Hold Me

by Susan Mallery

  “I have experience with a child running away,” Felicia said. “Although Carter was pretending. Still, I’ve never been so afraid in my life. It’s not an experience I want to repeat.”

  “Me, either.”

  “I’ve researched teenaged behavior in an effort to handle future situations, but there doesn’t seem to be any one school of thought. And many of the theories are contradictory.” She shook her head. “This is why I prefer hard sciences. I want a fact to be a fact. Unwavering. People aren’t like gravity.”

  Destiny nodded, thinking that wasn’t an analogy she would have used, but it was actually true.

  “Carter was thirteen when he came to live with us. He was so normal and centered in himself. I respected and admired that. He’s taught me a lot about people and life. Watching Ellie’s brain develop with each new experience has taught me even more about what it means to be human. What I can tell you is loving the child in your life is never wrong. That you’re going to make mistakes. You can’t help it. We’re human. But how you deal with the mistakes makes all the difference.”

  “I’m getting that. I wasn’t there enough for Starr. I thought sending her back to boarding school was the right thing when it was really just the easiest thing for me.” Destiny hesitated, thinking of her conversation with Kipling. “I’m thinking of finding a family therapist.”

  “We did that,” Felicia said.

  “Really?”

  Her friend shrugged. “Psychology is a discipline I’m ambivalent about. There are too many variables. But Gideon had been through so much, and I lacked experience in a traditional family unit, and Carter had lost his mother the year before. We needed help. Therapy brought us together. A caring but disinterested third party aided us in establishing house rules and processes that have helped us create a strong connection. I can give you her name, if you’d like.”

  “I would like that. Thank you.”

  Felicia smiled at her. “Starr is a very sweet girl. I think you’re going to find a closer relationship with her very fulfilling.”

  “I do, too.”

  Later, when Destiny had returned to her office, she found herself feeling lighter. As if the weight of all she carried had been lifted somehow. She supposed, in a way, it had been. Friends were helping her carry the burden. Friends who would offer advice and be there when she needed them.

  Something she’d never had before. And by choice. How foolish, she thought. Look at all she’d been missing.

  * * *

  NICK PASSED KIPLING a bottle of water, then retreated behind the bar. Kipling looked around at the results of his handiwork and had to admit, he’d done a hell of a job. The Man Cave was everything he’d imagined. From the decor choices to the chalkboard menu, it was all male. While the ladies would always be welcome, this was a place where a guy could come with his buddies, get a beer and a burger and watch the game in peace.

  He looked at the other men sitting around the table. He and his business partners had agreed on biweekly meetings for the first couple of months they were open. Then, once things were flowing smoothly, they would change to monthly meetings.

  So far there hadn’t been anything unexpected to discuss. The crowd was steady, the complaints minimal. Nick did a good job managing everything. Kipling glanced at his watch and figured he could be out of here in an hour. Which worked out well for him because he wanted to go see Destiny.

  Things with her and Starr seemed to have settled down. She’d found the name of a therapist she wanted to use, and the first appointments were made. Which meant she wouldn’t be as consumed with her sister. That fit in nicely with his plans. Because he still owed her an orgasm.

  The problem was how to get there. Not the logistics of it. He was confident that when the time came, he could get her over the edge. His issue was more about how to get to that time, so to speak. It wasn’t as if he could simply make an appointment to drop by and do the deed.

  Sam Ridge walked into The Man Cave and strolled over to the table. Everyone greeted him. He sat down, and Nick brought him a soda.

  “You’re the last dog in,” Gideon told him. “Let’s get this meeting started.”

  Kipling leaned back in his seat and waited for the accolades to pour in. The business ran smoothly, the nightly karaoke was a hit, and it had all been his idea. He’d seen a problem, and he’d fixed it. Some days it was good to be him.

  “We have a problem,” Sam said.

  Sam was a retired NFL kicker who worked at a local PR firm in town. He was the financial wizard of the group, so he oversaw the money part of the business.

  “What’s that?” Ford Hendrix asked.

  “Receipts are down.”

  “Not possible,” Kipling said. “We’re busy every night.”

  “Less busy than we were.” Sam flipped open his tablet and turned it to face the others at the large table. “We had a good opening week, but since then business is declining.”

  “We’re not new anymore,” Kipling pointed out. “But I still see a crowd here.”

  Josh Golden, a former champion cyclist and Tour de France winner, shook his head. “It’s not anything we’re doing wrong. It’s Jo.”

  The other men nodded. Kipling frowned. “Who’s Jo?”

  “Jo Trellis, you know, from Jo’s Bar,” Sam said.

  “That woman bar? No way.” Kipling motioned to the room. “We have nothing in common. That place is geared to women. It’s why we all talked about opening The Man Cave. To have a place to go to watch sports. One where we didn’t have to deal with shopping and pink walls.”

  “They’re mauve,” Ford said, then shrugged. “It’s different than pink.”

  “Whatever.” Kipling studied his partners. “You’re serious about this?”

  “It’s a big deal,” Gideon told him. “We should have discussed this with Jo before we opened. Without her support, we’re screwed.”

  “How do you figure?” Kipling asked. “There’s enough business for both of us.”

  “Technically,” Josh said. “But it’s not that simple. We’re all married, and if our wives want us supporting Jo’s Bar instead of The Man Cave, that’s what we’ll do.”

  “But you all own this business. You discussed that with your wives, didn’t you? They agreed?”

  The men exchanged looks.

  “In theory,” Ford told him. “But now that it’s here, Jo’s not happy. Her place is a big part of their lives. She’s a friend. She’s always there when they talk about stuff.”

  Kipling felt as if he’d stepped into an alternate universe. “I don’t get it. Each of you complained there was no place for a guy to go out with his friends in this town. We brainstormed ideas and came up with The Man Cave. We’re equal partners. We put in money. And now you’re telling me you’re scared because Jo isn’t happy?”

  Sam nodded. “That about sums it up.”

  “How is that possible? You used to play football.”

  “What does that have to do with anything?”

  * * *

  BY THE NEXT MORNING, Kipling was still pissed at his partners. They’d had a problem, and he’d fixed it. Now they were whining like little girls. Seriously, they were proving the need for a place men could go and be men. Talk about a bunch of wimps.

  He grumbled the whole way up Mother Bear Road to the site where he, Cassidy and Destiny would have their first practice search.

  Lucky for him, he was by himself in his truck. Cassidy had gone ahead to “get lost” in the woods. The plan was for her to head about a half mile in and wait. He and Destiny would calibrate their equipment and look for her. If they hadn’t found her by eleven-thirty, she would head back in.

  He pulled into the small parking lot by the meadow and saw that Destiny was already there. When he spotted her standing by her car, studying a map, he felt the tension inside him ease.

  Destiny turned as he approached and parked, and when he stepped out of his truck, she smiled at him. That started a whole new kind of
tension heating, but he ignored it. At least for the moment.

  “Hi,” she said as he approached. “Ready for our first test run?”

  She looked good, he thought. More relaxed than she had been the last time he’d seen her.

  “As ready as I can be. How are you?”

  “Better. Starr and I are still figuring out our relationship, but it’s going well.” She tilted her head. “Thank you for helping me. I’m not sure how I would have gotten through it all without you.”

  “Glad I could help.”

  They stared at each other for a second.

  There weren’t any cars on the nearby road. The only sounds came from birds and the gentle breeze rustling the trees. He knew he was up in the mountains, but being here today didn’t bug him. There wasn’t any snow. Plus, having Destiny around seemed to make him feel better about everything.

  His gaze settled on her mouth. It was full and free of makeup or gloss. He could count the pale freckles on her nose. When he inhaled, he caught the scent of soap and maybe a hint of her, without any other distractions.

  He didn’t have a plan beyond finding Cassidy, so he wasn’t expecting to step forward and put his arms around Destiny. Yet when he did, he liked how she felt as she moved against him. He liked the heat of her body and the feel of her back and hips against his hands. She was strong, but soft in that way women had about them.

  He went slow, wanting to give her time to adjust, to pull back if she needed. Because Destiny wasn’t as experienced as he’d thought, and he was determined to make things good for her. But he also had a burning need to kiss her.

  * * *

  DESTINY LET THE feeling of safeness surround her. There was something about being close to Kipling that set everything to rights. Maybe it was his determination to fix things. A characteristic that could have been annoying, but oddly wasn’t. She liked how he took charge. As if he knew what to do next. Because half the time, she was faking it.

  His gaze was intense, almost predatory. But he didn’t move closer to try to touch her beyond holding her. Funny how just being held by him had her stomach churning. Strangled little tingles zipped through her body and made it difficult for her to catch her breath.

  She had her hands on his upper arms. Slowly, she moved them to his broad shoulders. She could feel the muscles shifting under his skin.

  Everything about the moment felt nice. Right. And when he finally lowered his head to press his mouth against hers, she leaned in that last little bit to help things along.

  His lips were warm and firm but still tender. She liked the way they fit together. The way he moved back and forth but didn’t deepen the kiss. She liked her thighs nestling against his, her breasts lightly touching his chest. She felt treasured. A ridiculous word, but there it was.

  She moved her fingers against the cool, silky strands of his hair. He stroked the length of her back, stopping just at her hips. And still he kept their kiss chaste.

  The soft pressure teased as he moved from her mouth to her jaw, then down to her neck. Once there, he nibbled gently. Goose bumps erupted as she shivered slightly. Her breasts began to ache, and she remembered how much she’d enjoyed him touching them before. That night.

  They’d been naked, she thought as he shifted to the sensitive skin just behind her ear. She felt the nibbles again, followed by a quick dart of his tongue. Her breathing increased just a little, and more memories filled her mind.

  How he’d looked. The feel of him on top of her. It had all been really, really nice. When he’d sucked on her nipples—that had been the best.

  Heat and pressure seemed to build inside her. There were unexpected aches. Her breasts swelled and between her thighs, she felt a strange heaviness. Not pain, exactly, but a restlessness that had nothing to do with needing to sing and everything to do with the man who held her.

  “Kipling,” she breathed.

  Before she could tell him what she wanted—not an easy task, considering she had no clue—he kissed her again.

  The second she felt his lips on hers, she parted. She wanted, no, she needed him inside her. Needed the dance of tongue against tongue.

  He didn’t disappoint. He plunged into her mouth as if he required the connection as much as she. She met him stroke for stroke, straining for more. At the same time she leaned against him, wanting their bodies touching everywhere. She arched her hips and found her belly flat against an unexpected hard ridge.

  For a second she was confused, and then she got it. He was aroused.

  She’d done that! She’d given Kipling an erection. Elation joined passion and gave her a thrill of female power. Not sure what to do, she kissed him deeply. At the same time she rotated her hips, pressing her belly hard against him.

  His hands dropped to her hips and held her in place. Fingers dug in, and she heard a low groan. She wasn’t sure if it came from him or her and knew it didn’t matter. The aching, heating, straining became clear in a single word. Desire.

  She wanted Kipling. Wanted him the way they’d been together in the bar. It didn’t matter that the ending had been weird and, well, disappointing. She wanted to do it again. Very much. Which made no sense.

  For a second, she thought about them taking off their clothes right here, on the grass. The sun would be warm on their naked bodies. They could take more time and—

  Kipling drew back. “For someone who was recently a virgin, you do pack a punch.”

  He was breathing hard, and his eyes seemed a little glazed. Destiny was too shocked to notice much more. Because as she watched, he was moving farther away.

  “We’re done?” Done with the delicious kisses and thrilling touching?

  He gave her that sexy smile of his. “We’re here to work. Cassidy’s going to wonder why we’re not looking for her.”

  “Oh.”

  Right. They had a job to do. They were on a well-traveled highway. What was wrong with her? They couldn’t get naked here and do that on the side of the road. What was she thinking?

  She had a bad feeling the problem was a lot about not thinking.

  “You’re right,” she said, turning away to grab her equipment. Only instead of walking, she seemed to stumble a little. As if her legs weren’t working right. And now that she was paying attention, she felt flushed and disoriented. Was she getting the flu?

  She spun back to face Kipling. “It’s you,” she told him. “You did this to me.”

  “Did what?”

  “I don’t know. Something. I’m not right.”

  “You’re right enough for me.” His expression was annoyingly self-satisfied.

  Why would that be? Kipling wasn’t—

  She froze. “You fix things. You think there’s something wrong with me.” More pieces fell into place. “You want me to have an orgasm. You’re trying to change my mind about sex. You want me to like it.”

  The last sentence was more accusation than statement. “You’re drawing me in.” She squared her shoulders. “It’s not going to happen. I’m stronger than any biological urge.”

  He didn’t look the least bit discouraged by her tirade. If anything, his smile widened. “Is that so?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “You’re not at risk?”

  “Not even a little.”

  “Good. Have dinner with me Friday. At my place.” When she would have spoken, he held up his hand. “Not one article of clothing will be removed. You have my word.”

  How disappointing.

  Destiny didn’t know where the thought had come from, but she ignored it. “Fine. I’ll come over for dinner and you’ll see. Now that I know what you’re up to, I’m going to be strong. Like a rock. I have absolutely no interest in sex at all. Not with you. Not with anyone.”

  Kipling walked to the back of his truck and lowered the gate. He handed her a backpack.

  “Famous last words,” he said. “Now let’s go find Cassidy.”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  “TRY THIS,” DESTINY SAID and
played the chord on her guitar. “The rhythm is off, so it’s harder to follow. I asked Dad once why he wrote it that way, and he didn’t have an explanation. I think he was drunk.”

  Starr giggled. “He used to drink a lot. I’ve read some stuff online about what he was like.”

  “Not everything you read about Dad is true,” Destiny told her. “There are a lot of stories that people make up. I guess because it sells magazines or allows the teller to pretend to be close to someone like Jimmy Don Mills. There have been a couple of unauthorized biographies written about him. One of them is mostly accurate, if you want to read that.”

  “I’d like to.”

  Starr tried the chord again, this time singing along with the song.

  “Good,” Destiny murmured.

  She hoped that focusing on the music would prevent her sister from seeing the awfulness of the conversation. No teenager should have to read a biography to learn about her father. Not when the man was still alive and more than capable of spending time with her. But that wasn’t Jimmy Don’s way. He was in Europe for a couple more months, and after that, he was heading to Asia. Places where he could be adored by screaming fans.

  In her head she understood that he needed to feel relevant. And for all she knew, money was an issue. Their father had often lived large. He’d always been generous—she had the trust fund to prove it—and sometimes that generosity got the better of him.

  “And in the night, I remember my denim promises. And think of you,” she sang, joining in with her sister at the end of the song. “Good. You’ve been practicing.”

  Starr smiled. “Plus, I’m learning a lot at camp. The classes help. I’m learning to play the keyboard.”

  “When camp’s over, we can get you an instructor in town,” Destiny offered. “I’m happy to teach you what I know, but I never studied music.”

  Starr rested her arm on her guitar and shook her head. “I don’t understand that. You’re so good. You were nominated for a Grammy when you were, like, eight. You could have had a career a thousand times over. Why didn’t you want to be like your parents?”