by Marie Force
“It’s not funny,” he says sternly.
“It’s a little funny.”
“Nothing little about it.”
“I know. I’ve been thinking about it all day.”
“Stop,” he says.
I go to him, flatten my hands on his sweaty chest and gaze up at him. “Does that mean you’ve been thinking about it all day, too?”
“Not at all.”
“You’re such a liar, Counselor.” I glance down at the obvious bulge in his shorts. “Such a liar.” I want to drop to my knees and give him a repeat performance. “You know what else I was thinking about today?”
“I’m afraid to guess.”
“That I’ve had your dick in my mouth, but I’ve never even kissed you.” I zero in on his lips. “We ought to rectify that at some point.”
“I said one night, Leah. That’s all this is going to be. We’re not in a relationship.”
“Could you just remind me again why it can only be one night?”
His exasperated sigh has me moving in closer to him. I don’t care that he’s sweaty. I just want more of him. “We work together, and I don’t do messy or complicated, and this has the potential to be both.”
“Does it?” I ask, filled with giddy hope that he thinks I could be complicated—and messy. I’d love to get messy with him.
“You know it does.”
“You know what else I know?”
“I’m almost afraid to ask…”
“That we aren’t doing anything wrong by giving in to an attraction we both feel, and don’t try to tell me you don’t feel it, too.” I gently place my palm over his erection, not wanting to hurt him as I make my point. “We aren’t doing anything wrong, Emmett.”
“You don’t know me at all,” he says through gritted teeth.
“Yes, I do.”
“No, you really don’t.”
“Then tell me what I need to know, but don’t try to tell me you aren’t equally attracted.”
“I won’t deny I’m attracted.”
“That’s good, because I’d hate to have to remind you of the evidence to the contrary.” I flex my hand ever so slightly to remind him I’m still holding his cock, just in case he’s forgotten.
He pulls my hand away. “Behave yourself, pit bull.”
I love that nickname so hard. “Why should I? I’m alone with a guy I want to be with who just admitted he wants to be with me, too. Why do I have to behave?”
“Because. There’re things… Things you don’t know.”
“What things?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“You know what’s really funny about you?”
“I can’t wait to hear this.”
“You’ve got yourself convinced that I’m way too young for you, but I’m not the one playing games here and acting like a fifteen-year-old who doesn’t know how to deal with women.”
I love the flash of anger that heats his gorgeous eyes. “That’s not what I’m doing.”
“Isn’t it? What’re you so afraid of?”
“I’m not afraid of anything.”
“Could’ve fooled me.” I turn away from him and begin unpacking the groceries I bought. “I hope you like chicken carbonara. It’s one of my specialties.” I start rifling through drawers and cabinets, generally making myself at home in his kitchen while pretending to ignore the fact that he’s still standing there, still staring at me, still hot as fuck and hard as a rock.
It’s occurred to me, many times in the months since my unreasonable crush on Emmett took hold and flourished like an out-of-control weed, that I could’ve and probably should’ve set my sights on a more attainable man. But it’s not like I consciously decided to set my sights on him. It just happened, that first day in the Quantum office. I met him at Flynn and Natalie’s wedding and remember finding him incredibly attractive, but it wasn’t until we actually conversed about the NDA that I began to think about licking him.
“If you want to grab a shower, I need about half an hour to get this ready.”
He stands there for another second or two before turning and walking away.
I release a deep breath and pour myself a glass of the wine I brought while trying not to think about him naked, wet and soapy in the shower. It takes all the willpower I can muster to stay in the kitchen when I want to be in that shower with him more than I want my next breath.
Patience, I tell myself. Have some patience.
I have none where he’s concerned. I hardly recognize myself in this situation. Most of the time, I’m the guy in my dealings with men. I love them and leave them. I don’t get involved. I don’t care enough to bother. But with Emmett, everything is different, and I can’t even say why. It just is. I look at him and I want him, and not just physically. I’m attracted to that big brain of his as much as I am his other big parts. I want to understand what makes him tick. I want to know about his family, his childhood, his life before I met him. I want to know everything.
And that kind of scares me. At any moment, I expect him to tell me to go away and stay gone. It’s obvious that he’s equal parts aroused and irritated by my presence. What if the irritation wins out? It was so much easier when I didn’t care. Part of me wishes I could go back to that apathetic state of being when I wasn’t risking anything by going after what I want.
With Emmett, I feel like I’m risking everything—the new job I love, my new life and my sanity. But even knowing that, I can’t seem to control or contain the pressing need for more of him—and I don’t want to control or contain it. I want to give in to it and fully gorge on feelings I’ve never experienced so powerfully before I met him.
I spent some time with Addie today in the office, heard some more about how she’d ended up with Hayden and how hard she fought for the happily ever after they will get this weekend when they exchange vows and begin their life together. She’d intimated there was much more to the story than what she’d shared, but she said enough for me to see that she’d gone after what she wanted and it had paid off big-time for her, even if she is a hot mess of anxiety over the wedding itself.
Although her story gave me hope and furthered my belief that I owe it to myself to see where this could go with Emmett, I’m actually a little worried about how stressed out she is—and from what I heard from others, so is Hayden.
Something is wrong. Our wedding is days away, and Addie is a wreck. My Addie is never a wreck. She’s the picture of competence in all situations. Watching her come undone as our wedding day draws closer is making me crazy. We should’ve eloped the way Flynn and Natalie did the first time they exchanged vows, but she wouldn’t hear of it. She wants the big white wedding, and since I want whatever she wants, I went along with it. Now I wish I’d insisted on something simpler.
She’s weepy and withdrawn and not sleeping. Worst of all, she’s not talking to me about whatever is wrong, so I’ve begun to think the worst. Does she want out of it and doesn’t know how to tell me? Yeah, that’s where my mind has gone, and it’s not a good place to be, especially this week when we’re supposed to be happier than we’ve ever been.
She’s not happy, and as such, neither am I.
I arrive home to the house we share in Malibu and go looking for her, finding her in the office bent over her ever-present wedding notebook. I wish I’d insisted on a wedding planner so she wouldn’t be bearing the brunt of the planning stress, but she’d wanted to do it herself so I gave in. She doesn’t hear me come in, so I take advantage of the opportunity to drink her in. I, who once thought I couldn’t love any woman, have come to love her more than my own life. If she wants out, I honestly don’t know what I’ll do. I’m so afraid of that possibility that I almost can’t bring myself to broach the subject at all.
But I have to know what’s wrong, if for no other reason than watching her suffer is killing me.
“Hey, babe,” I say softly so I won’t startle her.
She looks up at me, and I’m alarme
d by puffy eyes, dark circles and a general sense of weariness that breaks my heart. “Oh. You’re home.”
“I need you to do something for me.”
“What’s that?”
I hold out my hand to her. “Come with me.”
“I’ve got a million things to do tonight.”
“Please?”
I can feel her reluctance when she gets up from the chair, comes around the desk and reaches out to take my hand. Her engagement ring sparkles in the waning daylight coming in through the windows that face the ocean.
I close my fingers around hers and lead her to the deck, sitting on the double lounge chair I bought her for her birthday after she said she wished we could sit together on the deck that overlooks the Pacific and not in separate chairs. Because there’s a slight chill in the air this October evening, I draw a blanket over us and snuggle her in close to me. “Talk to me, Addison. Tell me what’s going on.”
“Nothing is going on. Our wedding is in six days, and there’s still a lot to do.”
“That’s not it, and if you don’t tell me what’s up, I’m going to fear that maybe you don’t really want to marry me after all, and if that’s the case…” I can’t even say it. The mere thought of it is enough to make me feel like the world is ending.
I’m shocked and horrified when she begins to cry.
“Addie, sweetheart…” I want to get up and run away so I won’t have to hear whatever she’s going to tell me. If I don’t hear her say it’s over, then it’s not over. Right? I wouldn’t know how these things work. I’ve never been in love before her, before she forced her way into my life with fearless determination that left me helpless to do anything other than give her everything. If she takes back her love… “Do you not want to get married?”
She only cries harder.
I’m dying. The helpless feeling that overtakes me reminds me far too much of my mother overdosing four times. Then, like now, I had no idea what to do or how to help. For someone who prides himself on control in all aspects of his life, being out of control is the worst place to be.
I stroke her hair and caress her back, hoping she’ll calm down enough to tell me what’s got her so upset. But more than anything, I want to hear that she hasn’t changed her mind about me and the life we’re supposed to have together.
Her hiccupping sobs are like knives in my gut. If she hurts, I hurt. That’s how much I love her, and I resolve that no matter what she says, I won’t give her up without a fight.
“Addison, talk to me.” I run my fingers through her silky blonde hair. “Tell me what’s wrong. Let me help.”
“I don’t know what’s happening,” she says between sobs.
“Is it the wedding? Do you not want to marry me?”
She shakes her head.
Dear God, which question is she answering?
“Of course I want to marry you.”
Relief floods through me, leaving me lightheaded and breathless. I tighten my hold on her, clinging to the woman who changed my life in every possible way.
“I’m sorry if you thought I didn’t. It’s nothing to do with you. It’s me… And… My mom.”
Her mother died more than fifteen years ago from a heart attack, when Addie was twelve. “What about your mom?” I ask, confused.
“Since she died, there’s been this blank space in my mind where she used to be. I couldn’t remember much of anything about her, and in the last few days, it’s all come rushing back. I remember everything, and I feel like it’s happening all over again. Am I going crazy?”
My heart breaks for her. “No, baby, you’re not going crazy.”
“Why is this happening now?”
“Probably because you want her with you at our wedding, so your mind is unlocking the memories.”
“You really think so?” She looks up at me with big blue eyes filled with tears that gut me.
I wipe them from her face. “I can’t know for sure, but that sounds like a possibility, doesn’t it?”
“I like that better than thinking I’m losing my mind. I’ve been a mess, forgetting things. I forgot to book a band! I don’t forget things, Hayden. That’s not who I am!”
“Take a breath, sweetheart. You put so much pressure on yourself. The only thing that matters Saturday is you and me and the people we love. Who the fuck cares if we have a band?”
She breaks down again, making me wish I hadn’t spoken so harshly. But she’s certainly used to the way I say things by now. Usually she rolls her eyes while telling me to knock it off. She doesn’t cry, not like this anyway.
“You want me to call your dad?”
She shakes her head. “This would freak him out.”
“He and I could be freaked out together, then.”
“I’m sorry to do this to you.”
“Don’t apologize. I’m totally fine as long as you still want to marry me.”
She gives me a tearful smile. “How could you ever wonder after everything I did to make myself essential to you?”
“You’ve done a spectacular job of making yourself essential to me. The thought of one day without you makes me crazy. You realize you can’t ever leave me, right?”
“Where would I go? The only place I want to be is with you.”
Hearing that, I can breathe again, but what do I do about these memories that’re coming back to haunt her, this of all weeks? “What can I do to help you through this?”
She burrows into my chest. “This is helping.”
I hold her as tightly as I can. “I want Saturday to be the best day of your life, Addison. I don’t want anything to make you sad or unhappy. Your mother wouldn’t want that either.”
“I know.”
“Maybe we should see this as a gift. She’s come back to you at this important moment in your life to make sure she’s with you.”
“That’s a nice way to look at it. I’ve always missed her, you know?”
“Of course you have.”
“I really wish she could’ve met you. She would’ve loved you.”
“Like your dad does?” I ask, laughing. Simon York and I have managed to put aside our differences because we both love Addie and want what’s best for her, but we’ll never be best friends.
“She would’ve loved the way you love me, just like my dad does.”
“He said that?”
“More than once.”
“Huh. That’s surprising.”
“What more could any father want for his daughter than a husband who worships her the way you do me?”
“I do worship at the altar of Addison York Roth. That is for sure.”
She tears up again. “That’s the first time I’ve heard my new name.”
“First of many times.”
“My dad told me a long time ago that I could do anything I wanted because I was smart and resourceful and beautiful. He told me I didn’t have to get married to be happy, but if I decided that’s what I wanted, it had better be to someone who was good to me. No one has ever been as good to me as you are, except my dad, of course.” She places her hand on my face. “He loves you, and my mom would’ve, too.”
“Now you’re going to make me cry.”
She kisses me. “I can’t wait to marry you.”
“I can’t wait either. I never thought I’d get married until you showed me otherwise. I’ve never had anyone who belonged only to me the way you do, Addison. I thought you were going to tell me you didn’t want to go through with it, and I wasn’t sure I would’ve survived that.”
“I’d never do that to you. Never, ever.”
Relieved and more in love with her than I’ve ever been before, I kiss her and wipe away the remaining tears. “Tell me about your mom. Tell me what you remember. I want to know everything.”
She relaxes against me and begins to share her memories.
Chapter 8
The carbonara smells delicious, but then again, anything that involves bacon gets my vote. I’m super lucky, o
r so all my female friends tell me, that I can literally eat anything and not gain a pound. I’ve always wondered if good metabolism runs in my family. Because I was adopted, that’s one of many things I don’t know. While I love that I can eat anything I want without gaining weight, I wish I had the lush curves Natalie and Addie have. What I wouldn’t give for bigger boobs and a little bit of booty.
My figure has been described as “boyish,” which is hardly a compliment, especially when you’re trying to attract the interest of a total stud like Emmett. Though I’ve seen ample proof of his attraction to me, I’m insecure enough about my lack of curves to wonder if I can be what he wants or needs.
He says he’ll give me one night.
I want much so more than that with him.
My phone buzzes with a text from a number I don’t recognize. I miss you. I wish you’d give me another chance.
Who is this? I ask, even as I have a sneaking suspicion that I know.
Tom.
Ugh! I blocked him weeks ago, which is why he’s using another number. I told you to stop contacting me. I’m not interested.
You never gave me a chance.
Block.
I met him on Tinder the first week I was in town and went out with him twice. I made the huge mistake of sleeping with him the second time, although we didn’t exactly sleep. We went back to my place and fucked once. Afterward, I asked him to leave, regretting that I’d given in to a minor freak-out about being in an all-new city with a high-pressure job that I didn’t want to fuck up. Stupid.
And now he won’t go away or leave me alone.
I hear the shower go off in Emmett’s bedroom and try not to think about him wet and sexy as I tend to dinner. It occurs to me that if he hadn’t gotten hurt the night before, I wouldn’t even be here. I raise my wineglass in a silent toast to the gift basket Annie sent, giving thanks to the boys who wounded Emmett and gave me this chance with him. Not that I want him to be hurt, because I don’t. But I’m not one to look a gift horse in the bruised dick.
My phone buzzes with another text, and my heart stops for a second until I see that it’s from Nat.
