Finding Solace: A Small Town Second Chance Romance

by S. L. Scott

  The screen door slams closed between us, and she turns, surprised to see me on the other side. “Are you coming in?”

  I want to so badly. So badly that I doubt myself for not taking what I want. I can’t, though. Not with her. She means too much. She’s the only one who can hurt me. Again. Instead, I sigh and look down. “I think I should go home.”

  Disappointment takes over her features, disappointment shaping her expression. “Why?”

  “Because as much as I want to be with you, I don’t want some weird thing between us. I want us kissing and laughing, making love because it feels good and because it’s what we both want. So maybe we call it a night tonight?”

  “That’s probably best.”

  “Good night, Delilah. It was good to spend time with you again.”

  “Good night.”

  I head down the steps, though not in a hurry.

  “Jason?” Looking back over my shoulder, I wait to hear what she has to say, every word from her too important to miss. “It was good to spend time with you, too. Maybe we can do it again before you leave town.”

  Leave town. When is that? It’s something I need to consider. “I’d like that.” I start walking again, sticks and dried leaves crunching under my feet as I cross the lawn again. I should probably get dressed before driving home. “And hey, let Shelby know you won the bet.”

  “I will.” Gentle laughter filters to my ears. “If I won, why do I feel like I lost?”

  I’m trying to do right by her. Read her body language and between the lines of what she says. Respect her and some bet she made with her sister. But I’m letting her down by not ravaging her good and proper. Women are complicated.

  Dropping my clothes and the blanket into the bed of the truck, I turn back. Analyzing that body now, I see all the signs I need. Fuck my stance. Fuck her bet. Fuck. She still owns me after all these years. I turn around and cross that lawn like my feet are on fire and get the distinct pleasure of her smile again.

  I swing the screen door wide open and step inside until I hear her breath catch, and her eyes go wild with anticipation. “You’re so going to lose that bet.” Capturing her chin between my fingers, I kiss her. This time, I leave no doubt about my intentions for the night. And by how she’s kissing me while dragging me toward the bedroom, she leaves none for me either.

  11

  Jason

  The lamp crashes to the floor, the light bulb flashing before going out. I bump my knee on a table, and my big toe hits something metal. My lips leave hers as I bounce on one foot. “Fuck.”

  Delilah’s arms are still around my neck, but her lips leave my face, and she giggles. “Sorry about that. I’ve moved things around since you were last here.”

  Looking over her shoulder into the living room, I find enough light from the kitchen to take stock of the room. It’s a bad habit I’d like to break, but living like I did, it’s one I needed. Even in the dark, especially in the dark, I always need to know my escape route, or I could be killed. There’s a clear path to the back door if the chair is pushed in.

  She turns my chin with her finger. “Hey, remember me?”

  Who needs lamps when her smile lights up the room? I tighten my hands around her waist, liking the feel of our bodies pressed together too much to let her go. “I remember. I remember everything.”

  “Then where’d you go? I lost you.”

  The other meaning cracks my heart just enough to feel the ache. “I’m right here.” Tucking some of her wet hair back from her face, I say, “I’m right here with you.” Her body is cold, the air in the house chilling us both. I bring her to me, as close as I can hold her, and kiss her on the head. “You’re going to get a cold. Maybe we should detour to the shower for a warm-up.”

  Tilting her head back, she can land a solid smirk herself. “A warm-up like foreplay or to actually warm up?”

  “Both.”

  I will never get enough of her smile. I’m warmer by being at the receiving end of it, so I mentally add it to the list of things I missed about her.

  “I’ll get the water going. It takes forever to heat,” she replies.

  Just as she turns to leave, I catch her by the wrist. When she turns back expectantly, I ask, “What do you want me to do?”

  Slipping her wrist from my grasp, her hand replaces it. “Come with me.”

  I follow her down the hall and up the stairs, stairs I remember climbing a million times when we were teenagers. We were only allowed in her bedroom with the door wide open, and if we got too quiet, her dad would start asking questions.

  “What’s the capital of Montana?”

  “Helena.”

  “Do penguins have knees?”

  “Yes.”

  If we missed one, he put us to work outside. Honestly, he was a smart man when it came to dealing with horny teenagers.

  When Delilah reaches the top landing, she stops and turns around. Standing eye level with me, she holds my face in her hands, and as if someone might hear, she whispers, “I don’t know what we’re doing, but can we take it slow?”

  Taking hold of her hips, I kiss her gently. “I’m in no rush to reach the end of this night.”

  “I don’t only mean tonight. I mean, I guess we kind of know what’s about to happen, and I want that with you. I do. I’m just worried about tomorrow.”

  I kiss her again, slower this time, casually reacquainting our lips. “Let’s leave our cares for tomorrow and enjoy tonight. Just a little time to feel good.” I can’t ask for more. She deserves someone better, someone with a clear conscience and clean soul. But as I’m kissing her, I let the dark win because if I can have this chance, one last time to be with her, I’ll greedily take it.

  “You always did make it sound so easy.”

  “We don’t have to make it hard either.”

  She embraces me, and her mouth is to my ear when she whispers, “We’ll leave our worries for another day.” A kiss is left behind when she walks down the hall to the bathroom.

  I’m still gripping the railings like my life depends on it because no matter how convinced she is about tonight, I can’t convince myself that it will be smooth sailing tomorrow.

  She’s the same woman I’ve been thinking about since the day we broke up. No one in the years since has come close. But here I am about to take a shower with her like I can walk away tomorrow not being utterly changed by merely being in her presence. Fuck.

  It doesn’t matter. I’m already walking down that hallway, every creaky floorboard announcing my approach, and pushing open the bathroom door. She’s standing there in the glow of candlelight with a towel wrapped around her and her hand hanging under the water. Her blue eyes remind me of a pool in the summertime. She’s giving me so much trust in this one exchange.

  I can’t screw this up.

  I can’t screw her over.

  I can’t take walking away from her the same way it played out last time.

  If only for tonight, I have to be everything. All in. For her and for me.

  Moving into the small space, I get in hers. I lower my gaze as I grip the top of the towel to unwrap her like a present.

  “I’m nervous,” she says.

  My eyes find hers again, and I smile to reassure her. “Don’t be.”

  Holding the towel open, I study her bare body. Every curve and shadow draws me in, her body pure perfection. The fullness of her breasts mixes with the familiar dip from her waist to her hips. The silkiness of her skin covers her feminine softness. “You’re beautiful, Delilah.”

  A heavy breath is exhaled, and relief filters through her. “Thank you.”

  Her reaction is unusual. She’s always been a stunning girl. She turned the heads of all the guys at school. Yet before me now is a woman who needs reassurance. In the back of my mind, I know Cutler hit her, but did he beat her self-esteem down too? Fucker. How could he do that?

  Why did he do it?

  I doubt one night will undo the damage, but if I can give h
er a reprieve from her battered heart, I will. I hang the towel on the hook behind me and take down my boxers while she watches. I understand the nerves. It’s been a long time since we’ve been together, but as we’re standing here, it’s starting to feel as though we were never apart, and the love we once shared is within reach again.

  Superficially, I like how she looks at me like she’s about to drool. Makes me glad I went to the gym and got a few rounds inside the ring. I took a few blows to my stomach, but my opponent steered clear of my face. I told him I had to look good for tonight.

  As much as I wished to be taking a shower with Delilah, I didn’t actually think it would be happening. Reaching out, I test the water, which has warmed. My gaze roams her body leisurely. That’s when I spot it. “Is that a tattoo?”

  I hear the fast intake of air, and her eyes widen just enough for me to know she’s embarrassed. Her hand covering the delicate skin just above her pubic bone and an inch to the right also tells me that. I’m intrigued, really intrigued, so I lean down for a better look. “What is it?”

  She stops me, grabbing my bicep. “Just pretend you didn’t see it. It was a mistake. A drunken night with my sister during a visit to Manhattan is to blame.” She steps into the tub and under the shower spray, tilting her hips away from me so I can’t see the artwork.

  Following her into the tub, I ask, “Why are you hiding it from me?”

  “Because I can’t explain it without ruining the moment,” she snaps.

  I run my hands over her shoulders, leaving one hand on the side of her neck. “Hey, you can’t ruin this. I want you. You want me. This right here is all good, honeysuckle.”

  After looking away, she takes a deep breath and then exhales. Her head goes up, hiding her face from me, and she huffs. “Fine.” She angles her hips toward me, giving me an open invitation to peruse her body, which I happily do.

  “What is this?” I grin while squatting down. It’s only a number in black and gold—Solace Pointe High School colors. It’s meaningless to anyone else but means everything to me. I run my finger over the number eight and look up.

  The heat from the shower isn’t causing the red that covers her face, but I pretend it is by standing up and adjusting the water to cool us off. “It’s getting steamy in here.” Delilah’s still refusing to look at me, so I lean down to find her gaze. “I think that might be the sexiest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.”

  There’s the smile I adore. The apples of her cheeks are still pink, but at least the tension she was exuding has evaporated. “Do you think I’m crazy?”

  “Yes, but it’s a good kind of crazy.” Moving my hand over the tattoo, I rub a few circles before going a little lower and a bit over.

  “I didn’t know there was a good kind.”

  “There is when it comes to you.” I kiss her lightly on the lips.

  Why am I now nervous?

  I’ve been with women, though it’d be embarrassing to admit how long it’s been. It’s inhumane to go so long without doing something so natural. But I couldn’t afford the distraction during the job I was doing, a job that took an immense amount of attention. I was extremely focused when I worked with no break in my concentration. Too many accidents happened otherwise.

  Delilah’s naked body is before me, reminding me how long it’s been since I laid eyes on such beauty, reminding me she was created to be my undoing. I never get nervous. I was good at my job because I was unshakeable, but this beauty has me anxious, wanting to please her.

  Moving her under the water, I watch as she closes her eyes. I run the back of my hand over her cheek and then continue down her neck and lower. Her chest rises and falls with deepened breaths, her lips part so temptingly that I lean in and kiss them, my tongue connecting with hers. When I pull back, she opens her eyes, the tips of her fingers finally finding my skin. Her bottom lip finds the underside of her teeth while she runs her nails across my chest.

  “Why’d you stop?” she asks.

  “Because I like looking at you.” When a smile crosses those sexy lips, I have an epiphany. “But I think I like kissing you more.” I step closer and take her face in my hands, our lips meeting in the middle. Her nails scrape down my ribs, and I run my hands over her shoulders. Holding her to the side, I reach up and turn the showerhead, so the water warms us against the cold tile.

  She’s not just beauty, but brains, though I have no idea if she’s lost her better senses since she let me back in her life. I may have loved her, but I never deserved her.

  I was once naïve enough to believe we’d have it all if we were together. But like our love once did, that organ in my chest had died. At least I thought it had. But being with her again makes me feel alive again.

  Leaning my head against hers, I close my eyes and breathe her in. “What’s happening?” I ask, my voice competing with the falling water.

  Her hands run over my shoulders and up my neck. A kiss to my chin, my jaw, my cheek, and finally my lips. “I don’t know, but . . .” With drops dripping from my hair onto her face, she peers up into my eyes. “I’ve not felt this good in so long, so don’t worry about me, or the past. Just kiss me again.”

  I do. I kiss her, covering her mouth with mine and drinking her in until a giggle bursts free from her.

  “What are you laughing about?” I ask.

  Shyness creeps in. Yep. We’re naked in the shower together, and now she’s shy . . . go figure. I laugh this time. “This. Us. It’s like years ago in the best of ways.”

  “Yeah, I remember all those nights in the bed of the truck, in the field that time we had no other choice, and in my house.” I take her hands and bring them to my lips while keeping my eyes on hers. “You’re gorgeous, inside and out. If it’s okay, I’m going to kiss you everywhere tonight.”

  Pink creeps up her chest and settles on her cheeks. She starts to raise her hands to cover herself, but I kneel in front of her instead while holding them at her sides.

  “Everywhere?”

  I swear I hear her gulp. “Everywhere.”

  “I’m, um . . . uh . . . I don’t know.” Her voice pitches.

  “Shh.” I hold her still while kissing the apex of her thighs.

  “Okay.” She’s breathy when she speaks, and I hear the back of her head hit the tile. Determined fingers weave into my hair and tighten. When I peek up, she says, “Don’t look at me like that.”

  “Like what?” I ask, smiling.

  Her thighs clench together. “Like . . . like . . . like you want to eat me.”

  “I do want to eat you.”

  She sucks in a breath, and another giggle exhales from her mixed with a delirious laugh. Her tits also look amazing. “What’s so funny?”

  “You. You’re staring at my girl parts.”

  “Girl parts?” Scrunching my brow together, I stand, resting my hand above her on the tile. Searching her eyes for any indication that this isn’t the first time she’s had sex since . . . I don’t want to think about him, but I have no idea how long she’s been separated and then divorced. Surely, she’s dated since . . .

  “I’m not a guy who needs to know all the gory sexual details, but let me ask you something. When was the last time you were with someone?”

  “It’s never been like that for me.”

  “Like what?”

  Her gaze falls to the tub, and the strength in her voice goes right with it. I hate that she feels weak at a time when she should feel empowered. She’s amazing. Has she forgotten? She whispers, “I’ve only been with two people, and you’re one of them.” This time, her hands find my cheek, and the day’s beard growth must feel rough under her soft touch. “You always saw me so differently from who I am.”

  “I saw who you really were. Not Douglas Noelle’s daughter. Not Jason Koster’s girlfriend. Not the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen even though you were. And are. No. I always saw Delilah Rae Noelle. She’s the girl I would make the world spin backward if I could just to get another chance to spend t
ime with her. You’re magnificent.”

  Looking up under a wave of dark lashes, she’s timid when she asks, “That was then. What am I now?”

  “What did he do to you?”

  “Jason?”

  “Yeah?”

  “We’re naked in the shower, and the water’s running cold. Maybe we can finish this talk another time. Tonight, I want to be the girl you always remembered me to be.”

  “I don’t need that girl when I have the woman before me.” I follow up with a kiss on the tip of her nose.

  She raises her arms into the air, and says, “You missed a spot.” The weight of our worries lifts, and the playfulness returns. Happy to kiss that spot, I caress her breasts and kiss her neck. Her body vibrates as she laughs, then she adds, “We should really hurry this along before the water’s freezing.” I rub my body against hers, soaping myself up.

  When she dips her soapy hands and takes hold of my erection, I waver, my eyes wanting to close, to savor, to just feel. “God, that feels so good.”

  “Wait until I remind you what I can do with my tongue.”

  I hit the knob to turn the water off and yank the towels from the shower rod. I don’t see the rod falling, but the top of my head catches it. “Fuck.”

  “Oh, no!” Under the plastic curtain, she finds me and rubs my head. “I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”

  “I’ll live.” With a giant bump, but I will.

  “I’ve been meaning to secure it. It’s not the first time it’s fallen.” She’s all over me, kissing my shoulder and still rubbing my head.

  With the curtain still engulfing us, I pull her hands down and look into her worried eyes. “I’m okay, and I’ll fix it before I leave.”

  The concern trapped in her brow eases, and a smile appears. Leaning down and kissing my forehead, she says, “I’d like that. Hopefully that’s not until morning, though.”

  “I’m hoping for at least midday.” Now I’m smiling and it’s probably too big, but I don’t care. Taking her by the waist, I pull her close while pushing the curtain away.