by Jen Doyle
Except, well, three of them had, back in that shed, which was still something Deke didn’t like to think about. But think about it he did, and the thought that came to mind was, if he’d been her boyfriend at the time, he might have killed them. Whether they actually hurt her or not, he would have killed them dead.
Considering how incensed the whole idea made him as her friend, if he were her boyfriend now? He still might.
Of course he wasn’t her boyfriend, and they were still just friends, it was just that now they were friends who had slept with each other multiple times.
“Where on earth did you just go?” she said, staring at him while she snuggled up against his chest.
“Nowhere.” Which wasn’t true, of course, and her eyes narrowed, a clear sign she was aware of that fact. It was a little strange, in fact. Women tended to like the way he made them feel, in bed for sure and sometimes out of it. But that was about as intimate as it got. This was actually a little disconcerting.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” she said, while being obviously not so. “Is that man-slut speak for ‘I’ve been inside your body every which way, but God forbid I let you into my head’?”
“Man-slut?” He sat up straight, which of course meant she was also now sitting up straight, little beads of water racing their way down from her shoulders to those damn perfect...
No. He was not going to get distracted yet again. Not when she was insulting him like that. No way in hell.
Her hands went to her hips, which wasn’t helping one freaking bit. And then she leaned forward, and since she was straddling his legs, it meant that perfect, tight little bead of a nipple was right where he could—
She stuck her hands in his hair and tilted his head so he had no choice but to look up.
“Well?” she demanded. But then her eyes and voice went soft. “Where did you go?”
He couldn’t lie to her, but at the same, he knew exactly how she’d react to what he was actually thinking, so instead he wrapped his arms around her and held her, something he’d been aching to do for the last three weeks. God, he liked the way she felt up against him, all naked and perfect. Then he closed his eyes and leaned back again, bringing her with him and tucking her head against his shoulder, as he said, “Us man-sluts like to chill after sex, not engage in conversation.”
Her body went tense at that. “Sorry,” she said, her finger tracing the line of his collarbone. “That just came out.”
Shifting a little as her tongue took the place of her finger, he said, “No offense taken. I mean, the fact that I gave you your first three screaming orgasms doesn’t give me special status or anything.”
She laughed. “How do you know you gave me my first three? Who’s to say I’m not as good with my hands as you are?”
Okay. No mistaking his reaction to that one. “I am more than happy to help you confirm that statement,” he murmured, trying to contain his groan as she rubbed all that nice, wet heat up against his dick. And when she started nibbling and sucking at the base of his neck...? Damn. “You are really good at this for a newbie.”
She stopped abruptly and sat up again. Then she smacked him on the shoulder.
“Ouch!” he said, not at all softly. She’d sure been spending a lot of time hitting him lately and he had to admit, he wasn’t overly fond of it. Not when it was because she was pissed at him for whatever this new reason was. “What the fuck, Fitz? If you want to take it there I’m down with it, but could you give me a little warning first?”
“Why do you do that?” she asked.
As if he had any clue what she was talking about. “Do what?”
Frowning, she reached for a towel. “Change the subject.”
For Christ’s sake. “You’re the one giving me a freaking hickey and rubbing up all over me. How am I the one changing the subject?”
She frowned again.
With a deep sigh, Deke leaned back against the cool rim of the tub and rested his arms along the sides. She’d crucify him if he brought up Butler and the shed again, so he didn’t. But it might’ve been better if he had, because instead, lulled into his usual comfort zone around her, he came out and said, “I was thinking about what would happen if I were actually your boyfriend.” Meaning he’d have license to beat up anyone who even looked at her funny. An important distinction, though one he couldn’t mention.
“What?” She was up and out of the tub so fast he didn’t have a chance to see any of the good parts.
“Jesus Christ, Fitz,” he said, irritated as she wrapped a towel around herself, her back to him as if he hadn’t just licked every inch of her skin. “I don’t know what those other two guys were like, but if you push me to answer a question, then I’m gonna freaking do it. You know that about me. Or would you rather I revert to freaking man-slut status?” He reached over to grab a towel for himself. “Not that that was offensive, by the way.”
“I said I was sorry,” she said, with enough of a pause to show she actually was.
So much so she seemed unable to look at him as he got out and wrapped his own towel around his waist.
“It’s...” She turned to the sink and reached for a washcloth. “It’s nothing personal.” Her eyes caught his in the mirror for the briefest of seconds before she looked back down. “I don’t want a boyfriend. Ever. That’s not for me at all. I just don’t believe in falling in love. That whole happy ending thing.”
Leaning back against the wall, he crossed his arms to watch her run a washcloth under the faucet, not sure he’d heard her right. As she ran it over her face to wipe off whatever makeup they hadn’t already worn away, he said, “Come again?”
She shrugged. Then she went back to the face washing. “I mean, think about it. Lola and Dave? Jules and Jeremiah? Ella and, well, whoever it was she almost got engaged to back in law school?” She shook her head. “I wish Nate and Dorie all the best, but what are the odds of them actually working out?”
What the fuck?
“A hundred percent,” Deke answered. Okay, yes, Lola’s story was not the one anyone wanted. And Deke was now firmly in the Jeremiah Is A Dick camp. Jules was better off without the guy. But Deke believed wholeheartedly that kind of love was possible. Both sets of his grandparents had been married over fifty years, and his parents had just hit forty. “Angel...”
Putting the washcloth down and turning to him, Fitz glared. “Don’t ‘Angel’ me.” She took another towel and used it to dry her hair. “I love them both to death and I think they’re great together.” She rolled her eyes. “Okay, fine. You’re right. Even I think they’ll probably make it.” She shook her head. “But odds are I’m either Mama Gin, who gets left with three kids to raise all on her own, or my own mom, who either finds out after the fact she was the other woman, or who knew it all along. I don’t like either of those options.” She hung the towel to dry. “Not that there are any guys beating down my door, so it’s a moot point anyway.”
First of all, the idea of any guy other than him beating down her door wasn’t one Deke could handle at the moment. Not without admitting to a streak of jealousy so fierce it was frightening. Second of all, though... Did she not see herself ever falling in love? Did she not even want to? How in the hell had she gotten that one past him, too?
“So you don’t see yourself five years from now presiding over trivia night at the bar while I’m home taking care of our babies?”
Holy shit, he did not just say that.
She let out a bark of a laugh. “Not even close.” Then she looked at him and her eyes went wide. “You’re joking, right? Oh, my God, please tell me you’re joking.” She turned her back on him and left the bathroom, leaving him to stare after her.
“Of course I’m joking!” he called out, after he’d managed to get his senses back.
And since now he did have his senses back, he could admit, yes
, she had a valid point about Mama Gin and her own mom. Things weren’t black and white, though. There were eight billion shades of gray out there in the world and a whole hell of a lot of other permutations. Plus, she’d never even so much as asked Mama Gin about her father. Maybe there was more to the story than what she knew. He pushed himself off the wall and followed after her.
By the time he came back into the bedroom, she had on her camisole and was buttoning up her pants. Although he should probably leave it alone, he said, “Did it ever occur to you there was maybe another side to the whole thing with your dad?”
Deke had been four, maybe five years old when Nate’s father left, but he was pretty sure it hadn’t been the happiest of marriages. And, yeah, even before he’d known the term or heard it from the rest of Inspiration for years after the fact, he’d known the man was an alcoholic. Deke had lived it, but he’d been so young that there were very few memories. Of those there were, however, they ranged from the laughter he’d remembered to fits of anger that, unlike the story Deke had told Fitz about their fathers, he’d never joke about. Even at that age he and Nate had known what lines not to cross.
As long as he was bringing it up, however... “Did he ever tell you why you guys were heading into Inspiration that night? He had to know there’d be people who wouldn’t be too happy to see him, so he must have had a reason, right?”
Fitz’s head jerked up. “What?”
Coming all the way into the room, Deke sat down on the edge of the bed. “I mean, there’s twelve steps. Making amends is a big one.”
She went a little pale.
Given how she’d responded when he’d asked her about talking to Mama Gin about her father, he held back from saying the words that came to mind, which were, Please, God, tell me you’ve thought about this at least once in your life.
But from the way the color drained out of her face and she said, “You think he was...? Do you think he was going to...?”
Holy fuck. She hadn’t. She truly had locked all of these things away. Little boxes marked Things Never To Think About and with the keys nowhere to be found.
Jesus. He reached out and gathered her into his arms as she looked up at him, tears forming and spilling over from her eyes. “If he was coming back to see them... That’s... That’s just so much sadder.”
Yeah, it was. It really fucking was.
He took hold of her hips and tugged her toward him until she was standing between his legs. Well, fucking Christ. His intention hadn’t been to make her feel worse. Nice one, asshole.
“Stay here tonight.” He couldn’t let her leave like this. He’d wanted her to stay even before this conversation. Now? No question.
She wiped her eyes as she let him pull her in closer. She even gave a little laugh. “Right. And we’re going to say what, exactly, when Nate bangs down the door first thing in the morning?”
Yeah, they were skating on razor thin ice. At the moment, though, Deke didn’t give a shit. “He knows you’re locked out of the suite and with me.” Plus, since it was three in the morning and no one had banged down the door yet, Deke figured they’d be safe for the rest of the night. “Use my phone to text Dorie. Tell her you’re crashing here.”
She cocked an eyebrow.
Sensing she was willing to go with it but needed a nudge in the right direction, he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her all the way in. Close enough for him to nestle his head in her chest—okay, so that part was for him—while he brought one hand up to play with her breast. “Tell her I had plans for breakfast but you’ll be back first thing.”
Well, fuck, if he had the reputation he may as well use it to his advantage. If Nate thought he was meeting up with some other woman in the morning, then even if the man did suspect something, it would make him think twice. At least, Deke hoped Nate would. It wasn’t Deke’s first choice to deceive his friend, but this was one of those cases where protecting someone was more important than telling the truth. Of course Nate would flat-out kill him when he found out, so whether he was protecting Nate or himself was the question.
When Fitz hesitated, however, he realized he was actually worried maybe Fitz wasn’t entirely certain. At least that’s probably why he sounded a little too sharp when he added, “You know they’ll believe you.”
Except that wasn’t the case. When she tilted his head up it was clear from the look in her eyes she was thinking more about him. “You are so much more than that,” she said, laying a soft kiss first below his right eye and then his left. “I may not be in the market for a boyfriend,” she said, echoing his thoughts a little too closely for comfort. “But I don’t doubt you’d be a great one.”
Then, as if they did this every night, she pushed him backward so he was lying down on the bed, and crawled up over him. “Okay, lover boy, it’s time to go to sleep.” She rested her head on his chest. “Can I borrow something to sleep in?”
Now they were talking. “Absolutely freaking not.”
Chapter Nineteen
Deke, as it turned out, was a snuggler. To her complete surprise, Fitz was, too. It hadn’t been an option with the other two guys she’d been with—one had roommates, one still lived with his mom and she was so not going there—so she’d never really thought about it. If she had, she probably would have said that, after the whole sex thing, she’d want her space back. Her body back. It was something physical, as far as she was concerned. To give more of herself than that was too dangerous; overnights came a little too close to that kind of connection. But Deke was different. He already had a huge part of her, so that road had already been traveled.
Plus, she couldn’t get enough of touching him. She wanted her legs tangled up in his and his arms around her. God, even first thing in the morning he was perfect. He tasted like coffee and cream and the feel of him against her, hard in all the places she was soft, had her aching for more.
“Babe,” he mumbled, pulling her closer as he rolled over, not fully awake.
Which was fine. Perfect. It gave her some time to properly appreciate him, something she hadn’t had the opportunity to do last night. She’d been too overwhelmed by the raw sensation of it all for the beauty of him to sink in. He was beyond magnificent to look at. She was compelled to reach out and run her hand over all that sumptuous skin, although she didn’t want to wake him. She wanted to savor what had happened, not talk about it. Yet when he cupped his hand around the back of her neck and drew her into a hungry kiss, she couldn’t help but respond.
“What time is it?” he eventually murmured.
With reluctance, she lifted her head, saw the time on the bedside clock, and nearly jumped straight up in the air. Eleven a.m.? She never slept this late.
Shit. Shit, shit, shit. She had her interview with Sam at eleven thirty.
Scrambling for her clothes, she couldn’t help but glare at Deke as he chuckled and turned over so that he was now lying on his stomach, head resting on his hands no doubt in preparation to go back to sleep. She was tempted to smack his lazy ass and make him get out of bed, but then there was the potential of him wanting to talk through what had happened between them, something she very much wanted to avoid. Not that they shouldn’t be talking it through. As big deals went, having sex with one of your best friends definitely had the potential to be up there, especially when it had already happened once and you’d assured yourself it wouldn’t ever happen again. But despite his whole staying home with the babies comment, so far so good.
Also a plus was that she didn’t need to explain where she was going. Since her destination happened to be Sam’s hotel room, that was definitely a good thing. According to Doug, the reason she was meeting Sam there was that he hadn’t even officially announced the foundation, so it was still all in top secret mode. Also a good thing, as far as she was concerned.
Oh, and thank God her key card had been p
ushed under the door along with a note from Dorie. You missed our run but I’ll forgive you—if you provide details.
Ha. Not on her life.
Fitz flew upstairs for the quickest shower in the history of man, set a personal record for getting dressed and took the stairs rather than the elevator because Sam’s suite was two floors below hers and it was faster that way. Tucking her portfolio under her arm, she knocked on the door.
Sam’s assistant opened the door, a polite smile on her face that evaporated the second she saw who it was. “Fitz?” Then she smiled broadly as she pulled the door all the way open. “What an incredible pleasure it is to see you here.”
“Hi, Hannah.” Fitz knew Sam because he had been Nate’s friend long before he’d been Nate’s boss. But she knew Hannah because they’d worked on several events together over the years thanks to Fitz’s job. Getting that response from someone she knew on a purely professional basis was not a bad sign at all.
“Sam will be up in two minutes. He’s actually having brunch with Nate right now,” Hannah said, pouring Fitz an unsweetened iced tea without even asking.
Oh, hell. Trying to keep her smile calm and serene, Fitz asked, “Will Nate be here, too?”
“No, dear.” Hannah’s eyes lit up with her smile. “Sam wanted to see for himself who our mystery candidate was before letting any of the investors know.” At the sound of the key card on the door the other woman smiled again. “He’s been dreading it a little bit, I’m sorry to say. But this is going to be a wonderful surprise.”
Fitz certainly hoped so. She wasn’t entirely sure since Sam came to a sudden stop right inside the door, a look of confusion on his face. And then came a big smile. “Well, what do you know,” he murmured. “Never in my life did I peg ‘Jane’ as Fitz Hawkins.”
“Jane?” Fitz asked, puzzled, as she took a seat on one of the couches at Sam’s invitation to do so. She sure as hell hoped it had been her portfolio they’d looked at. Then again, even if it wasn’t, her foot was in the door and she wasn’t about to let them push it out.
