by Maisey Yates
“I don’t think so. But then, it’s not like I keep real close tabs on Eli and Kate.” He pulled his jeans on, and Liss’s stomach sank. It was disappointing to watch him cover his body back up. Like watching someone box up a beautiful gift, only moments after she’d opened it.
“Well—” she set to work hooking her bra “—I thought maybe you knew something I didn’t. Like, maybe the city council plays lawn darts here on Sunday afternoons.”
“If they do, it’s secret lawn darts, and they’re illegally trespassing.”
“You’re no fun,” she said, finding her panties and pulling them on before straightening out her dress, shaking the sand out of it. “I think if the city council was having a secret, illegal lawn dart game on your property, you would have to throw your support behind it.”
“I would not.”
She shrugged her dress on and started doing the buttons up. “Then you’ll be forever known as that cranky Connor Garrett who wouldn’t let politicians engage in a friendly game of lawn darts down by the river.”
“Honey,” he said, pulling his T-shirt over his head, pulling the hem down over his abs, a slow, reverse strip show that ended in disappointment instead of confetti and glitter, “I am already known as that cranky Connor Garrett.”
“No, you aren’t.”
He raised his brows. “Yes, I am. Sad, cranky, widower Connor Garrett. I’ll probably never be known as anything else.”
“Unless you grow your beard longer and start weaving flowers into it like those weird hipster kids do. Then they’ll probably call you Connor Garrett, sad, cranky, widower, flower beard.”
She did the last button on her dress and stood, brushing the last remnants of sand from the flimsy fabric. And then they were both dressed, and it was almost as if they hadn’t just had sex on the blanket. Anyone just joining them might believe all they had done was eat turkey sandwiches and gone for an innocent swim.
Except...
“What did you do with the condom?”
For the second time in as many days, she seemed to have made Connor Garrett blush. “Picnic basket,” he said quickly, his words running together.
“You put a used condom in my picnic basket?”
“If I had buried it in the sand, like, a fox would have come and dug it up and dragged it somewhere. Probably deposited it at my feet while I’m trying to work or something. Then I’m going to have to explain why there’s a used condom on my property.”
“First of all, I don’t think a fox is going to bring the used condom to your feet. Second of all, there are a lot of explanations for why a used condom might be on your property. Reason one—post city council lawn dart orgy.”
“A duck might choke on it.” His face was so comically serious that Liss could not hold back the laughter that was building in her chest.
“Okay, fair enough. Please tell me you did not put it in one of my bowls.”
He looked away.
“Connor,” she said, shaking her head. “Gross.”
“It was that or endangering wildlife. Or foxes digging in the sand.”
“Okay, I’m going to let that go. You know, if I ever told anyone about this, there would definitely be some new adjectives assigned to you.”
“No,” he said, his expression still serious.
“I won’t,” she said, putting her hands up.
This was weird, because they were giving each other a hard time, like usual. Talking about the absurd. Like the friends they had always been. Only, they were talking about the sex they had just had. Or rather, the aftermath.
Connor had drawn a pretty clear line in the metaphorical sand yesterday. And today she felt as though it had been blurred irreparably. Down there in the actual sand.
“I suppose we better head back. Everyone is coming up for dinner.”
She cringed inwardly. “Great.”
“About as great as sticking your dick in a beehive.”
“I’ll take your word for it.”
At least he hadn’t stumbled over that word. So he seemed to feel less awkward this time, as opposed to last time. Which meant more sex was making things better. She was going to ponder that.
* * *
DINNER HAD BEEN a lot less awkward than Connor had imagined it would be. He’d managed to, more or less, make eye contact with Liss when they spoke, rather than looking down at her breasts, and he had managed to make it through the meal without thinking too much about their encounter down by the river. Which was good, because the last thing he wanted to do was imagine what it had been like to lick water off Liss’s bare skin while sitting across from his younger sister.
Things had not devolved into awkward double entendre that felt specific to what he and Liss had been involved in, either, which was a nice change. Though the fact that Jack hadn’t been there had probably helped with that.
Now everyone was gone, leaving him with a stack of dirty dishes and the prospect of dealing with Liss one-on-one. Lucky, lucky him.
He went straight to the sink and for the dishes. Which was unusual for him, but honestly, it seemed a lot less scary than trying to figure out what the hell was going on between him and his best friend. Because he had made a decision yesterday, and today he had violated that decision. And he couldn’t even bring himself to feel that sorry about it.
He felt a lot sorrier about the fact that he now had to deal with the fallout. Again. This felt a whole lot like history repeating itself.
Again, he recalled something from school. Something about those who don’t learn from history being doomed to repeat it.
Apparently, his penis was a slow learner.
And apparently also, something about Liss reminded him of school. Maybe because they had been friends since they were in school.
This was so fucked up.
And he felt as if he was due for something un-fucked but he couldn’t seem to manage that.
Really, he should’ve just burned off his newfound sexual desire with some buckle bunny down at the bar. But no, he’d opted to do it with his best friend.
That wasn’t strictly true. The decision had been taken out of his hands. Or rather, he had taken things into hand in the shower, and then they had gotten out of hand, and then he had kissed Liss, and everything had felt a little beyond his control. Or a lot.
Right, like you weren’t totally complicit in the decision-making down by the river today.
He scowled and turned the tap on, waiting for the water to warm up before dumping the dishes into the empty sink. Yes, he was complicit and shit. But that didn’t make it a good decision.
“You’re doing dishes?” Liss’s surprised voice came from behind him, jerking him out of his self-pitying thoughts.
He didn’t turn around. “They aren’t going to do themselves.”
“No, I know that. It’s just that usually they are more likely to do themselves than they are to have you do them.” She cleared her throat. “Incidentally, a lot like my orgasms. Except for lately.”
He whirled around. “That’s how you’re going to open up the conversation?”
“There is no smooth, nonawkward way to do it.”
She had a point. “Fine. Speak your piece.”
“I disagreed with your unilateral no-sex decree yesterday.”
“I sort of figured that. Seeing as you stripped naked in front of me this afternoon.”
“Yes, well, I was going to just talk to you about my feelings. What I was thinking. And then, all things considered, I decided I would just show you. But now I imagine we can’t avoid the talking anymore.” Whiskey-colored eyes met his. “We need to talk about this.”
“You know, that’s the perk of being with the same person from the time you’re too young to care about anything enough to want to talk about it.”<
br />
“What does that mean?”
“When you’re young, you don’t ask a lot of questions. You don’t worry about too much. You like being with someone, you want to get in their pants, that’s pretty much love, and it’s a done deal. But then you get to be in your thirties. And you have marriages, and jobs, and bad credit and enough carry-on baggage to ground a plane while they rebalance the load.” He dragged a hand over his face and grimaced when he realized it was wet from the sink water. “Now I want to get in your pants, and I want to be your best friend. And I want things to stay the same. And I need things to change. And nothing is simple.”
She cleared her throat. “I guess so. But then, when you’re young, I’m not sure things are really simpler or if you’re just missing the depth in everything. The possibilities. You see things big and simple. Like growing up here, I used to look around and see nothing but a lot of green and boring. And when it came to sex? You have friends, or you have lovers. They can’t be the same. They don’t even hang out in the same group. But I think the perk of being in your thirties is that you realize there’s more than that. Now I don’t look out there and see a simple blanket of green. There are so many shades of green in those trees, Connor. It can be deep or bright, cold or warm. Tinted with blue, covered in snow. I see so much more now. So it makes me wonder, why can’t we be lovers right now and stay friends?”
“Anything that sounds that good is doomed to fail,” he said, realizing as the bitter words fell from his lips just how deeply he believed them.
Liss bit her lip and closed the distance between them, wrapping her arms around his waist and resting her head on his chest. Connor’s throat felt tight all of a sudden. He raised his hand and kept it at the back of her head, holding her against him.
“That isn’t true. There are good things. There will be more good things.” She moved her hands over his back, the movement soothing, but also sensual. Which only added to the confusion.
“I know. There have been...a lot of good things.” He took a deep breath. “I mean, maybe there have been. I haven’t been looking for them. I... Everyone leaves. One way or another. And...every time I think about changing something, or meeting someone, or building my barn...” He couldn’t get the rest of the sentence out.
“I’m still here,” she said, her voice muffled against his chest. “I’m not going anywhere.”
He tightened his hold on her. “What if I mess it up?”
She pulled away from him slightly, meeting his eyes. “Connor, you are the best friend I have ever had. You’re also the best sex I’ve ever had. How can that go wrong?”
“Don’t ask that. It’s me we’re talking about here.”
“Right. Cranky Connor Garrett. With the flower beard, the overactive fox-related imagination and a very nice-sized package.”
He snorted. “I do not put flowers in my beard. I’ll let you go ahead and keep the rest of it.”
“See? This is working.”
He gripped her chin between his thumb and forefinger. “And what about when it stops working?”
“We’ll go back to the way things were before. But do you honestly think we can go back right now? Maybe later. Maybe after we...burn some of this off.”
In truth, standing with her right now, touching her as if he had every right, he could not imagine going back to a world where touching her wouldn’t be appropriate. Touch had been missing from his life for a long time. Now that it had been restored, in all its glory, he was reluctant to let it go.
Most especially when it came to Liss.
He was trying to take forward motion and he supposed, all things considered, that meant it wasn’t a good time to take a step backward with Liss.
If it was even a step backward. Maybe sex would be a step backward. He couldn’t tell anymore. But one of the options meant that he could keep having sex. And he was leaning heavily toward that option.
Since he had stopped filling the deep dark hole in himself with alcohol, it seemed as if his body was trying to compensate by filling it with sex. Or, less complex, perhaps he was just a man. And beginning to remember that fact.
Though he disliked reducing his attraction to Liss to something that basic. But then, the sex part could be basic, he supposed. His feelings weren’t. But they were separate. And that was the beauty in it. That was a whole new shade of green.
If what Liss said was true, they could have this and then go right back to how things were before. He wasn’t sure if he believed her.
But he hadn’t been the same for a long time.
He hadn’t wanted anything for a long time.
But he wanted her.
Whatever the hell that meant, wherever the hell it led.
“You’re being very quiet, Connor.”
“I’m not sure what to say.”
“Something curmudgeonly?”
“I didn’t really think this was the time.”
“Then...just tell me that you want me. Because I want you, and it feels very exposing to admit that.” She shivered beneath his touch, her eyes wide, so very vulnerable. And touched something deep in him that he hadn’t even known was still there.
He tightened his hold on her. “I doubt a lot of things, Liss. But one thing I don’t doubt, and one thing you don’t need to doubt, is that I want you. Simple as that.”
“As simple and complicated as that.”
“It’s like you said, there are a lot of shades of green. Maybe there are a lot of shades of friendship, too.”
“That was almost...profound.”
“I have spent a lot of time inside my head the past few years. Something profound should come out of my mouth once in a while.”
“Profound, not profane.”
He laughed. “Oh, right. Never mind, then. Profane is a whole lot more likely.”
She extricated herself from his hold and took a step back. “So what do we do now?”
“Dishes?” She frowned at his suggestion. Of course, the first answer he had given her off the cuff, and it was the wrong one. That seemed about right. “Or something else,” he added.
“Oh, you were about to do dishes. So that seems fair.”
This strange, domestically tinged conversation pushed a line of tension up his spine, inch by inch, tightening his muscles.
It was too close to something he’d experienced before. Too close to the kind of thing he wasn’t ready for again. Not now, probably not ever.
And he’d love to avoid it, but he and Liss lived together, so avoiding it wasn’t possible.
Plus, she was Liss. He didn’t hide from her.
“I guess that kind of leads into another conversation that is serious, and most definitely one I don’t want to have.”
“We don’t have to have serious conversations,” she said, turning toward the sink.
“Yes, we do. Because sex is serious. I mean, it is for me. I’m not Jack. I never will be. Even if I’m never ready for another serious relationship, I’m not going to go out and sleep with a bunch of strangers. Taking my clothes off with someone...being in someone...it means something to me.”
“Well, it means a lot to me, too. I just meant...”
“I know. You’re trying to spare me. But I think to avoid as much awkwardness as possible, and hopefully any hurt feelings, we do need some ground rules.” He wasn’t sure how he was the one spearheading this conversation. But he felt as if it had to be done. They were living in the same house, after all, and he desperately needed to establish boundaries.
For a lot of reasons, his sanity being chief among them.
“Okay, lay down your ground rules,” she said, sweeping her hand across the room in a grand gesture.
He had a big one, and she probably wouldn’t like it. But standing here, in his kitchen, with Liss in her ba
re feet, he knew he had to say it.
Sleeping together, holding each other all night, waking up tangled together...that was an intimacy he couldn’t quite face.
And it definitely crossed the boundaries of friendship into...something else.
Lust was one thing, sex was another thing, but drooling onto your pillow right next to someone, waking up with morning wood and morning breath. Needing sex and also needing to pee...
Yeah, that was marriage shit.
That was the kind of thing he wanted to stay well away from.
He cleared his throat. “I think sleeping together is off the table.”
Her facial features seemed to lower half an inch at that statement. “But you just said you wanted me.”
“I do. But I’m making a distinction right now between sleeping together and having sex with each other,” he said, shifting uncomfortably. Because this was uncomfortable. On a lot of levels.
“Okay. I understand that,” she said, but her voice, along with her frame, had shrunk slightly, and he could see that she didn’t really understand.
“Liss, I think it’s important to make sure we keep things kind of...kept in their own corral.”
Her brow crinkled, and the corners of her mouth turned down. “Mmm, cowboy sex wisdom.”
“If you want cowboy sex, you have to put up with the wisdom.”
“I get what you’re saying. Boundaries.”
“Exactly. Like, the property line of friendship extends to this point, and no further, and beyond that is the lover part.”
“I think you have a breakdown in your metaphor.”
“Probably.”
“So when do we... How do we... There is no nonembarrassing way to ask you this.”
“Is there anything to be embarrassed about between us anymore? You’ve seen me hungover. You’ve seen me naked. I had to admit to putting a condom in your picnic basket.”
“Good point. But...it’s not like when you’re in a relationship, then. Because when you’re sleeping with someone, you just do it when you get in bed.”
