Waiting for Tuesday: Suspicious Hearts Book Two

by Taylor Sullivan

  I pulled in a deep breath and resolved to change the subject, wanting to talk about anything but myself. “How are things in Crescent City?”

  “Good.” She sighed breathily. “It’s beautiful here. Things grow like it’s the Garden of Eden. I have a fresh organic salad every day, and all I have to do to is walk out the back door.”

  She went on to tell me about the local scenery, about getting a part-time job at a vegan eatery, where she quickly became famous for the date-nut-candy roll she’d been making since I was a child. It all sounded amazing, and I found myself smiling for the first time all morning.

  “I wish you’d come up here, sweet pea. It would be good for your soul.”

  She was right; an escape from everything so dauntingly heavy would be good for my soul. It would be good for my heart too. Because even though John was at least ten yards away through a closed door, my heart still felt his presence. It would be good to get away today, to clear my head, to leave all this frustration behind. “Maybe once things settle down here,” I said, closing my eyes and gripping the bridge of my nose.

  She was quiet a moment before she whispered, “Sounds good, honey.” But I knew she sensed there was more I wasn’t saying, but she was good that way. She didn’t press.

  “Well, I have to go eat something before my break is up. I’ll call you again next week?”

  I smiled sadly. “Sounds great.”

  “I love you, sweet pea,” she whispered.

  “I love you too,” I whispered back.

  I waited for her to hang up, just as I always did, before putting the phone back on the counter. It was half past noon, time for lunch, but I couldn’t eat. Even though I’d only finished half my smoothie before pouring the rest down the sink this morning.

  A few minutes later, the door to the back room opened, and I sat up as the whole crew walked through the product floor. John was the last, and he only acknowledged my presence by tilting his chin up while he took a drink from his stainless steel mug.

  “We’re breaking for lunch. Can we get you anything?” Leo asked, stopping by the register to wait for my reply. All I could do was shake my head, because my focus was on John as he walked out to the parking lot without saying a word.

  “Suit yourself,” Leo said, grinning. I forced a smile and rose to my feet. “You guys have fun.”

  He nodded, lifted an imaginary cap with his hand, and turned toward the exit.

  I didn’t wait for them to pull out of the lot before heading back to my office. I sat on my couch and stretched my legs out in front of me. I wanted to scream, but at the same time, I had my confirmation. The time John and I spent together was one of the most earth-shattering nights of my life, but to him it was nothing. I was just another girl he had asked.

  Those were the last thoughts in my head before my eyelids grew heavy, and I fell asleep.

  The sound of an electric saw woke me hours later. I bolted up on my elbows and pushed myself to sit on the edge of the couch to right my glasses. The room was fuzzy, and I strained to clear my vision. I glanced at my desk to check the time and cringed. Five after five, which meant I’d slept over three hours. I hadn’t fallen asleep like that in years, but with all that had been on my mind lately, I doubt I’d gotten three hours of rest all week. I gripped my skull, trying to clear my head from the fog that always settled after a nap. I still felt exhausted.

  I pushed myself to stand, hoping that if I got to work I’d start to feel better, and I opened my laptop.

  Before I could process even half a dozen orders, there was a quick knock at my door. John stuck his head in and lifted his chin. “We’re taking off. Need anything before we go?”

  I gazed at him, searching for any fleck of emotion to cross his features, but he looked normal. He didn’t raise his brows, or give any indication his words meant more than his question, and I couldn’t help wondering if this was his way of letting me know this was over.

  The guys could still be heard in the back room packing up, and I shook my head, stuffing a bar of soap into a box without checking to see if it even belonged there. Then I took a handful of lip balms and stuffed them in too, because I couldn’t understand how John and I could share the same moments, from which my heart ended up like a pulverized piece of meat, and his remained so closed, as hard as a diamond yet black as coal.

  I knew I’d have to start the shipment over again when he left, but I needed to appear as though the casual way he spoke to me didn’t affect me. That I wasn’t breaking inside because he was leaving without a word of acknowledgment about what happened. I managed to shake my head, but no words could be forced from my tongue.

  He nodded, and Eddie appeared behind him. “You have a good night, Ms. Patil.”

  I forced a smile. “You too.”

  They both left, and I took a deep breath before dumping out the contents of my last order. I should have been relieved. I’d worried about how to end things all day… and now I didn’t have to. It appeared that the only person I should have been worrying about was myself. He was fine… Could sleep with me and be completely unaffected the next day. He was an adult, pretending nothing happened, even though it did.

  Things did happen.

  Big things.

  Deep down, vulnerable things—things I wasn’t prepared for—and now I was paying the price.

  I pushed myself back from my desk and closed my eyes. I’d convinced myself I could sleep with him with no emotional investment, that we could have this short affair and go our separate ways. But somehow, in a short amount of time, a part of me had fallen in love with him.

  I let my head fall back to my shoulders with the realization. “How did you let this happen?”

  I continued to process the rest of the orders in tears, adding them to the crate scheduled to be picked up by the postman in the morning. I cried for a good fifteen minutes, allowing myself to mourn his loss, even though he was never mine in the first place.

  I took the box to the front room and placed it by the door. Then I grabbed the notes I made for a summer line from the top of the register and headed again for the back room. Instead of crying like I wanted to, I was determined to be productive, to push John from my mind like he’d done with me the moment I’d walked out of his room last night.

  When I reached the supply closet, I loaded my arms with oils, herbs, and butters. I carried them to the kitchen, disregarding the fact it was under construction, and set them up on the dust-filled counter. The debris of sawdust, scraps of wood, and nails was at least a quarter-inch thick.

  I placed my whole arm on the counter and pushed it all to the floor, not caring about the mess I would leave behind. I hadn’t made anything new in weeks, and even though the conditions weren’t ideal, these products were just for me. I would run them over and over again a dozen times before perfecting them, but I always felt so much better when creating.

  I needed that now. I needed to clear my head and focus on something that filled my heart with joy, so some of the cracks would fill up, and I wouldn’t feel so empty anymore.

  I ran to my office and got my cleaning supplies, then spent ten minutes clearing off enough space to work. When I was finally ready, I took three deep breaths, allowing my mind to go blank so I didn’t give too much thought to what I was doing.

  I always allowed myself to make mistakes when I worked. I realized long ago that closing myself off to the idea of perfection only made for boring products, things that weren’t unique or special in any way. But when I cleared my mind and allowed my nose to guide me, allowed my heart and soul to express themselves in the form of a lotion of body butter, magic happened.

  I scooped a good portion of shea butter into my bowl, added some coconut oil and vitamin E, then I started the electric mixer and began blending. This was my base for all my butters. From here, I just let things go. A little of this, a little of that, until it was done.

  My arm tingled with the rhythmic hum of the mixer as I beat the formula into a substanc
e that resembled a bowl of thick whipped cream. The door to the back room opened, and I didn’t even have to turn around to know it was John. I could feel his presence, because the piece of my heart he owned began beating. Soon he was behind me, brushing my hair from my shoulder and leaning down to kiss my neck.

  “What are you doing?” His voice was low, happy, and caused my stomach to clench with the memories of last night.

  I pushed them away, closed my eyes, and added a couple drops of Bergamot to the mixture. The room filled with the clean, seductive scent that always reminded me of a cool, citrus drink on a warm, summer day.

  I cleared my throat, trying to ignore his lips that were placing feather light kisses along my neck. “I’m working on a new body butter.”

  The heat from his body sent little surges of warmth to my belly.

  He smiled against my skin and came closer, until the fabric of my skirt tangled around his legs. “It smells good.”

  I took a deep breath, because what he was doing felt so good. I tilted my head to the side, allowing him better access, even though only minutes ago I had resolved to never let him do this again. “I thought you left.”

  He shook his head then wrapped his arms around my middle and pulled me closer. “The guys were getting suspicious. I had to make sure they left before I came back. It took forever for Eddie and Marco to leave the lot.”

  I swallowed. His words made me cringe. They confirmed once again how he felt about us. We were a secret, an affair that would end whether I wanted it to or not. I turned around, knowing I had to face him, knowing I had to say something, but not knowing what.

  I was met with his face, his beautiful face that was both rugged and raw. Even though he wasn’t smiling, I knew he was happy—his eyes, big and brown, danced with joy at the sight of me. Eyes just for me. I swallowed. “What happens if they find out?” I asked in a whisper.

  He shook his head. “They won’t.”

  I took a breath, needing air. “But what if they do?”

  He bit his lip then placed a hand on either side of me on the counter. “Then I fire them.”

  I frowned, shaking my head slightly. “I’m serious. I don’t want you to get in trouble. With Jake—or… or with anyone.” It was such a sad attempt at ending things, but he was standing so close, his kisses still burning the skin at my neck, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to end it anymore. I knew I was being irrational, stupid, because the smart thing to do would be to push him away and tell him it was over. But I couldn’t.

  He stepped closer until his body was flush with mine. “I like trouble.” His eyes traveled to my mouth. “I like trouble a whole lot.”

  I nodded because the way he said it made me like trouble too. A lot.

  He lifted me to the counter and spread my thighs until he fit between them. Then he kissed me so hard, so desperately, that I had to grip his shoulders to keep from falling backward. He kissed me with a hunger that shocked me; it was a kiss that held nothing back, a raw, teeth-clashing, tongue-plunging kiss that made me wrap my arms and legs around his body.

  He pulled me tight against him, his erection pressed into my belly, and his hands gripped my backside. I could feel the emotion of the day bubbling out of me. I wanted this so much, but I was still angry.

  “You ignored me all day,” I said against his mouth, my words so full of emotion that he pulled back again.

  He looked into my eyes, eyes I was sure showed every vulnerability I’d ever felt, and he shook his head. “I wasn’t ignoring you because I don’t want you.” He brushed a lone tear from my cheek and kissed it from this thumb. “I was ignoring you because every time I look at you, every time I get too close, this happens. Because I have no self-control when it comes to you, and I didn’t want the guys to see that.”

  My lips began to quiver and he came closer again, resting his forehead on mine. “What’s wrong?”

  “Don’t ignore me, John, I don’t like it.”

  His lips lifted in a sad smile and he kissed me again. “Never again.” His kiss was sweet, tender, and made me emotional all over again. “Never again.”

  He lifted me for a second time and turned around to head for the office. I held on to him with arms and legs, completely trusting him not to drop me as he walked with me across the floor. Our mouths never parted the whole way, and when he kicked the office door open with his foot, I completely surrendered.

  He laid me down on the couch, kneeled in between my thighs, and lifted my skirt. My fingers worked at the fastening of his belt, while he tore a foil packet open with his teeth. He rolled the condom over his erection and pulled down my panties. He yanked them the rest of the way down my legs, threw them to the floor, and we both called out at the same time when he entered me.

  It had been less than twenty-four hours since he’d filled me in his bedroom, but now, right now, I felt like I was eating for the first time in a week.

  He rocked with me, filled me, stretched me in the way I needed to be stretched, and loved me the way I needed to be loved. He plunged inside me, deep and hard, then slow and deliberate. He pulled out of me until only the tip remained before slamming inside of me again, over and over, again and again, but it wasn’t enough. I needed more of him; I needed to be closer. I found the edge of his shirt and pulled it up, sighing when my fingers found the skin of his back. I gripped him to me, savoring the flex of each muscle as it constricted with each thrust into my body.

  His head rested in the crook of my neck while our bodies moved as one. I kissed his ear, nipping at any skin with my teeth, filling my mouth with every bit of him I could get my lips on.

  He groaned in the back of his throat then plunged inside me again, making love to me in a way that felt like dancing. He was leading me in a waltz, so perfectly it was as if we’d practiced a thousand times. It was a dance that was raw, passionate, and hungry—so, so hungry.

  In that moment, with my back pressed into the green upholstered couch, the edge of my skirt pushed up to my throat, and my arms wrapped around this solid man, I resolved not to care what happened in the future. I didn’t care if I ended up crushed into a million vulnerable pieces on the floor, because each moment with John was worth the risk, worth the hurt.

  And that’s when I shattered, my heart open, my legs shaking as the man I was falling in love with collapsed on top of me with his pants still pushed down around his ankles. I wrapped my arms around him, panting, feeling his heavy breath against my neck, cooling the perspiration that had settled on my skin.

  I was in for the long haul with John, because not in a million years could I force my legs to walk away from him. The only way this would end was if he walked away from me.

  Chapter TWENTY-THREE

  Tuesday

  I smothered a cry into the side of the couch as John inched his way up my thighs. He had his tool belt still on, grinning like the devil as he kissed, licked, and bit his way up my legs. It was broad daylight out, the guys were on the other side of the closed door, and this wasn’t a good idea. I shook my head in protest. “We can’t do this, John, they’ll hear us.”

  His grin only widened, and he kept coming, kissing his way up my body until his mouth settled on the thin cotton underwear that was the only thing separating his tongue from devouring me.

  I grabbed his shoulders, halfheartedly trying to push him off, but he pinned my arms at my sides. “Shhh… Be quiet, Tuesday, or they’ll hear you.” Then he bit his lip, knowing quiet was an impossibility for me. His head dipped down again, and he pushed my panties to the side with his nose.

  Oh God, I surrender.

  My head fell back to the corduroy cushions, and I found the pillow behind my head and covered my face to muffle my cries. He was so good at this, his tongue warm, wet, and soft. His fingers plunged inside me, curling up to add the perfect amount of pressure. Then his mouth started doing magical things, sucking, blowing, licking, and making love to me in a way that was completely selfless.

  I wasn’t sure what spur
red this delicious form of torture this afternoon, but I wasn’t complaining. Five minutes earlier, I’d been stocking the shelves in the front of the store when he came from the back room to tell me he needed to talk to me about the new project I’d asked him about.

  A lot of extra things seemed to be popping up lately. Projects were taking longer than originally expected, and I kept finding little additions I was convinced needed to be done. But we both knew what we were doing. We were trying to prolong this thing for as long as we could, avoiding the conversation that was too difficult to face—the conversation where we talked about what this would become when the shop opened, when his job was over.

  As soon as I walked into the office, he closed the door and started kissing me, which was the first time he’d done that with the guys around. We’d made love every night that week, but it was always after the guys went home, always… Until now.

  I could feel myself climbing as he made love to me with his mouth. I alternated between gripping the cushion with both hands and pressing the pillow to my face to muffle my screams, and that’s when the knock sounded at the door. I pushed him away so hard he hit his lip on my knee, but I was barely able to pull my skirt back down before the door opened and Eddie’s head poked into my office.

  He cleared his throat and looked down to the wood floor, but not before I caught him grinning. “Jake just pulled into the lot. I thought you should know.”

  John licked at the blood that glistened on his bottom lip and nodded. “Thanks, Eddie.”

  Eddie closed the door without saying another word, and I stood, pulled my panties up, and turned around to face John.

  “Oh my God.” I smoothed my hands over my face then began patting down my hair, because I was sure it looked as crazy as I felt right now.

  John took a tissue from my desk and dabbed his lip as another knock sounded at the door. I looked over at him, feeling guilty, panicked, and so many other things I didn’t have a name for.