by Marina Adair
When he didn’t laugh or even smile, Josephina’s heart did a flip right up into her throat. If she hadn’t loved him before, she hopelessly fell right then. Fell in love with a man who was destined to leave her.
“Why did you bring me here, Brett?”
“Because I want you to stay.” No hesitation. “I want to see you happy and settled here in Sugar.”
“Letty left me that house, and no matter how much those ladies throw at me, I’m not leaving.” She paused to swallow. “But you are.”
“I could come home.” His hand slid through her hair.
“What, between tournaments?”
“We could make it work.”
“That sounds like a lot of empty nights in between.”
His hand fell and he leaned back. “Are you afraid I’d cheat?”
“What? No.” She wasn’t. He might have slept with his fair share of women, but Josephina knew when he committed himself to a relationship he wouldn’t stray. It went against who he was as a man.
With a sigh, she found herself looking up again, leaning against Brett and letting the vastness of the stars work their magic.
“Wilson was gone so much over the last two years I think we spent more time apart than together. I don’t want another relationship like that. It hurts too much. I deserve more. We both do.” She closed her eyes and forced herself to put it all out there. “I want roots, Brett. And you’re leaving the day after the fundraiser.”
He exhaled hard. “So where does that leave us?”
Walking away now wouldn’t make the blow any less painful. And knowing that she’d opted out of what could be one of the most important relationships of her life because of fear wasn’t going to happen. Nope, Josephina would open herself up to the time they had left and make sure when he went back on tour, went back to his life of twenty-four-hour commitments, there would be no regrets about going half in.
“I figure you have a little over two weeks before you have to leave for New Jersey. That gives us sixteen days and nights to get each other out of our systems.” Even as she said it she knew it was a lie. The way his arms slid around her waist, pulling her to him as if afraid she’d slip away, said that he knew it, too.
“What if I can’t get you out of my system?” he asked.
“It still doesn’t change the fact that you’re leaving.”
Tipping her head to the side, she wrapped one hand around the back of his neck and tugged his mouth toward hers. She kissed him partly because she didn’t want to talk about his leaving, but mostly because she couldn’t go another minute without letting him know just how much he’d come to mean to her. She couldn’t say the words aloud without the threat of tears, but she could show him.
On a groan, Brett’s hands tightened on her waist, brushing over the naked skin of her stomach, the friction of his hands on her making it impossible to catch her breath. He started a careful ascent, around her navel and over each rib, with agonizing slowness, until he was cupping both breasts.
She felt him smile at the discovery that she wasn’t wearing a bra.
“God,” he growled. “I knew it.”
“You want to know what else?”
Sliding her hand under her tank, she linked her fingers with Brett’s. The feel of both their hands on her breast was so erotic she realized she could sit there until morning, with Brett thoroughly exploring her with his hands and mouth.
Fingers still laced, she guided his hand down her stomach, under her pajama shorts, and right where her lace and silk should have been.
“Hot damn, girl,” he moaned into her mouth as his fingers grazed her moist, heated skin. “Naked and wet.”
“It’s your fault. You say sugar in that sexy drawl and my whole body melts.”
Now that she had his hand right where she wanted it, she tried to untangle their fingers.
“No, stay with me.” His grip tightened around hers before slowly sliding their fingers back and forth across the sensitive flesh.
“Brett,” she whispered when they both cupped her. Her breath caught and she pushed into their hands, needing more. She had never felt like this, this out of control with need. It was naughty and wild and so damn right.
“Sugar,” he purred, sliding two fingers in, and she almost came apart. “Look up.”
Resting her head against his chest, she did as told, dropping her knees to the side, just in case he needed more room to work. And Brett, she learned, took his work very seriously, slowly loving her while she stared at the stars.
All of her fears and troubles started getting smaller and smaller as that place in her heart, the one now reserved for Brett, got larger and larger until she felt as if her chest would explode trying to hold it all in.
In that moment, their bodies lit only by the moon, the debilitating need to please her parents, to prove to the town that she could make Fairchild House a success, to protect her heart from disappointment, disappeared. In its place was a desire to live—really live and experience everything life was offering.
Feeling bold, Josephina slid her own finger inside. Brett hesitated for only a moment before slowing his rhythm and giving her time to match his. They fell in sync easily, gliding together.
“That’s incredible,” he said. “Sexy as hell, but incredible.”
Yeah, it was. She loved how they moved together, how their belief in each other dissolved everything until all that remained was their desire and the man that she loved.
“I’m going to come just watching you,” he whispered into her hair, his breath ragged and hot.
Well, if that didn’t steal her breath, then the way their fingers slid in and out, picking up the pace and leaving nothing unexplored, had Josephina teetering on the edge. But when his lips took hers, soft and full of emotion, she felt tears threaten.
No man had ever appreciated her the way Brett did. She could see it in the way he looked at her, feel it in the way he kissed her. And dear God, the man could kiss.
“You are so damn beautiful,” he said, and warmth swelled, starting low in her belly and spreading through her entire body. But where it settled was in her heart.
A mix of emotions, which were too intense to hold back, rushed over her. She felt her muscles tighten around them and her chest expand until she felt so much of everything that she was afraid to breathe. Afraid that if she gave in there would be no going back. Not for her. Not with the way he was holding her, slowly taking up residence in her heart.
“I’ve got you, Joie,” he promised. And she believed him. “Just let go.”
She did. Against her better judgment, she pushed down the fear and she let herself fall—right into him. The stars overhead went blurry and she shattered, his name a strangled cry that cut through the still night air.
Neither moved. Neither spoke. Josephina sat there, cradled against him, their fingers still intertwined, and their gazes locked as they clung to each other. She could feel his heart pounding through her chest.
Every breath, every touch, every cell in her body was saying, I love you.
And Josephina could have sworn that his body was whispering the same thing.
* * *
A few hours later, Brett lit the last candle and dropped another pile of pillows on top of the sleeping bags and quilts. Satisfied with his surprise, he shucked his jeans and crawled under the makeshift bed, wearing the same stupid-ass grin that had been plastered on his face for the past week. Making love under the stars had only made it stupider. So had taking his sweet time in the shower with Joie, helping wash off every speck of mud.
“What are you doing down there?” Joie stood at the bottom of the stairs holding a candle. She was wrapped in a silky pink robe, which only came to her thighs, and, based on his advantageous position, not much else. “Waiting for fairies?”
“Waiting for you.” Something he found himself doing a lot lately. Something, if it meant having this woman in his bed, he wouldn’t mind spending the rest of his life doing. Even though
the thought of a life past tomorrow made him sweat, and thinking of a life past Joie scared the shit out of him.
“I guess I’d better hurry up then.” She glided across the room, limbs loose, hips swaying, eyes dancing with mischief. She moved like a woman who had recently been well-loved. Which she had. Twice.
He waited until she got to the end of the quilts and pulled back the blanket, loving how she licked her lips. He wasn’t wearing much of anything either.
“So I’m guessing a fun game of strip poker is out of the question,” she said, her voice laced with mischief.
“Not the game I had in mind.”
Joie traced the V of her robe, letting her fingers dip under the belt. With a slow pull, the belt fell away and the robe pooled at her feet. No T-shirt, no lace, no silk. Just her. All grace and curves.
And damn, was she beautiful.
“Is this more like what you were thinking?” she teased.
Brett grabbed her by the waist and in record time pulled her under him. His hands glided over her body, loving how her eyes flamed and she nibbled her lower lip when he hit a good spot. “Not quite, but we’re getting there.”
“How about now?” she asked, taking matters into her own hands. Literally. “We getting any closer?”
Brett exhaled hard, absorbing the sensation of her cool hands curving around the hard-on, which he’d been sporting since he realized he couldn’t get the power working and would have to make do with candles. Then he thought of how her naked skin would glow under the flickering light and he was done for.
Slowly she stroked him. They didn’t kiss, or speak, or move, just fell into each other’s gaze as she took her time exploring him and blowing every last fuse in his brain. Even if her hands weren’t on him, the way she looked up through her lashes, as though he was a part of this magical world she had created, would have melted his heart.
“So close it scares me,” he whispered, lowering his head and kissing her.
He took his time exploring her mouth. At first just her lips, the top one, then the bottom, eventually sliding his tongue across the seam. She opened up for him and he took it deeper, pushing them to the next level. Hell, everything between them went deeper with each breath they shared.
Tonight was about connection, about opening up and admitting that he didn’t want this to end when he went back on the circuit. He was going to rebuild on his parents’ property. Finally move home. And he wanted Joie to be a part of that.
Needed her to want to be a part of that.
Brett took her hands and pressed them above her head, her touch too much to handle if he expected this to last through the night. Rolling on the condom, he settled back between her legs. She pressed herself closer, which was fine by him, especially when she wrapped those silky legs around his middle, and her arms tightly around his neck, igniting a wave of desire that went straight to his heart. Brett held her tighter, kissed her a little harder, putting everything he was feeling out there for her to see.
Joie rolled her hips, rocking up against him, sliding her body against his, creating a natural friction that was damn near close to heaven. Cupping her head with one hand, he slid the other under her back, creating a barrier against the floor as he moved in and out, their bodies never more than a breath apart.
He kept kissing that mouth of hers, lost in how her body felt plastered to his, as if afraid that the magic would vanish the moment they rolled out from under the chandelier. Then Joie arched her back and squeezed even tighter as Brett exploded and felt every one of her muscles melt into a puddle beneath him.
Face buried in her hair, he listened to their hearts slowly return to a normal rate.
Without breaking her hold, she peered down at their tangled bodies, her hands in his hair, her legs locked around his middle, feet pointing to heaven, and smiled. “Letty was right. You can’t get your wings with your feet stuck to the floor.”
“Wings?”
“Uh-huh. I think I finally found mine,” she whispered, staring up into his eyes as she pulled him back down for another kiss. “Because I feel like I’m flying.”
* * *
Brett woke to a wet nose nudging one arm. Too bad for the dog, he had a naked woman lying in the other, snuggled so tightly against his body he couldn’t tell what limbs belonged to whom. And he didn’t care.
Last night had changed everything. He felt it in his chest. They had made love until the sun started to crest the hills, each time more magical than the last. Brett smiled at his word choice. Cheesy as hell, but when talking about Joie it seemed to fit.
A little whimper echoed in his ear.
“Five more minutes, buddy,” Brett whispered, pulling Joie closer and tracing his hand over her hip and down her thigh. She moaned and pressed back into him, her ass sliding against him and putting the “good” in his morning. “Make that an hour.”
“I figure you have about two seconds before that dog bites it off,” a voice said from the doorway.
Making sure the covers concealed Joie, Brett turned and grumbled, “What are you doing here, Cal?”
Joie squeaked and pulled the quilt over her head.
“Was about to ask you the same.” Cal’s tone was easy, but his expression could cut slate.
“None of your damn business. Now, if you could get the hell out, that would be great.”
“Morning, Cal,” muffled out from under the covers as a warm hand found Brett’s and gave a quick squeeze.
“Morning, Joie.” Cal blushed. Good, the bastard was embarrassed. “Sorry about barging in. But no one was answering their phone.”
“The power’s still out,” Brett explained, adding, “and my cell is in the truck.”
Cal’s brows furrowed. “Really? The power at our place came back on last night.”
“Yeah, well, Grandma didn’t shove hedge cutters into your fuse box.” Brett took a deep breath, noticing Joie still hadn’t come out from under the covers. “Since we have established the source of the blowout, you can leave.”
Joie smacked Brett’s back. The reprimand was loud enough to make Cal smile.
“Hattie is on the warpath; she’s got everyone riled up and on their way over here.” Another squeak from under the covers. “I headed them off. You’ve got about ten minutes tops before they come breaking down the door. Just enough time to take a cold one. Oh, and I brought her dog back.”
“Boo!” Joie came out of hiding for the dog, which bounded over to her and delivered wet doggie kisses.
“Thanks, bro.” Unable to move without flashing his brother, Brett nodded, his irritation ebbing.
“Yeah, well, next time I get to rescue the girl.” Cal rubbed his arm. “That thing has the jaws of a bear trap. She reminds me of my ex.”
“He is usually a good dog,” Joie defended. “I’m so sorry, Cal.”
“Don’t be.” Brett brushed his lips across hers, not bothering to correct her. That dog was a menace, but to her Boo was family. “Cal called Boo a girl. He deserved a little nip.”
“Nip? Hell, she—”
Boo growled, showing his masculine teeth.
“—He nearly chewed through my steel-toed boots to get to my ankle.”
Brett looked at Joie, who he could tell was nervous about another run-in with his grandma, and back to Cal. “Can you try to buy us another few minutes?”
“I can try.” Cal pulled out his phone but didn’t sound too confident. “We still need to talk before everyone gets here. I have something to show you.”
Brett didn’t like the sound of that and he didn’t want to end a perfect night with a lecture from his brother.
“Want to borrow my shower?” she whispered after Cal disappeared into the salon.
She stood and pulled on her robe, which was a damn shame, so Brett stopped her right before she tied the belt. Taking her by the lapels he held it open, letting his gaze run the length of her, and then gave each breast a kiss.
“No, I want you in the shower but somehow I do
n’t think my grandma would see it as rude to barge in.” He gave one last look and tied the belt. “Why don’t you go get cleaned up and let me deal with my family?”
She looked hesitant. He didn’t blame her. He was asking her to go hide while he handled things.
“Please.”
To his surprise she nodded and then said the only three words that could send his entire world crashing down.
“I trust you.”
Chapter 20
Shit.” Brett grabbed for the paper in Cal’s hand.
“You’re so far in it, no amount of charm will get rid of that stench.”
Cal was right. Brett didn’t even have to open the magazine to understand that his entire life was about to go to hell. Worse still, he’d brought down Joie with him. His hand fisted as he read the headline and imagined ripping the journalist’s throat out.
PGA’S PLAYBOY MCGRAW PLAYS IT FAST AND LOOSE AND PAYS THE PRICE—TO THE SUM OF HALF-A-MIL.
He hated the media. Hated himself right about then. He’d fucked up. Big-time.
“At least tell me that you came clean about the loan,” Cal said. Brett’s guilt must have shown on his face. “Aw, man, what were you thinking?”
“That I had time. That once she got the inn up and running she wouldn’t care.” Brett ran a hand down his face. “I’m going to lose her over this, aren’t I?”
“I don’t know,” Cal admitted quietly.
Brett opened to the first page and scanned the article. There was too much personal information, too many details about the loan, about how he and Joie were childhood friends, about her disaster of an engagement to Rat Bastard for this to be a speculative story. Someone had sold him out.
He tried to breathe. His lungs told him to screw off, which was what Joie was going to do the second she saw those papers. Since he’d won his first Masters and gone from small-town nobody to overnight sensation, Brett had known that his luck would run out, that one day his play-it-loose reputation would bite him in the ass. He just never expected the fallout to affect the ones he loved.
