by Aria Ford
“I wanted to tell you,” Riley said hoarsely, “you look stunning.”
I felt myself blush.
“Well, you don’t look too awful either.”
He laughed. “Well then. Thanks. I think.”
He stepped forward. I stepped forward. Our arms intertwined around each other. His body pressed to mine and our lips met. The kiss we shared here was hard and hot and passionate. His tongue stuck into my mouth and I opened my lips to let it enter. My body was on fire with need.
We held onto each other and collapsed in the sitting room on the couch, hands frantic with need, mouths sucked close.
CHAPTER SIX
Riley
I couldn’t quite believe it as I collapsed onto the couch beside Brooklyn. I breathed in the sweet rose scent of her perfume and I let my hands stroke her hair. I couldn’t quite believe that she was here in my arms. It wasn’t possible.
My body was on fire, drowning out all further thoughts. I thrust my tongue between those sweet lips and heard her groan and I wanted her so badly I thought I would come right here.
“Upstairs?” I asked shakily. She nodded.
“Why not?”
We were both a little crazy, I thought in wonder as I followed her up the stairs to her bedroom. Something about the situation had turned our heads: Made us lose our minds. But then, I don’t think I was quite sane to think of this—I lost my mind the moment I saw her.
In her bedroom, we switched on the light and went to her bed. She seemed shy, suddenly, and went to draw the curtains. I went up to stand behind her. That sweet figure pressed against me and the feeling of her pressed against my hard cock made my belly clench.
“Brooklyn,” I whispered.
“Riley.”
She twisted in my arms and we kissed.
As we did, I let my hands work down to her front. She was wearing a brown jacket with a silky-soft feel to it. I slid it off her shoulders, shivering as my finger traced the silky soft cloth. I imagined tracing her skin in the same way. My body throbbed and then I was undoing her buttons one by one.
“Let me,” she whispered, giggling.
Both of us were stripped of our clothes. My cock was hard and ready to penetrate her.
I stared at her where she stood. Her breasts were full, the nipples reddish. Her skin was pale, her figure soft and so sweet I wanted to throw her onto the bed and slide inside her. I wanted her so much… achingly much!
I went over to the bed. She followed me. We collapsed together onto it, me pulling her body hard against my own. I felt my poor cock throbbing as it slid against her. She looked up at me and I looked down at her.
“Yes,” she panted.
I knelt between her knees and slid into her. I thought I would actually die as the sweetness of her overwhelmed me. I didn’t know anything after that—only the warm clinging wetness inside her and the sounds she made as I thrust.
After what could have been a few minutes though it felt like forever, I collapsed on top of her, still pumping weakly inside her.
We lay together for a long while as I drifted in the haze that followed the most profound orgasm I had ever had in my life.
After a long time, she wriggled out, and we lay together, with my arms holding her close.
I whispered her name in her ear, but I think she was asleep. As we lay together, I felt at once the deepest peace and the deepest worry I’d felt in ages.
We aren’t really married. We agreed to dissolve this after six months.
Of all the crazy things that weren’t supposed to happen, us ending up like this was top of the list. Actually, second on the list. First on the list of “Things Not Supposed to Happen” was me falling for her.
Whoops, I thought, biting my lip. I think I did that too.
***
It took me a while to realize that I was lying beside Riley in my own bed. I guess I fell asleep pretty smartly. That made me smile shyly. I hadn’t had sex for so long I’d forgotten how good it could feel. And yes, even if I’d had it yesterday, it wouldn’t have compared, probably, to what I felt.
That was amazing.
I was still shivering with the post-orgasmic trembles. I stirred and Riley moved, so we lay together with his arms round me. I lay there trying to sleep—he was evidently sleeping, his breath low and paced—but I was awake.
What have I done? And why?
I couldn’t quite believe that I had actually gone through with this. I was married to Riley Robson, my handyman. Only for six months.
It would have been crazy enough if I wasn’t this minute in bed with the man. How could I have actually done this? We had agreed the other day that we weren’t going to be actual lovers. Okay, fine—it was likely in both our minds when we decided on this. But I’d promised I wouldn’t do it.
Now I had.
I sighed and rolled over. He woke up.
“Riley,” I whispered.
“Mm?”
“I think you should go.”
He rolled up onto one elbow. Looked down at me. I felt him bend to kiss me and I closed my eyes.
“Don’t?” I whispered. “Just go.”
I heard him let out a long sigh. He sounded almost as sad as I felt, I realized with surprise. I rolled over and turned my back on him.
“Okay,” he whispered.
I lay there with my back to the door as he slid out. I heard him getting dressed and then climbing, slowly, up the stairs to the room we had chosen as his. I knew, as I heard his steps leave me, that I regretted that. I wished he could stay. But he couldn’t. I couldn’t risk loving him.
This was an arrangement, not a marriage. And besides, I didn’t want anything else. My life with Richard taught me that.
I heard him walk across the upstairs floor and I turned in my bed, wishing I could forget all about him. Forget this happened.
I don’t want another man in my life. Not now or ever. I want to look after my daughter as best I can. I chose to bring Riley in for a short time only—his good influence on her has brought her out of herself—but just a short time.
Somehow, right inside me, I didn’t really think any good could come of me settling down. I was sure Richard was right—I couldn’t make a relationship work. It would all be fighting and drama and torment and my daughter would be sent back from her tentative confidence to a silent, dark place again. I couldn’t sustain healthy relationships.
I can’t afford to let this guy hang around in my life. Six months is the limit.
I had to be ready to push him away after those six months.
As I rolled over, my brow furrowed with a frown, I wondered if maybe Richard hadn’t been blaming me where it wasn’t my fault.
No, I told myself harshly. It’s as much your fault as his. You’re the dysfunctional one—he always said so. You can’t afford to get involved again. Not now or ever.
I bit my lip and held back the anger and the sadness at that. It was in that moment, as I lay on my side with the scent of Riley in my nose and my heart aching, that I realized I was really falling for him.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Brooklyn
I woke the next morning feeling restless and thin-skinned. It was still my holiday—I’d taken a week off over Christmas—so at least I didn’t have to face colleagues at work. Even so, it was going to be hard to keep going today.
I went down to breakfast and put the kettle on. Riley wasn’t anywhere to be seen. Strangely, though most of me rejoiced, a part of me was sad.
I tried to be firm with myself. But part of me longed to sit here in the quiet space of the kitchen and savor time with him. Maybe he decided to leave?
“Come on, Brooklyn. Breakfast time.”
I made coffee and found cereal and milk and sat down for a quick breakfast, reviewing my day. I had agreed to fetch Parker from Leonora’s house by ten o’ clock this morning. I looked at my watch—it said twenty past nine. That gave me forty minutes to finish breakfast and drive down there. I’ll probably go out and
come back before he comes downstairs.
I was washing the dishes when I heard someone whistling in the hallway. I looked round to see Riley there, dressed in overalls.
“Riley?” I stared at him. He looked up at me. Our eyes met.
I swallowed hard. “Where’ve you been?”
“In the yard, roundabout,” he shrugged. “I thought I’d get things fixed.”
“What things?”
“Well, I noticed your boiler doesn’t work properly. So I fixed that. And the window in the sitting room is sticking. It should be okay.”
I gaped. “Riley!”
“What?” He smiled.
“You spent the morning fixing up my house?”
He nodded. His eyes looked suddenly wary, as if he wasn’t sure if he should have done that or not. I sighed.
“Thank you,” I said sincerely. I meant it. Those things had been on my mind for months, but I’d never had time to either see to them or get someone in. I’d been meaning to for ages, but it hadn’t happened before Christmas. And I hadn’t even thought about it afterward.
He looked down. “It was nothing—really.”
I felt my heart tighten as if someone had clutched it in a fist. He had done this to help me. Strangely, at that moment, I couldn’t imagine a gesture of affection more touching than someone fixing my boiler or loosening the window in the sitting room so it opened.
I wonder if…I dismissed the thought.
“Thanks,” I said again. “Did you have breakfast?” I kept my tone light.
“I didn’t,” he admitted. “Have you got cereal?”
I grinned. “On the table. Um, Riley?”
“Mm?” he asked, already sitting at the table. Our eyes met and an odd look passed between us. A look that held longing and hesitance at the same time.
“I have to go and fetch Parker. Be back soon.”
“Okay.” He shrugged. He looked down at his breakfast. “Can I help?”
“I just have to head out to Leonora’s home—I’ll be back in about thirty minutes.”
“Fine,” he nodded. “See you then.”
I blinked. “Okay.”
As I went out to the drive, I wondered why his standoffish attitude upset me. I was the one who asked him to leave. I was the one who wanted to treat this as a formal agreement. To stick to our plan. He hadn’t done anything.
Somehow I guess I wanted him to argue with me. Wanted him to insist we had a less, well, formal interaction.
I sighed. Brooklyn Price, I told myself, you are really confused now.
I had no idea what I wanted or expected from him. Most of me wanted things to be as they were—easy, distant, straightforward. It was only a small sliver—maybe ten percent of me, I reasoned—that wanted more from this.
I closed my eyes momentarily as I drove, thinking about last night. How his hands caressed me, the sweetness of being penetrated like that. I wanted to scream, thinking about it.
How am I supposed to keep distance from that? I ground my teeth angrily. I had agreed to this. I would keep my distance. I would.
By the time I arrived at Leonora’s, I was more or less calmed down. I slid out of the driver’s seat, fastened my jacket and went to the door.
Ten minutes later, a cheerful Parker was on the back seat, looking happy.
“You said Mister Riley was staying here?” she asked as we rolled up to the house.
“Um, yes,” I said. I wasn’t sure yet what to tell her. We had decided to say he was moving in while repairs were made on his house. That way Parker wouldn’t be hurt when he left.
“Will he stay long?” she asked, unclasping her seat belt as we stopped.
“Um, a few months,” I said slowly.
“Months! Ooh!” Parker opened the door and slid out, looking cheerful. “That’s like forever.”
I grinned. How wonderful to be eight years old when months stretched out like years!
“Well, not really,” I said slowly. “But maybe it’ll seem that way,” I added with a laugh.
“Why?” Parker asked curiously.
“Well, we might get sick of him,” I said conspiratorially. “And you know how it is in class and you just want the lesson to end so you can go have lunch? But it feels live forever?”
Parker giggled. “Oh, but we couldn’t feel that!” she grinned. “Mister Riley’s nice. I want him to stay forever.”
I closed my eyes. Brooklyn, I told myself angrily. What have you gotten us into?
I was falling for Riley and, it seemed, my daughter was enamored too, if in another way. I couldn’t very well turn my back now and just pretend Riley didn’t exist. But that was precisely what I had agreed to do.
“Hello?” I called, opening the front door.
“Mister Riley!” Parker exclaimed, running up. “Look at my hair! Isn’t it pretty?”
I walked in after her, more quietly. The house was silent. I looked at Parker and she looked at me.
“Riley?” I called.
“I’m in here,” Riley called from upstairs. We went up into the sitting room together.
“Mister Riley!”
I was surprised when Parker launched herself at him, embracing his legs. I saw his face turn from amazement to peculiar tenderness as he stroked her hair delicately. He looked up at me.
“Hello,” he greeted her.
“You staying here with us?” she asked, looking at him with those slightly-squint blue eyes that were impossibly adorable. “See my hairstyle?”
“It’s very pretty, Parker,” he said gently. She and Stella had spent the morning before my arrival styling each other’s hair. Parker’s hair was in two plaits and did, in fact, look very pretty.
“Good!” she enthused. “What’re you doing?” She looked about the room with interest.
“Just fixing the TV cable,” he commented, and I noticed him packing a toolbox. “It should pick up all the channels now.”
I rolled my eyes. “Riley Robson.”
“Mm?”
I fought to control the conflicting emotions. On the one hand, I was grateful he was doing things around my house. On the other hand, I resented it—not only did it highlight the neglect I’d show in maintenance, but it also made me wonder if he was trying to prove himself useful.
“Nothing,” I said harshly. Parker and he looked at me. She looked up at him next and he shrugged. I turned in the doorway, planning to go do the laundry.
“Give me a minute, sweetie,” he said to Parker gently when I left. She nodded and went over to the window, looking out over the street.
I heard him coming down the stairs behind me. I walked quickly away. He caught up with me at the kitchen. I was busy sorting laundry.
Here it comes, I thought grimly. He’s going to start berating me. I’ve offended him and now he’s going to stop pretending to be Mr. Nice Guy and let me have it.
I waited dully for the onslaught. He cleared his throat.
“Have I upset you?” he asked.
I stared. If I’d been holding something I likely would have dropped it. It was the last thing I expected him to say.
“No,” I managed, clearing my throat. “You haven’t upset me, Riley.”
“Then what’s up?” he asked. “I know there’s something.”
“No,” I said, turning my back on him as I loaded the machine. “You didn’t do anything and I’m not upset.”
“Brooklyn…” He crossed the kitchen and reached out. I backed away.
“Riley,” I said, through clenched teeth. “Please. Let’s just stick to the rules. Okay? No touching. No sweet talk. Just business.”
He looked at me with wounded eyes. “Brooklyn, I…”
“No buts.” I said it harshly, turning my back as I got on with the task at hand.
“Okay,” he sighed. “In that case, I’m going out.”
“Oh?” I asked, turning to face him. “Where to?”
“The bank.”
“Oh.” I scraped my hair off my br
ow, frowning up at him. We were almost the same height but he was perhaps two inches taller and I had to look up into his eyes. “Why now? Do you need me too?”
He cleared his throat uncomfortably. “I guess I do,” he said. “Sorry. I should wait.”
“No,” I said again. “I can go.”
“Okay. But only if you’re sure.”
I nodded. “It’ll only be about half an hour, right?”
He frowned. “Should be. I emailed them yesterday to find out what I need to apply for a business loan—what we need…” he added. “Seems straightforward. Bring your ID, a gas bill as proof of residence, my bank details…we should be okay.”
“Okay,” I shrugged. “Sounds fair.”
“Brooklyn, you’ll be compensated fairly,” he said quickly. “I swear it. We’re partners in this business. You’ll take half the proceeds.”
I stared at him. “No, Riley. We didn’t say that.”
“Well, I’m saying it now,” he said quickly. “I’m not having you taking risks for me.”
I sighed. He’d touched me deeply. “Thanks,” I said.
“Not at all. Thank you.”
I swallowed hard, and found myself blinking back sudden tears. It was only after he had gone to get dressed and I had finished in the kitchen, tidying up, that I realized what it was that moved me. He was appreciative.
Richard always acted like I was a bad smell. Riley acts as if I make him happy just by being.
I sighed. The trouble was that I felt that: he made me happy just by being.
“Come on, Mrs. Price,” I told myself firmly as the tenderness for him swept through me. “Let’s get ready—you’re being stupid.”
It was only after I’d explained to Parker where we were going and asked her if she’d be okay with waiting in the kiddie’s section while we were in the bank that I realized the way I spoke to myself in my head was still the way Richard talked to me.
I am going to change that voice, I decided as I rolled my hair back and clipped it away from my face. If it’s the last thing I do.
“You look pretty, Mommy,” Parker said as I emerged into the hallway, my papers in my hand.
