40-Love (There's Something About Marysburg Book 2)

by Olivia Dade

  “Interesting.” Tess added a bottle of water to the backpack. “I’m pretty sure that’s not what you’ll be saying once we’re alone, Ms. Give-Me-All-the-Details-the-More-Salacious-the-Better-and-Maybe-Draw-Some-Stick-Figures-Too-So-I-Can-Picture-Everything-More-Clearly Cantner.”

  “Tattletale.” Her friend flapped a hand in the direction of the closet. “Pack, woman.”

  So Tess did, throwing everything else into her backpack with much less care than usual while Lucas and Belle sat on the edges of the beds and watched. As soon as she changed her shirt in the bathroom, all three hurried out of the room, the door swinging shut behind them with a bang that made Tess wince.

  Despite both women’s protests, Lucas carried their backpacks on one shoulder. On his other side, he promptly reclaimed Tess’s hand, squeezing it gently whenever she glanced his way. Which she did, often. Too often.

  Together, they hustled to the dock, fast enough that Tess and Belle became breathless.

  Then…silence. They’d arrived with five minutes to spare, and the woman who coordinated the ferry’s arrivals and departures was off talking to someone on her cell a few feet away. No other guests seemed to be leaving on this particular ferry, maybe because they’d chosen later activities and flights home.

  “I’m going to wait”—Belle reclaimed her backpack and pointed to a weathered wooden bench—“over there. Have fun, but try not to get arrested for public indecency before the ferry arrives, okay?”

  With a shake of her head, Tess watched her friend’s retreat. Only to discover she suddenly had no idea what to say to Lucas. See you later, and thanks for all the great sex seemed flippant. Hope you didn’t hurt your wrist rubbing my clit with such talented industriousness last night seemed a bit too graphic for an early-morning conversation. Holy Christ, I think I could fall in love with you way too easily seemed…well, ill-advised at best.

  Desperate, she turned toward the water instead of him.

  The ocean, sparkling and aquamarine, lapped against the dock’s pilings and tumbled in gentle waves onto the white sands of the shore. It was beautiful and pristine, and a good place to fix her gaze while she figured out what to say.

  After setting her backpack on the dock, his free hand squeezing hers the whole time, he broke the silence. “We should exchange information.”

  Oh, yeah. At the moment, she had no way of contacting him except through the hotel, and he had no way of contacting her at all once she left.

  The realization struck home. They’d known each other for a total of five days. Five. Days. Yet somehow they were already entangled, and—damn her doubts—she ached for even more ties binding him to her.

  For now, acquiring his contact information would have to suffice.

  “I always have a stash of pens and sticky notes in my purse, just in case.” She unzipped the middle compartment. “Do you want me to write down everything for you, instead of dictating it?”

  He paused, his brows drawn together, before directing an odd, amused glance her way. “Sure. I can scrawl my contact information for you too, if you have an extra pen.”

  He let her hand go, and she dug into the depths of her purse and emerged with the supplies they needed. A block of sticky notes for him, another for her, and two pens. They both used the dock’s rail as a writing surface.

  She bit her lip and looked up. “I gave you my cell number and my e-mail address.”

  “I did the same.” He carefully peeled the note from her pad and passed her the one he’d written. “There you go.”

  After dropping her pens and sticky-note blocks back into the middle compartment of her purse, she tucked his information within the same zippered side pocket where she stored all essentials. Tampons. Her lip balm. Her lucky piece of jade. And now him.

  He folded her sticky note into a small, neat square and deposited it deep within the pocket of his athletic shorts, then looked at her.

  He was still smiling. “You realize we could have just used our cell phones for all that.”

  “Oh.” Damn, she was old. “Yeah, but electronics malfunction or go missing. I don’t want to risk losing your information.”

  That teasing smile died, his eyes turning soft and warm as he gazed at her. “Same here. But let me text you my information, just in case.”

  They exchanged information the modern way too, and once he was safely stored in her contacts list and he’d saved her data in his own cell, he took her hand again.

  “So…” His fingers, warm and strong, played with hers as she watched. “Are you free tonight?”

  She’d known. She’d known. Only a fool would consider his actions that morning—the near-constant physical contact, his company on the dock, his flirting, his request for her contact information—the polite gestures of a man ready to scrape off an unwanted one-night stand. But the confirmation of his continued interest steadied her anyway.

  In the distance, a horn tooted. The small ferry boat, nearing the dock.

  “Belle and I will be gone most of the day, and we have dinner reservations, but after that…” She lifted a shoulder. Smiled at him. “I’m available.”

  The furrows in his forehead eased. “Good.”

  The dock manager was exchanging shouted greetings with the captain of the ferry, and Belle had risen to her feet and stepped closer to the boarding area of the dock. The ferry hadn’t officially arrived yet, though, so Tess didn’t move.

  “Do you want me to text you when I get back to the hotel tonight?” she asked.

  He inclined his head. “Yeah. And if you want to spend the night, pack a bag.”

  “Is that what you want?”

  It was a challenge, a request for him to declare himself. Also a sign of her lingering worries, whether he knew it or not.

  He didn’t hesitate before bending forward, his bristly cheek a tantalizing scrape against her skin. “I want back inside you,” he whispered into her ear. “I want your taste on my tongue. I want to watch you come so hard around my cock you can’t breathe, and I want to do that as often as possible.”

  Fuck, she couldn’t breathe now. “None of that requires spending the night.”

  His head raised an inch, and his eyes closed for a moment. When he reopened them, they were soft. Vulnerable enough to disorient her. “I want to reach out and touch your hair on my pillow, Tess. I want to see you as soon as I open my eyes in the morning.”

  Yes, she could definitely fall in love with him way too easily.

  “Okay.” She could barely hear her own words over the sound of her tripping heart. “I’ll spend the night.”

  The dock shuddered as the ferry bumped against the tire-protected pilings, and she rose up on tiptoe. He met her halfway, his mouth hard and insistent against hers. No teasing. No finesse. Just desperation and need.

  Dimly, she could hear conversation and laughter as several employees debarked from the ferry and began the short trek to the resort. But her sole focus was on the man clutching her tight and claiming her tongue like a battle prize.

  Another blast of the horn, this one a warning.

  “Time to board!” the dock manager called.

  Belle had already climbed onto the ferry’s deck, and there was no one else traveling to the mainland on this particular trip.

  The dock manager was speaking to Tess.

  It was time to leave.

  With one last rub of her lips against his, Tess ended the kiss, and Lucas didn’t fight it. He cupped her face in both hands and looked at her, his gaze intent.

  Whatever he saw seemed to satisfy him.

  His thumbs stroked her cheeks. “Please call or text me when you get back from dinner. If I’m in the middle of a lesson, leave a message, älskling. I’ll respond as soon as I can.”

  She nodded, and he nuzzled his nose against hers.

  Then he let her go and hoisted her backpack. “Let me get this on board for you.”

  He deposited it in the storage area on the ferry and held her arm as she steppe
d onto the swaying deck. One last squeeze, and he retreated back onto the dock, his mouth pressed tight.

  The dock manager unlooped the ferry’s ropes from around the pilings and tossed them aboard, and the boat began to drift away from the tires. Another toot of the horn to mark their departure, and the engine thrummed to life, vibrating the deck under her feet.

  She wiggled her fingers in a wave. He returned the gesture, and then patted his pocket, as if checking to make sure her note was still there.

  With a jerk, the boat began its journey to the mainland.

  “I’ll text you,” she called out, the wind whipping her words away almost before she could utter them.

  His deep voice, calm with certainty, carried over the widening water between them.

  “That’s good,” he said, his fists on his hips and his eyes on her. “Because I have plans for you, Tess Dunn.”

  Seventeen

  After one of his early-afternoon lessons, Lucas checked his phone again, as he’d been doing all day. A ridiculous tic, and he knew it. Tess wouldn’t return to the island for hours yet, and during her busy day on the mainland, she wouldn’t be thinking of him, much less texting him.

  This time, though, his foolishness had been rewarded. Tess had left a voicemail at some point during the lesson. Not a text. Which was another generational marker, he figured, and one he appreciated.

  He wanted to hear her voice. Missed her voice.

  More foolishness.

  Sadly, when he played the message, covering his other ear with his palm to limit background noise, he found he’d been mistaken. His foolishness hadn’t been rewarded. Not at all.

  Her voice was crackly. Tired-sounding. “Lucas, this is Tess. I’m sorry to bother you while you’re working, and this is incredibly awkward, but I figured you should know.”

  His chin dropped to his suddenly-aching chest.

  She’d changed her mind. Allowed the distance between them to resurrect all her doubts. Reconsidered another night together.

  “I got my period today,” she continued. “I should have remembered it was coming, but I’ve been kind of distracted the last few days.”

  At that, his head jerked up, and he blinked at the clubhouse a few times.

  “I also should have talked to my gynecologist before the trip about avoiding this sort of situation, but to be fair, I hadn’t anticipated plastering my naked, wet boobs against a random bro’s back, finding out he’s actually the resort’s very talented and appealing tennis pro, and then boning him until my vagina raised a tiny white flag this morning.”

  He snorted.

  Also: very talented and appealing? Nice.

  “I know you said you had plans for me, but…” Her sigh whispered into his ear. “I’m sorry. I’m crampy and achy and not feeling particularly sexual at the moment.”

  It was true. He’d had plans. Lots of them.

  Plans formulated over an endless, sunny day without Tess. Plans created with her sexual preferences and physical limitations in mind. Plans incorporating both his greatest talents and the vibrator he’d managed to buy on the mainland over an extended lunch break.

  Most of all, plans to make certain the next time he accompanied her to the dock—in just over a week, a stretch of time that now felt like the snap of his fingers—watching her leave wouldn’t mean watching her leave forever, because this goodbye had been hard enough.

  Plans he now had to scuttle.

  But that was okay. He could take or leave sex, even the sort of transcendent sex he’d had with Tess last night. As long as he still had the woman herself at his side, he wouldn’t ask for more.

  Her voice lowered even further. Turned tentative in a way that made him frown. “So…” A hesitation. “I’m not sure what that means as far as tonight. Whether we’re still getting together.” Another pause. “Call or text me when you get a chance, okay? Hope you’re having a good day.”

  That was it. The end of her message.

  He glared at his phone, battling the urge to throw it in frustration. Did she think he only wanted her for sex? What the fuck?

  Or, worse, did she only want him for sex?

  A quick glance at the screen revealed he still had five minutes before his next lesson began. His clients, a mother and daughter, were already waiting just outside the chain-link fence surrounding the courts, their eyes on him. He forced a smile in their direction, then turned his back to them to make the call.

  Tess answered after the first ring. “Hi, Lucas.”

  “Hey, Tess.” He didn’t have time to ease into the conversation. More than that, he couldn’t tolerate this level of uncertainty, not when it came to her. “I just listened to your message, and I get it. We can’t have sex tonight. Do you still want to see me? Or not?”

  With his free hand, he pinched the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes shut.

  Dammit. That had come out a bit too blunt. A bit too demanding.

  Her long silence in response seemed to indicate her agreement.

  “Wow,” she finally said. “No flirty charm there, Karlsson. You’re losing your touch.”

  He pinched harder and managed to grind out two words. “Tess. Please.”

  “Tell me first.” The words were a challenge, their aggressive bravado only a little undermined by their shakiness. “Do you still want to get together tonight?”

  She had to ask? To repeat himself: What the fuck?

  “Of course I do.” The words emerged in a whisper, more pained than he’d anticipated. “When have I ever given you any indication I only want you for sex?”

  Over the line, he could hear the rapid rush of her breath. “You haven’t. But we’ve known each other for less than a week, Lucas. How could I be sure?”

  His frustration died at the reminder of how little time they’d actually spent in each other’s company. How little, in the end, they actually knew about one another, for all that she made him feel naked in every conceivable way when they were together.

  “I guess you couldn’t. Which brings us back to my question.” His hand wasn’t entirely steady, and he tightened his grip on the phone. “Do you still want to see me?”

  Yes, his greatest talents all involved his body and its capabilities. On the tennis court. In the bedroom. But the things she’d said to him on that overlook and during their night together…

  For the first time in a while, he’d begun to believe he might have more to offer.

  Maybe she’d been humoring him, though. Maybe she hadn’t meant a word. Maybe he’d been fooling himself.

  “Yes.” Her answer was firm. Definite. “Yes. I do.”

  As he finally exhaled, that ache in his chest disappeared.

  She added, “Even though I’m kind of bloated. Also exhausted, since Mr. Perky didn’t let either of us get much sleep. When Belle said she wanted to do the guided tour of the blazing-hot gardens, I told her I would take a self-guided tour of this bench in the shade.”

  Poor thing. His older sister, from what he remembered, had complained about bloating and cramps and tiredness the first couple days of her period too.

  What had Annika done about that, anyway?

  Turning back to his next clients—now visibly restless, shifting from foot to foot and staring at him—he held up a forefinger, tacitly requesting patience as he tried to remember Annika’s monthly rituals and their accompanying supplies.

  Tampons. Over-the-counter painkillers. He couldn’t remember anything else.

  “I’m sorry you’re hurting.” He kept his voice soft. “Do you have everything you need?”

  She huffed out a small laugh. “Are you offering to buy me tampons? Real ones, not the nose variety?”

  “Yeah.” Wouldn’t be the first time. Annika had assigned him that particular task more than once. “If you want tampons, I’ll get tampons. Or pads, or whatever. Do you need ibuprofen or acetaminophen?”

  Another long silence.

  When she finally spoke again, her voice was equally s
oft. “That’s such a sweet offer, Lucas. Thank you. I have what I need on the tampon front, and I always carry a bottle of ibuprofen in my purse. You don’t happen to own a heating pad, though, do you?”

  Now he remembered. Annika had used one of those too.

  Until last year, he’d owned several of them, and they’d seen him through recovery from his surgeries. But they’d gotten lost during the move to the resort, and since he hadn’t injured himself since, he hadn’t bothered to replace them.

  “I’m sorry.” He was, genuinely. “I don’t have one anymore.”

  “It’s okay. I’ll be fine without it.” For a moment, he could only hear the chirp of birds from her end of the line, along with the distant murmur of strangers’ conversations. “You need to go, don’t you? Isn’t it time for another lesson?”

  Past time, actually. By a minute.

  “Yeah. I should probably go.” He bent down to pick up his racket. “But you’ll let me know when you’re done with dinner, like we planned?”

  “I will.” The simple sentence was warm. Sweet. A caress. “See you tonight.”

  “See you tonight. Take care of yourself, älskling.”

  Then the call was over, and he placed his phone back in his bag and strode over to his clients. Smiled at them and apologized. Started his lesson.

  All the while he made plans. New ones.

  Ones that had absolutely nothing to do with his body.

  The door to the spa entrance closed behind Lucas with a muffled whoosh. Suddenly, he was breathing scented air, herbal and pleasantly woodsy, as his eyes adjusted to the decreased light in the expansive space. Despite the candles burning in the enormous stone fireplace, various recessed light fixtures, and the large picture window behind the check-in counter, the wood-paneled walls kept the area surprisingly dim.

  A half-dozen people—all clad in snowy-white robes, all seated in cushioned, solid-wood couches and chairs—glanced up at him. He nodded at them, and then took stock of his surroundings, searching for what he needed or help getting it.

  Wooden racks of beautifully packaged merchandise. Framed photos of the Matterhorn and other snowy peaks against vivid blue skies. Delicate paintings of edelweiss and asters.