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A Fix Fling (The Fix Book 5)

Page 6

by Carey Heywood


  “We can be silly together.”

  I pull in a breath to get myself together. “Deal. We can be silly together.”

  “Tell me about the beach.”

  I close my laptop and walk into my kitchen. “I got to watch a yoga class. I never knew there were any that met there. Before the person teaching it left I got her card.”

  “I wouldn’t mind watching you do some yoga.”

  Visions of his powerful body behind me flash across my mind. “I bet I know your favorite pose.”

  “Oh yeah? What do you think it is?”

  Biting back a giggle, I reply, “Downward dog.”

  His bark of laughter on the other end is proof I’m right.

  “How are all the dogs?”

  “Einstein and Myrtle got adopted, which is great news but Nico isn’t doing well. The vet thinks he could be allergic to the food I’ve been giving him and prescribed some new stuff. The food costs a whack so I need to feed him in a crate to make sure non of the other dogs eats it.”

  I shake my head, smiling outright. “Was Myrtle the hound dog?”

  “Good memory. She was sweet, but I’m not going to miss her loud ass bark at every critter that walked by the cabin.”

  My smile turns into a laugh. That dog was loud as hell.

  “Are you going to take any new ones now that two are gone?”

  There’s a pause before he says anything. “I’m not looking but I will if something comes up and no one else will take them.”

  I lean against my counter and press my hand to my chest. The way he has absolutely no willpower over turning away a dog in need is one of the sweetest, sexiest things about him.

  “So, what you’re saying is you’ll have two new ones by next weekend?”

  I can hear his smile through the phone when he says, “We’ll see.”

  Pulling open my fridge, I reach for the bottle of wine I opened yesterday. “Promise to text me pictures once you get them.”

  “You know I will.”

  A knock on my door makes me turn my head. “Yolanda’s here, Malcolm. I have to go.”

  With my phone still to my ear, I cross the small distance to my front door and check my peephole.

  “What are you two doing tonight?”

  There was a time, not that long ago when I would want a guy I was seeing to be jealous. Now, knee deep in a long distance relationship and trying not to go insane, the last thing I would do is make him worry for no reason.

  “Her niece is in a dance competition. We’re going to go cheer our heads off for her.”

  “I should get back to the bar.”

  The bar.

  Where countless females throw themselves at him each night and I know this, because I was one of them.

  I push all negative thoughts out of my mind and remind myself that I trust him. “Is it busy tonight?”

  “Yeah, Dave’s probably cussing me out right now for leaving him to man the bar this long by himself.”

  It’s not hard to picture how packed the place can get since there’s only one other bar in town.

  “I’ll let you go,” I say, as I peer out the peephole.

  Seeing Yolanda, I pull open the door and motion for her to come in.

  “Don’t.”

  I blink confused by Malcolm’s one word reply. “What?”

  “Don’t ever let me go.”

  All at once I want to cry.

  Somehow I manage to answer him. “I won’t.”

  “Good. Tell Yolanda I said hi and text me if you can’t sleep.”

  My chest tightens. “I will. Bye Malcolm.”

  This is the hardest part about being so far away from him; him saying sweet stuff and me not being able to kiss him all over for it.

  When I turn, Yolanda is standing with her arms crossed staring at me. “There’s no crying at a cheer competition.”

  I sniffle. “I’m not crying.”

  She bugs her eyes at me.

  “Malcolm told me to tell you hi.”

  Her face softens. It took maybe five minutes of her meeting him for her to be one hundred and eighty percent team Malcolm.

  “I don’t know why you haven’t bought yourself one of those jumbo parkas with a fur-lined hood and hightailed your ass to snow country yet.”

  My nose wrinkles at her use of the s word.

  Snow.

  “We’ve already gone over this. I can’t live somewhere cold.”

  She shakes her head. “I’m pretty sure that man would have no problem keeping you warm.”

  My brain can’t decide whether to roll my eyes or make my belly flip so instead I groan, “Let’s pretend how cold it gets up there wasn’t an issue. I still don’t know where I can work and it’s not like there are a ton of boutiques in Woodlake. Can you picture me selling snow boots?”

  “Grab your purse. We can figure out something on the way to the convention center.”

  I do as ordered and don’t point out we’ve been trying to solve this riddle every day since Malcolm left. At this point what I need is some magic doorway or toilet or whatever that’ll let me zap myself there and back.

  “Why don’t you work at the bar?”

  In theory, her idea is not awful. It’s not like Malcolm wouldn’t hire me if I asked him to. Problem is, I need something of my own and I’m not sure I could handle him being my boss. Scratch that, I know I couldn’t handle him being my boss. In the bedroom, yes please; out of it, no thank you.

  “I’d feel dependent on him.”

  She doesn’t argue. Our independence is something we have in common.

  “All right. There has to be something you could do there.”

  Logically, she’s right. What I hate is the only clear solution to our problem is me moving. He gets to keep his place, keep his friends, and keep his job.

  “I rent, and he owns. I’m an employee where I work, and he’s the boss. I don’t want to leave and it sucks that there’s no simple answer.”

  She throws out more ideas on our way to the convention center. Problem is, every single one of them involves me leaving. As cool as it is for her to brainstorm with me, it’s pointless. In this fairy tale, I either get the guy or get to work and live in the place I love. Either way, I don’t get to have it all.

  “Why don’t I come out to you?”

  I press my hands to my chest and frown at Malcolm’s face on our video chat. “You’ve come to me the last two times.”

  It’s been months since we set up travel alerts for cheap tickets and the moment fall gave way to winter, Malcolm made a point to come to me instead of the other way around. It’s not fair to him.

  “You hate the cold, and I want you to be happy,” he replies.

  I give him a saucy look. “You’ll just have to keep me warm now won’t you?”

  He wets his lips and God I wish I could taste him right now. “I can do that.”

  My belly heats at the confidence of his words and all the delicious ways he’ll do it.

  With a shift of my hand, I turn my phone so he can see the screen of my laptop. “I’m booking it right now.”

  “When do you land?”

  I squint at the screen. “Three PM on Tuesday. Can you get me from the airport or should I call Fin?”

  He smirks at me.

  “All right, all right. I was only asking in case you already had plans.”

  He tips his head to the side and gives me a look so hot it has me pressing my thighs together. “My woman comes to see me and you think I’m going to have someone else pick her up from the airport?”

  I’m so tackling that man as soon as I see him. “Forget I asked.”

  “That’s right.”

  I reach up to fiddle with my hair. “I can’t wait to see you.”

  “I hated leaving you last month.”

  Hearing him say that makes me want to cry. “I know baby, but now we only have to wait two days to see each other again.”

  He nods. “How long can you stay?”


  I gulp. “A week.”

  He looks disappointed but schools his features quickly. “A week is good.”

  What he doesn’t say is a month would be better. I wish I could have booked a longer stay, but Yolanda needs me and I need to work so I can keep paying my rent.

  The next two days crawl by as I impatiently count the minutes until I’m in his arms again. I spend most of that time packing and unpacking my suitcase with every warm article of clothing I own. Some lacey things also make their way into my suitcase to surprise Malcolm.

  What I don’t pack is a heavy winter coat, mainly because I don’t own one that will do any good against a New Hampshire winter. Malcolm made me promise not to try and buy one, and said he’d meet me at the airport with one. Same thing goes for snow boots.

  What I have stocked up on are a couple cute knit hats, scarves, and gloves.

  I’m going through my bags for the hundredth time when my phone rings. A glance at the display tells me it’s Yolanda.

  “Hey Yolo.”

  “I hate that nickname.”

  I zip my bag closed. “I know.”

  She laughs. “I’m here. I was going to offer to come up and help carry your stuff down. Now I’m just going to sit here in my air conditioning and watch you sweat.”

  Harsh. “I guess I deserve that.”

  The high is in the nineties as I lug my bags down the stairs. When I reach her car, I’m surprised to see her waiting by her open trunk. “I thought you were going to wait in the car.”

  She moves toward me and takes my bigger suitcase. “I decided to take pity on you.”

  Once my bags are in her trunk she slams the lid shut. “Ready to go see your man?”

  Hell yeah.

  As I walk off my plane in New Hampshire, a cold blast of air hits me and I shiver. Rubbing my arm for warmth with my free hand, I remind myself Malcolm is worth a million winters.

  He’s waiting for me just past security and the kiss hello that he gives me easily erases any lingering chill that plagued me.

  He moves his lips from mine to the spot under my ear. “I missed you.”

  I shiver again and this time it has nothing to do with the temperature. “I missed you too.”

  He pulls away, slipping my purse off my shoulder. His arms circle me again, this time settling a thick puffy winter coat around me. I feed my hands through the sleeves as he zips me up.

  It’s the nicest coat I’ve ever owned and it’s a perfect fit. “I love it. Thank you.”

  “It’s the least I could do to thank you for coming.”

  Reaching up to cup his handsome face, I shake my head. “You can thank me some more when we get back to your place.”

  His gaze goes molten and my belly flips with anticipation.

  He surprises me by taking me to the cabin, and not the bar. “We’re not going to the Moose?”

  He motions for me to head inside silently informing me he’ll take care of my carry on and suitcase. “I’ll explain inside.”

  Curious, and not wanting to spend more time outside than I have to, I dash to the front door and open it.

  Six dogs of various breeds and ages happily greet me. Jack and Morgan are the only ones I’ve met in person, but he’s sent me pictures and introduced his new foster dogs to me over video chat. I’m busy petting them and the newcomers when Malcolm joins me.

  When a lab becomes overly affectionate and almost knocks me off of my feet, he says, “Racy, down.”

  She instantly obeys. “Good girl.”

  He rewards her with pets to the head and quickly greets the rest of his furry brood with pats and ear scratches as well.

  Their tails happily thump against the floor.

  I can’t blame them, I love it when he pets me too. “We’re inside.”

  One side of his mouth tips up in amusement at my impatience. “Take off your coat and let me get you a drink first.”

  Squinting at him, because he’s making me wait, I pull off my fabulous new coat and hang it on one of the hooks by his door as he does the same. Together, we walk toward the kitchen. Halfway there, I rock to a halt as the view out his back window comes into sight. “Wow.”

  He shifts from beside me to behind me, his arms wrapping around my middle. “Pretty, isn’t it?”

  Pretty? That word doesn’t do justice to the snow-capped peak of Woodlake Mountain.

  Stunning, maybe.

  Gorgeous, definitely.

  “It looks like a painting.”

  He kisses my neck. “A painting could never do justice to it.”

  I lean against him, letting the warmth of his body seep into me. “You’re right.”

  He propels us forward. “Now, let’s get you something to drink.”

  In his kitchen, I watch as he fills a wine glass with one of my favorite wines.

  He doesn’t miss my smile. “What?”

  I move toward him and accept my glass. “You’re wonderful.”

  He dips his head to press a sweet kiss to my lips. “Let’s talk. I have an idea to run past you.”

  Normally, someone saying let’s talk would instantly put me on edge. With Malcolm, his words only intrigue me.

  The dogs follow us to his den, Racy claiming a spot by my feet.

  He motions to her. “They do that to show they trust you.”

  I reach down to scratch behind her ear. “Smart girl.”

  He laughs and moves to sit beside me. “Yes, she is.”

  I move my hand to his leg and give it a squeeze. “Alright, spill.”

  “What if we split our time between New Hampshire and Texas?”

  I blink at him. “What?”

  He takes both of my hands in his, shifting his body toward mine as I mirror him. “We can spend summer and fall in New Hampshire and winter and spring in Texas.”

  My mouth opens and closes as I consider his idea. “What will I do for work when I’m here, and what will you do for work in Texas?”

  He shrugs. “We can figure that out later.”

  I stare at him. “We’ll still have bills to pay.”

  He tips his head toward my wine glass. I hold his gaze as I take a big swig. Since it is my favorite wine, Malcolm grins at me when I take one more gulp before I set my glass down.

  “I’ve thought about that as well. The bar will cover our expenses when we’re here, and if Yolanda agrees to let you work seasonally, your pay and whatever job I get there will cover us when we’re in Texas. Also, since the vacation crowd dies down when summer is over maybe we can buy a beach house like the one Finley and Noah got.”

  A beach house?

  “I can’t afford a beach house.”

  “We could afford a mid-sized one if we rented it out in the summer.”

  Reaching for my wine, I think over the math in my head while I take another drink. Malcolm owns this cabin outright and only has a small improvement loan on the building the bar and his loft are in. He never went into specifics but it’s no secret the bar pulls in good money in the summertime.

  Splitting our time in two states? “Do you think it could work?”

  He takes my glass and sets it on the coffee table before pulling me into his lap. “Anything is better than seeing you for a week at a time every other month.”

  He is not lying. “But what about the dogs?”

  His mouth moves to my neck where he peppers it with open mouth kisses as he talks. “Jack and Morgan will come with us and we’ll find a group to foster for in Texas. The one that I work with here will be fine as long as they know which months out of the year I’m not around.”

  “Oh my God,” I say, and it could be for his idea or the effect his kisses has on me.

  I shift in his arms, moving to straddle him and his mouth covers mine. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

  My fingers move to the buttons of his flannel. “Are we alone in the cabin?”

  “Tim is staying at the loft this week so we have the place all to ourselves.”

  I pus
h his shirt off over his broad shoulders before my hands move to his belt. “Good.”

  His hands join the fun, and we break our kiss as he tugs my sweater off. Kissing as we undress, our hands become frantic with desire.

  “I need you inside me.”

  He lifts me off his lap and sets me on my feet in front of him. As I stand there, he makes short work of my jeans and underwear. Before I can return the favor, he leans forward.

  “Let me taste you first.”

  My legs almost buckle when his mouth is on me, his tongue lapping at the bud of my sex. Threading my fingers in his soft hair I moan his name. He pushes my legs further apart to allow him better access to my core.

  I’m seconds away from my release when Racy’s cool wet nose touches my ass. “Ahhhhh.”

  Launching myself forward, away from her nose, I tackle Malcolm’s face with my vagina.

  Clutching the back of his sofa, my eyes snap down to meet his. Trapped, he blinks up at me and mumbles something against me.

  Scrambling off of him, I ask, “Are you okay?”

  His eyes crinkle with humor as he nods, and I cover my face to laugh. Thankfully, it doesn’t look like I injured him.

  As soon as I can manage, I explain, “Someone’s, I think maybe Racy’s, nose touched my butt.”

  He shakes his head and looks at them before ordering, “Go lie down.”

  Six dogs get up and move to the jumble of dog beds arranged against the wall by the fireplace.

  “Should we go to your room, and maybe shut the door?”

  He scoops me up into his arms.

  Glancing at the dogs, he says, “Stay,” before carrying me to his bed.

  There, he gently sets me down, spreads my legs, and resumes his earlier ministrations. Only once I’ve come undone does he lift his head. Crawling up the bed, he covers me and lowers his mouth to mine. I lick at his lips, tasting myself on them.

  Then, with my hands to his shoulders, I push him onto his back. “My turn.”

  I lick and kiss my way down his body. With his help, his jeans and boxers quickly find a new home on the floor. Kneeling beside him on the bed, I take a moment to run my eyes over every delectable inch of him. Before I met Malcolm, I was empty, drifting through my days trying to convince myself and everyone around me that I was fine.

  I wasn’t.

  He filled me, physically, and emotionally. Without saying a word, his presence alone can soothe me, excite me, and entice me. My hands move across his skin, reveling in the strength of his corded muscles. My lips follow the path my hands travel. I kiss, lick, and pleasure him with my mouth.

 

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