Real Kind of Love (Books & Brews Series Book 1)

by Sara Rider

  Her pulse kicked up like she was pounding her way through the last hundred meters of a marathon. His hand hovered near the free N and she wanted to scream. He pulled back and squinted, which drew attention to the thin lines crinkling around his eyes.

  Come on. There’s a nice, open R waiting for you on the other side of the board… Shit.

  He laid down two little tiles and broke her heart. She didn’t even bother to hide her scowl. “Can? That’s not even an interesting word. You had the chance to find out my dream ride if you’d gone with car, but now all you’ll learn is that my favorite soup is creamy tomato.”

  “Sounds like you’re feeling the pressure,” he said as he smugly added six points to his tally. “And for the record, mine’s chicken noodle.”

  “Not at all.” Lies. She had no idea what to do now. She scanned the board and searched vainly for another N. They’d been neck and neck for most of the game and she did not want to lose now. She switched the M and the G on her rack, hoping for a flicker of inspiration.

  She got a heck of a lot more than she bargained for.

  He’d left the C wide open. There was enough room to unload all her tiles. The question was, did she have the guts? She picked up the O, steeled her breath, and set it down on the board. She didn’t look at Jake’s face, but she could sense the moment he figured out what she was spelling.

  She cleared her throat, flipped her tile rack over to show it was empty and took hold of the pen. “Seventy-two points. Try to beat that.”

  “Orgasmic?”

  She knew the moment her eyes met his, there would be a spark, but this felt like she’d been set on fire from the inside out. Every inch of her skin prickled.

  “We’re launching an ‘Oh God Yes’ Oat Stout this fall. I think you’ll like it.”

  Disappointment welled in her throat, but she swallowed it back. What did she expect? That he was going to tell her he preferred to come with a woman’s ankles draped over his shoulders, or that tying someone up and breaking out the whips got his crank turning? That thought sent a small brush of wind over the embers still smoldering inside her. “I’m a creature of habit. You’ll have a hard time convincing me to drink anything but a lager.”

  “I’m sure I could coax you into trying some new things.”

  “Maybe, but losing’s not one of them. Ready to admit defeat?”

  “Yep, there’s nothing I can do with a J and a P. Good job.”

  He held out his hand to shake. An electric shock passed between them when his warm palm touched hers, crackling all the way down her spine. She swallowed back the mix of anxiety and anticipation bubbling in her throat and forced herself to meet his eyes. The intense way he was looking at her made her wonder if he hadn’t felt it, too. Or maybe he was just fascinated by the way her left eye was twitching uncontrollably.

  They weren’t even twenty-four hours into this trip, she reminded herself. There were still six more days to go. This was not the time to get weird. “Thanks. Um, it’s a little late. I think I’m going to turn in soon. Do you want to shower first?”

  “Go ahead. Consider it your prize for winning. I’ll clean this up.”

  She scurried off to the bathroom at the back of the cabin. Like the rest of the place, the room was small, but well maintained with luxurious touches. The whitewashed walls and navy accents that carried throughout all the rooms gave it a soothing coastal vibe. Open wood shelves were lined with plush blue towels and rich smelling hand soaps, which only added to the feeling that the rental was designed mainly for couples on a romantic getaway.

  Knowing Jake might want a chance to rinse off too, she kept her shower as short as possible in case the hot water was limited. She toweled herself dry, threw on her flannel pajamas, and headed to the bedroom to steal some extra linens from the closet so she could set herself up on the living room couch for the night.

  As soon as she opened the door, she saw a surprise waiting for her on the bed and cursed under her breath.

  She should have known her family wouldn’t let her get through one day without meddling. She picked up the industrial-sized box of extra-large condoms and read the attached note. Don’t use them all in one night. Love C & C. If she didn’t love her sisters so much, she’d be picking out tombstones and writing their eulogies. Instead of plotting a murder, she tucked the box beneath the sheets she’d taken from the closet and resolved to talk to her sisters about boundaries in the morning. Not that it would do any good.

  In her rush to hide the evidence, Clem stepped into the hallway and collided with Jake. She yelped and the box of condoms popped out of her hands. Horror speared her stomach as the little blue packages of condoms scattered everywhere like an exploding can of snakes.

  “Oh my god!” She sank to her knees and tried to scoop up as many of the condoms as she could before Jake saw, but it was futile. He leaned over, picked up a strip, and furrowed his eyebrows.

  “You going to tell me what’s going on?”

  9

  Not for the first time, Jake was grateful for his ability to bullshit his way out of any situation, no matter how awkward. And seeing Clem looking all sweet and innocent with her hair slicked back off her face while holding a box of condoms was about as awkward as it got. At least he didn’t let it show because no matter how weird or surreal this whole fake relationship thing was, he was determined not to let anything ruin her week.

  She bit her lip in the way that had been driving him wild since the minute he’d stepped into her SUV this morning. “My sisters must have snuck in here while we were on the boat. Did I mention they have no concept of boundaries?”

  “Hmm. Magnum XL? I guess I should be grateful your sisters think highly of me.”

  Clem snatched the strip from his hands and shoved in back in the cardboard box. “Can we pretend this never happened?”

  “Sure. Those for me, too?” He tugged at the sheets in her hand.

  “No. You’re taking the bedroom. I’ll sleep on the couch.”

  He crossed his arms and frowned. “You’re not sleeping on the couch.”

  She shook her head. “It’s the twenty-first century. Women can be just as chivalrous as men. You’re doing me a favor, so the least I can do is give you the more comfortable bed.”

  She might be shy and wearing flannel pajamas covered with little R2-D2 images, but there was no question she was capable of following through on her convictions. “This isn’t about my male ego. The couch doesn’t fold out.”

  She straightened her back. “That’s fine. I can tough it out.”

  He scrubbed his hand along his jaw. “No.”

  “No?”

  “No. Besides the fact there’s no way anyone over the age of five could comfortably sleep on that couch, what happens if your family decides to wake you up early in the morning? There are huge windows on every wall of the living room and not a shred of privacy. You already said they’re suspicious. If we’re going to sell ourselves as a couple on a romantic vacation, separate beds isn’t going to cut it.”

  He watched her eyes widen as the reality of their situation hit her like a snowstorm in summer. “Oh crap.”

  “It’s alright. I’ll sleep on the floor.”

  Instead of reassuring her, his offer seemed to light a fire behind those big green eyes. “No you won’t. I already told you you’re taking the bed. I’ll take the floor.”

  “Not a chance. This is supposed to be your vacation.”

  “You do realize you’re arguing with someone so stubborn I didn’t shower for an entire week when I was nine because I didn’t want to give my sisters a chance to steal the new doll Grandma Jean gave me for my birthday.”

  “My parents forced me to sit at the dinner table for ten hours straight after I refused to eat my green beans when I was eleven. They only gave up because I had to go to school in the morning.”

  “Fine.” She pulled back the bedspread from the mattress and dumped the spare linens right in the middle.

  “What
are you doing?”

  “Improvising.” She grabbed another couple pillows from the linen closet and fluffed them into a giant wall diving the two sides of the bed. “As long as you don’t snore, this should work fine. We can both be comfortable this way.”

  Fine was not the word he would use to describe this situation. The last twenty-four hours had unlocked a connection between them. A hidden attraction he was pretty sure was mutual. He wasn’t some creep who couldn’t control himself around a beautiful woman, but it would be a hell of a lot easier to do with more than just a few inches of distance between them. “Yeah, sure. I’m going to grab a shower before turning in.”

  He took his time in the shower, hoping she’d be asleep before he returned. He’d been surprised to find out Clem hadn’t been exaggerating about her family’s energy level. He assumed he’d be here to show up for a campfire or two, and ward off a few questions about her single status. Instead, he’d been grilled about every detail of his life after Clem left to put her nieces to bed. Not just about his work, but his education, his wealth, his hobbies, and his relationship to Clem. The questions were invasive, but not mean-spirited. It was almost like they couldn’t imagine not sharing every bit of information with each other. In exchange, he’d been told the story of how Clem’s parents met at an old drive-in movie theatre, her Gran’s job painting logos on trains in the fifties, Clover’s extreme phobia of rats, and the status of Poppy’s poops today.

  He hadn’t known a baby could have green poops. He’d been happier in his ignorance.

  Growing up a Donovan, family dinners were terse and formal, and always catered by local chefs. He hadn’t known it was possible for a family to laugh more than they talked. To get together on a moment’s notice like every day was Thanksgiving. To enjoy each other. It was kind of nice. But he could also see why it would be suffocating to someone like Clem. He could feel the heaviness inside her when they’d starting prying into his family history. If this weren’t a fake relationship, he’d probably have alarm bells ringing louder than a tornado warning in his head. Guys like Mike and Andrew might thrive in that kind of chaos, but he was pretty damn sure that wasn’t the kind of man Clem was looking for.

  He rinsed the shampoo from his hair and tried not to think about how long it might have been since Clem had been with a man. Or imagine her sinking to her knees and calling him Master in that sultry voice of hers. It was going to be hard enough to keep the blood from rushing to his cock the minute he lay down next to her in that bed, and there was no point in adding fuel to the fire. If the walls in this place weren’t so thin, he’d use his hand to take the edge off. Instead, he shut off the tap, dried himself, and threw on a T-shirt and sweats.

  Somehow it didn’t surprise him that she was sneaking in another chapter when he crept back into the bedroom. The soft glow from her tablet illuminated her pretty face against the darkness. He’d been so mesmerized with the way her full lips uttered every word while she read earlier, it was almost a shame that she’d switched the device off as soon as he pulled back his side of the covers.

  “You don’t have to stop because of me.”

  “It’s okay. I’m pretty tired.”

  He climbed onto his side of the bed, rested his head against the pillow, and closed his eyes, only to open them again a second later.

  She pulled down the pillow acting as a barrier between their heads. “Thank you for not being weird about this.”

  “Any man with half a brain would trade his right arm to share a bed with you. Me included.”

  “Um, you’re joking, right?”

  “No.”

  Her breath came out in a rush, and it took all his self-control not to close the few inches of distance between them and capture her lips with his.

  “Goodnight, Clem.”

  “’Night.”

  Jake wasn’t sure what time it was when he woke, but the knee wedged between his legs belonged unmistakably to Clementine. Same with the clean floral scent of her hair. So much for her pillow barrier. She’d just rolled right over the top of it.

  She sighed, stretched her body, then jackknifed back into a fetal position. He trapped her leg between his thighs before her knee connected with his balls, startling her awake. She blinked twice. “Did you hear something?”

  Her voice was jittery. No surprise given what she’d experienced a few short nights ago.

  “Probably just the wind.”

  A long paused followed. “So nothing’s wrong?” Her breath stroked his jaw with each word, a visceral reminder of just how long it had been since he’d slept next to a woman.

  “Other than the fact your feet are ice cold? No.” He’d hoped to defuse the tension, but his pulse thrummed harder in his chest.

  “Oh. Then why are we so…close?”

  The husky tone of her voice made his cock swell with desire. “It turns out you’re a nighttime cuddler.”

  He felt the awareness reach every inch of her body. She shifted closer to him, pressing into his growing erection. “Is that a problem?”

  There was no shyness. Just invitation. And it was the sexiest thing he’d ever heard. “No.”

  She tilted toward him, brushing her lips against his and he didn’t do one fucking thing to stop her.

  “Are you kissing Jake, Aunty Clem?”

  “Does that mean you’re our uncle now?”

  Clem shot backward before he could respond to the kiss while he scrambled to his feet. “Holy shit! What are you doing here?”

  The two blond twins stood at the edge of the bed, smiling like creepy little dolls from a horror movie that came to life in the darkness to strangle you. “That’s a bathroom word, Aunty Clem.”

  “Sometimes bathroom words are appropriate, Millie,” Clem said, pulling the sheets up around her despite the fact she was dressed in head-to-toe flannel. It amazed Jake she could tell the two girls apart in this moment. “Like right now. Does anyone know you’re here?”

  Identical grins split across their faces. “We snuck out,” the other one—Ellie—said.

  “Oh, sweetie. You can’t do that. It’s dangerous. You could have gotten lost.”

  “But we wanted to have a sleepover.” Genuine or faked, the tremble in the little girl’s voice was a stealth weapon designed to pierce the human heart.

  “How did you even get in here?”

  “We watched mommy punch in the numbers on the door lock when she was hiding your big box of candy.”

  “Can we have some candy, Aunty Clem?”

  “Come on, I’ll walk you back,” Jake said, praying he wouldn’t need to explain the difference between condoms and candy.

  Getting interrupted by the twins a second before he and Clem crossed an irreversible line was the slap in the face he needed. Kissing her would only lead to the obliteration of more lines. Clem was too sweet to get mixed up with someone like him. Someone who had nothing left to give a woman. Someone who’d only ever known how to take, no matter how much it hurt another person.

  This was supposed to be his chance to prove to himself he wasn’t a selfish asshole, and he hadn’t even lasted twenty-four hours.

  The sniffling and tears that burst out of the twins was another punch to the gut. “But…but…but we wanted a sleepover.”

  Clem looked up at him with regret, but he’d already gathered up his pillow, knowing this outcome was inevitable. “It’s okay. I’ll make do.”

  She sighed. “Fine, I’m going to text your mom and if she says yes, you can stay. But you have to promise not to sneak out ever again.”

  He didn’t blame her for giving in to her nieces’ demand. He could tell from the look on her face she was incapable of saying no to them. The problem was, he was pretty sure his expression right now said the same thing about her.

  10

  A rock with an overgrown layer of fungus would’ve made a better bed than the flimsy piece of wicker furniture Jake slept on last night. He’d pulled up one of the living room chairs to give his long le
gs somewhere to go, but he’d woken up stiff and sore. He was pretty sure he’d still had a more relaxing sleep than Clem, though.

  Ellie and Millie were cute but they had a devil’s streak in them. He’d heard them jumping up and down on the bed while Clem begged them to be careful as he’d drifted off to sleep. At least their mischievousness came with an impeccable sense of timing. No matter how shitty his neck felt this morning, it was better than waking up with the emotional hangover from crossing the line with Clem. Her lips had been so soft, so sweet, so damn inviting. There’s no way he could have resisted what she was offering.

  He got dressed in the bathroom and poked his head inside the bedroom door, catching the pair attempting to braid Clem’s hair while she was sleeping facedown on the mattress. He crooked his finger and the twins came running. “How about I walk you two back to your mom and dad and let your aunt get some rest, okay?”

  “Mom’s going to be maaaad,” Ellie—or at least the one he thought was Ellie—said with just enough inflection for him to realize this wasn’t their first nighttime escape.

  “I bet she’ll be even more mad if you don’t come back for breakfast.”

  “Grammy Jean promised to sneak us some Lucky Charms this morning,” Millie said.

  Ellie twisted her lips. The two stared at each other for a few silent seconds like they were communicating by telepathy, then simultaneously turned toward him and grabbed his hands. Christ, he’d watched horror movies less creepy than these two kids.

  A few minutes later, he had the girls safely back with their mom, who couldn’t seem to decide if she wanted to scream at them or wrap them in a hug, and ended up doing both at the same time.

  It was only about eight in the morning, but the Cox family was out in full force again. Even though he was pretty sure the cabin next door had a functioning kitchen, they were cooking outside, filling the crisp morning air with the irresistible scent of bacon, eggs and coffee.

  Andrew and Mike were manning the bacon, which they were grilling on a cast iron skillet over the campfire. Everyone else was maintaining a healthy distance from the splatter zone, but the guys were flipping the strips while shirtless, seemingly oblivious to the angry little red burns marring their skin. Jake considered himself pretty tough—a necessary quality for someone owning a brewery—but he was starting to wonder if Clem’s brothers-in-law weren’t born without pain receptors. Or brains.