by Anna Sugden
She rolled the condom on him slowly, watching the muscles in his legs tense. She ran her palms over the coarse hair covering his thighs. “Now what?”
“Lie down.”
She scooted back on the bed until her head was on the pillow. He followed her slowly and gently settled himself between her legs.
“You’ll stop me if I do something you don’t like, and it won’t be a big deal.”
She was pretty sure he said it more for his own benefit than for hers, but she nodded. “Yup. FYI, Bossy Wes works for me.”
“All right, well, Bossy Wes says you’re the most beautiful woman he’s ever been with.”
“Not funny.”
“It’s true. There is no comparison.”
She ran her fingers down his back, all the way down to his butt, then pinched.
“Bossy Wes does not approve.”
“Mmm, Bossy Wes can feel free to punish me.”
“Hmm.” He trailed fingers up the side of her calf slowly. Like ridiculously slowly. Then he kissed her knee, her thigh and her hip bone right above the edge of her panties.
It was all slow and attentive and not at all what she’d imagined when he’d grabbed her and kissed her in the doorway. But he kept kissing. Her belly button, her side, between her breasts.
Even with all the Bossy Wes jokes, it was unbearably sweet. Meaningful. How was this happening, when they’d been yelling at each other in a bar parking lot fifteen minutes ago? When meaningful was the last thing she wanted?
He kissed her collarbone from one side all the way to the other. “Wes...what...” She didn’t even know what she was trying to say. This was too much. It made her feel all vulnerable and emotional and—oh, damn him.
“I am not willing to walk away from this yet.” He positioned himself at her entrance, flexing his right hand before shifting to his forearms.
“Does your hand—” He thrust deep, and anything she would have asked about him being okay turned into a groan.
Any hesitation or timidity or pauses that had happened the first few times they’d had sex were gone. Wes set the speed. His hands roamed. He kissed her mouth, her neck, her shoulder. It was all very purposeful and certain.
You did that. Oh, such a weird thought. It made her stomach flip and the excitement in her belly tighten and sharpen.
He increased the pace, his hand clamping on to her hip, finding the right spot that had her arching her back, crying out and spiraling into orgasm.
He wasn’t far behind, pushing deep on a low moan, his left hand still gripping her hip tight as he leaned all his weight on to his right forearm.
She wanted to cozy in, hold him, not let go, but he pulled his head back, looking directly at her. It made her uncomfortable.
“Wes.”
His hand slid from her hip, up her side, shoulder and neck, to cup her face, his eyes never breaking their gaze on hers. “You’re beautiful and amazing. You are.” He was so earnest, and he kept holding her face so she couldn’t look away. Not from the truth in his gorgeous blue eyes. “I’m bad at all of this, but never doubt that.”
“You know, if I can’t be down on myself, and my friends can’t make fun of each other, then you have to stop saying how bad you are at things.”
“I don’t—” He rolled off her, though he kept her close. He blew out a breath. “Okay, I’ll work on it.” She handed him some tissues so he could get rid of the condom. He was quiet for a long time after that, his fingers trailing back and forth over her shoulder.
“You were somewhat right,” he said quietly. “There was some projecting. Hiding is my coping thing. You can’t get hurt or watch other people get hurt if you’re alone. People can’t hurt you as much, but I guess it doesn’t change that it happens.”
“I’ve known my friends since we were, like, babies. I keep telling myself they...don’t mean anything by it.”
“Okay, maybe that’s true, but why be with people who say nasty things about you, even if they don’t mean it? Do your sisters do that to you?”
“Well, no, but they’re different.”
“But—” he scrubbed a hand over his face “—one of the things we talked about in therapy was surrounding yourself with things that make you happy. That make you feel right. It’s like with the pie thing and doing it in a non-stressful environment. You undermine the triggers when you can.”
“Did you sex me into a puddle so you could therapize me?”
“I like you.”
“Aw, honey, I like you, too.” She let out a gusty sigh. “But I don’t want to keep having the same fight with you.” And she didn’t want to feel as if this was real, even though that’s what it felt like right this minute. He had a point about...choosing how she spent her time and with whom. About undermining the triggers.
The fact of the matter was, her friends made her feel like less. Like a failure. And she already felt that way enough on her own. She’d actually been oddly happier without them the past few weeks, even with all the stuff with Wes.
“Do you think we’re having the same fight, or is it evolving?”
She shook her head. Sometimes she couldn’t believe what came out of his mouth. “You know, when the cute guy with the shaggy hair helped me up after my vicious dog attack—”
He snorted, so she gave him a little push. “I never thought I’d be having conversations about evolving and triggers and... You’re kind of amazing yourself. I just hate that you’re right all the time.”
He grinned, but then she felt him shift and he flexed his hand again. “Your hand is bothering you.”
He shrugged. “That’s what it does.”
“When’s your surgery?”
He shrugged again. “Not sure yet.”
“Is there anything I can do to help? Ice? A heating pad?”
“It’s fine.” He sat up, grabbing his pants from the edge of the bed. “I should get going.”
His injuries were a sore spot. She imagined the hand bothered him the most since that’s what had kept him from becoming a vet. Even though she was a little disappointed there wasn’t something she could do to help, she didn’t have any right to push.
So, she worked up a smile and patted her bed. “You could stay.”
He tugged on the jeans, covering up most of the fun. “I’d like to, really, but I have to get back to the dogs.”
“Oh.”
He grabbed his boots, then paused. “You could come with.”
“You sure? I use up a lot of hot water in the morning.”
“I’m sure. In fact, if you come, maybe Bossy Wes will make another appearance.”
“Jokes and bossy sex. Man, I really am good for you.”
He got that thoughtful look on his face, then leaned down and kissed her forehead. “You really are.”
Melted. Dead. That was her. It made her want to decline the offer, back out. But she didn’t want to be the girl who kept giving him mixed signals. They were dating. She had to remind herself from time to time that Wes was someone she was helping have some fun.
Definitely not someone she was falling for.
* * *
THE PAIN WAS UNBEARABLE. Sharp. Burning. Everywhere. A dream mixed up with reality.
When he finally managed to get his eyes open and sit up, Phantom was at the edge of the bed, pressing his nose to Wes’s side.
Wes sat perfectly still for a few seconds, but Cara didn’t stir. He slid out of bed and did his best to tiptoe out of the room, Phantom padding after him.
He flexed his hand, then rested it on top of Phantom’s head. It didn’t help the pain, but it helped him remember to breathe.
He was lucky enough not to suffer from dreams of the explosion too often. Just every once in a while, when the pain was particularly bad. It was less of a dream and more snatches of memory.
The blast. The heat. The pain.
Phantom whimpered, leaning against Wes’s legs. Yeah, he needed to let it go. Doing his best to be quiet, he eased the front door ope
n and stepped out onto the porch. Late spring evening was cool without being cold. It was a clear night, all stars and moon. The sound of frogs and insects buzzing worked together to form the low hum of the woods at night.
He took a deep breath and let it out, trying to push the memories and the pain out with it. It didn’t make them disappear, but the dream faded even if the pain didn’t.
He needed to make the appointment for surgery. Or get a second opinion. Or something. He needed to act.
But the sad fact was, he’d rather ignore it. Put it off for another day. He could live with a little pain. He’d lived with it so far. Not like it was going to cause any more damage. The damage had been caused.
Tension crept into his shoulders even as he knelt down to pet Phantom. He didn’t want to be thinking about any of this. He just wanted it to go away.
The door creaked. “Wes?”
He stood and turned to Cara, who he could barely make out in the dark. “Sorry, thought I heard Shrimp. Must have been opossums or raccoons.” He wasn’t sure why the lie popped out. Why he wasn’t straight with her about the pain. He was straight with her about everything else.
But he didn’t want to worry her. He didn’t want that at all between them.
He’d rather pretend it didn’t exist. He might be able to change some pieces of himself, some beliefs, some ways he handled the world, but his injuries were there. Always. Irrevocable. Talking or worrying about them would be completely pointless.
She leaned against his back. “Mmm. So pretty out here.”
He looked up at the sky, littered with stars and the Milky Way and a near-full moon. “Yeah.” He shifted, hopefully subtly, so that he could put his left arm around her shoulders.
“You okay? You’re all tense.”
“Just hoping it’s not an opossum. They’re disgusting.”
“The dogs don’t chase them off?”
Didn’t think that lie through, did he? “Lazy.”
She laughed at that, then took his face in her hands. “Come back to bed, honey.” She pulled him toward the door, then looked at Phantom on his heels.
“Phantom. Stay.”
Wes watched as Phantom sat, head cocked. He didn’t always take orders from others, but apparently Cara was an exception.
Yeah, that seemed about right.
“He listened to me,” she said, clearly pleased with herself. “You better watch out. He’s going to want to come live with me and Sweetness, too.”
“I wouldn’t blame him a bit.”
She tugged his right arm, and he fought against the outward reaction to the sharp pain. Since she kept tugging, she obviously didn’t notice. And he’d take a lot of pain to keep it that way.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
“AT SOME POINT, someone is going to see us and call the cops.”
Cara disentangled herself from Wes. “I don’t think it’s illegal to make out in a car.”
“It might be in a farmers’ market full of people.”
She peered out the window. “Please, there’s barely anyone here. Besides, it’s nothing I haven’t caught Mia and Dell doing.” Of course, that had been the morning they got engaged.
The lung-squeezing feeling that was becoming practically second nature coiled in her chest. She was in some sort of vortex. One she wanted to get out of, but it kept sucking her deeper.
Deeper into feelings with Wes. Lots of sex and making out in cars and just wanting to be with him.
Stop it. “Well, let’s get to work, then.” She popped out of Wes’s truck, already trying to come up with an excuse to have Mia drive her home. Maybe if she managed to get some distance from him and his damn wonderfulness, she could figure out how to extricate herself from this mess where she was in an actual relationship and enjoying it.
She was seriously warped.
She helped Wes set up his table while the dogs found their spots in the early morning sun. Cara put out the new signs she’d had made for his different treats. Made sure he’d replaced his old business cards with the new logoed ones.
“You know, you’ve made a real difference here.”
“Huh?”
He pointed to the table. “The labels, the sign, the cards, everything looks so much more professional. I never would have thought of those little touches.”
“It’s nothing.”
He cocked his head, his eyebrows drawn together. “It’s something. An important something.”
There was that vortex again. Pleasure at the compliment sucking her under even as a little voice in her head told her it was all wrong. This didn’t matter. The weekend pies didn’t matter. Nothing mattered for a girl like her.
And that wasn’t the least bit fun. There had been a week or two where she’d started to feel happy. Like this new life she’d built was a good fit for her, smooth as could be. Everything seemed to be going right. The pies, Wes.
But they’d started talking about Mia’s wedding so much, and Cara had caught herself...thinking. Which scared the crap out of her. She’d been dating Wes for a few weeks. She couldn’t...think like that. She’d never been that girl. She couldn’t be that girl.
She’d dreamed of a wedding. And it wasn’t Mia’s. Worse, morning sex and making out in his truck had done nothing to alleviate that image in her head.
“Well, I’m going to head over to Mia’s booth.” She forced a smile, walked over and kissed him on the cheek. “Sell lots, honey.”
She could feel him watching her as she walked away, and he probably saw right through her.
She needed to get out of this and fast. When Cara made her way over to Mia’s booth, her sisters were waiting with goofy smiles.
Anna let out a high-pitched “ooh” followed by ridiculous kissing noises.
“Oh, be nice,” Mia admonished, grinning like an idiot. “I think it’s sweet. I’ve never seen Cara all mushy before.”
“I am not mushy.” She was crazy. And in big trouble. “We’re dating. Having fun.”
“Oh, where have I heard that before?” Mia tapped her chin, a comically thoughtful look on her face. “Oh, yes, my fiancé said that once,” she said, pointing to where Dell and his brother were unloading the truck. “When we were dating and ‘having fun until it wasn’t.’ Whoops.”
“You’re gonna marry the shaggy hermit!” Anna hopped and clapped, and Cara glared at her.
“I have literally been dating the guy for two weeks. Take back the M word this instant.” A few weeks. A few weeks. You didn’t just become someone else in a few weeks. There was still work to do. The pie thing wasn’t permanent, and Wes still hadn’t scheduled his surgery.
Why would anyone be thinking about anything more than dating—let alone her?
“You never know. I mean, isn’t that the point of dating at your age? To find someone to spend forever with?”
“At my age? Listen here—”
Mia put a hand over Cara’s pointed finger, her head cocked in that concerned big sister way. Ew.
“Why are you freaking out? We’re teasing.”
“Yeah, well, it’s not funny.”
“Ah.”
“Don’t do that.” Cara wrangled her finger free and pointed it in Mia’s face. “Do not ‘ah’ me.”
“You’ve been a lot happier the past few weeks.”
“No.”
“It wouldn’t be the end of the world.”
“Yes, it would!”
Mia and Anna exchanged a glance. Not a how-can-we-needle-her-more glance, a what’s-wrong-with-her glance.
They’d never understand. Mia was marrying the first guy to ever freaking kiss her, and Anna... Anna was eighteen and sure of everything.
She had to fix this. Fight out of the vortex, right now, before it sank her any deeper or brought any more people into thinking that she and Wes were anything more than her teaching him how to have a good time with a girl.
Because those moments of thinking they could be more were some of the scariest moments of her life.<
br />
She glanced over at Wes’s booth. She could only make out his shoulder and Phantom’s missing-a-chunk tail. Her heart clutched, but she had to do this. For all of them.
* * *
“HEY, HONEY.”
Wes tensed. He’d maybe only known Cara a little while, but especially the past few weeks of dating, he’d been paying attention. Kind of like the way he did with a new dog, which was probably insulting, but so be it. You watched, observed and figured out what made them skittish, and either plied them with treats or avoided the trigger.
He’d done that with himself, too.
He hadn’t figured out all Cara’s triggers, but he knew when she used that syrupy-sweet “honey,” she was not in a good place. And so far, he’d been able to distract her from that not good place, but he was beginning to think their time was running out.
Things had been good. Dating and sex and having fun, but it hadn’t escaped his notice that there was this little sliver of something that didn’t click quite right. He hadn’t figured it out yet, but her honey made him wonder if he’d even get the chance.
“You ready to go?”
She smiled, but there was absolutely no warmth behind it. “You know, I’m actually going to go home with Mia.”
“Ah.”
Her smile tightened, though he didn’t know why his one-word answer caused that. “Anyway, I think I’m going to cancel tonight. I should probably hang out with my friends. That’s our tradition. Saturday nights.”
He had to clench his jaw on that one. Her friends. The ones she admitted hadn’t treated her well. The ones she’d stopped hanging out with because they made her feel bad about herself.
He could argue with her, but obviously Cara had made up her mind to dump him. Hey, getting dumped was on his list of to-be-experienced things. Lucky him.
But, it was the why he didn’t understand. Had he done something wrong?
“Anyway, I’ll see you Monday.”
Her cavalier wave and complete lack of acting as if anything mattered grated along every last nerve. “If you’re breaking up with me, I’d appreciate you being a little bit more direct.”
She stopped in her tracks and shook her hair back, failing to achieve the careless air she seemed to be aiming for. “Okay, well, we’ve had our fun, and you got to date and sleep with somebody for a bit. You know, I’m the type who gets bored after a while. And you, you should totally sleep with...lots of girls before you get serious about someone.”
