Wild Love

by Lauren Accardo

  Sydney nodded slowly. “So you’re just waiting.”

  “Yep.” He licked his lips and dropped his gaze to her chest. “At least for the next few weeks. And if Liv doesn’t get custody, I don’t know what happens. If it pans out that way, I’ll be worried for her. I’m not sure she can handle it.”

  The conflict raged in her chest. She admired him for helping a friend, for committing to something so selfless. At the same time, she wanted him to be free of this burden. Free to continue on with his life unfettered.

  “Well.” She cleared her throat. “I guess that’s that.”

  He snorted a laugh. Perhaps her true emotions were more transparent than she thought. “This is exactly why I didn’t want to complicate anything. But I’m not somebody to walk away from my commitments. I said I was going to help Liv get Jay back, and that’s what I’m going to do. I can’t go back on my word. Not now.”

  “See,” she said, “I told you you’re noble. So until the courts make a decision . . .”

  A ripple of tension passed between them. This wasn’t an affair in any conventional sense, and she tried to tell herself they weren’t really hurting anyone. The wrinkles in his brow and at his lips told a different story, and an uneasiness settled into her stomach.

  “We’ll just go one day at a time,” he said. “See how we feel.”

  She swallowed down the lump that had formed in her throat, but it wouldn’t budge. Something between them had shifted, and now, instead of insatiable heat, sadness.

  “I should go,” she said.

  He blinked. “Why?”

  “It’s cold, I have some errands to run, it’s getting late.”

  His jaw tightened. “Don’t run away.”

  “I’m not running away.” Manic laughter belied her words. “I just . . . should go. That’s all. Don’t read too much into it.”

  He withdrew his feet and moved backward, farther into the lean-to. She didn’t want to push him away or shut him out, but the pinched look on his face told her she’d done something like it.

  “Where’s your car?” he asked. “Mine was the only one in the lot when I pulled in this morning.”

  “I parked at the south entrance. It’s a shorter hike, and I didn’t want to be here that long. Just long enough to, um . . .”

  “Make an awkward friendship even more uncomfortable?”

  Her heart leaped into her throat as he sent her a strained half smile. “What? No. I was going to say ‘lick my wounds after my Connor encounter.’ But I guess I, uh, did more than that.”

  He licked his bottom lip and found his ski cap in the dirt, pulling it over his head. Maybe she didn’t know what the lip lick meant after all. Everything she did appeared misguided, and her legs told her to run.

  “Okay, well. I’m going to go.” She stood up, zipped her coat, and waited. She thought he’d stand to meet her, hug her, something. But instead he sat in the dirt and traced lines in the dust. “Bye?”

  “Bye.”

  By the time she rounded the curve in the trail toward the parking lot, the uncertainty she’d experienced last night pummeled her once again. This time, for different reasons entirely.

  Sleeping with Sam was everything she’d wanted. It was just as easy as every other encounter they’d had, with the added pleasure of all her sexual fantasies of him come to life. He was gentle and kind and careful in a way she’d never experienced before. And the mere thought of his hands gripping her naked hips forced a tremor in her legs.

  But the risk was so great. What if Liv found out? What if Sam decided he couldn’t be there for Liv and maintain a relationship with Sydney at the same time? What if a little kid lost his mother because of one stupid moment of bliss in a lean-to? And worst of all, what if she lost herself once again to a man, but this time one who had the all-encompassing power to ruin her?

  * * *

  • • •

  Suds? Let’s call it a night. It’s nearly seven anyway. And we’ve had an okay day.”

  Sydney and Karen didn’t usually close up together, but a large shipment of books had arrived the previous day and Sydney knew the unpacking, shelving, and store closing would go much faster with both of them working.

  Their holiday party five days prior had been a smashing success, but the sales tapered off once again the following day and had been puttering along since. This morning, when Sydney checked the mail, two more overdue notices stared her in the face. The fate of the Loving Page would be decided in a matter of weeks.

  Sydney had spent hours upon hours hunched over a computer, researching the effectiveness of Facebook ads, working Instagram algorithms, and attempting to charm publishers into donating books and swag for giveaways. She’d labored over cute book displays, using every shred of photo skill she possessed to create dynamic content. She worked every angle, promoting and begging and, occasionally, praying. They were still a cool $9,000 away from being safely in the black. The number burned in Sydney’s brain as if she’d had it tattooed there.

  As Karen flipped the lock on the front door, Sydney dragged the boxes of books from the office into the reading nook. As a result of the party, there were now gaping holes in their book stock. The brief moment of optimism wasn’t enough to pull Sydney out of her malaise.

  “Maybe this really won’t work,” she said. And what then? She’d have to leave Pine Ridge, move back to New York, get a job as an associate at a law firm, and go from there. Her throat turned to sandpaper.

  “At least you gave it your best shot,” Karen said.

  Sydney scanned the paperback spines and let her fingers trail over the smooth edges of Sam’s bookshelves. She missed him. She missed him with every molecule in her body, from the core of her insides and radiating outward. He was giving her space again. Whether she wanted it or not.

  “Suds.” Her mother’s quiet voice broke through her thoughts.

  “Mm-hmm?”

  Karen approached, placing a cool hand over Sydney’s. “Why don’t you call him?”

  The panic choked her. “What?”

  “Sam. Why don’t you call him?”

  “What makes you think I haven’t? Why would I need to?” She knew she sounded insane, but her mother was the best at picking up on unspoken cues. Sydney must have given herself away.

  “I see you checking your phone every fifteen seconds, and he hasn’t been in here in two weeks. I told him to be careful how he acted in front of you, but I didn’t think it’d scare him off like this. Did something happen?”

  Sydney released a shaky breath and smoothed down her black cashmere sweater. Maybe she should lie. If the words never left her lips, she didn’t have to worry about being judged for them. She looked at her mother’s wide, honest eyes and knew she couldn’t go through with it.

  “We slept together.”

  She expected a gasp, a yelp, a disgusted clucking of the tongue. Instead, Karen laughed. Her eyes crinkled up behind clumpy mascara lashes and she chuckled loudly, sending her high-pitched laugh bouncing off the store walls.

  “I’m not kidding,” Sydney said.

  “I know that.” Karen grinned at her daughter. “I’m just happy.”

  “Mom, how can you be happy about this? I’m the other woman.”

  “Oh, stop.” Karen flattened her lips and tossed a hand in the air. “The other woman. Sam and Liv haven’t been romantic in years. Everybody knows that.”

  “I don’t get it.” Her voice tightened. “What’s his attachment to her?”

  Karen shrugged. “First of all, there’s the past. She was his first love. And she stepped up when his mom got sick. Liv’s had her highs and lows, but she’s a terrific nurse, and she went above and beyond to make sure Sam’s mom got the best of the best treatment and that Sam had as easy a time as possible with it. You can’t put a value on somethin’ like that, Suds.”

 
; Sydney massaged her forehead and tried to swallow down this new information.

  “Liv’s DUI came pretty shortly after Sam buried his mom,” Karen continued. “And he agreed to help her without a second thought. At that point he’d have done anything for her.”

  The more Karen talked, the smaller Sydney felt. How could she begrudge him for helping a friend like that in her moment of need?

  “The last piece of this puzzle,” Karen said, “is Sam’s dad. Boy, from what I’ve heard, he was a drinker. And his mom, God love her, never stood up to him. So maybe our Sammy is trying to help Liv the way he wished somebody would’ve helped his dad.”

  Sydney licked her lips. Her mother always saw things so clearly. “I guess it’s not as cut-and-dry as I thought.”

  “Nothing in life ever is, kiddo.”

  A prickle of guilt danced across her skin as she remembered her quick exit from the lean-to. His hardened face as she turned away from him. God, what a bitch.

  “He’s a good guy,” Sydney said.

  “One of the best. And anybody with eyes can see you two are hot for each other.”

  “Oh my God.” Sydney collapsed into the little red velvet couch and buried her face in her hands. “Please never ever use that phrase again.”

  “Well, it’s true. I knew if you stayed in town it would happen eventually.” Karen settled next to her on the couch and nudged her daughter’s shoulder. “So. How was it?”

  “Oh my God!” Sydney clutched the ends of her hair. “I might throw up.”

  “Oh, Suds. You’re such a prude.”

  Sydney shook off the question and leaned back on the couch, massaging her eyes. In the past few years she hadn’t kept in close contact with her mother. They exchanged phone calls every now and then, and Karen told her daughter generic stories about the mountains and her shop. Sydney, in exchange, gave her mother platitudes about city life and the ebbs and flows of her relationship with Connor.

  They never touched on anything meaningful. Sydney was convinced her mother was content to be a country bumpkin and wouldn’t understand her sophisticated metropolitan life. What she’d recently found out, however, was that she’d missed out on years of friendship. Some women would kill to be close to their mothers. Sydney had voluntarily pushed hers away.

  “I’m really happy that I’ve gotten to see your life here,” Sydney said.

  Her mother’s cheeks filled with color as she fidgeted. “You’ve been here before.”

  “Yeah, but never like this.” She reached across the couch and grabbed her mother’s cool, steady hand. Always cool and steady. “I’m sorry it took a cheating boyfriend to get me here.”

  Karen cracked a smile and kissed Sydney’s cheek. “I love ya, Suds. You’re my favorite kid.”

  “Oh, are there others?”

  “Nah, just seemed like a nice thing to say.”

  Sydney matched her mother’s grin.

  “I know you judged me,” Karen said.

  Sydney’s face fell. “I was a kid. I just didn’t understand. All I knew was that I didn’t have the things that other people had.”

  “I hope you’re realizing now that things aren’t everything. Don’t get me wrong, a roof over your head and food in the fridge are important. God knows it’d be nice if we could keep this shop going. But sometimes it’s more about who you have, not what you have.”

  Sydney’s lip trembled, and she bit down to contain it. Or who you don’t have.

  “Now,” Karen said. “What’s going on with Sam? You look pretty broken up about something.”

  Sydney relayed a brief, watered-down version of the weekend’s events. She tried to keep her heartache in check, but as her mother’s mouth curved further and further into a frown, she knew she’d given herself away.

  “Go get him.”

  Sydney laughed and ran a hand through her hair. “Okay, Mom. Just go?”

  “Yes. Just go. I think you’re scared shitless about your feelings for him, and you’re hurting him in the process. Men aren’t all the same, ya know. Sam would never come close to doing to you what Connor did.”

  “You’re right,” Sydney said. “I’m scared, but you’re right.”

  “Atta girl.” Karen waved her toward the door. “Now get out of here. I’ll take care of restocking.”

  Sydney tucked all her anxieties down deep inside and locked them in a box. If she was going to talk to Sam about what happened, she’d need to be fear-free. Even if she was faking.

  chapter eighteen

  The single bulb over Sam’s head flickered.

  “Damn it.”

  He’d have to change it soon, but like a game of chicken, he also wondered how long he could make the sucker last. Tonight the warm, flickering glow kept him company. He needed a friend.

  Save for a few snowmobiles Matt had dropped off for routine maintenance, the shop was quiet. Sam was just about to yank the chain on the light bulb when a pair of headlights lit up the space. His junker. A flurry of anger accompanied the tingle below his belt when he spotted Sydney.

  After the high of a complete and perfect orgasm had worn off, she’d raced out of the lean-to like a firefighter on a call. Everything about sleeping together was a gamble. Sure, they’d grown close. But she was still Sydney Walsh. She was still a city girl who wore diamonds in her ears and turned down proposals from wealthy stockbrokers.

  In addition to the superficial stuff, he’d gotten to know her. He knew she was scared. Scarred by an absentee father and the fear of being financially dependent on anyone, she was a frightened deer. And women like that could hurt a man just as much as they were scared to be hurt themselves.

  “Hi.” She crept toward him, barely making a sound on the icy gravel outside his garage. Her face pinched, and she clutched her hands at her throat, tugging at the imaginary necklace.

  “Hi,” he said. He wiped his grease-smeared hands on a rag at his belt and tried to avoid her laser-beam stare.

  “I’m sorry to interrupt you.” She stopped a few feet short of where he stood, gnawing at her lip. “I just wanted to come and say I’m sorry.”

  Now she had his full attention. “Sorry for what?”

  “Oh, come on.” A bitter laugh escaped her throat. “For running away on Saturday. For acting like nothing happened.”

  “It’s fine.” He shrugged. Fine? It’s not fine. Quit letting her get away with everything.

  “Oh, really?” She challenged him instead. “It’s fine? You were cool with the way that ended?”

  “Well, no.” His heart pounded at his ribs as if trying to escape. Was he angry or turned on or both? Damn her. Her full lips glistened in the low shop light as if she’d just applied lip gloss, and the cold air brought out the flush in her cheeks, which reminded him of her face at the exact moment his finger slid inside her for the first time.

  “No,” she said. It was more of a question than an agreement.

  “No, I wasn’t cool with it. You’re confusing as shit, man.”

  She stood a little bit taller, but he pressed on.

  “I mean, was it not what you’d hoped for? Was it somehow disappointing? Because in my fairly experienced history, if a woman’s eyes roll back in her head like that when she comes, it’s a good thing.”

  Her full mouth parted, and the faintest hint of a moan escaped her lips before her hand could fly up to cover it. Something resembling a word came out of her mouth, and he tilted his head, waiting for a real response. She wasn’t going to hem and haw and pout her way out of this one.

  “It was good.” Her voice dropped an octave. “It was better than good.”

  The stirring inside his jeans forced him to take a step forward and then another. As he inched closer, her breath quickened, the clouds of moisture in front of her mouth coming more frequently.

  “Better than good,” he s
aid. “So why’d you run away? And don’t tell me it was because this is a secret. You knew that before we did it.”

  “Did it.” A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.

  “What are you, fifteen?” Now he was close enough to smell the heady sweetness of her perfume. Like spring plants after the rain. “You knew it was a secret before I had you half-naked next to a campfire, making you moan like a wild animal before you begged me to make you come. Is that better?”

  Her eyelids sunk to half-mast, and she released a single, strangled breath that floated across his lips like a ghost. He’d wondered if the sex wasn’t good for her, if that was why she’d run. That obviously wasn’t the truth.

  “I don’t know why I did that,” she said. He placed a hand on the doorframe to the left of her head and leaned into it, wanting to close the space between them but not entirely confident enough to do so yet.

  He’d spent the past four days going over every moment of Saturday morning. The way her hair fell in his face, the way her moans came from deep inside her throat, the way she came hard enough to leave faint bruises on his hips. If she gave him the go-ahead, he’d leap at the chance to have her again. But only on her terms.

  “I’m not gonna hurt you,” he said.

  With this, her eyes closed completely. When they opened again, they searched his face. “Yeah, you say that now. But you might.”

  “You might hurt me.”

  As she stood perfectly still, he brushed his lips against hers. She lifted her face to lock in what he’d been unsure about. She covered his mouth with hers and raised her hand to his cheek as she stepped in closer.

  He wrapped both arms around her, squeezing her tightly and breathing in every inch of her smell and taste. His tongue worked its way inside her mouth, and she greeted it as eagerly as her hands clutched his waist.

  “Come on.” He broke away, suddenly aware of how exposed they were in the doorway to his garage, even if the shop was slightly off the beaten path. With clasped hands, they moved inside and toward his office.