by J. H. Croix
“If I need to apologize for Sharon hitting on me, I’ll do it as much as I need to.”
Her cheeks went a little pink, and she shook her head. “It's okay, it was seven years ago. You weren't the only guy she made a move on. She was kind of busy.”
“Busy? Is that what you call it?”
“I don't know what to call it. We didn't stay friends. I don't know if we really were friends to begin with.”
I nodded because there wasn’t much else to offer on that.
“Anyway, here you are, on my turf now.” She lifted her chin slightly, a saucy look in her eyes.
“I guess I am.”
“Are you staying in Willow Brook?”
I really wanted to know the answer to that question, and I didn't want to think too much about why. The very girl who’d consumed my thoughts off and on over the years was sitting right here in front of me.
“For now,” I said honestly because now was all we had. “Tell me about your life, Mae.”
“Tell me what you remember.” Her eyes narrowed.
I didn't mind meeting the challenge because I remembered a lot about Mae. She was smart and really into biology and the environment. “Let me guess. You went into some kind of science career.”
Her mouth dropped open before she snapped it shut, pressing her lips together tightly. “How do you know that?” she finally asked.
“Because we met in that environmental sciences class. You loved it. I mean, you really loved it.”
She rolled her eyes. “I did. Is that so bad?”
“Not at all. I thought it was great. It's good to be passionate about something. So, tell me what you do now?”
“Well, I did go into environmental science with a focus on oceans. I grew up around fishing, and Alaska is, at least in North America, ground zero for climate change. I took a position at a university in Anchorage.”
“That sounds perfect for you. It doesn't surprise me.”
“You ended up becoming a hotshot firefighter.”
“Does that surprise you?”
Her cheeks went pink as she shook her head. “No, you were into outdoorsy stuff. That's a great career for that. You get to be outdoors a lot.”
I nodded. “Winter’s a quiet time. That's good, though. We work our asses off during fire season, so having some downtime is pretty important.”
We chatted a bit more about mundane life stuff, and it was really nice to spend time with Mae. Not that I’d forgotten, but it was a reminder of why I liked her before. She had a subtle, sly sense of humor underlaid with a sweetness. I recalled how nervous I’d been to ask her out after we’d been friends and the sheer relief that she’d wanted the same thing. We'd never gotten past a few kisses, though.
Somewhere in that conversation, I discovered she was hoarding the last season of Schitt’s Creek. “You haven't seen it?” I asked, incredulous.
“No, because then I'll watch it, and it'll be over,” she insisted.
“Then you can watch the whole show again. Come on, we should start it.”
“We should?” She eyed me dubiously, and I wanted to kiss her.
“Yes,” I insisted. “Do you have Netflix?”
“Of course, I do.”
“Come on, Mae. I love that show. I want to see it with you.”
“All right, let me make some more hot chocolate.”
And, that was how I found myself sitting on her couch with the original reason for leaving my apartment completely forgotten because hanging out with Mae in the time warp of her grandmother's house was exactly where I wanted to be.
Three episodes later, Mae’s feet were curled up under her knees and her scent was drifting to me. She smelled sweet, kind of like vanilla. And, fuck me, I wanted to kiss her all over again.
Glancing over at her, I asked, “What would it take to get you to go to dinner with me?”
“We just had hot chocolate and watched three episodes of Schitt’s Creek. I think that's more than dinner,” she said, a subtle laugh lacing her words.
Angling to face her, I nodded. “We did, but I still want to take you to dinner.”
“You know how small this town is, right?” she prompted.
“Yeah,” I said slowly. “Is that a problem?”
“I don't know. Gossip is probably harder to put out here than those fires you fight in the summer,” she said bluntly.
I threw my head back with a laugh. Our empty mugs sat on the coffee table. Her stomach growled, and she slapped her hand over it. I grinned. “Maybe we should order pizza.”
“Then we have to go get it,” she pointed out.
“No, we can get it delivered.”
“We can?” She seemed shocked at this.
“Yeah, of course we can.”
“Oh, my god,” she breathed. “Willow Brook never had delivery when I was growing up here.”
“Well, the pizza place delivers. I can guarantee it. They've come to my place, which is just down the street.”
Chapter Eight
Rowan
We ordered pizza, and the only downside was it was going to be a whole hour before it’d be here because there was a snowstorm and they were backed up. A big snowstorm was money time for the pizza delivery business.
After I ordered, I was in the kitchen where Mae had sent me to get a glass of water when she went to the bathroom. I had just set my phone on the counter when she stopped in the archway.
“Well?”
“Well, what?”
She narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips. She was too fucking cute. I’d fallen for Mae in college for lots of reasons, and everything about her now felt as if it was in sharper focus.
“Did you order the pizza, or were they closed?”
“Of course, they're not closed. As far as I can tell, nothing closes here when it snows. You should know. You're the one who grew up in Alaska.”
Mae let out a throaty laugh, and lust sizzled like lightning through my body. She took a few more steps into the kitchen, resting her hips against the counter and curling her hands on the edge beside her hips. “That’s true. Nothing does close around here, but I’ve been away long enough I forgot. What are winters like in the mountains in North Carolina?”
“We get snow and ice. But it doesn't get as cold as here. You lived through some winters in North Carolina.”
“Not in the mountains,” Mae countered. “Chapel Hill isn't exactly cold.”
I grinned as I crossed over to her. “No, it's not.” Stopping in front of her, I lifted a hand and caught a lock of hair dangling on her cheek. I let it slide, soft and silky, through my fingers.
The little hitch in her breath sent another sizzle through my body. I decided this time I would ask because I needed to know. I wasn't just being impulsive.
“I'd like to kiss you.” Her breath caught in her throat again before she swallowed. “What do you think about that?”
Mae’s ginger eyes blinked. “About you kissing me?” she returned in a husky whisper.
“Yes.”
When she took a breath this time, her breasts brushed against my chest. “Okay.”
I started to lean forward, and then she placed her palm over my chest. My heart lunged, thudding against the heat of her touch.
Chapter Nine
Mae
“Why do you want to kiss me?” I heard myself asking.
My mind silently volleyed a question back at me. Really? You're going to ruin Rowan wanting to kiss you?
Well, yeah, I was. What we’d had before loomed large in my memory—the intensity of my crush on him when we were friends, and my worries he didn’t return the feeling followed by sheer joy upon learning he did. A few hot kisses and then feeling as if life had thrown a boulder at me. Emotionally, that is. I’d been crushed and ashamed and hadn’t known how to climb out from under the weight of what happened that fated night. No matter how many times I tried to remind myself Rowan had nothing to do with it, he was entwined in the dark memory because he
was the reason I’d been there that night.
I opened my mouth to clarify, but he beat me to it.
“Because I want to kiss you. So, so much. You’re the only person I’ve wanted to kiss in a long time, and I want this chance with you.”
“What does that mean?” I pressed. I hated the vulnerability rising swiftly inside me. I hoped it didn't show in my voice and on my face.
“Just that you're the only girl I want to kiss, and I’m not about to let you slip away again. I won’t rush, but I don’t think I’m alone in how I feel. Am I? Just tell me if I am.”
I stared into his green eyes, my heart hammering in my chest and desire rushing through me. “You’re not,” I whispered, the words slipping out before my defenses could stop them.
“Okay?”
I swallowed and nodded. The next few seconds felt interminable because my impatience had me nearly vibrating. Whether he sensed my restless need or not, he took his sweet time. He caught that loose lock of hair again, spinning it around his fingers and tucking it behind my ear. His calloused fingertips brushed along my sensitive skin, and goose bumps rose in a prickling rush with a hot shiver chasing down my spine.
His hand slid over the curve of my shoulder and then down around my waist as he stepped closer. His palm came flat against my back, just above the dip of my waist. He took another step, and then I could feel the heat of him from head to toe. He palmed my cheek with his free hand, his thumb sliding across my bottom lip. I almost let out a sob of impatience when his intense green eyes bored into mine. It felt as if he was peeling back all of my layers and exposing me. And we hadn't even kissed yet.
My belly swooped when he finally dipped his head, and his lips brushed across mine. It felt as if a flame leaped from him to me, binding us together in the scorch of heat.
He didn't hurry. Not at all. After another brush of his lips, he angled my head to the side before he fit his mouth over mine. His tongue finally, finally glided in as I let out a little moan. What started out slow got hot and wild really fast. We burst into flames together, our tongues tangling, our breath mingling, and the heat of him hard against me.
I had no idea how long I clung to him, one arm sliding around his muscled shoulders as my other palm explored the hard planes of his chest. Somewhere along the way, one of us needed air, so we broke free. The sound of our ragged breathing was loud in the quiet kitchen.
Rowan's eyes met mine, and he looked as stunned as I felt. “Mae,” he rasped, his tone almost wondering.
“What?” I whispered.
He shook his head slightly, and I felt the brush of his thumb on the side of my neck, just over the rapid flutter of my pulse. My body felt prickly all over as if I couldn't contain the sensations ricocheting through me. I was slick with need and shifted my thighs, rubbing them together, unconsciously attempting to relieve the ache there. His eyes darkened as he stared at me. Then his mouth was on mine again. We tumbled into kiss after kiss after kiss as we explored each other.
My hand found its way under the hem of his shirt. His skin was hot to the touch, and I sighed when his hand finally brushed over the curve of my belly. I could feel the calloused surface of his palm, a contrast to my skin. He was all hard with rough edges while I felt soft. I was wearing my most comfortable clothes, and I wanted all of them to be thrown free. I cried out at the feel of him cupping my bare breast. My nipples were so tight they hurt when he teased his thumb across one. I could feel his arousal like a brand through his jeans.
He muttered something, and then he was shoving my sweater off. I didn't even know where it fell. All I knew was I needed more. I needed him. I needed everything.
I cried out sharply at the feel of his mouth closing over a nipple. He gave it just enough suction that the sharp pleasure arrowed straight to the core of me, and my pussy clenched. I needed relief badly. I heard him saying something indecipherable, followed by, “Let me take care of you.”
I was frantic for him to take care of me. I couldn't say that because I couldn't form a single word, but I was relieved when he lifted me onto the counter. I felt his hand sliding past the waistband of my cotton pants and delving between my thighs. I was wet, so, so wet. I couldn’t think. I was made of need.
His fingers slipped through my folds, and I was already rocking into him, desperate for something, anything to relieve the pressure. I felt him lift his head. “Mae?”
I rocked into his touch, whimpering.
“Mae?” he repeated.
I finally dragged my eyes open. “Fuck, you're gorgeous,” he murmured, just as he sank two fingers in me. I couldn’t look away from the beam of his gaze, the sound of my heartbeat rushing through me.
I moaned as my channel clenched around him. “Come for me,” he said bluntly. I couldn't do anything except stare as he drew his fingers out and thrust them in again. His thumb swirled around my swollen, slippery wet clit. I clung to him as he fucked me with his fingers. My mind blanked, and I cried out when pleasure ricocheted sharply through me.
My eyes closed, and my forehead fell to the curve of his neck. I breathed him in as sensations rolled through me. He had a crisp musky scent, and I thought I might never forget it.
Chapter Ten
Rowan
Mae had residual tremors running through her, and I could feel the soft gust of her breath against my neck. I breathed her in, absorbing the feel of her all soft in my arms. I was startled at how fast this had spiraled. I just meant to kiss her, but I’d felt her need digging into me like claws, and I wanted to give her that release. I was almost in awe at how raw and unguarded she'd been with me.
After a moment, I felt her lift her head. Although my lids were heavy, I dragged my eyes open. She blinked, her gaze as stunned as mine probably was.
“Oh,” she said.
“That's one way to put it.” Reluctantly, I drew my fingers out of the very heart of her and pulled her cotton underwear back in place. With my other hand, I brushed her mussed hair away from her forehead.
“I didn't mean…” I stopped when she shook her head.
“I don't know what you didn't mean, but I wanted that.” A wash of pink crested high on her cheeks, and my heart contracted in a sweet, aching twist.
We stared at each other in that quiet moment, and something bloomed in the air between us. I didn't know what it was. It felt ephemeral, intense, almost as if I couldn't grab onto it, yet its power shimmered around us.
The doorbell rang, the sound abrupt and snapping through the moment. Mae’s eyes flew wide, her palm flying to her chest.
“They can't see us, Mae. The door’s closed, and we're in the kitchen.” My lips tugged into a smile.
She pressed her lips together and rolled her eyes. “I know, I know. It just startled me. Can you hand me my sweater?”
I reluctantly stepped away from her and fetched her sweater off the floor. Although I was disappointed to see her sweet curves disappear behind her fluffy sweater, she was so freaking cute in it, and I loved that too.
“I'll get the door,” I offered as she shimmied off the counter.
I strode to the sink and washed my hands quickly, snagging a paper towel as I crossed toward the living room. I gave the pizza driver a generous tip because it was snowing like crazy outside. Although I’d plowed Mae’s drive just over an hour ago, several more inches had already collected.
“Road’s okay?” I asked the driver over the swirling wind.
“Of course, man, I'm getting tips like mad,” the guy replied with a lopsided grin.
“Be safe!” I called as he dashed back to his car.
When I returned to the kitchen, Mae announced, “I'll get our dinner when we go out.”
My palm was warm where it rested on the bottom of the box of pizza. “Oh, so that means we're getting dinner together?”
“Yes.” Her lips twitched in barely a smile, and I savored the tinge of pink on her cheeks.
While she got plates out, my memory spun back to our three kisses in
college. Only three, and they'd been that memorable. Those memories felt different and distant now. Everything I was feeling now was something I hadn't felt before. I wanted to take care of her, to wipe away those lingering worries that flitted through her eyes again and again.
We had pizza and watched another episode of Schitt’s Creek. After we finished eating, she opened the front door and peered out. Turning back, she announced, “You can't drive home.”
“I can drive home,” I insisted even though I wanted to stay the night. “Mae, it's not a big deal. I'm three driveways down. I can handle it.”
The thing was, if I stayed here, I wouldn't be able to stop kissing her. I didn't know how I knew, but I knew I couldn't rush it with her.
She fussed and even told me to zip my jacket. I remote started my SUV and then looked down at her. “So when are we having dinner?”
“Friday or Saturday?” she returned. Before I could answer, she added, “Saturday. I might be tired Friday because I have to go into Anchorage every Friday.”
“Well, we don't want you tired,” I teased. She rolled her eyes. “Saturday it is. Give me your number.”
She looked at me for a long moment. “It's the same number I had before. Do you have the same number?”
It had been years, but I did have the same phone number. I slid my phone out of my pocket and pulled up my contacts, scrolling through. My lips curled into a slow smile when I saw her name. Mae T. was all it said.
“It's Townsend,” she said.
I eyed her. “I know that. Do you still have my number on your phone?”
Her cheeks flushed pink, and she turned, snatching her phone off the coffee table. She walked back to me and then looked up with a sheepish smile. “I don’t. I probably deleted it.”
“Ah, something like that,” I said lightly, ignoring the sting on my heart. “Here, I'll text you.”
As soon as the text went through, she tapped it open and added my number to her contacts.
