Grinning at the memory of doing this exact same thing in our teen years, I hoisted myself up and over the garden wall closest to Kirsten’s window using a trellis to climb up the side of the house. Jesus, this was so much harder now that I was a grown man. I struggled my way up to her windowsill. Luckily, the window was open.
Thanking the late-summer heaviness for the open window, I slid through the gap as silently as possible and into Kirsten’s room.
She was sound asleep on top of her bed, curled around my suit jacket. It was only in looking at the heartwarming scene in front of me that I realized I’d forgotten it earlier in the garden. Quietly, I took off my shoes and padded over to sit by Kirsten’s head. I ran a gentle hand through her hair, rubbing my fingertips against her scalp until she began to stir.
“Kirsten, it’s me,” I murmured.
Her eyelashes fluttered sleepily as she replied, “Rafe? Is that you?”
She tried to sit up, still barely conscious, as she blinked her eyes. I nudged her back down as I climbed on top of the bed to curl up beside her.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, more awake now. There was a tiny frown creasing her brow. I leaned in and kissed it away, but the frown only turned more pronounced. “That wasn’t very professional.”
“I’m not here as your lawyer. I’m here as Rafe. Your Rafe.”
“Why can’t they be the same person?”
“They just—can’t, Kirsten. My interest in you as a man and as your lawyer are different.”
She looked downcast. “I know that, but it doesn’t stop it from stinging.”
“You should have told me everything Sergei said, you idiot.”
Now, that caught Kirsten’s attention.
“Katya told you?”
“Matt did. Apparently, they tell each other everything, and Matt couldn’t keep it from me. You should have told me, especially if you were convinced you were being followed.”
She shoved a hand against my chest. “You should have believed me, regardless. And I didn’t want you to lock me up for fear of me looking for the stalker.”
“At least you’re aware of your own stupidity.” I laughed softly, grasping hold of her hand before she could pull it back. I kissed each of her fingertips one by one by one. I was happy to see her blush.
“You’re hiding something from me, aren’t you?” she asked suddenly, studying my face carefully in case I was about to lie.
“Yes. I have to.”
“Then it’s hypocritical of you to suggest I shouldn’t hide things from you.”
“I know. I need to keep some things from you, nonetheless. Just for now. When this is over—”
“Everyone keeps saying that. ‘When this is over’. Well, guess what? I have to live this whole thing right now. Who knows how long this damn case will take? What if my name gets cleared but the actual culprits are never caught? Who’s to say—”
I kissed her. I reached in and swallowed the rest of her fears with my lips, not knowing what else to do or say. There was nothing left to say.
“Rafe, what are you doing?” she asked breathlessly. “I thought you said we had to wait?”
I didn’t break away from her gaze as I replied, “That was before. But you’re right, we’re living in the present, so what the hell am I doing not actually living it? Kirsten, I love you. And you know that. I’m tired of hiding it.”
I was aware it was the first time I’d told her I loved her out loud. There was a certain relief and euphoria to it. Especially when she smiled in delight.
“I love you, too.”
And then there really was nothing left to say. There were only actions.
My lips found hers again as her hands made quick work of my tie, then the buttons of my shirt, and then my belt. My hands slid around her back and undid her bra, and in one swift motion, I pulled her dress up and over her head, taking the undergarment with it.
“I haven’t seen you this naked since we were little kids playing in a paddling pool,” I joked as I took in the sight of her bare, beautiful breasts in the moonlight. They were beautiful—she was beautiful—and a rapidly hardening sensation in my pants seemed to agree with me.
“Such a dick,” she muttered as she ran her hands over my arms, removing my shirt as she pulled me on top of her, kissing me passionately. She hooked her legs around my waist, grinding against me until it was almost painful to keep my pants on.
I broke away from her just long enough to remove the rest of my clothes, then slid her panties off with one hand, keeping my eyes on her the whole time.
“I take back what I said earlier,” she said as I straddled her, taking in the entirely perfect sight of Kirsten naked beneath me.
“What do you mean?”
She laughed a little. “I said you looked awful. You absolutely don’t. You’re sexy as hell, Rafe. Tell me why we didn’t do this sooner.”
“Because…I’m an idiot.”
“That you are,” she agreed as she pulled me back down and crushed her lips against mine.
And then we were hands through hair, lips on skin, tangled limbs and flashes of pleasure as we explored each other’s bodies, desperate and hungry and mad for each other. We didn’t stop. We couldn’t. It was only as the sky began to lighten across the horizon that, finally, the two of us collapsed onto the bed, spent and exhausted.
We didn’t sleep for long. In fact, it felt as if we’d barely slept at all when my cell phone buzzed, informing me I needed to get up for work. It took me a moment to remember it was Saturday and I had no work to go to. Happily, I turned off the alarm and rolled over to nestle back against her.
Her sleeping face was blissful in the morning light. Without thinking, I reached in and kissed her lips. Kirsten moaned slightly and reciprocated before pulling away.
“What time is it?” she mumbled, eyes still closed as she stretched.
“Just after seven. Go back to sleep.”
“I will if you will,” she replied, a happy smile on her face. God, I could get used to this. Waking up next to Kirsten was unbearably addictive—and this was the first time it had happened.
“I love you.”
She opened her eyes, the sun glinting off her green irises as if she belonged to a clan of woodland elves. She kissed the end of my nose.
“I love you, too.”
We were startled out of the moment by a noise in the hallway. Kirsten was immediately wide awake.
“Shit, my brothers stayed last night. That’ll be Ian getting up.”
“It’s not as if he’ll come in here at seven in the morning, will he?”
“No, but Clara might, and I don’t want you to be around when that happens. She’ll make some comment that Ian will latch on to and take way too far.”
I chuckled under my breath. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. Okay, I’ll head out the way I came in. Can I see you tonight?” I asked as I retrieved my clothes from the floor.
“Ah, I’m meeting Dean and Rose tonight for dinner, but maybe after that?”
“You still have that curfew, so just let me know when you get home, and if I feel like entertaining you, I’ll swing by.”
She pouted. “That’s cruel.”
“So is you meeting Dean for dinner.”
“And Rose. Besides, I’m going to tell him no. He’d wanted me to wait until everything had blown over, but that’s not fair to him. My feelings won’t change. He’s just a friend.”
I raised an eyebrow.
“A good friend, yes, but a friend nonetheless. He’s been so supportive with absolutely zero ulterior motives this whole time. So get over the jealousy.”
I laughed as I put my tie back on. “I’ll consider it.”
She walked over and kissed me. “I’ll see you later, then.”
I’d never felt as much regret as I did in that moment, watching a naked Kirsten in the morning sunlight get further and further away as I descended from her window. I gave her a wave once I hit the garden, turned aro
und and took a solid three steps before I walked straight into Ian.
“Shit,” I let out inadvertently.
Ian took one look at me, then Kirsten’s window, where she’d hidden behind a curtain and punched me in the face.
“You son of a bitch!” he roared as I recoiled from the punch. “You son of a bitch,” he repeated. “Where do you get off sneaking into my sister’s bedroom like some damn pervert, then running off in the morning? Who the hell do you think you are?”
“Ian, stop for a second—”
“Don’t you dare tell me to stop. Here I was thinking maybe, just maybe you were serious and respectful enough this time around that it might be okay. You were keeping professional while being her lawyer; you were doing everything right; you were putting in the effort with my dad—but no. You just had to go and sleep with my sister behind my back.”
“Ian—”
“Get the hell out of here!” he screamed, swinging to hit me again. “Just get the hell away.”
I didn’t stick around long enough for him to connect a second punch with the side of my face. I vaulted over the garden wall and ran straight for my car, driving home as fast as I could without breaking the speed limit.
I shouldn’t have done that. I shouldn’t have gone behind my best friend’s back in the worst way possible.
And yet.
And yet.
I didn’t regret what had happened between Kirsten and me. The way it had happened, yes, but not the fact it had happened. The minute I sank into her body, it was perfect. The way she clung to me as if I was the only person left on Earth. That was heavenly. I didn’t regret the act; just the exit.
“Guess I’ll add making amends with Ian onto the list of things I need to fix,” I muttered aloud. The high from sleeping with Kirsten rapidly disintegrated as the reality of our lives came crashing back around me.
But now I knew. I knew exactly what I could have with Kirsten when everything was over, and it was intoxicating. Especially when I received a text message from her.
Sorry about Ian. I’ll deal with it. Love you.
If ever I was going to catch the assholes who were after Kirsten, it was now.
I had run out of patience. They were going down.
Chapter Twenty-One
There was nothing like finally sleeping with the man you loved then watching your brother try to beat him up to make you crave alcohol. Thank God for Rose and Dean. It had been a long, painful day to get through from the moment I witnessed my brother punching Rafe in the face to the moment I finally got to leave for dinner.
Luckily for me, my father hadn’t wanted to hear anything Ian had to say on the matter.
“What’s between Rafe and Kirsten is between Rafe and Kirsten, Ian,” he’d said, “even if the way he entered and exited the house leaves something to be desired. Regardless of how unprofessional it was, that was no excuse for punching him in the face.”
My father had looked at me as if he’d expected better of me but otherwise said nothing. Given my situation, what would he suggest Rafe and I do instead? The fact that he didn’t say anything to me spoke volumes. I could make my own decisions, and it wasn’t his place to weigh in on the matter.
The fact that he was treating me as an adult when Rafe and I had basically acted like kids made me feel pretty awful. And yet still…
How could I regret what had happened? I’d loved every moment of it. I could deal with Rafe keeping secrets for the time being, just so long as we could be as close as we’d been last night. It had been—I didn’t know how to describe it. Electric, maybe. Frenetic, even.
Perfect, definitely.
I glanced at Dean, who was carelessly laughing away at a comment Rose had made. I didn’t want to have to hurt his feelings, but ultimately I had to do the right thing. I had to do the adult thing. I had to turn him down.
Just not while Rose was around to bear witness to the whole thing.
“Three more screwdrivers, please,” I asked the bartender of the bar we’d found ourselves in after dinner. It was called Ringo’s, a bar that played classic 60s rock, situated about five minutes from Capone’s. It had been Dean’s eclectic choice. He’d been unapologetic about it.
“What, so I like the Beach Boys, Beatles and Bob Dylan—get over it,” he’d said when we arrived.
I didn’t mind in the slightest. It was good to try new places, and once I got over the initial strangeness of it, I found myself thoroughly enjoying the music, especially when I began recognizing some songs as favorites from my father’s childhood. Rose had protested, of course—60s rock was definitely not her style, but she’d drunk enough alcohol to be swayed otherwise.
I hadn’t realized how much I needed a night out until I was in it. I still had my curfew, so in reality, it was only just past nine. It frustrated me that I would have to leave in under an hour, but I decided not to dwell on that.
Besides, I could call Rafe over when I got back home, Ian be damned. Rafe could apologize to my father for having snuck in through my window, and everything would be fine.
But first I had to turn Dean down. I waited for Rose to need the restroom, but by God, the girl had the bladder of a camel. She hadn’t gone once, not even at dinner.
Rose smiled bashfully when I handed over her drink from the bartender. “Thanks, Kirst—but this definitely has to be my last one. I’m on call tomorrow.”
“Sucks to be you,” I threw at her as I similarly threw vodka and orange juice down my throat.
Dean laughed. “Somebody’s in a very good mood, O’Leary. Something nice happen?”
“You could—you could say that,” I stammered. The expression on Dean’s face froze—for just a second. But it was enough. I could tell.
He knew.
And then he smiled his easy smile. “God knows you deserve something good to happen to you, given how hellish your life has been the past few weeks.”
“You’re telling me.”
Just like that, the conversation returned to normal. I knew I had to say something a little more official to Dean, but it could wait until we were alone. For now, I was content with letting us have a good time.
We were all shocked when a man snaked his arms around Rose’s waist. “Guess who?” he announced.
“What the hell—” she began, then squealed in delight when she turned around. “Josh. Oh my God. What are you doing here?”
Josh grinned from ear to ear. “You’ll never guess what, babe, but my transfer went through.”
“When?”
“Three days ago, but I wanted to surprise you.”
Rose let out another noise of glee as she threw her arms around him, then turned back to us. “Dean, Kirsten, this is my boyfriend, Joshua. I’m sorry to do this, but I’m definitely getting the hell out of this place with him this very second.”
It was only then Rose finally took a trip to the restroom, then left with her boyfriend back to her apartment, leaving me and Dean alone. While I’d wanted an opportunity to speak to him by himself all evening, now that the opportunity had been thrust upon me, I didn’t know what to say.
“That’s really—that’s so good that Josh got a job in Vegas,” I said, desperate for something to talk about. “I was worried Rose would have to move back over, but this is great.”
“Just don’t leave, Kirsten.”
“Huh?” I stared at Dean, who regarded me seriously.
“I can tell I’ve lost to Rafe. That’s okay. I’m glad I don’t have to regret never telling you how I felt. But don’t leave.”
“Don’t leave?”
“Vegas. The clinic. Me.” He smiled wistfully. “Not in an awkward way or anything. I’ll get over my feelings for you. But—” Dean paused for a moment, downing his drink before continuing. “You must know I equally regard you as a good friend and a particularly great colleague. I couldn’t bear losing you to another clinic.”
I didn’t know what to say. It reminded me that I’d been thinking just the same th
ing a week ago—that I didn’t want to leave Vegas.
My answer was so easy.
“You’re not getting rid of me so easily, Dr. Collins,” I replied, a stupid grin on my face that contradicted the fact that I felt close to tears. “I’m here to stay, like it or not.”
I was suddenly caught in a crushing embrace. Dean leaned his head on my shoulder as I gasped in surprise.
“Just for a moment. I swear, just for a moment, and then you need never deal with a pining forty-year-old man again.”
“You’re thirty-eight. There’s life in you yet.”
He laughed raucously as he pulled away from me. “Okay, I’m heading to the restroom for a moment. Not to cry, so don’t even suggest I am. Then one more drink, and that’ll be you hitting curfew, so I’ll make sure you get home okay.”
“Thanks, Dean.”
That left me nursing the dregs of my drink at the bar, alone. The bar wasn’t exactly quiet, so I was content to bask in the sounds of other people enjoying their Saturday night and the final minute of “Hey Jude”.
“So I’m a little older than forty, but care to entertain another pining middle-aged man?” came a voice from my left. I turned to regard the speaker—a man who looked similar in age to my father. He was unassuming in appearance, with graying brown hair and muddy brown eyes to match, though he was clearly tall despite the way he stooped his shoulders.
“Can I help you?” I asked politely though I was immediately on edge. I felt like I recognized the man from somewhere. Not that I’d met him before, rather I’d seen him in passing in a photograph or video or something, but I couldn’t place him.
It made me feel uncomfortable.
The man smiled, but it didn’t really reach his eyes. “I don’t think so. All I wanted to do was buy you a drink. I’ve been watching you for a while.”
What a creep, I thought as I looked the other way.
“Um, no, thank you. I’m actually just waiting for my friend to return from the restroom, and then we’re leaving.”
Betting On Us (Wilde Love Book 3) Page 13
