He climbs in and we sail down the main road that links Smyrna Hills and Mayfield.
“Thanks for tonight, Tyler. It was really fun.”
“You’re welcome,” he says and grasps my hand looping our fingers together. “So, you think you might wanna go out with me again sometime?”
This southern gentleman is seriously charming his way into my life.
“I think I’d like that.”
“Yes,” he drawls out and pumps our clasped hands into the air.
Haven
My week is flying right on by. Smooth sailing, but I can’t help but feel like the other shoe will drop. Before the work day ends, I sift through a few press releases and returning emails.
A gossip blog sent me an email letting me know they plan to run an article about wedding bell rumors. Couples who have had long engagements, which include two of my clients—Grady James and Harlow Trembley. They’ve been engaged for close to five years, I think. I have no idea what’s tripping them up. They are madly in love.
A country music radio program wants to book an interview with Scott. I forward that email to Zooey and Kenna.
My phone rings and Tyler’s name lights up the screen. I feel my smile grow wide.
“Hey you.”
“Hey, I have to go out of town,” he says. “One of my projects has gone sideways. You gonna be okay by yourself?” The sound of his truck’s engine roars to life.
I laugh. “I think so. My Netflix queue is calling my name. I need to catch up on Riverdale. And my parents’ pool is begging for me to spend some time floating on a raft.”
“Sounds like fun,” Tyler acknowledges. “Just had my pool cleaned yesterday. I might need some pool raft therapy if this project turns out to be the disaster, I think it’s going to be.”
“Oh, no. Well, good luck. Hopefully, all goes well.”
“I hope so,” he breathes out. “Hey, what are you doing Sunday?”
“I don’t have plans,” I answer. “Providing there are no publicity emergencies.”
“Right, well, good luck to you as well. I’ll pick you up after sundown on Sunday.”
My brows scrunch. “Okay, sounds mysterious.”
“It’ll be a good time, I promise.”
I don’t doubt that one bit. We say goodbye and I finish up my day with a last-minute meeting with Frankie. No fires to put out, thankfully. She just wanted to check on me.
Tyler: If you need food, go to the restaurant and have Jace or Maria make you anything you want. On me. Don’t starve.
Me: I’m thinking about popping a pizza in the oven.
Tyler: Jace makes a killer Napoli style pizza.
Me: How about you treat me to a pizza sometime instead?
Tyler: Deal.
Saturday arrives with an early morning rainstorm. I spend the better part of the early hours cleaning Sage’s house and then I make a quick run to the grocery store.
I’m working my way down the cereal aisle vacillating between Cinnamon Toast Crunch and Special K when my phone buzzes. I glance at the screen expecting to see someone from work. It feels like I’m getting spoiled with these leisurely days. Working in P.R., especially where celebs are concerned, there’s always a chance that my weekends will be spent putting out fires.
I’m staring at my brother, Weston’s name. Stunned is the appropriate word. Last time I heard from him, he was surfing in Bali. I’m not buying the story about him working on a ranch outside Dallas. Smoking pot on a beach in Mexico seems more his speed.
“Hi, Wes.”
“Hey, sis, what’s up?” Weston’s gravelly voice cuts through the line.
“You tell me, you’re the one calling,” I say with smile.
“Right.” He lets out a small chuckle.
“Mom says that you’re working in Dallas?”
“Uhm, yeah, that was a while ago.” He clears his throat. “I, uh, I’m in California and was gonna come and see you, if that’s okay?”
I finally decide on the Cinnamon Toast Crunch and drop it in the cart. “Wes, I’m in Mayfield. Are you okay? You sound a little off.”
“I’m all good, dude. It’s cool, I was just passing through on my way to Hawaii. Gonna go surf these gnarly waves out in Maui.”
“Well, have fun.”
He ends the call with a grumbly goodbye. He might have been drunk still. I have no idea. I double check my list and realize I need to buy more treats for Oliver. My stomach grumbles and I think about picking up a salad from the deli.
“Well, well, twice in week,” Jenna Rae drawls out and stares into my cart.
“Hello, Jenna Rae, what are you doing?”
She eyes me. “Shopping for groceries, obviously. So, I heard that you moved away because you had a baby.”
I roll my eyes. “I think you have me mixed up with someone else.”
Her hands grip her shopping cart and her chilly gaze slides over me. “Hmm, maybe. Something tells me that you’re hiding something.”
I inch my cart past her. “I need to finish my shopping. Lovely to see you again.”
She’s a twatwaffle.
I change my outfit at least ten times before Tyler shows up on Sunday evening. I finally settle on a white tank and floral print skirt.
As Tyler maneuvers his truck out of Sage’s driveway, a familiar hum zings through me. I like spending time with this guy.
“You ready?” He winks at me and my heart does this little pitter-pattering thing. Lord, this man is giving me all the feels.
When Tyler turns the truck down a dirt road with long and winding curves, I try to figure out where he’s taking me. I’ve never really explored this side of the trail.
Wide open spaces. Green, green pastures and beautiful wooden fences stretch for miles. After a few minutes, he pulls up to a field. Bales of hay in neat rows are spread before us.
“What’s this?”
“One of my favorite places,” he answers and hooks his thumb over his shoulder. “Come on.”
“We’re going out there?”
“Yes, come on.” He tosses open his door and climbs out.
Drawing in a deep breath, I jump out of my side of the truck. Tyler is there linking our hands and leads me to the back of the truck. The tailgate comes down and he produces a blanket along with a cooler.
“What’s in the cooler?”
He lifts me up and places me on the blanket. “Beer, bourbon and water. What’s your poison?” he asks, settling beside me.
I peek inside the cooler to find cans of a local IPA that I don’t recognize packed in ice along with a bottle of Haven’s Hill bourbon, a few bottles of water and two red solo cups.
“Water, if that’s okay?”
“Of course.”
He hands me my drink and then knocks his beer against my bottle of water. The crickets are loud and the sky is streaked with oranges and rich yellows.
“Cheers.”
I smile and take a long drink. “Tell me about this place.”
“It’s the edge of my ranch,” he answers before taking a long pull from his beer. “I come out here to think sometimes.”
Of course this cowboy comes out here to be all broody and think deep thoughts. His thigh rests against mine. I feel the heat of his body on my bare legs. Glancing up at him, I watch his eyes slowly roam over the landscape. Pride shows in his expression.
“Never brought a woman out here though,” he confesses.
My feet swing forward then back. I swallow and think about the words he just said, but I don’t linger. “I’m glad you chose me.” I bump his shoulder with mine. “Guess I’m taking your ‘sharing your special place with someone else’ virginity.”
“Yeah, I guess you are.” He laughs and tips his beer back. “You mind if I smoke?” he asks and rolls a cigar between his fingers.
I shake my head. “Not at all.”
He leans forward and lights the end of the cigar. The smell of the tobacco is sweet. I watch the smoke rings puff up and float of
f into the nightfall.
“The fundraiser is Friday,” he says. “Can I pick you up at seven?”
This man.
I smile. “You can.”
“I’ll be wearing a suit, if that gives you an idea of what you want to wear.”
Tyler tilts his head and blows out a puff of smoke. His beer sits between his legs and his thumb presses against my skin, massaging slow circles just above my knee. This is what teenage fantasies are made of—sitting in the bed of a pickup truck with the hottest guy in town. The bad boy. The rebel. The quarterback of the football team.
He’s so damn handsome. The teenager in me is swooning like crazy. The woman in me wants to push him onto his back and kiss the hell out of him.
“Your place, your land is really beautiful.”
“Someday I’ll show you it all.” He swings his gaze to me.
My stomach dips and I dig my teeth into my bottom lip. “I’d really like that.”
“Would you like a taste?” He holds out the cigar and I take it from him, puffing lightly on the end. He takes a drink of his beer and sets the can back between his thighs nestled right up against his cock.
I pass the cigar back to him and he brings it to his lips. It is quiet, a comfortable quiet, as we both stare out in the night.
“My sister and I spent a lot of our time in the attic of the house,” he says and offers me the cigar.
“No, thanks. It’s all you.”
“There was an elementary school across the street. I wanted to go to school so bad. We’d listen to the kids as they screamed and laughed. That’s what we were doing the day we were rescued. It was Halloween and I wanted to take Ava trick-or-treating.” He blows out a deep breath and swallows down another drink of his beer. “One of the last things I said to her was that I’d take her trick-or-treating that next year, and I promised her we’d bake cookies together.”
I smile at the thought of Tyler baking cookies with his sister. My brothers made me make them grilled cheese and tomato soup for lunch nearly every day when we were on summer break. I swear Wes lives on cheese and bread alone.
Tyler crushes the end of the cigar against the heel of his boot, snuffing it out and then drops it into the beer can. “I begged Momma to let us go to school. She told us that we didn’t need an education. School of Hard Knocks was all we needed. Never wanted anyone to know we were living in that house.” He sets the beer can on the side of the truck and then twines our fingers together. “I always wanted to be a part of a community. Not someone looking from the outside in, ya know?”
I nod, because on some level, I understand what he is saying. Here in Mayfield, I feel like an outsider, especially in my family. When everything went down that summer with Sawyer and those awful summers that followed, all I wanted to do was hide.
“Being here, I feel like an outsider,” I confess. “But, with my job at MCA, I have somewhere to belong.”
I give him a few breadcrumbs. Not that I don’t want to share everything with him, because I do. This is his moment. Not mine.
His thumb brushes back and forth over my skin. “So, why am I telling you all this?” Tyler chuckles and wraps his arm around me, pulling me closer. My head rests just below his shoulder. “I have a meeting with a guy who is part of a historical preservation society. We’re going to talk about giving downtown Mayfield a makeover. I want to put together a committee of business owners who can help with the process. I think I have an idea of how to start, but I need the confirmation.”
I lean back to look at him. “Are you serious?”
He smiles. “Yes, ma’am.”
I shove at his chest. “Ma’am makes me feel old. Aside from that, Tyler, that’s incredible. So that’s why you took me to Smyrna Hills the other night.”
He shrugs. “Guilty as charged.”
“I like that you shared that with me.”
His lips brush mine. “I like sharing things with you, Haven.” His lips move over mine and my hands land on his chest. He kisses me and I fall. My body lights up, every single cell is whizzing around like a pinball.
Tyler drags me onto his lap. I’m super aware of everything. Every breath. Every groan. Or growl. That deep low rumbling in his chest sends me right over the edge of civility. I shove my hands into his hair and move my legs to straddle him. The metal of the truck bed bites into my knees.
“Kiss me, again,” I whisper.
Tyler
“Christ, woman, I can feel your heat through my jeans.”
She wiggles against me and the friction makes my eyes roll back into my skull. She’s hot and wet. If she keeps up this up, I’m going to fucking come like a teenager in my jeans.
I grip her hips and attempt to hold her in place. “Haven,” I warn against her lips. The rough edge to my voice matches my craving for her.
“Hmm,” she mumbles and tries to rub herself against me. She’s unsuccessful.
My hands slide up her thighs and under the pretty yellow dress she is wearing. Two can play at the torture game. My index finger teases the edge of her panties. Which for the record, I want to fucking get a glimpse of—badly.
“Ahh, Tyler,” she whispers.
Haven feels good, her skin is smooth and she smells like warm sugar and honey. I think. My synapses are fried at the moment. Nothing is registering except the need I have for this woman.
“What are you doing to me?”
“Probably playing with fire,” she says and smirks.
My forehead presses to her collarbone and I feel the thrum of her pulse. My lips map kisses over her soft skin. As much as I want to pin this woman beneath me and make her scream in pleasure, I’m not doing it in the back of my truck. Trust me, I’m tempted. It’s a fantasy. Like the trench coat fantasy I’m sure every guy has—you know the one where your woman shows up at your doorstep unannounced with “come fuck me eyes” and nothing else. Yeah, and the way Haven is looking at me right now, it’s taking every ounce of sanity I have to keep my dick in my pants.
My lips drift up her neck, over her cheek and land on her lips. She fucking moans into my mouth.
Fucking hell.
I catch her bottom lip between my teeth then kiss her hard. Her hands fist the hem of my t-shirt when my tongue dives into her mouth. My hand cups her chin and my fingers splay against her cheek as I deepen our kiss.
She pulls back breathless. “You are a good kisser.”
My brows rise. “Just good?”
“Okay, maybe really good.”
“Haven.” Her name is delicious on my lips. And her touch is like coming home, it’s a feeling unlike any other that I’ve ever known.
She laughs against me and her arms wrap around my neck. Then her fingers drift up to my hair and her nails scrape against my skull sending fine tremors of pleasure down my spine. Her hips jerk and my erection throbs against her begging for attention.
Her sexy little moans and gasps make my blood sing. My dick demands to be let loose as my finger teases over her lace covered clit.
“Ohhhh,” she moans into my mouth.
“So good.”
“Tyler, please,” she begs as I stroke her slowly.
Her teeth nip at my jaw and down my neck scraping against the tender spots.
“Jesus Christ,” I breathe as her fingers coast across my abs.
Haven rears back and swallows thickly. “I . . . I should get back to Sage’s place and check on Oliver.”
“Right, Oliver,” I repeat.
She leans into me and I’m desperate to feel her again.
“You go on,” I pant. “Get in the truck and I’ll gather everything up.”
Translation: Please get off me before I bust a nut because I really want to keep doing this, but I’m not about to fuck you in the bed of my pickup truck. I need a minute.
She kisses my cheek and then does this cute little dismount move off my lap and lands on the ground. I grasp her wrist. “My self-control is crumbling, Haven.”
“Mine too.” A
small smile tips up her lips. “But I’m having a lot of fun making out with you.” Her lips crush to mine, and she drags me right into the abyss with the kiss.
Haven
It’s been two days since my make-out session with Tyler in the back of his truck and I still feel his lips on mine.
His kiss.
His touch.
It’s so good. It’s going to burn through my body all day. Like the taste of a good bourbon.
I’ve told myself, there’s nothing here for me. But one night may have changed all of that.
What if there is something more with Tyler?
What if?
Or what if this is just a fleeting moment?
“Girl, hello,” Aaron waves his hands in front of my face bringing me out of my daydream.
“Sorry, what’d you say?”
“Where’d you go just now?”
Before I can answer Aaron’s question, our salads and wraps arrive. My first lunch date with Aaron as promised. We sit at the local coffee shop, which is a few doors down from The Saffron House. Tyler’s project at the law office is keeping him busy. Hiccups at every turn. And Jace came down with some kind of virus, so Tyler is helping out at the restaurant at night.
“You were thinking about our resident hottie restaurateur, weren’t you?” He waggles his brows.
I lift the dressing and pour a tiny bit over the bed of greens. “Yes. You got me.”
“You said, you had a date. Tell me about it. Did you finally sleep with him?” Aaron picks up his turkey club wrap and takes a bite.
“I’ve known him for like a week,” I remind. “Not even that long, but if I’m being honest, I feel like I’ve known him forever. Is that stupid?”
“No way. What if you’re soulmates? And so what if you’ve known each other for a week or five years? Life is too short not to fuck the guy and soon. Good sex waits for no one.”
I laugh. “Soulmates.” I take a few bites of my salad. “What about you? Any prospects?”
He sighs and drizzles greek dressing over his salad. “Sadly, no. I went over to Elliston University the other day. A friend of mine is teaching a summer class there. Anyway, on my way out, I stopped at the coffee shop. There was a cute barista, but I swear he couldn’t have been more than twenty-one, maybe twenty-two. I got a vibe from him. Left my card in the jar for a chance to win a free cup of coffee and a bagel.”
Beautiful March Page 13
