Only for You (Sugar Lake Book 2)

by Melissa Foster

He dressed as she caught him up with the latest events on the charity front. They were planning a fundraiser for the holidays, and as always, she had it under control.

  “Who do you want to be seated with this year?” Shira asked.

  Bridgette. “I don’t know. Ask me in a few weeks.”

  He went down to the living room with Dahlia and sat on the couch, wishing Bridgette were there with him. Dahlia rested her chin on his leg, and he grabbed a paperback from the end table.

  “A few weeks?” Shira asked.

  “I’ve got mandatory training after I leave here.”

  “Unless you get called for an assignment,” she reminded him.

  “No shit.” He didn’t mean to sound harsh, but every day that passed brought him that much closer to leaving, and he didn’t want to think about leaving—for training or for an assignment. “If I am called in, and if I make it back alive, then you can ask me who I want to sit with.”

  “If you get sent away, your lame ass better make it back or I swear I’ll kill you a second time over.”

  He smiled. “Hey, Shira?”

  “What?” she snapped. “You pissed me off. I hate it when you talk about not making it back.”

  “I’m sorry, but you know—”

  “Booker? Shut. Up. I know the reality of your stupid job.”

  “Right. Sorry.” He petted Dahlia. “I need a favor. Can you see about getting me four tickets to the Yankees game this weekend? And see if you can set up a call between me and the manager. I need a favor.” The owners of the Yankees were major donors to Hearts for Heroes, and every year they offered up tickets to the games. Bodhi’s mother, Alisha, was an avid Yankees fan, and he tried to take her to at least one or two games each year.

  “I’m on it. Wait. Who’s your plus two?”

  “Wouldn’t you like to know?” He sat back and thumbed through the book.

  “You’ll tell me soon enough. How’re the renovations going? Will you be done before you come back?”

  “Yeah. I should be fine. It’s a cute town. Mom will like it here.”

  “Or maybe Bodhi likes Mom’s neighbor?”

  A text came through, and Bodhi lowered the phone to see who it was from. He didn’t recognize the number, but it gave him a long enough pause to avoid answering Shira’s question. “Sorry, Shira, but I’ve got to run.”

  “That’s cool. I’ll check into the tickets. And, Bodhi?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Don’t think I didn’t notice you avoided answering my question. I’m hoping you lifted your not-getting-involved rule and are enjoying some time with that cute blonde next door. But come on. Plus two? You, your mom, and hopefully blondie would be three. What does plus two for baseball mean?”

  He chuckled. “It means her kid likes baseball.”

  Shira was silent for a long moment, and hell if he didn’t know exactly what was going through her mind.

  “Bodhi,” she said with a serious tone. “You sure you know what you’re doing?”

  “Definitely not, but aren’t you the one who encouraged me to relax and enjoy myself?”

  “Yeah, but . . . a kid?”

  Silence filled the airwaves. This was not a conversation he wanted to have, no matter how right she was.

  After an uncomfortable end to their call, he read the waiting text—Hi. What are you up to?—and thumbed out a response. Who is this?

  He opened the book and kicked his feet up on the coffee table. His phone vibrated with another text. Your sugar supplier.

  The knot in his gut loosened as he sent a response. About to start Charlotte Sterling. But I could sure use some sugar.

  Bridgette’s text came through seconds later. Who is this Charlotte chick? I’m not above taking a bitch down.

  He pushed to his feet, and Dahlia jumped to hers, following him into the kitchen as another text came through. Not that we have that type of commitment or anything.

  “My ass we don’t,” he grumbled as he grabbed two glasses and the bottle of wine the Realtor had given him when he’d bought the house, and placed them in an empty box. “Let’s go, Dahl.” He grabbed the book, threw the blanket from the back of the couch over his shoulder, and headed out the door as he called Bridgette.

  “Hi,” she said shakily.

  “Open your kitchen door.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  BODHI’S HARSH TONE made Bridgette’s stomach twist. She’d kicked herself seconds after sending those last two texts. She sounded like a possessive girlfriend. She’d wanted to send a text telling him she was hoping for a kiss good night, but that seemed too needy. She walked through the kitchen and saw his hulking figure bent at the waist as he placed something on the ground. Her nerves took flight as she opened the door.

  Dahlia trotted to the porch as Bodhi rose to his full height, broad and powerful against the night sky. He stalked toward her, amping up her pulse with each determined step. He didn’t stop until he was nearly standing upon her. He hauled her against him and took her in a punishingly intense kiss that rang through her veins. She pushed up on her toes, wanting more, and used his shoulders for leverage as she futilely tried to climb him like a mountain. He smiled against her lips and lifted her into his arms. His mouth was like an ocean of heat and desire, and she wanted to sail away to the far reaches of the world and disappear into it.

  Dahlia whined, and Bodhi tore his mouth away, his gaze blazing through Bridgette. He opened his mouth to speak, and she silenced him with hers. When he broke their connection again, his eyes were dark as night.

  “We have that kind of goddamn commitment,” he seethed.

  “But we’re just friends with benefits,” came out teasingly, as if she’d gone five years without a man and she’d want to keep her options open, when really, she ached over the idea of sharing him. Unable to hide her true feelings, her next words were somber. “Here and now.”

  “My here and now doesn’t include any other women, and yours sure as hell better not include other men. You can call it whatever you want, but you get with another man, and we become past tense.”

  Lord, this man was raking her over the best kind of coals. She didn’t know if she should claw for purchase and hold on tight, or skitter away before she got burned. It didn’t matter which her mind chose, because Bridgette believed in following her heart, just as she had with Jerry, and Bodhi had already claimed a piece of it.

  “How’s this playing out, Bridgette?” His face was as serious as if he were negotiating world peace. “The ball’s in your court.”

  He was so serious her mind should not go straight to the gutter. But it did, and a giggle bubbled out before she could stop it. “The balls aren’t near enough to my court, but I prefer that we remain exclusive partners while you’re here in town.”

  A warm smile pushed all his stoniness away.

  She ran her finger along his jaw and traced his lower lip, further softening her broody man. “You like to break rules as much as you enjoy making them.”

  “You make me crazy, Bridge.” He took her in another toe-curling kiss. “Utterly mad,” he whispered.

  “Since we’re exclusive, can I ask who Charlotte Sterling is?” she asked as he carried her off the porch to a blanket he’d set out on the grass.

  “An erotic romance writer. If you’re nice, maybe I’ll share her books with you.”

  “I’d rather create our own erotic scenes.” She touched her lips to his, and Dahlia bounded over, nudging her head between them.

  “Lie down,” Bodhi said, and Dahlia lay on the blanket, her big head resting on her legs and her brown eyes trained on her man.

  “Good girl.” He lowered Bridgette’s bare feet to the blanket. They sat side by side, and Dahlia inched up until her front paws were touching Bodhi’s legs. He loved her up. “I hope you don’t mind that I brought her, but I want her to get used to seeing us together. Otherwise she’ll whine every time we touch.”

  “I don’t mind, but you know we can’t do this in front o
f Louie, so most of the time she won’t be in danger of the green-eyed monster taking over.”

  “I know. I’m sorry about showing up this morning, too. I should have waited and visited you at the shop.” He pulled her closer. “But I just wanted to see you, even if only long enough to say good morning.”

  “I’m glad you did. We had a crazy morning, and you made it better.”

  He glanced at the open door. “Do you have a way to hear Louie in case he gets up?”

  “I have a monitor from when he was a baby. I still use it when I’m downstairs, just in case. I must have left it in the living room.” She started to get up, and he placed his hand over hers.

  “I’ll get it. You don’t have shoes on.” He pushed to his feet, and Dahlia’s head popped up, eyes wide. “Stay, baby.”

  Bridgette petted Dahlia while they watched Bodhi disappear inside. “You could have warned me,” she whispered. “Was that why you knocked my groceries out of my hands? Were you trying to tell me to stay away because he was addicting? Or were you trying to get me to pay attention? Breaking the ice like some kind of four-legged wingman?”

  Bodhi stepped off the porch with a serious expression. “You two conspiring?”

  “We girls have to stick together.”

  He sat down and set the monitor to the side.

  “Thank you for always thinking of Louie. You can’t imagine how much that means to me.”

  He glanced at Dahlia. “Thanks for looking after my girl.”

  “It’s hardly the same.”

  “It’s totally the same. Come here.” He pulled her down so they were lying next to each other. “That’s better. You were too far away. I brought wine. Would you like some?”

  “Maybe after I get some Bodhi time.”

  “Good answer.” He kissed her again. “Was Louie okay today?”

  “Yeah, he’s all better. He wants to show you his baseball cards.”

  “Tomorrow,” he said. “Does that work?”

  “Perfectly.”

  “I’ll come over and fix his playset, too. Louie can help.”

  “You don’t have to do that.” She told herself she should have some sort of boundaries between Bodhi and Louie, but this was what friends did. They helped each other out. That didn’t have to mean anything more.

  “I want to. Besides, he seemed excited to help.”

  “What is it about boys and tools?”

  “What is it about me and you?” Bodhi’s hands slid along her hip. “I’ve been thinking. I want to take you out alone, but since that might take some time to coordinate, I’d like to take you and Louie to the city for a Yankees game this weekend.”

  “Are you serious?” She hadn’t been to the city since before Louie was born, when Jerry’s band was touring, and Louie had never been.

  “Yes. I want to do something special with both of you.”

  Every shred of restraint she had on her emotions tugged free. She would be careful about letting Louie see her true feelings for Bodhi because she had to, but she wasn’t about to deny them. She wanted to share Louie’s first visit to the city, and his first time seeing the Yankees play, with Bodhi more than she wanted her next breath. “Louie would love that. Are you sure? I mean, can you get tickets? And what about Dahlia?”

  “I’m pretty sure I can get tickets, but don’t mention it to Louie until I get confirmation. I figured we’d leave Saturday after you get off work, and take Dahlia with us. I thought we could grab dinner and see a Broadway show that’s appropriate for kids if Louie’s up for it. We can stay at my place for the night, then go to the game Sunday and come back afterward.”

  “That sounds amazing.” She threw her arms around his neck. “Thank you, but are you sure? Louie can be a handful.”

  “Don’t thank me yet, and yes, I’m sure. I need to get the tickets, and we’ll have to take your car. There’s not enough room in my truck for the three of us and Dahlia.”

  The excitement bubbling up inside her was quickly tamped down with reality. Bodhi had been very careful with Louie, but she felt compelled to clarify their sleeping arrangements. “But we can’t sleep together with Louie there. Do you have enough room at your place? He and I can stay at a hotel.”

  “Bridgette,” he said sternly, “you are not staying at a hotel. Do you really think I’d assume you and I were sharing a room when we can’t even hold hands in front of Louie?”

  “No, but . . . It’s the mom in me coming out.”

  “I get it.” His expression remained serious. “Have a little faith in me,” he said, a tad softer. “You’ll take my room, Louie can sleep in the guest room, and I’ll sleep on the couch.”

  “I’m not going to make you sleep on the couch. I’ll share a bed with Louie. He’s the size of a peanut.”

  “However you want to do it is fine with me, but there’s one catch. My mother’s a die-hard Yankees fan, and if I don’t take her to the game, she’ll disown me. Think you can handle meeting her?”

  She swallowed hard. “Your mother? That sounds more serious than here and now.”

  “I know it does, but that’s not my intent. She honestly is a huge Yankees fan, and I want to do something special for Louie. Is it wrong to want our short time together to be full of moments none of us will ever forget?”

  For Louie, it would be fine. But for her . . . ?

  “No,” she said, made happy by his desire to do something so thoughtful, and scared by what it did to her emotions. “It’s not too much, and I can’t wait to meet your mother. But I’m not sure Louie can sit through an entire game. Will she be okay if I have to leave early with him to let him run around in the parking lot or something?”

  “Babe.” He pressed his lips to hers and lowered her down to her back, gazing at her with so much emotion, she never wanted to move. “She raised me, remember? And she loves kids.”

  “Can you do me one tiny favor?”

  “That depends. Does it involve anything illegal?”

  She laughed. “No.”

  “Anything dirty?”

  She could think of a whole lot of dirty things she could ask him to do. “Maybe as payment for the favor.”

  “You’re killing me.” He took her in another blissful kiss. “Anything you need.”

  “Can you be a little bit of a jerk from now on?” She couldn’t even pretend she really wanted him to, and when his smile turned to a scowl, she added, “Just so Louie and I don’t totally fall for you.”

  “Babe, you’re not going to fall for me, because you know how this ends. We both do.” The warning in his voice was softened by the regret in his eyes.

  It was good to know she wasn’t the only one struggling with their relationship limitations.

  “And once we explain to Louie that I don’t live in Sweetwater, he won’t expect me to stick around forever. I’ll be like any other friend who passes through town.”

  When it came to protecting Louie, his confidence returned, putting her worries about her son to rest. If only it could do the same for her.

  “When we’re in New York, we’ll explain it to him. Okay? Then he’ll see where I live, so he’ll have a picture in his mind, and it will all fit together for him. I’m not going to let him get hurt,” he assured her. “But if it’s too much, just tell me. We don’t have to go to the city.”

  “Part of me thinks it’s too much, but a bigger part thinks you’re the most generous man on earth, and I want us both to experience as much of you as we can.”

  He showered her with kisses, covering every speck of exposed skin from her hands to her neck. She’d never been so thankful for a private backyard before in her life. He skipped over her sweater and miniskirt and moved right down to her ankles, working his way up each leg, kissing and caressing until her entire body hummed with need. When he came down over her, his weight was magnificent, bearing down in all the right places. Even through their clothes, their heat was unstoppable. She bent her knees to accommodate the width of his hips, and her skirt bun
ched at the tops of her thighs.

  “Bridgette,” he said in a husky whisper.

  He buried his face in her neck, both of them rocking and grinding, refusing to stop the illicit torture. He slid his hands beneath her ass, angling her hips so he could press harder against her center, and their mouths came together, fierce and hungry. She could barely breathe for the tingling sensations crawling up her thighs and the delectable friction wreaking havoc with her control. Just when she was ready to break their connection with the need for air, Bodhi breathed into her lungs, giving her the last of what she needed to abandon all thought.

  BODHI WAS HANGING on to his sanity by a thread. He needed to put space between them, guzzle some wine, take a breather, or he was liable to take more than he should. He’d nearly detonated last night. A cold shower hadn’t cut it. He’d needed a freaking ice bath.

  “Babe.” He sounded as desperate as he felt. “We’ve got to stop, or I’m going to strip you naked and have my way with you right here on the blanket.”

  She was gripping his arms like a security blanket. Her eyes narrowed, and she pushed at his chest. “Get up.”

  He rose to his feet, and Dahlia rose beside him.

  “I feel guilty for asking this,” she said. “But can you please put Dahlia in your house?”

  “Sure. What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. Can you just put her in your house and come back, please?”

  He took her by the shoulders and realized she was trembling. “Bridge, talk to me. I’m sorry I got carried away.”

  “Ohmygod.” She grabbed his shirt and yanked him down for a hard kiss. “Stop apologizing! Please, trust me. Just put her in the house and hurry back.”

  He was back in record time, cursing himself the whole way. She grabbed the baby monitor, and his hand, and hurried onto the porch steps. She reached for him, and he met her in a messy, urgent kiss and lifted her into his arms.

  “You know me already,” she said, smiling so wide it cut right through him.

  “I know I love having you wrapped around me. And I love your laugh, and your smile, and I’d carry you across the state if you’d smile like that every second.”