by Regina Cole
He blinked. And blinked again.
She was standing at the stove, humming as she stirred something in a pan. There were pink straps crisscrossing her back, a pert bow tied above her ass. Her naked ass. She was naked except for an apron, and if his nose was correct, she was cooking breakfast in the nude.
“Good morning,” he said, smiling wolfishly as he leaned onto her bar.
She yelped and turned quickly, her spatula still in hand. “God, Rob, you scared me.”
“Sorry. Was just admiring the view.”
She blushed then, a beautiful pinkening that he was pleased to see ran straight down her breasts, which he could glimpse past the upper portion of the apron. “I thought you might like some breakfast in bed.”
He slipped onto the bar stool. “I’d much rather watch you make the breakfast.”
Her hand whipped behind her then, as if she was checking to make sure she was still naked. “Yeah. I thought, maybe, I should try being a little more confident.”
“I definitely approve.”
She turned back to the stove then, glancing at him over her shoulder, and resumed her stirring.
He waited an appropriate amount of time, but eventually the temptation was too great. Her squeal when he grabbed her generous ass was incredibly satisfying.
“Rob!”
“You’re too delicious,” he said, nuzzling the nape of her neck, where a few curls had escaped the messy topknot of her hair. “Forget breakfast, I want to eat you up.”
“It’s almost done. You can have me for dessert.”
With her dismissal clear, he meekly retreated to the bar stool to wait.
Once turkey bacon and oatmeal had been consumed—pretty damn good, too, he had to admit—they showered together. The whole time he mentally rehearsed what he would say.
Would he come right out and just do it? Begin with saying how much she meant to him? Or how proud he was of her for embracing her flaws and becoming the woman she’d wanted to be?
He still hadn’t decided while they were getting dressed and Stacey’s phone chirped at her.
“Crap,” she said with a grimace. “Hannah’s brother is on his way with the truck. I’m giving Hannah my living room furniture.”
“Right, the move,” he said casually, as if it had just come to mind. He’d thought about almost nothing else all morning. His question wouldn’t have an easy answer if she was still determined to hightail it out of the city. “Where were you planning to go?”
“Wilmington. My family is there,” she said, shaking her head as she finished buttoning her top.
Easing down on the bed, he looked at his hands, which he’d folded between his knees. “Was that plan set in stone?”
She stopped, one button halfway in its hole. “It’s not—well, no. I just didn’t see any reason to stay here with my job up in smoke and us, well, whatever we were.”
Pinning her with a direct gaze, he went for it. “You don’t have to go anywhere if you don’t want to. You could stay with me. I love you, Stacey. I don’t want us to be apart again.”
She didn’t move for a long moment, and he wondered whether he had done things wrong. Said enough? Too much?
“I would love to stay with you.” She smiled, and her eyes grew wet. Rubbing at them quickly, she laughed. “I never wanted to leave your house anyway, but I figured I’d never get back.”
He stood and pulled her into his arms. “I love you, Stacey Hough. I want you to be my wife. Will you?”
“Yes.” She laughed, tilting her chin to look into his eyes. “I’d love to marry you.”
And he kissed her, thanking his lucky stars that the universe had brought to him the one woman who completed him. She’d come to him for help, but she was the one who had made him whole.
Epilogue
One year to the day after Richard Armstrong Liston’s death, Stacey and Rob stood hand in hand, watching his ashes drift away on the tide.
They’d been married the evening before, in Stacey’s hometown of Wilmington, in a small ceremony. Only Sabrina and Rob’s childhood best friend, Scott, were in attendance, to act as witnesses. There would be a reception back home in Atlanta, and another for Stacey’s family in Wilmington in a couple of days.
With the sea breeze at their backs, and their hands entwined, Stacey leaned her head against Rob’s strong arm.
“Do you think he would be happy?”
Rob smiled. “Probably not outwardly. He’d make some gruff comment about how I shouldn’t be wasting time on sentimental crap, and should go back to school and make something of myself. But inwardly? Yeah. I think he’d definitely be happy.”
“Are you happy?”
He turned to Stacey, and she looked up into the stormy gray of his eyes. “How could I be anything less than happy when the most wonderful woman in the world is now mine?”
Stacey wound her arms around his neck, happier and more in love than she ever could have imagined. “Lucky for you, you’re stuck with me forever.”
“Lucky for me,” he agreed, and he kissed her.
Don’t miss the first steamy romance from Regina Cole.
ONE TOUCH
Eliza’s last relationship ended in ruins, and she’s anything but eager to jump back into something serious. A trip to Hawaii for her best friend’s wedding couldn’t come at a better time.
Showing up without a date is the least of her worries.
In fact, it may even play into her wildest fantasies when the perfect hunk of a man appears before her . . .
ONE LOOK
With Chandler’s divorce behind him he’s ready to move on, so he heads to Hawaii for his cousin’s wedding. The moment his eyes encounter Eliza’s sultry curves and sensual lips, he’s more than ready for a night of nonstop sex. But despite the heat of their unbridled carnal pleasure, Eliza is still afraid to tell him about her forbidden desires. And when their casual affair follows them home, it threatens to alter their lives forever.
Keep reading for a special excerpt.
Chapter 1
The cart had a flat spot on one wheel, and the thump was driving Eliza insane. But there was no way she was going to take the time to go back to the front of the small grocery store and swap it out. She’d already seen three people she knew, and two of them had looked away almost instantly. After this much time it shouldn’t hurt, but it still did. Being a pariah in her hometown wasn’t exactly how she’d pictured living her life, but it was her reality now.
Setting her jaw, Eliza moved through the produce section and checked her list. Spinach, cucumbers, tomatoes . . . If she shopped smart, she wouldn’t have to do this again for a month. Getting fresh veggies only once a month wasn’t ideal, but neither was living in a town that was convinced she was some kind of sexual deviant.
Her ratty sneakers didn’t make a sound on the polished floor of the grocery store. The cart was half full, and as she rounded the final corner toward the registers, her name smacked her in the back of the head like a mallet.
“Eliza Jackson! Oh my God, it is you.”
She winced, then turned. “Oh, hey, Marshall.” Eliza crossed her arms to cover the worst of the holes in her Green Day T-shirt. Part of the fun of being a chemist was ruined clothes when coworkers weren’t as careful with chemicals as they should be. “How are you?”
Marshall looked her up and down, a somewhat leering smile on his face as he adjusted his grocery basket. “I’m doing great. You still at Quality Testing?”
“Yeah. I’m lead chemist in the pharmaceutical division.” Eliza smiled politely, even though her insides were shaking. She wasn’t stupid. This wasn’t an old high school friend interested in catching up. This was something else entirely. “What about you?”
“Eh, I’m at Eubank Financial. Anyway, I heard you dated Tyler Hagans for a while. He’s a buddy of mine.”
Eliza’s hands tightened into fists, and her smile froze.
Marshall continued, oblivious to her discomfort. “I have to say, I d
idn’t know you were gay.”
Her teeth hurt as she clamped them together hard. Her words were muffled as she spoke without releasing the clench of her jaw. “I’m not gay.”
Marshall’s laugh was mocking. “From what I heard, liking girls is the least weird thing about you. Anyway, you go do what you do. Have fun, but watch out. I’ve heard some of that kinky stuff you’re into is illegal.”
With a wink, Marshall turned and walked away, leaving Eliza to stare after him in shock and hurt.
When she could breathe without her chest feeling like it was cracking in half, Eliza turned and pushed her thumping grocery cart to the checkout line. But before she could start loading her items onto the conveyer belt, the cashier flipped off the lighted number 1 sign.
“Sorry,” she said, giving Eliza a distrustful look. “This lane is closed.”
Closing her eyes for a second, Eliza took a deep breath, then pulled her cart to the express lane, which was the only one left open. The red-shirted manager gave her a look, but started scanning her items anyway.
“Thanks,” Eliza muttered as she accepted her change and receipt. The guy didn’t say anything, just gave her a tight-lipped smile before cheerfully greeting the customer behind her.
Blasting her favorite band’s latest album all the way home didn’t help improve Eliza’s mood. It hurt, damn it, and she was tired of pretending it didn’t. By the time she made the left onto her street, her jaw ached and her eyes stung.
She hadn’t done anything wrong. She’d just been honest about her fantasies, and when she and Tyler had broken up over it, he’d trumpeted her most secret desire to the world, complete with embellishments. It was the worst kind of betrayal, and even now, six months later, she wasn’t sure how to deal with the hurt. Other than to hide in her house and vow to spend the rest of her life as a celibate hermit, that is.
Throwing the gearshift into Park, Eliza released her seat belt in the same motion. Silence fell over her like a blanket as she cut the engine. Her skull thumped back against the headrest and she blew out a breath. This was nothing new.
“It doesn’t matter,” Eliza grunted as she shoved open the car door. The cool breeze hit her skin, raising goose bumps in its wake. Trudging across her lawn with her grocery bags dangling from her forearms, Eliza fumbled through her keys to find the one for her front door. She was so distracted that she almost tripped over the box on her front steps.
“What the hell?”
Bending low, she examined the label. It had come from North Carolina. Maybe it was Bree? A shot of excitement tore through her, and she trotted up the stairs and pushed through the front door in a matter of seconds.
Dumping her bags and keys at the table by the door, Eliza turned and headed back to the stoop. Her blood pumped with anticipation as she carried the package through her messy house and straight to the kitchen table. Grabbing one of the knives from the butcher block on the counter, she grinned.
“What have you sent me, Sabrina?”
The sharp knife made quick, neat slices through the packing tape, then clattered to the table as Eliza abandoned it to pull open the cardboard flaps.
“What in the world is this?”
It was pink. Not just pink—pink was much too tame a name for this color. As Eliza withdrew the scraps of fabric from the box, dangling from their tiny strings, she decided that the only real name she could give that color was fuchsia. Or maybe magenta. Or maybe a color off the spectrum that hadn’t been named yet. She had to blink three times to ease the pain from the brightness. And it wasn’t just pink, it was a pink bikini.
Digging through the rest of the box, which contained the other half of the magenta monstrosity, a bottle of sunscreen, and a tank top with some sparkly letters on it, Eliza finally came up with an envelope from the bottom of the box. Her name was written in Bree’s extra-swirly cursive.
The paper crinkled as Eliza ripped open the envelope and unfolded the letter. A plane ticket fell out. Eliza barely glanced at it; she was already reading.
Liza,
I hope you like the little care package I sent you! If you’ve already read the tank top, you know that I’m asking you to be my bridesmaid. I know it’s kind of presumptuous to buy your plane ticket without asking you first, but you’re always complaining that you never get to go anywhere, so here it is! I’m flying you out to Hawaii for our wedding, which is November 9th. You can stay the whole week, our treat! You’re such a good friend, Liza, please say you’ll come and be my bridesmaid.
Love you bunches! Call me after you’re done reading so we can celebrate together!
Bree
When she realized that her tongue was actually drying out, Eliza closed her mouth and let the paper flutter to the tabletop.
She’d known Bree was dating a guy, but she hadn’t known it was serious. And a wedding in Hawaii, only a month away? Eliza shook her head. Damn. Bree didn’t waste any time.
After yanking open the refrigerator and taking a regenerating swig of apple juice, Eliza went down the hall to retrieve her cell phone. A mound of bags in front of the door jogged her memory. Oh yeah, the groceries. She should probably start putting those away.
Tucking the phone in the crook of her shoulder, she hauled the bags to the kitchen.
“Oh my God, Liza! Hey!”
“Hey Bree, I got your little box of goodies.” Eliza winced at Bree’s delighted squeal, which went straight through her eardrum.
“Ohmygod, isn’t it the best news ever? You can come, though, right?”
“Well,” Eliza drew out the word as she pulled open the door to her pantry. “I’m not sure.”
“Why not?”
Eliza sighed, her arms full of canned goods. “It’s a long way away, and I’m not sure if I can get off work—”
“Horseshit.” Bree’s tone was firm. “You haven’t taken a vacation in three years, and I know it. They can do without you for a week.”
“I’m just not sure if I feel comfortable. I don’t really know any of your family other than your crazy mom, so I’ll be kind of lonely, and—”
“If you can honestly tell me you’re not lonely there at home, then I’ll lay off you.”
Bree had been the one friend Eliza had confided in after the shit with Tyler blew up. She knew how miserable Eliza had been, had even begged her to move down to North Carolina and work for her father’s company. The offer had been tempting, but Eliza couldn’t stand the thought of leaving her hometown. Even if that same hometown hated her.
“Fine,” Eliza groaned. “I’ll go. But I’m going to regret it. I’ve got to go shopping, find stuff to wear so I won’t embarrass you.”
“You won’t. It’s going to be awesome.”
“And no fixing me up. Promise me, Bree.”
The silence on the other end of the line was suspect, and Eliza raised her brow. “Bree . . .”
“Fine.” Bree’s exasperated tone made Eliza grin. “Deal. But promise me you’ll keep an open mind, all right? There are a few guys there that I think would be perfect for you. You know that Tyler was a small-minded asshole, and there are tons of guys who’d kill for someone more adventurous in bed.”
Eliza pretended not to hear that last part. “Okay, let me get going. I’ve got a lot to do if I’m going to be ready to go in, oh, twenty-four days.”
Once the call was disconnected, Eliza took a deep breath. Okay. She could do this. And the more she thought about it, the better it felt. Get away from all the small-minded smalltown people? Maybe she could even pretend to be someone else, someone confident, who owned their slightly unorthodox sexuality.
She allowed herself a small, genuine smile. Maybe Eliza the hermit could become Eliza the bombshell for a few days.
24 days later . . .
Eliza’s heels clicked against the tiled floor of the airport. Shifting the strap of her carry-on on her shoulder, she wobbled just a little, but pulled it back before it turned into a stumble.
Why the hell had she
thought it’d be a good idea to wear high-heeled boots to fly? Waiting until she’d actually reached Hawaii to begin her bombshell routine seemed like a much better idea now. She’d held up the TSA security line for a good three minutes while she fumbled with the zipper on the left one. They were still new and kind of stiff, which didn’t exactly make for easy removal. And then her gate had been all the way at the ass end of the airport. Of course. After that, though, the first leg of her trip had been fine. Now she just had to make it to her connecting flight without falling on her face. Hopefully she’d get used to walking in these monsters before she showed up at the resort. There, the last thing she wanted to look like was herself.
“Sneakers,” she said beneath her breath as she glanced at the flight monitors mounted to the wall. “Sneakers for the return flight. That or flip-flops. I don’t care if it’s November.”
A speaker crackled overhead, barely audible over the noise and chatter of the busy airport. Eliza pulled at her dove-gray pencil skirt, which was trying to ride up as she walked. She needed to hustle; the flight would be boarding sometime in the next ten minutes, and she was still five or six gates away. It was gate C-4, wasn’t it? She should probably check.
Shoving her long brown hair back out of the way for about the twentieth time that day, she unzipped her bag and started to dig through it. Of course she’d had to pull everything out at the security desk because of the whole boot fiasco, and her other boarding pass had been shoved in there somewhere. But walking and digging through her bag at the same time wasn’t the easiest thing to do in three-inch heels.
Glancing back to make sure nobody was close behind her, Eliza ducked to the side of the busy corridor and started digging in earnest. Was it maybe in her medicine bag? Nope, just her vitamins, Tylenol, various just-in-case cold and flu meds. Oh, maybe she’d stuck it in the little lingerie bag. No, not there, either. After another minute, her bag was in shambles and she still hadn’t laid a finger on her boarding pass.
