by Taryn Quinn
“No. You take care. That’s just what you do. I don’t want you to get stuck taking care of me. You deserve more than that.” She shook her head, her gaze drifting to the blanket resting on her shivering shoulders. “It’s happening already.”
“Taking care of someone you care about—and who cares about you in return—isn’t a chore. It’s a gift. And who’s to say you don’t take care of me too? That’s what a relationship is supposed to be. Give and take.”
“Yeah. I’m getting to that.” Her sigh stirred her wet hanks of hair. “I drove around and guess where I ended up? Your house,” she said before he could guess. “I saw the sign.”
“Yes.” He tucked her blanket closer to her throat. “If you’re going to say I should’ve told you—”
“No. If you’d told me before, I would’ve run faster. Part of taking care is knowing how to deliver the truth in the best way for the other person. Not necessarily for you. I’m sure you wanted to tell me right away.”
He shifted his feet, more than a little surprised she’d guessed that. “Yes. I did.”
“But you waited, for me. Because you knew that instead of being proud of you for taking a big step, I’d make it all about me and shove you away.” She cupped his hand, squeezing lightly. “Smart cookie.”
“It would’ve been a natural reaction. I kept dropping hints about moving in here…”
“Hints I’ve been wanting to take you up on.” She met his gaze squarely. Not shying away in the slightest.
That was his Kim, strong and fierce and facing her life head-on.
“After I saw that sign, I knew we needed to talk,” she continued. “I’d started to figure it out anyway but that proved it. On the way back, lo and behold, my gas light comes on. I was not near home. I walked many miles in these shoes.” She lifted her foot and wiggled her strappy heel. “If this burning in my calves stops and I can still move tomorrow, I’m signing up for Sara’s Zumba classes. For real this time.” She held up three fingers like a Scout.
“You forgot to put gas in the car? Really, Kim?” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “You should’ve called.”
“I might’ve, had I remembered to bring my phone. Alas, I did not. So I walked.”
“What if—”
“What if someone accosted the wet pissed-off woman swearing with every step? Yeah right. I would’ve liked to see a bastard try.”
He laughed. Simply had no choice. Just like he had no choice but to pull her close. “I know I’m supposed to wait my turn but I can’t. I need to know now. Do I get another chance?”
“To fill me up?”
Dirty images invaded his mind and they had nothing to do with making sure she gassed up properly. “Sure. Call it whatever you like.”
“That depends.” She spoke against his throat.
“On what?”
She eased back, her big brown eyes as damp as her skin. “Do I?”
His heart squeezed and he buried his face in the damp ropes of her hair. “God, yes.” Swallowing hard, he cupped her face in his hands. “Do you know how worried I was about you? I never should’ve let you leave.”
“It all worked out in the end. The walk definitely cleared out my head.” A tear tracked down her cheek, dripping into his palm. “Though I have to admit I didn’t appreciate getting all that extra time to plan my speech.”
“I bet. Ouch.” He winced and glanced at her shoes again. Sexy shoes, undoubtedly. Worth the pain of a long walk, probably not. “You could’ve probably flagged someone down with a phone.”
“Maybe, maybe not. But it’s time I dig myself out of my messes.”
“You’ve always dug yourself out. That’s why I fell for you in the first place. One of the reasons anyway.” He stroked her temple. She brought out the need to touch in him every time she was in his arms—and even when she wasn’t. “I’m sorry. You have to be hurting.”
“I am. In more ways than one.” She let out a long breath and slid her fingers around his wrist, still framing her jaw. “Not many men would’ve stayed to handle the party after I stormed out.”
“I’m not most men.”
She gave him a tentative smile. “No freaking kidding. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. But if this is just about gratitude—”
“No. It’s not. I didn’t want you to let me go. And I don’t want you to sleep with a beautiful young chippie without cellulite, varicose veins or crow’s feet. That’s what expensive anti-aging creams and Botox are for. Plus I’m now taking Zumba. I expect to be insanely flexible by Christmas.”
He rubbed her lower lip, so grateful for her it took a moment to find his voice. “That so?”
“Yes. Though it wouldn’t be a bad thing if you said that you like me the way I am. I really wouldn’t mind.”
“I do like you just as you are.” He tipped up her face to his. “Actually that was a lie,” he said, enjoying her momentary pout. “And while we’re on the subject of them, I told one that night in my living room. I said that any man other than me would find you easy to fall for. That was a fucking whopper. So that makes three major lies I’ve told you. Four if you count the house. Because not only do I like you as you are, I love you. I think I loved you when you were texting obscenities at your ex and kicking your tire that first night—”
“Shut up.” Arching onto her tiptoes, she grabbed his face and covered his mouth with hers. Silencing everything but the wild beat of his heart and the breath he couldn’t hold back at the sensation of her warm, wet lips caressing his. Everything he’d ever wanted existed in the simplicity of their lips moving together.
When she finally pulled back, he dropped his forehead to hers. “Let’s go upstairs and fuck it out.”
Chuckling, she sagged in his embrace. With relief or exhaustion, he couldn’t tell. Maybe both. “Michael.”
“Don’t Michael me. I’m not a child. I know what I feel. You make me laugh. You make me happy in a way I’ve never been. I can’t get enough of you.”
“Infatuation is—”
“Not this,” he interrupted. “I see your flaws. Believe me, I see them.”
Easing back, she frowned. “Hey there.”
“I have them too. I’m not blind to yours or mine. But they don’t turn me off. Your flaws are gorgeous to me because they’re part of the whole. You can’t have a sunrise without the night. Your daybreak is worth every cloud.”
“Damn, don’t sweet talk me into submission. It’s so not fair.”
“It is fair. Everything is if it’ll keep you in my bed.” His lips quirked. “Or me in yours. I’m not fussy.”
“It’s too soon,” she whispered. “What if these feelings wear off?”
“What if? They feel really spectacular right now. I’m in no hurry to rush them along.” He smoothed his thumb over her wet cheek. “Are you?”
“No. I’m not. God, I’m so sorry. I practically pushed you into Casey’s arms.” She stroked his wrist, her watery eyes searching his. “You must’ve thought I didn’t care at all.”
“Actually it was the first time I was certain you did. You wouldn’t have gotten so mad if you weren’t jealous. But in case you still aren’t certain, I’m not interested in Casey. She was drunk and flirting with me, and you saw me trying to push her away. You’ll never have to worry if you can trust me. If I make a promise, I keep it.”
She lowered her head, blinking furiously. “I don’t deserve you.”
“Possibly not,” he said. When her gaze snapped back up, he grinned. “Guess you’ll have to work double-time to make sure you’re worth my while.” Circling her shoulders with his arm, he led her toward the stairs. “What was that you said about Zumba? When does that start?”
“Jerk.” Laughing, she punched him lightly in the side.
He waggled his brows. “Guess I have some stuff to make up to you too. Let’s go get started.”
“Wait.” She stopped. “We need to talk more about this.”
“Do you want me
to tell you that you’re not taking Roch’s place in my life? That I don’t have some kind of fixation on older women or something?”
Her focus on his face never wavered. “Yes.”
“Fine.” He took her shoulders and turned her toward him. “You couldn’t be less like Roch if you tried. If I was trying to find another one of her, you’d be my last choice. You’re a piss-poor replacement.”
“Thanks. I think.”
“The only people in this hallway are you and me. Let’s enjoy that for a while and stop inviting unwanted guests, okay?”
“You make it sound so easy.”
“It is easy. I’m falling for you.” Already fallen, he amended silently. “Your brother and best friend got married. And evidently, I need to keep an eye on your car right down to the gas tank.”
Her lips tugged upward. “One of those things is not like the others.”
“No. I’m also not like the other men you’ve been with.” He thought of what Brad had said about Kim’s usual speeches. They didn’t apply here. He would prove to her that she had made the right choice. “I’m going to be the best man I can be every day we’re together. You deserve a man worth holding on to.”
“You already are that man. It’s just… Michael, the last time I moved this fast with a guy, I got knocked up and married within a month. That didn’t end well.”
“This is different. We had a wedding today, just not ours. You won’t be getting knocked up but we can practice the process. A lot.” Thinking of Telly, he smiled. “We might be inheriting an offspring of sorts, though. With feathers. Think he’ll be okay with my cats?”
“Oh yeah, birds and cats go together swell.” Snorting, she shook her head. “Why are you asking about Telly, though? He’s going with Sara and Brad.”
“Not according to what Brad said on the phone when I called. Evidently their new place in Laramie is pet-free.”
“You called him because of me?”
He shrugged. “I needed advice about you.”
“Stop asking other people. Next time, we’ll figure things out together.” She stroked his wrist. “So is parenting Telly together part of falling for you? You’re like the damn bird whisperer.”
His smile grew. He hadn’t expected to hear the words for a while. “You’re admitting you’ve fallen for me?”
She flushed. Actually flushed. If he hadn’t been in love already, her pink cheeks would’ve sealed it. “Yes. I’m in deep, Montgomery. It’s all your fault.”
“I’ll happily take that blame since it turns out I’m in pretty deep as well. Guess we’ll have to figure it out together.” He kissed the top of her head. “Just tell me if you start feeling lost, little girl,” he murmured, hoping she remembered.
“Nope, not lost,” she said, echoing her first words to him that day after class. “I was waiting for you.”
Did you miss Sara and Brad’s story?
Read on for an excerpt of their story, DIRTY DISTRACTIONS.
Do younger men turn your crank?
DIRTY DISTRACTIONS
As a mechanic, Brad’s good with his hands. And he wants to put them all over Sara.
Sara might be a doctor who works with birds, but Brad’s the one who knows how to find all the right spots to make her purr. She wouldn’t mind that, if only she wasn’t ten years plus—mumble, mumble—older than him.
And if he wasn’t her best friend’s brother. Her younger brother.
Brad doesn’t care about their ages or the differences in the worlds they come from. They’re roommates, living together while Sara’s apartment is being renovated.
But they aren’t living alone. Brad’s big sister lives there too. And Sara’s pretty sure her bestie would prefer not to hear Sara having a screaming O with her brother.
Or a few dozen of them.
Then again, maybe rules are meant to be broken. And perhaps opposites attract—and age differences don’t matter nearly as much as other numbers.
Like how many days it takes to fall in love.
BUY or BORROW
Read on for an excerpt…
Chapter 1
In the three months, fifteen days and handful of hours since she’d last had sex, Sara Carmichael had thought of little else. Maybe not every minute, but way more frequently than usual. And the co-star of those fantasies was the grinning, often grease-spattered man currently ogling her from a few feet away across her best friend’s backyard.
Sara reclined in the chaise lounge by Kim’s pool and brought her cell phone close to her face, as if she were mesmerized by the scores of last night’s game. Instead she peered over the top of her phone, tracking the way Brad O’Halloran’s gaze tracked her as she idly ran her toes along her left calf.
She always felt exposed around him, though her basic black swimsuit didn’t exactly promise carnal delights. It was a bikini, true, but at forty-two, she doubted the under-thirty set would be getting erections looking at her curves.
Brad was under thirty. He also seemed tall enough to block out the sun as he rose and strode over to her, though she suspected her own modest five-foot-three height made it seem as if he were taller. As often covered in grease as he was in aftershave, Brad didn’t skimp on all those man pheromones that set a woman’s nose twitching.
Or her nipples hardening, depending.
As far as things went, Brad was a pretty good catch. A business owner, intelligent, pleasant to talk to. He was beyond hot. Sizzling. Scorching. And yet still really young.
Dammit.
“You’re going to go cross-eyed if you keep staring at that phone, Sara Smile.”
Sara Smile again. The old eighties song had come on one day earlier that summer and Brad had immediately adopted the nickname for her, probably in the hopes of driving her nuts. It was working.
She’d never had a nickname before. Sara was a utilitarian name, a proper moniker for a competent, professional woman whose life was normal in every way. Normal, familiar and predictable.
Well, not that predictable. At least to outsiders she appeared to be having the time of her life. She loved her job. She dated, and most of the guys she met were nice enough. If she was a little restless sometimes, a bit unsatisfied, that was to be expected.
“You’re standing in my light,” she protested, nudging him away with her elbow without looking where she was aiming. Her jab went a little high, glancing off his thigh perilously close to the bulge in his faded jeans.
“Hey, hey. Watch it.”
“Sorry.”
She stared at her phone and hoped he’d leave. Didn’t a guy like him have women to chase on a hot Sunday afternoon? Since he was recently divorced—after a marriage that had lasted less time than a TV sweeps period—surely he needed to reassert his dominance on the dating scene.
While she’d gotten to know a lot about Brad as a person, she didn’t know a lot about his love life, other than the occasional rumor that hinted he was a stranger to celibacy. She and Kim had become fast friends when Sara moved to Fairdale, Pennsylvania three years ago to work at the Fairdale Bird Sanctuary. Kim worked in the sanctuary’s gift shop and had helped Sara get used to a new home far from her family and friends back in Idaho.
Due to the timing of their simultaneous singledom, Brad and Kim had made the decision to temporarily live together while they fixed up their mother’s old Victorian home to sell. Two months ago Sara had taken over the spare bedroom after she’d lost her own apartment to building renovations. Telly, her conure, couldn’t tolerate paint fumes, so she’d gratefully accepted Kim’s offer to stay with them for a while.
Some nights the three of them would pop in a movie and share some popcorn and laugh their asses off about nothing. Kim and Brad were awesome roomies, and Sara wasn’t in any hurry to leave. She’d even told her landlord he could finish the renos at his own pace because she was so happy with her new arrangement. Being with them had offered her a respite from her solitary life, and she had no intention of ending the party early.
She hadn’t responded to his advances. And she wouldn’t, because of Kim, among other reasons. What friend wanted their much-younger brother to be cougar bait? Just because they were living like freewheeling college students didn’t alter her status as a respectable professional.
Who happened to lust after a guy she should’ve seen as a brother.
It was probably the low-slung towels he paraded around in after his showers. That had to be it. His damn ripped stomach would turn a virgin into a nympho. And she was no virgin.
“Kiss for your thoughts.” Brad grinned and dropped down at the end of her chair, sitting very close to her legs. She hastily scooted over, but he only used the extra room to sprawl.
Sara rolled her eyes. “I don’t kiss little boys.” Shit. She hadn’t meant to say something so mean—especially not with that note of challenge in her tone.
Brad’s grin widened. “Little’s not a word that’s ever been used to describe me.”
She didn’t blush or fidget at his reply. Years of schmoozing at fundraisers and events with the public had taught her well. She had a pretty good game face and knew he wouldn’t be able to decipher her reaction. But her pulse quickened, and the sudden dryness in her throat contrasted sharply with the surge of moisture between her thighs.
“I wasn’t referring to height.”
His grin deepened. So charming. So utterly cocky. “Me either.”
Deciding she’d had enough of his attempts to flirt or whatever the hell he was doing, she lifted her brows. “I’m forty-two. I’ve seen a lot. A lot,” she emphasized, though it was only recently she’d seen much of anything. And most of what she’d seen she’d already forgotten.
That was partially because she’d given up having men over when she’d moved in with Kim. It seemed awkward, and she didn’t relish meeting Brad over coffee the next morning while her sheets still smelled like another guy’s aftershave. It felt…weird. So she’d accepted her love life would consist of sleepovers at the guy’s place until she grew out of her need to live with her friends as if she were twenty all over again. She wasn’t seeing any man in particular right now anyway. None of them interested her enough.
