“Did that cause problems between you and his mother?”
“Oh, hell no. I thank God for that woman. You’ve met her. She was the woman in my shop who was hitting on you when you came in.”
“You still work with her?”
“She’s the reason I became a florist. She gave me a job the summer I finished college. I met Danny working in her shop.” She bit into her beautifully toasted sandwich and moaned, oozy cheese and buttery bread, combined with the fresh tart apples and the perfectly cooked bacon. It was… damn good.
He made a soft noise in his throat and it was then she noticed he was staring at her.
“What?”
“Nothing.” He shook his head. “My brother-in-law is always feeding my sister and I just got why this very moment.”
“What?”
“Never mind.” He picked up his sandwich. “Eat,” he ordered, just before taking a bite. “If you started out working for Danny’s mom, how did she end up working for you? You own the shop, right?”
“Sometimes I ask myself that same question. I was surprisingly good at it and after a while people started requesting me to do their arrangements and our business changed from people wanting flowers for their wives to doing large scale events and supplying very large arrangements for businesses. And then I got Aubrey and decided that I wanted more than to work for somebody else and live in a two bedroom apartment. I wanted to own something that I was proud of. So I bought the business from Danny’s mother and we moved it here to Durant almost a year ago.”
“You weren’t born here? You seem like you belong here.”
“You think so? I’ve never really fit in anywhere. I was born in Maryland to a pair of highly intelligent scientists who were incredibly permissive parents. They figured we could raise ourselves and for the most part we did. Jane was more like them. She was super smart, and structured and she always did everything by the book. I wasn’t. I was average in a house full of geniuses so I never really fit in with them. We weren’t a close family. It seems like the opposite of yours. Maggie adores you.”
“Does she?”
“She’s so proud of you. ‘My big brother went to West Point. My big brother is a war hero.’”
“She tells people that?” He looked uncomfortable. “She makes me sound like a prig.”
“No, she doesn’t.” She touched his thigh and almost regretted it. It was rock hard and made her want to slide her hand all over it. “Who wouldn’t be proud of your service?”
“Are you proud of Danny’s?”
“Of course I am,” she said knowing that it was a difficult subject. Aubrey’s appearance in their life wasn’t the only thing that caused a wedge. Danny’s PTSD had too. He was angry about getting hurt. Angry about being medically discharged. Angry because his life was so wrapped up in being a tough marine and when he couldn’t serve anymore he felt like less of a man.
“What’s wrong?” He placed his hand over hers. It was still on his thigh. She hadn’t realized she hadn’t moved it yet.
“Nothing.” She shook her head. “Tell me something about yourself that no one knows.”
“I was thinking about getting a cat.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. Everybody thinks when you’re a big guy who works with his hands and has been to war that you should get a big dog like a German shepherd because they are tough manly dogs. I just want a cat I can chill with and pet sometimes. He can go his way when he wants. I can go mine.”
“So get a cat, Clay. Why should you give a shit about what people think of you?”
“I don’t. But I was offered a job overseas and I know I couldn’t take a pet with me if I decided to go.”
“Oh.” She didn’t know why she felt disappointed to hear that. She barely knew him. She wasn’t even sure she could call him a friend yet. “If you want a cat you should get one. And if you go away I will take him or her for you so that you know it’ll have a good home.”
“You would?”
“I would. I had a cat named Fifi growing up. I adored her. It’s a good thing my sister named Aubrey, because I was pretty sure I was going to name my first daughter Fifi.”
“After a cat? I’m sure your husband wouldn’t have liked that.”
“No. Especially since he didn’t want kids and had a vasectomy. I would have had some explaining to do.”
“He had a vasectomy? That’s serious.”
“I know. I think he knew I had changed my mind about wanting kids after Aubrey came along. It ended up being for the best in the end.”
“You don’t want any more kids?”
“I do. I just didn’t want him being the father.” Danny was loveable, but he was damaged after he came home. Damaged in a way that only she had seen. He wouldn’t have been able to be a good father.
Clayton squeezed her hand and then leaned over to kiss her cheek, his beard tickling her face. “Eat, Daisy. It’s getting cold.”
Chapter 7
Their conversation had turned to lighter things as they had finished their grilled cheese and Clayton had a hard time taking his eyes off of her. He knew he had been staring. He had tried to stop when she caught him and smiled at him self-consciously, but he couldn’t. Daisy was that beautiful and her shoulders were naked and feet were bare and her face showed everything that she was thinking or feeling.
He could see that she was disappointed when he told her about the job offer, even though he hadn’t given her any details and that affected him. He felt it in his chest, like he didn’t want to disappoint her. And he wasn’t sure why he cared either way.
She was just his neighbor. He had just learned her name. He was attracted to her. Incredibly so. And he liked her, but that was it. She was the kind of woman a man could get attached to and that was the opposite of what he wanted. He wanted mindless sex. No strings. No commitment. No thoughts. Not the grieving widow with the kid. Not the woman who just by walking around seemed to scream out for someone to love her.
She stood up and put their plates in the sink. “I promised you dessert, but gave you dinner instead.” She paused, putting her hand on her hip. “Did you eat before you came over?”
“Yeah, but it was grilled cheese and I can always eat.” He stood up, stepping closer to her.
“You were being nice.”
He grabbed her fingers stroking his thumb along the backs of them. “I wasn’t being nice. I’m not a nice guy and I still want my dessert.”
She leaned forward and kissed him softly on the lips. “Watch TV with me.”
She took him by the hand and led him into the living room which was cozy with all its missed matched funkiness. She had a turquoise bookshelf that he could tell she painstakingly rehabbed and stenciled with large white flowers. And a desk that she had painted a cream color that had words in black cursive sprawled across it. She was creative. He liked that about her.
“This is some couch,” he said looking at the gray sofa that looked more like a bed.
“You like it?” She crawled on to it. “I had it custom made. Three chaise lounges put together. We don’t watch TV a lot but when we do, we really watch TV. I’m talking whole seasons of shows at a time.”
“You binge watch?” He sat beside her, close to her, so that his thigh was touching hers.
“Is there any other way?” She grabbed a blanket off the side of the couch and tossed it over them. He felt like he was in high school again for some reason, even though they were both far into adulthood and had lived not so easy lives. But he was on the couch, sitting next to a pretty girl, feeling kind of… nervous. This wasn’t a date, but if it was, it wasn’t like any other one he had been on as an adult. It felt sweeter. More innocent, even though when he looked at Daisy innocent thoughts were far from his mind.
What the hell was going on between them? And why was he here?
He had debating coming. Debated whether to see her or not, because he knew he didn’t only feel neighborly towards her. He knew he had wanted h
er in a way he had never wanted anybody else. He knew that being around her was like playing with fire. He thought he would be safe with her kid here, but they were alone and she made him smile. She made him want to be near her.
“Hold my hand,” she said, pulling him from his thoughts.
“Hold your hand?” he asked, but slipped his fingers through hers.
She sighed as she sank back into the cushions even more. “It’s been a very long time since a grownup held my hand.”
“This makes you happy?”
She nodded. “I feel like I’m a teenager again. Holding hands with a boy in my parents basement, afraid they would come in and I would get caught. Of course I didn’t have normal parents who cared what their teenaged daughter was doing in the basement alone with a boy.”
“What were you doing down there?”
“Mostly this.” She squeezed his hand. “I wasn’t ready for sex until I left for college. But I liked this. The closeness with a boy I liked. The sweetness of something as simple as holding his hand while our shoulders touched.” She looked over at him and grinned. “I sound like a total dweeb, don’t I?”
“No,” he said seriously. She sounded like Daisy, and he liked that about her. “Am I a boy you like?” he asked and that’s when he heard it, five quick pops, followed by a loud boom. He was familiar with that sound. Of gun fire. Of small explosives that were just big enough to kill a man.
All of it came back to him in a rush, the smell of the terrain around him, the sounds of his men calling out, the feeling of his heart pounding against his ribs.
But then he felt fingers slide along his scalp and he looked down to see that he was on top of Daisy. That he had thrown her down on the couch to shield her from danger. Only there was none.
“Fireworks,” she said softly. He expected her to look alarmed, or scared, or horrified, but her face held none of those emotions. She looked almost serene as she lay beneath him. “It’s those damn Miller kids. I saw the oldest one unpacking the car. He had a ton of fireworks. They are probably going to be setting them off for the next month. Must have driven to the Pennsylvania border to get them. You’re here with me, Clayton.” She scratched his scalp. “You’re home and safe with me.”
“Shit.” He was mad at himself. He knew the Fourth of July was rapidly approaching. He had prepared himself for the firecrackers that his neighbors would be setting off. He told himself it would be better than before. That the war hadn’t left any major effects on him. He was wrong.
“Don’t be mad, Clay.” She lifted her head and kissed his lips. “I understand. I know what it’s like.”
Her husband. Her husband had seen action. She must have lived through this before. She must know what it’s like to be with a broken man. He didn’t want to be broken, especially in front of her.
“It’s all right,” she said soothingly, just before she kissed his lips again. It was a mistake for her to kiss him especially like that. Softly. Slowly. Just a little too long to be friendly. Just a little too hot for him to control. He was planning to leave here tonight unsatisfied, and thinking about what it might be like to take her to bed. But she kissed him again and all his will power went out the window. He opened his mouth over hers, pushing his tongue inside in one sweep. She let him. She relaxed and let him kiss her deeply and hotly. He knew he was kissing her hard, he knew he was drinking her in like he was dying of thirst, but he couldn’t stop himself. He wanted more of her. He needed more of her.
He lifted his head, using the last bit of control he had and looked down at her. Her lips were red, swollen from his kiss. Her eyes were wide and beautiful, but she didn’t look scared or uncomfortable, or shocked by him.
“Don’t stop. You need this.” She grabbed the bottom of his shirt and pulled it off, just before she gave him one long hot, deep kiss. “Don’t stop.” She ran her hands down his back, soothing him and turning him on at the same time. “I need this too. Give me what I need. Be with me.”
He nearly burst then, his hands shaking, his control completely gone. He knew he should slow down, take his time, tease her, caress her. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t wait to be with her. He wanted her that bad, but more than that he needed her. He yanked down his jeans, tore at her underwear and buried himself inside of her with one hard thrust. She was wet and tight and she squeezed herself around him to urge him on. “My God, Daisy.” He pumped into her hard, he had no control. No finesse. This was not lovemaking. This was not just simple sex. It was rawer and needier and more primal. He felt her nails dig into his back, and her cries grow louder as their skin slapped together.
Daisy.
Daisy.
Daisy.
It was all he could think.
All he could say.
Here with her was the only place he wanted to be.
He took her mouth again, kissing her like he never thought of kissing anybody and he felt her squeezing more and more around him. He knew she was close, knew she was driving him closer to the edge and then she came. He felt her whole body tremble beneath him and it caused him to come too. To spill inside her, not just his seed, but more of him than he had given to anybody else.
He collapsed on top of her laying there for a long time, feeling empty and sleepy and content.
He felt their clothes still between them. He still wore his jeans. She still had on her dress. He had been too impatient. Too much in a rush to undress her and love her properly.
“I’m sorry.” He lifted himself off of her. “I’m sorry.”
“Please.” She grabbed his hand and pulled him close. “Don’t be sorry. No woman wants to hear that a man is sorry after sleeping with her.”
“I didn’t do it right. I didn’t take my time.” He shook his head. “I didn’t even use protection.”
“I’ve been on birth control since I could drive. My husband was the last person I’ve slept with. It has been a very long time for me.”
He kissed her forehead. “For me too. Nobody since I went on my last tour. Did I hurt you?”
“No.” She set her hand on his chest. Right over his heart. “I liked it. Couldn’t you tell? That was a very powerful orgasm. A very, very powerful one.”
He smiled. She made him feel good. She made him feel all sorts of things. “What now?” he asked her.
“It’s early. Take me to my bedroom and do it all over again.”
*
Daisy looked at Clayton as he studied her bedroom. She would be caught up in the fact that she had just had sex for the first time with a man who was not her husband if Clayton didn’t look so gorgeous then. He was standing there in front of her, in just a pair of unzipped blue jeans his chest bare and smooth. The sex with him had been intense. She felt connected to him. She wouldn’t forget this night, or the way he said her name over and over, or the way his face looked when he was buried deep inside her. It had been so long since she had had sex. She didn’t know if it was as special as it felt or just because she hadn’t been touched in so long.
She hadn’t slept with Danny at all in the year before he died. He hadn’t wanted to. She was willing, but he no longer wanted her. There were many nights when he didn’t come home. And she wondered if he was sleeping with someone else. The thought of him with another woman didn’t bother her as it would most wives. They had always been more friends than lovers, but she wanted him to find happiness somewhere if it wasn’t with her. The saddest part was that she didn’t think he had found it anywhere.
Clayton took her face in his hands and kissed her, making her forget the sad thought that had momentarily snuck in. “What are you thinking about?”
“You. What are you thinking about?”
“How girly your house is.”
She ran her hands over his hard chest and up to his shoulders. “You don’t like it?”
“I do. It’s what I thought your room would look like.”
“You thought about my room?”
“Yes. Turn around.” He spun her and slowly
unzipped her dress. He pushed it off her shoulders as he peppered soft hot kisses along her skin. “I wanted to be here since you kissed me that night. Maybe even before that. I’ve thought about coming in here and finding you in bed in nothing but a skimpy nightgown.”
“You have?”
“A man needs something to think about while he’s in the shower.” He lifted her hair off her neck and kissed her there. “You are all I think about when I’m in there.”
“What are you doing in the shower while you’re thinking about me?”
He undid her bra. “What do you think, Daisy?”
“I’m honored.” She turned around and grinned at him.
He pulled off her bra, leaving her naked before him. “You’re so beautiful.” He reached for her hips, and smoothed his hands down them before pulling her closer and cupping her behind. Her nipples brushed his chest, growing tighter and more aroused than she thought was possible. “All I want to do is touch you.”
“Then touch me.” She stroked his beard, wishing it wasn’t there only so she could kiss his face and feel his skin beneath her lips. “But get naked first.”
He nodded and walked her backwards towards the bed. He gave her a gentle push and she landed with a little bounce. Clayton pulled off his pants without taking his eyes off her. He was the most beautiful man she had ever seen naked, even though his body was covered in scars and signs of war. He just looked so power. He was hard again, his cock sticking straight out, ready to be inside her once more.
He came towards her, his body moving gracefully, his muscles bunching beneath his skin. She had almost wanted him to stay put, to not move so she could drink more of him in. But there was no stopping Clayton. He climbed on the bed took her arms and pushed them above her head, causing her breasts to push upward. He slid his hands beneath them, not touching them, but teasing her with his slow soft caresses. She just watched him as he looked at her, watched him slide his hands down her belly that was never going to be flat, watch him as he took his pleasure in touching her.
He made her feel beautiful. She needed that. She needed this tonight. He took her nipple into his mouth, sucking lightly on it while he cupped her other breast. His hot wet mouth on her sensitive skin made her moan, made her throb painfully between her legs.
A Curvy Girl for the Cadet: A Perfect Fit Novella Page 7
