may or may not last. Heck, she didn’t even know if he felt this same undeniable pull for her that she felt for him. He’d never once given her reason to believe he might want more than what they already had.

  A friendship.

  So why would she even think about walking away from a job for him?

  Hadn’t she learned her lesson when she came here for a boy and got left in the city alone? Logic said yes. Logic said a loud hell no when it came to staying here for a guy again.

  But her heart…

  That was a whole other story.

  She fisted his jacket, holding on tight. His mouth met hers, and all those thoughts, all those doubts, drifted away like leaves caught in the wind. She gripped his jacket, opening her mouth under his, and his tongue slipped inside. Shivering, she shifted closer to him, needing him to give her the relief that only he could give her, as hooked on him as she had been the first day she met his eyes in the courtroom and realized he was looking at her, too.

  Damn him.

  And damn her.

  Every fiber in her body came alive under his kiss. Every single nerve sang with desire for him. With the need to be with him. But she was supposed to ignore this, all of this, and leave.

  How could she do it?

  How could she not?

  He lifted her, stepping between her thighs, and thrust his hips against her, making her moan into his mouth. He swallowed the sound, slipping his hand between them, and touched her where she needed him most. She writhed against him, whimpering, and buried her hands in the hair at the nape of his neck, refusing to let go and refusing to read too much into the fact that she never wanted to. Like, ever. Her nails dug into his scalp, and he growled, thrusting against her again as his fingers rolled in fast, hard circles.

  Her stomach tightened and her breath quickened as his strokes brought her higher and higher until—“Yes,” she breathed into his mouth. “Eric.”

  One more jerk of his wrist and she was flying into heaven, lost in the clouds inside a dark alleyway in Atlanta, and scarily enough, there was nowhere else she’d rather be.

  “Shit.” He pulled back, resting his forehead on hers. “Shel…”

  “I know.” She wasn’t sure what she was saying she knew, but it felt right. “Take me home. I want to make you feel the same way you make me feel.”

  His grip on her hips tightened, shifted, and he said so quietly she almost missed it: “You already do.”

  “Eric…”

  He stepped back, his head lowered. “I know.”

  Man, it really did work.

  It meant nothing, yet everything, all at once.

  “I didn’t like the end, either.” She bit her lip. “I wanted them to be together, after all they’d gone through to get there. It’s sad that they were meant to be, but couldn’t make it work because of timing. It’s even sadder that it happens in real life.”

  He stared at her.

  She stared back, waiting, willing, him to say that he knew what she was saying.

  That he felt it, too.

  If he gave her the slightest indication he felt what she felt, maybe she’d ignore logic, and give it all up for him. Maybe she’d ignore the warning bells screaming at her to run away, to not get sucked into another relationship with a guy who’d make her stay in the city, and give them a shot—a real shot—at a happy ending. If he wanted her, too, she’d make sure they weren’t another Jessica and Harry, doomed from the start.

  They could get their happy ending.

  Instead, though, he pressed his mouth into a thin line, avoided her eyes, and stepped back. “Yeah, it does sometimes, doesn’t it?”

  As he lowered her to her feet and let go of her, her heart wrenched, and she blinked rapidly and turned her face away so he wouldn’t see how emotionally vulnerable she was right now. Whatever he saw, or didn’t see, in her face wouldn’t lead to anything good.

  They walked back to their building in silence, and the second his apartment door closed behind them, he was on her. His mouth moved over hers with a desperation he’d never voiced, and his hands roamed over her as if he wanted to memorize every inch of her body.

  His kiss was like a thousand kisses, and a thousand moments of fear, pain, and joy, all put into one. It was mind-blowing. Life changing. Decision altering.

  That might be overkill, but that didn’t make it any less true.

  He lifted her in his arms and carried her to his room, his mouth never straying from hers. She clung to his shoulders, her head spinning, her world changing, and the only thought that made any lick of sense was… I can’t leave him.

  He laid her on the bed, and she let go of him reluctantly as he stood and shrugged out of his clothes. As he stepped out of his pants, she rolled over and grabbed a
condom out of the drawer on his dresser. She knew where they were now. Just like she knew his favorite color was blue, his biggest fear was failure, and he wanted to get a dog who had been through so much shit no one could ever love it…and he was going to give it the life it deserved.

  Just like she knew…knew…

  She loved…

  Craaaaap.

  He kissed a path up her thigh, nipping the skin above her knee, and slid his hands under her butt, lifting her up. She wore a loose skirt today, and he flipped it up over her hips, watching him move his hands over her with an intensity that stole the breath right out of her lungs. He looked at her as if she were the only woman on Earth, the only woman he’d ever done this to, the only woman he ever wanted to do this to. For a second, she let herself believe it.

  Let herself believe he felt it, too.

  That unique specialness they shared.

  While she was at it, in this magical, fairy-godmother land of hers, maybe she could also pretend there was a world, an alternate universe, where the two of them got to live happily ever after. Where she didn’t have to give up a job to be with him, and he didn’t have to ask her to. Where they met and nothing stood in the way of them being together. Where they could be happy.

  That world? That life?

  It was a magical, make-believe place.

  Too bad that’s all it was.

  His mouth closed over her, where he’d touched her just moments before, and her panties joined his clothes on the floor. As his tongue moved over her, tasting her, teasing her, all of those thoughts about a world where they got to be together faded away, and all that was left was Eric Hamilton, the man she’d gone and fallen for, and the man she was going to have to leave.

  “Eric,” she said, her voice hitched and strangled from the pleasure that lifted her higher and higher, threatening to break her in half. When she came, he climbed up her body, settling into the crook of her thighs naturally.

  As he slid a condom on, he watched her, his face lit with an emotion she couldn’t name…or one she didn’t dare to try to, anyway. But it was there for her to see.

  Whether he wanted her to see it or not.

  His eyes closed for a second, and when they opened and met hers, it was like he saw straight down to her soul. “Shelby. I…”

  He pressed his mouth together, cutting himself off, and then kissed her as he thrust inside of her with one sure, hard stroke. As he moved inside her, bringing her back up that mountain of pleasure again, she closed her eyes, and all she could see was the way he’d looked at her before he was buried inside her body, one with her. He might not have said the words, and she might be imagining things she had no business imagining, but as he brought her to climax again…

  She heard what he was saying, loud and clear.

  It changed everything.

  Chapter Seventeen

  The next evening, on Saturday, Eric walked down the street, holding Shelby’s favorite flowers and a bottle of cold champagne. His steps were lighter than they’d been in days. After too damn much agonizing, he’d finally realized last night that he was overthinking way too damn much. Yes, he liked Shelby. Yes, he didn’t want things to end.

  So, like Anna said, they didn’t need to.

  When Shelby got a job, he’d help her pack, send her on her way, and then…they could do long-distance dating. People did that. People made it work. They could be those people.

  Over time, if he still liked her as much as he did now, then they would figure out what came next. She could come back, maybe, and they’d live happily ever after…

  If such a thing existed.

  “Did you do it yet?” he asked.

  Brett shoved his hands into his pockets. They’d run into each other at the store and were walking together until they reached their places. “No. I’m waiting for the perfect moment.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I don’t know.” He let out a frustrated sound. “Hence the delay.”

  “I’m not a romantic guy, but I think the perfect moment is in the asking,” Eric said hesitantly.

  Brett side-eyed him. “For a not romantic guy, that was awfully romantic.”

  “Maybe.” He laughed. “I’m going to ask a big question, too.”

  “What?” Brett asked immediately, looking at Eric with narrowed blue eyes.

  “I’m going to ask Shelby to be my long-distance girlfriend after she gets a job.”

  Brett whistled through his teeth. “Wait. Was she your girlfriend in the first place?”

  “I mean, we never had the talk. But we’re adults; we didn’t need to. We both know what’s going on. So I’m going to ask her if we can keep this thing we have going when she leaves.”

  Brett blinked. He held his hands out and raised his voice. “Eric Hamilton, the eternal bachelor, has a girlfriend. Alert the press!”

  The people walking by looked at them in confusion.

  One pretty girl checked out Brett. He wore an expensive suit, and the aura of money practically shone around him. “Do you have one?” she asked.

  “Yep.” He lowered his arms and smiled at the girl. “Soon to be fiancée.”

  The girl shrugged and walked off.

  “Get used to saying that. If you’re committed, you’ll be saying it a lot,” Brett told him.

  Eric flipped him off.

  “It’s true.”

  “I know it is.” Eric shifted the champagne to his other hand. “That’s okay, though. Being committed feels…nice.”

  Brett looked at him weirdly. “Shit. You’re for real, aren’t you?”

  “Yeah.” He stopped in front of his building, to the left of the gold revolving doors. “When I’m with her, I feel different. Like I’m a better man or something. I know it’s stupid, but—”

  “It’s not stupid,” Brett said, his voice softer as he smiled. “It’s how your sister makes me feel. That’s when I realized I was in love with her.”

  Eric swallowed hard. “Well, I’m not in love. I just like her a lot.”

  “Yeah.” He patted Eric’s shoulder, grinning. “Sure, buddy.”

  He bit back a second denial.

  It would only sound forced.

  But what if Brett was right? What if Eric loved Shelby? He’d never been a believer in that emotion, but he’d never thought he would want to be in a relationship, either, let alone a long-distance one. Clearing his throat, he forced his thoughts back to Brett’s problem. It was safer. “Ask my sister to marry you. Stop waiting for the perfect moment—make it perfect instead.”

  “When are you going to ask Shelby to be your long-distance girlfriend?”

  “Probably during sex, since I’m not very romantic and she’ll be blinded by pleasure.” Eric frowned. “Which is something you don’t do with my sister, so come up with your own plan.”

  Brett rolled his eyes. “Sure we don’t. I just braid her hair and watch movies with her.”

  “Exactly.” He walked backward into the revolving door. “Just do it.”

  “I will,” Brett said, raising a hand. “Thanks, man.”

  As Eric walked toward the elevators, he thought about what Brett had said. Was he right? Was this feeling he had for Shelby, this warm, good, fuzzy feeling in his heart, love?

  Was he even capable of that type of emotion?

  He’d told himself he wouldn’t let himself fall for her, but what if he’d fallen for her in that elevator, the second she told him she didn’t like him, and he’d never gotten back up.

  Maybe there was no way he could.

  The doors opened, and he stepped into the elevator, ignoring the urge to run. He could run, but it wouldn’t change anything. He’d fallen for Shelby Jefferson, and nothing would change that. Besides, he wasn’t a runner. He was a fucking fighter, and he’d fight for what they had.

  She had to feel it, too.

  This couldn’t be one-sided.

  The doors opened, and he walked toward her apartment. As he neared, he saw her door was
cracked and slowed his steps. She didn’t know he was coming by, since he had been expecting to work until eight, so why had she left it open? As he got closer, he heard two voices.

  Shelby’s…and a man’s.

  He froze, one foot in midair.

  “So you’d be leaving on the fifth, correct?” the man asked. “For…Texas?”

  The fifth? That was less than a week away.

  What the fuck?

  “Yes,” Shelby answered. “Is that too soon? I found out I’d be leaving two weeks ago, but I kind of put off calling for a mover until the last minute.”

  “It shouldn’t be a problem. We had a cancellation.”

  She’d known she was leaving for two weeks, and she hadn’t even told him?

  “Great. What time would you guys show up to pack it all?” she asked.

  “First thing in the morning.” A small silence, and then: “How many bedrooms?”

  “Just the one.”

  The man made an approving sound. “So two people live here?”

  “No. Just me.”

  “Oh. I saw that jacket…” He laughed. “Sorry.”

  “It’s okay. It belongs to a friend of mine.”

  A friend.

  A motherfucking friend.

  He tightened his grip on the flowers, stepping back. She was leaving, had known she was leaving for weeks, and didn’t even tell him. That’s how much he meant to her.

  He didn’t even get a fucking heads-up.

  Shaking his head, he looked down at the flowers he’d bought for Shelby, tightened his grip on them, and turned on his heel, heading for the elevators. As he waited for it to come, he tossed the flowers in the overfilled trash can by the doors. Here he was, thinking he was falling for her, and she was planning on leaving him…

  Without even telling him about it first.

  He’d known she wanted out. Known she would get a job eventually. But he’d assumed she would, you know, tell him when she accepted one.

  Not just poof out of his life like a fucking genie in a bottle.

  He was okay with her leaving. He wasn’t okay with being so unimportant to her that she could accept a job and call a mover without telling him about it. Rationally, he knew she would probably tell him eventually, but irrationally, he didn’t give a flying fuck.