by Virna DePaul
All he could think of was the look on Erica’s face if she were to walk in at that moment. The thought filled him with more guilt than the thought of keeping secrets from Sean did.
Brady saved him without meaning to, coming out from the kitchen at just the right time. The brunette turned her attention to him—he was burlier than Riley, and she obviously had a thing for men with muscles. He breathed a quiet sigh of relief, then finished his drink.
“I’ve had a long day,” he said, yawning for effect, rubbing his hands through his hair. “I think I’ll call it a night, if neither of you is opposed.”
“Go on, then,” Sean said. “I’ll handle things here. And then I’ll be getting home to dream about my girl. Love of my life, even though she doesn’t know it yet,” he said loudly, loudly enough that the girls heard him, got his message and pouted prettily, before turning away and heading toward their table.
Sean looked at him and winked.
And at that moment, Riley knew that Sean knew about Erica.
As if truly reading his mind through twin power, Sean said, “Is she the love of your life?”
Riley simply said, “I don’t know. But I’m gonna find out.”
* * *
An hour later, Riley and Erica lay tangled together in what was left of Erica’s bed. Sheets, pillows, blankets—everything was spread around, having been knocked off the bed in the heat of the moment.
“I didn’t expect that tonight,” Erica breathed, gasping for air.
“You should know better by now,” Riley chided her.
“Better than what?”
“Better than to think I could leave you alone for an entire night.” He sat up, stretching, then looked down at her. Even in the state she was in—hair a tangled mess, mascara smudged, skin flushed and sweaty—she looked like a goddess.
“Careful, now. I got rid of the last guy who acted possessive with me.” She winked.
Riley frowned. “Was he aggressive with you? Rude? If so, I’ll take him down in a heartbeat.”
“Nobody’s asking you to take him down,” Erica murmured, stroking his back with the tips of her fingers. “I shouldn’t have brought him up. I’m sorry. It was a joke.”
Riley sighed, but didn’t reply. Of course it was a joke. Since when didn’t he have a sense of humor? He would normally be the first person to laugh off something like that. Rob was ludicrous, no competition whatsoever. It was the way the mention of his name caused Riley’s blood to boil that concerned him.
He stood up, gathering the various bits of bedding which had been strewn around the room, putting it all back onto the bed.
“Are you leaving?” Erica asked, sitting up.
“No, why?” He looked at her, cocking his head to the side. “Do you want me to go?”
“Oh, no!” She blushed from head to toe. “No, not at all. I only assumed you would want to leave.”
“Love, the first night we spent together, we spent the whole night. Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Why would I want to stop now when we don’t even have to keep our voices down. I’m looking forward to making you scream some more.”
“True. But…is that the only reason you want to stay?” She bit her lip. “For sex, I mean?”
Riley joined her on the bed. “Is that what’s bothering you? You don’t think I’m wanting to spend time with you for anything more than sex?”
She shrugged, smoothed her hands over her hair to straighten it somewhat, then gathered a sheet around herself. She was still a little nervous around him, still a little embarrassed to go around naked in front of him. Why, he had no idea, seeing as how her tiny waist, full breasts and round ass were all he ever seemed to think about.
“I like spending time with you,” he said. “Hell, I liked spending time with you before this all started. What else do you think the past year has been about? We already know we like each other. We get on well, we have lots to talk about. We feel the same way on plenty of things. We were already friends. And what we have now? It’s far more than just sex, Erica.” He took one of her hands in his, running his thumb over the backs of her knuckles.
She beamed at him. “You’re far more than sex for me, too, Riley. But the sex is pretty nice.”
He snorted. “Pretty nice?” He began tickling her, making her screech with laughter. Soon, they were kissing. And she was sighing.
And he was holding back from telling her he loved her once again.
Chapter Fourteen
“Where are we going?” she laughed, her hands touching the blindfold.
“Hands off!” Riley warned, swatting her hands away. She laughed again, her imagination running wild at the thought of where he could be taking her.
Several days had passed since she’d asked Riley if she meant more than sex to him, and with each passing day he’d seemed to make an effort to prove that was the case.
Two days ago, he’d taken her to Russian River House for brunch. It was the Bed and Breakfast where Quinn and Conor had stayed when they’d first come to America, and also where Quinn had fallen in love with Lillian Parker, the inn-keeper’s daughter. Somehow, Riley had charmed the rather sour-faced in-keeper into letting him show Erica one of the upstairs rooms, which used to belong to Lilly before she moved in with Quinn. It was a guest room now, a spectacular one with a third-floor balcony decked out with lounge chairs and cut-open barrels holding various herbs. A trellis bordered one end, full of all sorts of flowers: hydrangeas, jasmine azaleas, and gardenias. The velvety blooms and strong floral fragrance in the air made her think they’d stepped into the pages of a fairytale.
The balcony provided gorgeous views of rolling hills, and the golden sun shedding light on the rows of grapes. As beautiful as the view was, Erica’s eyes had kept straying to the big bed inside, and she’d started to wonder if perhaps Riley had brought her to the B&B for an afternoon tryst. As if he’d read her mind, he’d stood behind her, folded his arms around her waist, and rested his chin on her head. “None of that, now. I can see where your mind is headed. But we’re not all about sex, remember?” She’d laughed and nodded. Then he’d leaned down, kissed her check, and whispered in her ear, “But I’m definitely planning on bringing you back here soon, so we can fuck in that bed and make love out on this balcony. Sound good?”
“Sounds like heaven,” she’d whispered.
But he’d still had more surprises in store for her.
Yesterday, he’d sat with her in his cottage and they’d talked about their parents. He’d even pulled out an album, one he’d said Quinn’s girlfriend Lilly had made for all of them, and shown her pictures of his Mam and her family.
Riley’s mother had been lanky as a teenager, with long blonde hair and curvy legs. In one picture, she’d clung to a much older man in a business suit. He wore a proud smile and held a glass of wine, holding it up in mid-toast. His hair was much darker, but the shape of his face, the dimpled chin, and his eyes were unmistakably copies of Riley’s mom.
It was Mr. Phillips, Riley’s grandfather and the man who ran Phillips Vineyard & Winery, one of the biggest wineries in Forrestville. Having worked for the O’Neill brothers for almost a year, and having become good friends with Riley during that time, she knew that Richard Phillips Sr. had disowned their mother after she’d left for Ireland to marry their father. She also knew that Riley and his brothers had known nothing about their mother’s side of the family, only that of their father’s—three generations of Dubliners. That had changed after their mother died and they’d found an old trunk full of pictures and their mother’s diary. Those were the things that had brought them to California. Despite the fact they’d known they wouldn’t be welcomed by their grandfather, they’d been determined to see the place where their mother had been from.
“We would’ve been fine even if our grandfather never wanted anything to do with us,” Riley had said as he’d looked at photos of his mother posing before rows and rows of grapevines. “But in the end, it’
s good we’re starting to get to know him. Slowly but surely.”
She’d simply nodded, aware that their grandfather had finally invited them to his home just a few weeks before Riley had left for Ireland.
“Have you been by to see him since you’ve been back?”
“No,” he’d said, “But we’ll visit before too long. This is my favorite.”
His favorite picture had been of young Maggie O’Neill, definitely before the O’Neill, wearing cornflower blue bell bottoms. It had been taken in 1980, and she’d been sitting on the edge of a rickety bridge with her legs dangling over a narrow creek, holding onto the railing. In her hair were flower barrettes, and on her face was that same, cheeky smile he’d recognize anywhere. “That’s Langley Bridge,” he’d said. “That’s where we spread her ashes, along with some of my dad’s, back before we opened the restaurant.”
She touched his arm. “It’s a beautiful place. And I’m sure it was a beautiful ceremony.”
“It was,” he said softly, his eyes hazy with grief and memories before he looked at her and they’d cleared. He’d set the album aside then, and kissed her, which had led to them making love.
He’d obviously considered the fact they’d had sex that day as some kind of weakness on his part because earlier today, he’d told her he was taking her on a special date and there would be absolutely no sex allowed. Now they were in his car, with her blindfolded, and headed for parts unknown.
She loved this playful side to him, one which she never could have imagined. At best, she’d thought he would be brooding, sexy, funny of course—they weren’t strangers, after all. She’d never expected him to be so lighthearted and silly.
“Can you at least tell me how far away we’re driving?”
“I’ve been driving in circles for twenty minutes, you daft thing.”
Erica scowled at his sarcastic reply. “Come on. Really.”
“Apparently you’re not one for surprises, are you? You must be a load of fun around your birthday, trying to get everybody around you to tell you what they’ve bought for you.”
“That’s not true at all,” she mumbled. It was completely true, but he didn’t need to know it. She folded her arms, leaning her head against the back of the seat.
“Should I have brought a sweater, at least?”
“I have a sweater in the back seat, in case you need it.”
“A ha! So we’re going somewhere outdoors.”
“You’re no fun at all,” he muttered, but she heard his chuckle. She told herself to be satisfied with being surprised, and kept her mouth shut for the rest of the ride. She’d never understood before how it was just as much fun for the person planning a surprise as it was for the person the surprise was for. She didn’t want to ruin it for him.
Erica wondered if that meant she had feelings for him.
It was a ridiculous question. She knew she did. She had for months, but hadn’t wanted to admit it to herself. There was no chance of anything happening between them…or so she’d thought at the time. It had been easier for her to put feelings aside. Safer. Sleeping with him was complicating everything.
Take it slow, she reminded herself. One day at a time. It was all right to care for him. There was nothing wrong with it. She had to take it slow for her own sake, though. While she knew there was part of her which longed to throw caution to the wind and love him, that part couldn’t be indulged. It would only end badly.
The car stopped, surprising her. “We’re here?”
“Nothing gets by you, does it?” The humor in his voice was evident.
Erica giggled. “We might have stopped to get gas, smarty.”
“That’s not the case. Now, stay still while I tend to a few things. Don’t let me see you trying to sneak out, and don’t remove that blindfold.”
“So many rules. So tough and forceful.”
“You’ll get nowhere with flattery,” he joked, then left the car.
It was torture, waiting for him, unable to see what he had going on.
Roughly five minutes passed before Riley returned. “All right. I’m going to help you out now.”
Erica sat up straight, eager. She allowed him to take her arm, leading her from the car.
They stopped, and he stood in front of her. “Okay. Are you ready?”
“I think so?”
He laughed. “Don’t be so worried. This isn’t some reality show challenge. I won’t be leaving you out here all alone.”
“Wow. I hadn’t even considered that. Thanks for freaking me out.”
A chuckle. “All right. I’ll step to the side, and you remove the blindfold. Ready? Three…two…one…go.”
Erica lifted the blindfold, then gasped in delight.
First, there was the picnic laid out on a blanket in the middle of an expanse of emerald grass. The area was surrounded by a grove of trees, creating a perfect, secluded little spot. On the blanket was a spread of bread, cheese, fruit, meats, pastries, and wine.
Beyond the picnic blanket, beyond the grove of trees, was the most breathtaking view Erica could imagine. They stood at the top of a hill, overlooking rolling vineyards. It was awe-inspiring, and the most romantic gesture she could have imagined.
“Riley. I don’t know what to say.”
He grinned slyly. “Please, say you’re hungry. I’ve brought enough food for a half-dozen people.”
“Oh, I’m hungry. You don’t even know. I can seriously throw down.”
“Can you, now?” Riley grinned, taking her by the hand to lead her onto the blanket.
She happily let him lead her. Not only was he playful, he was thoughtful and romantic. There were hidden depths to Riley O’Neill, and Erica intended to find out more about them.
Settling herself in, Erica popped a few grapes into her mouth. “What gave you this idea?” she asked, taking off her shoes to feel the grass on her bare feet.
“It’s a beautiful day, and you’re a beautiful girl. I thought a beautiful place would make it all perfect.”
She blushed, his charm getting to her as it always did. There was something to be said for the “touch of the blarney,” and his family had it in spades.
“This is perfect,” she murmured, stretching out on her side. Riley poured a glass of white wine for the both of them, a crisp Chardonnay, and they toasted each other. She smiled over the rim of her glass, marveling as she always did at how lucky she was to be with him. There were still days when she felt the need to pinch herself. She didn’t, for fear of waking up from her dream.
They spent hours together, eventually stretched out side-by-side on their backs, holding hands, talking about life and watching the clouds go by. She’d always wondered if people actually talked about cloud shapes in real life, the way they did in the movies.
Riley rolled over onto his side, and Erica took a chance by reaching up to stroke his hair. She just wanted to touch him. It was such a joy.
“Your hair looks so red in the sunlight,” she murmured. “Like fire.”
“Your hair looks like spun gold,” he replied. He picked up a strand, inspecting it, before dropping it to run a finger slowly down the side of her face.
She sighed happily, closing her eyes at his touch. When his mouth touched hers, she sighed again.
They sat up, their mouths still joined, hands running over each other’s bodies. His arms held her tight, hands roaming up and down her back, before sliding inside the back of her jeans to fondle her butt. She shivered, heat rapidly spreading between her legs. He knew just how to touch her, just how to drive her wild.
Erica started to unbutton her blouse. Breathing heavily, Riley placed his hands over hers. “Love, I told you. No sex. Today was just about spending time together.”
“We did that. And I loved it. But you don’t have to reassure me, Riley. I’m sorry I was so silly the other night. I know you want me for more than sex. Me, on the other hand? I just want you for your body, so don’t even try to stop me from taking off my clothes.”
She pushed his hands away and he growled, burying his face in her neck.
“Well if it’s just my body you want, how about I help you take off your clothes. That way you can get what you want all the faster.”
“Makes sense,” she said.
When he pulled away, she caressed his cheek, everything in her touch and expression telling him he meant far more to her than sex, and he grinned, obviously seeing that. He slowly unbuttoned the rest of her blouse, then slid his hands over her shoulders and down her arms to remove it. He softly caressed her, moving his hands back up to her shoulders, then down over her chest.
She sighed, closing her eyes and breathing deeply as his hands set her on fire—but just a little at a time, a slow, sensuous burn. He always seemed to pick up on just what she needed, just how she needed it. How was it possible that he already knew her so well?
He slid her bra straps down over her shoulders, kissing every bit of exposed skin as he went. She sighed his name when his tongue made contact with her, then again when his mouth moved to her throat. She closed her eyes, tilting her head back to accept more of him. His kiss stoked the fire he’d built inside her.
He gently lowered her to the ground, until she was on her back. Riley knelt between her legs, smiling gently but with a wicked gleam in his eye. He ran his large, strong hands over Erica’s thighs before removing her jeans. She looked up at him, wanting to capture him and carry the image of him inside her heart forever. This beautiful man, worshiping her body as she’d always dreamed he would.
He lowered himself to the ground to kiss her thighs before moving up to her stomach. He then pulled down her bra cups, exposing her breasts to his greedy mouth. She cried out softly, running her fingers through his thick, red hair while his tongue lavished attention on her sensitive flesh. When he took her nipple between his teeth and bit gown gently, she gasped, arching her back.
“Yes…Riley, yes…” she whispered, writhing beneath him, shivering at the thrill of his touch. “Touch me, please.” She looked down as he kissed her body, gripping his shoulders, digging her fingers into his muscular shoulders. The pleasure was so delicious, she could hardly stand it.
