The One You Can't Forget

by Roni Loren

  “I hope so.” Rebecca looked up from under her lashes, her gaze wary. “But that’s not all. Steven was the guy.”

  Wes blinked, the words not making sense. “The guy?”

  Rebecca rubbed her lips together. “The mugger. The one with the gun. He admitted it to me today. That’s how we got into the other conversation. I saw the look on his face when I mentioned I was helping a dog who’d been shot.”

  Reality crashed into Wes at that, sirens going off in his head. Steven was the mugger. Steven, the kid he’d grown close to, had robbed Rebecca at gunpoint. He turned to fully face her. “He—”

  “And I’m not telling the police.”

  Wes’s thoughts rammed into one another like an interstate pileup. “Hold up, what?”

  Her eyes pleaded with him. “I’m not reporting it. I can’t do that to him, Wes. If I tell, he’s done. Any shot he has of getting out of his current situation, of going to college or culinary school or whatever goal he has will be gone. I can’t help him with his dad and then turn around and push him into juvenile detention. Or jail.”

  “I get that,” Wes said, trying to process it all. “But, Rebecca, he had a gun. He shot a dog. He could’ve shot you. That’s a really big line to cross. Teaching him that he gets a do-over is… I don’t know if that’s the best thing.”

  She slipped her hands into his, her gaze earnest. “I know. Believe me. My father is running on a tough-on-crime platform, so I’ve heard all the reasons why second chances can be bad ideas. I know Steven crossed a huge line. An epically dangerous one. But in your gut, do you think he’s a violent kid? Or is he a kid in a terrible situation who made a really bad decision?”

  “Bec, you know I care about Steven, but…”

  “One thing can change the whole trajectory of a life. One. Thing. I’ve seen it happen. Imagine if when you were going through your bad time you’d have hit someone with your car while you were drinking.”

  He winced. He had, in fact, gotten a DUI. But no one had been hurt and no one else had been in the car, so he’d gotten off with a misdemeanor. But it could’ve easily gone the other way. He still woke up in a sweat sometimes thinking about all the could’ve beens. He could’ve killed someone. “I’d be in jail.”

  “Exactly. In jail. Not living your life, helping kids. Not contributing to the world. Not…” She squeezed his hand. “Being this amazing person.”

  His chest tightened.

  “Knight is going to be okay,” she said. “I wasn’t hurt. Giving Steven one more chance to take the right turn instead of the wrong one could make all the difference for him. I believe he’s a good kid who wants to do the right thing. I think that night terrified him. He knows it was a mistake and wants to do better, to be more than that. In fact, if he works really hard, I think he could one day be as wonderful as his mentor.”

  Wes closed his eyes. The unadulterated belief in her voice undid him. Just unraveled every damn logical argument he had. “I don’t deserve to be looked up to like that. He better become more than a recovering alcoholic who let his dream slip through his fingers.”

  Rebecca reached up and gripped the front of his shirt, getting his attention. “Hey, none of that. Hopefully he’ll have an easier path, but he’d be beyond lucky to be like you. You don’t see how fantastic you are. You’re a talented chef, Wes. But with those kids, you’re…magic.” She pressed her palm to his chest, the gentle heat stirring something tender and bone deep in him. “You’re doing exactly what you were put on this earth to do, and the world is better for it.”

  The back of his throat was burning, her words seeping into him and waking up places that had long gone dark. He wanted to refute her compliments, to cast them off as being kind or trying to give him a boost. But Rebecca wasn’t a bullshitter, and he could see it in her face. She meant every word of it. When she looked at him, that was who she saw. A good man. A teacher. Someone his students could look up to. And of all the things people had said to him in his life, he wasn’t sure he’d ever felt their impact quite as much.

  On top of that, today, she’d put his student first. A boy who had terrified her with a gun and put her through a traumatizing robbery. Wes had managed not to go down the same criminal path as his parents because of people like her. Ed and Carolina had looked at him and seen the potential, the good. They’d given him another chance when he hadn’t done anything to earn it. Now Rebecca was affording Steven the same.

  In that moment, a terrifying, rattle-him-to-the-marrow realization hit him. He wasn’t obsessed with Rebecca. He was falling in love with this woman.

  For real.

  For keeps.

  A tight fear gripped him. He thought he knew what falling for someone felt like, but he’d never felt this particular type of feeling for Brittany. He’d been drawn to her wildness and the excitement. He’d labeled that “falling in love,” but it hadn’t felt like this. This was picturing the start of a new life and watching it grow with someone else, wondering how much richer this connection could become with time, seeing the future roll out ahead. It was also like stepping off the side of a cliff, not knowing if there was water to land in below—your stomach jumping into your throat and your eyes blind to the outcome.

  Falling for Rebecca had not been the plan. He wasn’t sure what to do with that particular feeling. She hadn’t even said yes to a dating relationship yet. She might never. He was falling for someone who had straight up told him she didn’t believe in the gamble of long-term relationships and marriage.

  Wes swallowed hard, trying to choke back the panic that wanted to erupt. “Thank you for being there for Steven. You’re an incredible woman, Rebecca.” He grabbed her wrist and tugged her closer, needing to shut down his brain and not overthink this. “And now I’m going to kiss you, so you better tell me to stop if you want to keep talking.”

  She smiled a smile that reached right into him and twisted every part of him. “No more talking. I’m all yours.”

  * * *

  Rebecca’s brain was whirling, her thoughts and emotions all over the place, but she accepted the invitation for oblivion that Wes was offering. No more thinking. No more worrying. Right now, there was just this.

  She let Wes guide her closer, and she straddled his lap as he took her face in his hands and kissed her. His mouth was gentle at first, sweet, but when she slid her hands into his hair, his lips parted on a groan and all semblance of tenderness drained out of them both.

  She needed to get lost, and he was going to take her there. His tongue tangled with hers, and his big hands gripped her waist, holding her against him as they kissed and kissed. Soon, she found her hips rocking into him, the feel of his erection growing hard against her deliciously erotic.

  He grunted at the slow, dragging contact. “You’re gonna kill me, lawyer girl.”

  “Not the plan,” she said but lost her train of thought when he pressed his teeth into her collarbone and then licked the stinging spot.

  His hand shifted to her breast, cupping her through her T-shirt and sending tendrils of tight desire snaking downward. “Does this position hurt your leg? Being on top?”

  She shivered as his thumb grazed over her nipple. “I’m not even aware I have legs right now.”

  He laughed and tugged off her shirt, tossing it aside, and then went to work unhooking her bra with one hand. “I want you just like this then. I want to look up and see all of you while I make you come.”

  She grinned down at him as she climbed off him to shuck her pants and underwear. “So sure of yourself. Who says you can make me do that?”

  His lips curled into a devilish smirk as he undressed and then stretched out on the bed. “You worried? Maybe I should take out an insurance policy.”

  “And how would one do that?”

  He reached out and grabbed her waist, lifting her onto the bed to straddle him. But before she could sink dow
n onto him, he slid down the mattress and positioned his head between her thighs, putting his mouth right where she was aching the most. The tip of his tongue grazed her cleft, and she gasped.

  “Hold on to the headboard, lawyer girl,” he said wickedly. “This is my version of insurance. Satisfaction guaranteed.”

  “Wes…” She’d never been in this position with a lover. The lamps burning bright and her scarred thigh pressed right next to Wes’s head, but before self-consciousness could overtake her, Wesley gripped her thighs with gentle hands and put his mouth fully on her.

  Every muscle in her body tensed as sensation rocketed through her and the sharp heat of pleasure rushed through her like a drug. Her hands grabbed hold of the headboard. “Oh God.”

  Wes hummed in response, which only made more nerve endings light up, and she closed her eyes. A hard shudder of sensation went through her as Wes schooled her on exactly what he thought of her joke about not having an orgasm. Every stroke felt like worship, every touch like sweet fire. The man knew how to savor a woman. And if she had any doubt about if he was enjoying this, it was answered when she glanced back, taking in the view of his naked body spread out on the bed.

  His muscles were flexing, his hips rocking ever so slightly, and his erection long and thick and proud. Her tongue pressed to the roof of her mouth at the sight. She’d never wanted to touch someone so badly, to make him feel as good as he was making her feel. But Wes didn’t let her get distracted by the view for long. He sucked her clit between his lips, teasing it with his tongue, and before she could even process all that sensation, a shocking orgasm zipped through her. Like a rip cord being pulled.

  She cried out, surprised by the suddenness of it, and her back arched with the tight, tense pulses of her orgasm. Her fingers gripped the bed tight as she rode the throes of pleasure, feeling every bit of Wes’s tongue, lips, and stubble against her skin. The man was feasting on her, and she was happy to be the meal.

  When the intensity eased, she took a deep breath and panted her way down from the high, her knuckles still gripping the headboard like she was hanging off a cliff. Wes shifted beneath her, leaving her straddling his chest. When she opened her eyes, she found his hungry gaze on her, his lips slick and smiling. “Insurance is fun.”

  “Who knew?” She smiled. “I’m thinking of opening my own policy.”

  “Yeah?”

  She shimmied down his body but didn’t stop where he probably expected her to. Instead, she kneeled between his legs and took him in her hand. “Yeah.”

  Heat flared in Wes’s eyes, and the tip of his tongue pressed into his lip. “This wasn’t a tit-for-tat agreement, lawyer girl. You don’t owe me anything in return.”

  “This has nothing to do with tits, chef. Focus.” She ran her thumb along the head of his cock, spreading the drop of fluid there and feeling a kick low and deep in her own body.

  Wes grunted. “Oh, don’t worry. You have my complete and utter focus. Bombs could rain down on the house right now, and I wouldn’t notice.”

  “Well, let’s hope for no bombs.” Then she lowered her head and took him in her mouth.

  The sound he made almost did her in, the utter primal pleasure in it, but the feel of him was even better. She was inexperienced in this art. Her sex life had been pretty straightforward in the past, the encounters so short-lived that she’d never gotten much opportunity to explore beyond basic missionary sex in the dark. But Wes had always stirred new urges in her. She’d wanted to lick every part of him from the beginning. Now she would lick the part of him that would get him to make those sexy, masculine sounds.

  She dragged her hands along his thighs as she caressed him with her tongue, tasting the salty maleness of him and loving the way his thigh muscles flexed beneath her fingers, like it was taking everything he had not to utterly lose it. She wanted to keep making him feel that way. Knowing she could explore and tease him felt freeing. He made her feel so comfortable that this felt like an open invitation to just…enjoy and play and savor.

  She traced her fingertips up his inner thigh and cupped him while she took him to the back of her throat. He made a choked sound, and his big hand planted on the back of her head, gripping her hair. He didn’t put any pressure, but she felt the need in the grip. He was riding his edge.

  So she eased back and took her time, playing a little more and getting herself worked up in the process. Her own desire was pumping through her again as if there’d been no orgasm at all. She shifted, pressing her thighs together tightly, trying to give herself a little relief.

  But Wes’s grip tightened. “Can’t. Bec. Too good. I want you. On top. Let me feel you.”

  The broken commands made her blood run hot. She eased her mouth off him and looked up. His gaze collided with hers, and the impact of how he was looking at her almost knocked her backward. Never had she seen such naked desire directed toward her. It felt raw and real and like a drug.

  He reached out for her, capturing her wrist and guiding her upward to sit astride him. When she smiled down at him, his hands moved to her waist, his thumbs tracing over her hip bones. “You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

  “I think you’re out of your head right now, but thank you.”

  He didn’t smile. “I’m out of my head over you.”

  And then he guided her lips down to his and filled her both with his body and his words.

  I’m out of my head over you.

  She closed her eyes and let herself free fall into the moment.

  But a while after they’d made love, when she was curled up in the crook of Wes’s arm, the words drifted back to her and poked at the dozing monster inside her, the one that she’d tried to hush earlier in the kitchen, the one that breathed the hot, horrible truth down her neck. I’m out of my head over you.

  As Wes gently stroked her scalp with lazy fingertips, a desolate sadness welled up in her, making her want to cry. She couldn’t ignore the facts anymore. This was getting too serious, too real, too dangerous for them both. Part of her wanted to shut down her mind and just get absorbed in how she felt when she was with Wes, to tumble into the way he was looking at her and forget about everything she was dealing with, forget about the consequences. Pretend that fairy tales existed and people were meant to be and that a month of knowing each other wasn’t too short when it was destiny.

  But those were little-girl dreams. Fantasies she’d believed when she was too naive to know better.

  In the real world, a mother could leave her daughter without looking back, the best friend you thought was your prince could fall in love with someone else, and the places you thought were safe and true could become a tragic news story.

  So even though this felt like the fantasy, the thing she’d hoped for, she knew it couldn’t be trusted. This was real life with two real people who had real issues. There would be consequences.

  Wes was coming off a terrible time in his life, a time of instability and drama and danger. Before that, he’d been married to a woman who acted first, thought second. A girl with few boundaries and a wild streak. Rebecca represented the opposite to him, a sanctuary from everything that had torn his life apart. Calm, steady, lawyer girl.

  But she was anything but that. She was selling him and everyone else around her a bill of goods. She was the staid mountain that had swirling magma just beneath the surface, ready to crack and explode, a disaster waiting to happen. She could feel it in every near miss. The mugging. The meltdown during the speech. The tense moments with Steven today.

  She didn’t have it all together. She couldn’t let Wes get deeper into the quagmire with her. He’d be too far from shore by the time he realized they were both drowning. She’d seen the look on his face, heard his words. I’m out of my head over you. He was sinking already. As much as she wished she could give him what he was asking for—a relationship, a commitment, their whole stack of
poker chips placed squarely on their future—she couldn’t.

  She would mess it up. And if she let him get in too deep with her, she’d mess him up, too. Just like she had with Trevor. She’d been selfish then, too. She’d made it about her.

  What she felt. What she was going through. What she needed.

  So even though the thought of starting something real with Wes made her ache down to her very cells with want, she couldn’t go down that road. Wes had hungry demons in his past as well. If she took this too far, let feelings develop into something more rooted and then hurt him, she’d be leading him back to all those temptations.

  Or, maybe he would beat her to the punch. If she opened her heart and really let herself feel those emotions again like she had when she was young—that yearning for love and commitment and romance—and then Wes walked away because he got bored or realized she was just a rebound phase or too screwed up to deal with, she wasn’t sure she’d recover.

  Wes could be her kill shot.

  A normal guy walking away was one thing. But Wes had cut deep tracks into her life already, and it’d only been a month. She couldn’t imagine how entrenched she’d become if she let it go on much longer. He would not be a man easily gotten over.

  When they’d started this thing, she’d thought he’d be an ideal choice to keep things light with. She’d expected a smooth-talking guy, the good-looking chef who knew how to have a good time. That was what she’d signed up for. But she hadn’t expected all the other sides to him. The mentor who had endless patience for troubled kids. The friend who held her after a panic attack and didn’t interrogate her about it. And the man who hadn’t been scared to tell her how he was feeling about what was going on between them.

  He was slipping right past all those guards and gates she’d had in place.

  So the offer he’d made tonight left her with no choice. She was going to have to say goodbye. End this before they both got burned up in the blaze of it.