Sydney crouched next to Liv, her hand making gentle circles on Liv’s frail back. A pulpy, wine-colored splotch stained the front of Sydney’s red plaid shirt.
“She’ll be all right,” Sydney said, her voice just above a whisper. “She’s conscious, so that’s something, I guess.”
“Why is she back here?” he said. “The smell . . .”
“I know.” She shook her head, her face blank and pale. “I didn’t want her to embarrass herself in front of the other women. I haven’t had the money to fix the toilet in the bathroom, so . . .”
Sam swallowed, his patience worn as thin as spring ice. “I can’t take this anymore.” His voice cracked.
“I know.” Her eyes drew him in, held him. She physically comforted Liv, but her support surrounded him like a blanket. They couldn’t say much, but he knew how she felt.
“Sammy.” Liv’s wobbly voice gurgled. “I’m so sorry.”
He raked his hands through his hair and down his face. She was his responsibility now. And in order to get her out of the shop, he’d have to carry her past some of the biggest gossipmongers in town.
“Is she still throwing up?” he said.
“She’s stopped for a minute.”
Sam bent down and hooked Liv’s bony arm around his neck, lifting her waif-thin body up to something resembling standing. She looked up at him through bleary eyes, a smear of purple vomit on her left cheek.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “The social worker showed up today, Sam. I wasn’t ready for her. I missed a meeting last week, and I don’t know what’s gonna happen now.”
Her sour breath wafted toward him like a toxic wave. For the first time in years, he was overcome with the urge to set her down and leave her there. She’d made her decisions. Let her pay the consequences.
Instead, he lifted her through the office door, and as a hush fell over the book club, he pressed his lips together and dragged her past the reading nook. Fury filled his gut, spilled past his chest, and burned his throat. She ruined everything: her kid’s life, Sam’s efforts, and now the place Sydney had worked so hard to build. It was inexcusable.
As he carried her, toes dragging along the floor, he heard someone behind him whisper, “She doesn’t deserve him.” Whether they meant him or Jay, he had to agree.
* * *
• • •
The icy snow pelted his windshield and coated the roads. The treacherous conditions made the evening news, and he knew he shouldn’t be out driving, but he couldn’t stay cooped up for one more minute. If he’d stayed at his house, he’d have ended up tossing all her shit into the lake. Or worse.
He didn’t know if his anger was warranted, but it bubbled up in him all the same. Yes, Liv had tried. She’d tried with everything in her. But it didn’t hurt any less to know she’d failed and that he had a part in it.
He careened into downtown, and his truck slipped a bit as he pulled into a parking space at the curb in front of the Loving Page. The streets were empty. The women had all gone home, and even Utz’s was locked up for the night. The desolation soothed him.
Inside the Loving Page, little red lamps and a few candles still burned, and as he neared the door, Sydney came into view. She wasn’t alone.
He knocked on the shop door after trying the locked handle, and Jorie looked up, her brow twisted. She walked to the front and let him in.
“How is she?” she asked.
“Drunk.” He shrugged. “I dropped her at her sister’s.”
“Wow, really? I thought they weren’t speaking.”
“Let her family take care of her for a while,” he said. “I told her sister I’m done. Apparently she’s still got a shot, but it’s gonna be tough. I just can’t do it anymore.” The words caught in Sam’s throat, and he pinched the bridge of his nose to fight back tears. They stung of failure.
“Sammy,” Jorie said gently. She placed a soft hand on the arm of his jacket and squeezed. “You did everything you could. We all did. And now we’re all done.”
He coughed through the threatening tears and checked to see if Sydney watched. Her back was to them, but she didn’t move.
“I don’t want to talk about this right now,” he said. “I’m beat. I just wanted to make sure everything was all right here.”
Jorie tilted her head, examining his face. She’d known him for a long time, and she’d been on high alert since she caught him at her house under the ruse of borrowing a book. She had allegiance to both her friends, but he hoped she’d want him to be happy.
She shrugged. “Everything’s fine here. But I think Liv lost some serious town support tonight. It’s hard to overlook a girl’s drinking problem when she brings a flask to a book club and then vomits right in front of your face.”
“That’s not even top on my list of concerns right now.” He moved past Jorie and headed straight for Sydney. Secrets be damned. What did he have to lose now anyway? He needed to make sure she was all right.
“Hey,” he said, placing a strong hand between her shoulder blades and peering down at her drawn face. “Y’all right?”
“Fine.” She pressed her lips together in a forced smile. Her eyes shone up at him, brimming with tears. “I mean, that’s that. All my hard work and six people came, and Liv vomited on one of them and spilled a full glass of wine on me. No one bought anything, and now I have to pay to have the couch cleaned.”
She shrugged and a single tear slid down her cheek. Watching her cry broke him in half. He cupped her face and brushed the tear away with his thumb. Just as he remembered Jorie still stood in the same room, he heard the front door close. From outside, she sent him a short wave and a sympathetic smile, and then disappeared.
He turned his full attention to Sydney and wrapped his other arm around her hunched back, cocooning her into his chest. “You can be bummed tonight. You’re allowed that. But that’s not it. This isn’t how this ends.”
Her face lifted, and a warm breath passed over his lips. Tears clung to her lashes and brought out the most beautiful rosy hue in her cheeks. He planted a kiss on the corner of her lips.
“I can’t work at this anymore,” she said. “I’m tired.”
He released a bitter laugh, and a strand of her mahogany hair lifted in response. “Trust me. That, I get.”
A thousand words passed between them, but neither spoke. He wanted to brush off every responsibility he’d ever taken on, every burden he’d ever been saddled with, and disappear with her. Get in a car and go.
“I want to go home now,” she said.
“Can I take you?”
She nodded. He wished he could explain how he felt about Liv in this moment, how much he wanted to be free of her. But even the mention of her name would sully the intimacy of their embrace.
They blew out the candles and turned out the lights, leaving the last bit of cleanup for the morning, and headed out into the cold. When they reached Sydney’s car, she reached for a scrap of paper tucked under her windshield wiper. The icy rain hadn’t yet ruined the ink.
“What’s that?” Sam asked. He looked over her shoulder as they read the note together.
Spending the night at Matt’s. The whole night. And the whole morning. See you around noon tomorrow. xx Jorie
“Huh,” Sydney said, the corner of her mouth lifting as she looked at him. “Do you think she’s onto us?”
“And it sounds like she approves?”
He didn’t have the motivation or desire to wonder any longer about who approved or who didn’t. In the shitstorm of the evening, Sydney was a safe haven. He took her by the hand, led her toward his pickup, and helped her climb in.
Ten wordless minutes later, he shut off the engine in the driveway of Jorie’s house. He peered out the windshield at the darkened structure and breathed deep. The place was finally theirs. No interruptions. No having to hurr
y home before Liv wondered where he was. They had a free night all to themselves.
“So,” she said, “how do you want to play this? Do you want to see how many times we can get it in before dawn, or do you want to see how long we can go in one stretch?”
Surprise bubbled up in him like ginger ale. A smile played on her lips. “You’re in a better mood.”
“I want to forget about tonight,” she said. “And I feel like Jorie’s note was a gift for me to do just that.” It was exactly what he wanted, too. To forget.
They climbed out of the cab and hurried inside as the icy wind whipped their faces. She tugged off her jacket and hung it on the hook near the door, and it was then that he noticed the red wine stain again.
“So she spilled wine on you, huh?” He ran a timid finger across the purple blotch.
“Yup. During her third retelling of the time you guys did it in a gas station bathroom.” She puffed her cheeks out and bulged her eyes.
“That wasn’t me.” He shuddered at the memory of Liv telling him that exact same story. In her attempt at drumming up a sexy moment they’d shared, she’d inadvertently admitted she’d cheated on him.
“Thank God,” she sighed. With a few quick flicks of her fingers, the shirt was unbuttoned and on the ground. A bra he’d never seen before, sheer black lace connected by thin black straps, waited underneath.
“This is weird,” he said, tracing the cup of her bra with his thumb.
After the night he’d had, he didn’t know what he wanted. The anger still coursed under his skin, reminding him of all the nights his mother received calls that she should pick up his father because he was puking somewhere in public, the nights when Liv never came home, the nights when a sick sense of foreboding settled into his bones and wouldn’t quit.
At the same time, the woman who soothed all that anger and frustration stood before him in a slip of lingerie, her velvet-smooth skin begging to be touched. He understood now why sculptors created statues of the female form over and over and over again.
“What’s weird?” she asked. She traced her teeth over her bottom lip and drew her eyebrows together as her fingers found his belt and tucked behind it. Her fingernails on his skin were heaven.
“I’m still so angry at Liv. I’m disappointed. But I want you so much at the same time.”
“I have a lot of feelings, too,” she said, stepping closer into him. She wrapped her cool hands around his neck and lifted her face to his. “But everything disappears a little when I’m with you. So right now, I’d like to just focus on that.”
He peeled one of her hands from around his neck and lifted the knuckles to his lips, breathing in the scent of her delicious skin. Before he could make another move, she reached to the left of him and flipped off all the lights. The darkness swallowed them up, and for a moment, neither moved.
“It’s too dark,” he said, pressing his mouth against the soft spot behind her ear. “I want to see you.”
“Just give it a second,” she said.
Slowly, his eyes adjusted to the darkness, and the bold-faced moon brightened the space. She was brilliant, as if lit from within, her creamy white skin glowing against the black bra and dark jeans.
“Making love by moonlight,” he said, unable to hide his grin.
“Making love, huh?” She pressed her lips together and tugged at a strand of hair as her chest rose and fell, pressing the flesh of her breasts against the bra cups.
“Yeah,” he said. He was terrified to overstep his boundaries. But the way he felt about her was unrivaled. He cared about her, wanted to protect her, wanted to lift her up and make sure she had everything she wished for in life. “It’s more than sex at this point.”
She licked her lips, and the rapid speed of her breathing increased. “I think so, too.”
Her long, slender fingers unzipped his coat and pushed it off his shoulders before unbuttoning his flannel shirt. Tonight he wore nothing underneath, and she ran her hands across his biceps and chest as the shirt fell to the ground.
“Let’s take our time,” she said, her voice a whisper against his shoulder.
He hoped tonight she finally gave in to what she’d been hinting at all week. He didn’t know why she held back, but if it had anything to do with protecting his feelings, he’d tell her it didn’t matter anymore. He was an open book with her. His heart laid bare.
She peeled off her own jeans, the curve of her hips bending and flexing as she moved. Her black thong matched her black bra down to the tiny bow stitched at the middle of each, and he wanted to taste her in both places.
He bent his knees and wrapped his arms around her waist, lifting her clear off the floor. A laugh rolled out of her throat as she tossed her head back, and her hair trailed behind her. He’d give his soul for that laugh.
He pressed his mouth against the space between her breasts and then worked his tongue past the right cup until he felt the nub of her nipple in his mouth.
She’d said to go slow, but as her legs squeezed around his waist, the warmth and wetness from between her legs dampened his lower abs and made his cock harder than ever. Maybe they could get the first orgasm out of the way so that the next one lasted.
She hugged her arms around his neck, and he buried his face in the chasm of her chest, breathing in the soft scent. He reached a hand up her back and popped the bra clasp, helping her out of the garment before her breasts spilled out toward him.
He filled his mouth with the satiny flesh before him, sucking at her nipple and dragging his teeth across her skin until she choked out a moan. He moved to the left and did the same on the other side, this time eliciting an “Oh God.”
“I wonder if I can make you come like this,” he said, growling against her chest.
“Do you feel how wet I am?” she said. With that, she pressed her hips into him, and his cock responded accordingly. The jeans were torture.
“Hold on,” he said. He removed his arms from her body and she clung to him, grinning down as she gently rolled her hips from side to side. Knowing he made her that hot only turned him on more.
He unhooked the button on his jeans and kicked them off as she remained glued to his chest. When he tugged off his boxer briefs and stood completely upright, the tip of his erection brushed the bottom of her ass.
“Jesus,” she said, cradling his face between her arms and stretching her tongue into his waiting mouth. He closed his lips around her tongue and sucked briefly, her thighs tightening around him in response.
With great control, and all the while holding her gaze, he lowered her body an inch until the tip of his cock rested perfectly between her cheeks. Her eyelids lowered and she tilted her hips back, sliding her seam over his head.
He was a fraction of a moment away from sliding her thong to the side and slipping inside her. Suddenly, she removed one arm from around his neck, reached down, and moved the thong herself.
They locked eyes, and she used the same free hand to grip his erection and carefully dip the head just past her lips. He couldn’t see straight. His arms and legs were numb, as if every nerve ending in his body had rushed to his cock.
“Jesus Christ,” he choked.
“I can’t get enough of you,” she said, trailing her full lips over his mouth. “I know we shouldn’t do this without a condom, but you feel so good.”
She said what he was thinking, and before they could act on it, he pulled away and set her down. Her chest deflated, but he wasn’t saying no.
“Not yet,” he said, covering her mouth in an eager kiss. “I want that, too. Just, not yet.”
He took her hand and led her to the bedroom, closing the door behind him and flicking on the small bedside lamp.
“Is that okay?” he asked.
Every time they’d been together after the lean-to had been pitch-black. He needed to see her as much as he needed
to feel her.
“Yes,” she said, lowering herself to the edge of the bed. He kneeled in front of her like a peasant in front of his queen. Whatever she wanted him to do, he’d do it.
“Can I touch you?” He ran his hand over the smooth skin at her belly button and trailed it down over the space where her thighs met.
“I hope you never stop,” she said. Thank God for the light. Her cheeks were spattered with blush, as if the blood couldn’t decide where it wanted to pool. Her long dark hair cascaded across her slender shoulders and brushed the tops of her breasts, and he pushed the strands back for maximum view.
“You’re sure the light’s okay?” he asked. If she wasn’t comfortable, she’d shut him down, and he wanted her perfectly at peace.
“It’s fine,” she said. She scraped her fingers through his hair and leaned back onto her elbows with an eager grin.
As his index finger trailed across the tops of her thighs, the space between them opened slightly. She was letting him in. He gazed up at her for more reassurance, and her bright eyes shone yes.
She was completely bare, and her delicate folds glistened with all the anticipation he’d felt on his stomach earlier. As he traced across her lips with shaky fingers, he took in the sight before him. She was beautiful. Perfect.
He pressed the pad of his middle finger against her clit, and her hips rose to meet him, her head falling back with a sigh. His bottom lip quivered, desperate for her taste on his tongue.
With two fingers already slick with arousal, he massaged her up and down and then used his thumb to tease the soft space below her entrance. He slowly dipped his two fingers past her lips, and her legs parted even farther.
“You like this?” he asked, his words catching in his throat.
“Yes,” she choked out. She lifted her head, her hair wild and her mouth swollen. With a half-closed stare, she said, “I want you to taste me.”
He paused, frozen between her legs. “Baby, we don’t have to.”
“You have never made me feel like I had to do anything,” she said. She gasped and rolled her head like a woman on the verge. “Right now, all I want is your mouth on me. I need it.”
Wild Love Page 24
