Finding Focus

by Jiffy Kate

  I grin and nod. The need to get Dani back to the apartment is growing with each passing second. Every brush of her hand against mine, the way she tosses her head back and laughs, her sideways glances . . . all of it feels like foreplay—sweet, torturous foreplay.

  When we get up to the apartment, Dani quietly goes to the bathroom, looking back at me over her shoulder, silently talking to me with her glance. We haven’t said more than a few words to each other since we left the restaurant, but our touches have said plenty. They’ve said, I’m ready. I need you. No more slow.

  I lock the front door behind me and walk into my bedroom, sitting on the edge of the bed. The bathroom door creaks open a few minutes later and Dani walks into the bedroom. Her hair is loose around her shoulders and she’s only wearing a t-shirt, one of mine I loaned her in Alabama when we were at the beach. She leans against the doorframe and crosses one leg over the other, watching me.

  My fingers ache to touch her, so I stand up and walk over to her, brushing my fingers lightly down her arm. The way her skin pebbles under my touch makes me want to do it more—touch her more. I don’t know what she wants or how far she wants to take this, but I want it all. “Tell me to stop,” I whisper, warning her with my words, giving her a chance to put the brakes on, but she doesn’t. She shakes her head slowly and leans into my hand as I cup her cheek.

  “I want this. I want you. Tell me you want this, too,” I plead.

  “I do,” she says. “I want you, Micah.”

  That’s all I need—her permission, telling me we’re on the same page. My mouth is on hers and my hands move swiftly down her body, gripping her backside and picking her up, allowing her legs to wrap around my waist. I kiss her hard, pressing her into the wall, letting her feel just how much I want her. Her fingers twist in my hair, pulling me closer. I could take her here, up against this wall, but I want more than that. I want to look into her eyes. I want to memorize every inch of her. I want making love—not fucking.

  I carry her over to the bed and lay her down, loving how her gorgeous red hair spreads out over my pale blue blanket. She’s everything—my hopes, my dreams, my desires, all wrapped up in one amazing package.

  “Off,” she commands, tugging at the bottom of my shirt.

  I reach back and tug it over my head, tossing it beside the bed. Her hands roam up my stomach to my chest, tracing the tree like she did last night. Our eyes lock and the intensity I’m met with matches what I’m feeling inside. She sees past who I’ve been, who other people see—she just sees me. I love seeing myself through her eyes.

  I want her to feel as good as she makes me feel.

  Pulling at the hem of her shirt, I inch it up her body, placing soft kisses along the way. Words are on the tip of my tongue, wanting to be said, but I’m still scared to utter them aloud. So, I let my lips and hands say the things I’m afraid to. I kiss every inch of her body, some parts more than once. When I make my way back to her mouth, she kisses me with fierceness and desperation. Her voice is sure when she whispers, “Make love to me.”

  Those words—my words—coming from her, make every emotion come to the surface. I feel raw and exposed, laid bare before her, but I’m not afraid. I want this kind of intimacy with Dani. I crave it.

  When our remaining clothes are on the floor, I reach over to my nightstand, grab a condom, and quickly roll it on. Gazing down at her naked body, I tell her how beautiful she is and smile as I watch her skin blush, traveling from her cheeks down to her full breasts.

  “Amazing,” I say, lining myself up and slowly pushing inside. Once our hips are flush, I’m overwhelmed with how perfectly we fit together, how incredible she feels. I’m almost afraid to move. Afraid this moment will fade away.

  My body tenses and my eyes close until Dani presses her hands to my face.

  “Look at me,” she demands. “I feel it, too. Please, don’t stop.”

  Lacing my fingers through hers, I begin to move, and almost laugh at myself for doubting this couldn’t feel better than a minute ago. With every thrust, touch, and kiss, the pleasure only intensifies until we’re both crying out, finding our release together.

  I have never felt this way, and I know, without a doubt, I’ll never get my fill of her.

  Sheridan

  I WAS RIGHT. WAKING UP with Micah is amazing . . . almost as amazing as sleeping with him. No, not sleeping with him—making love with him . . . to him. Because that’s exactly what we did last night . . . no less than three times, mind you.

  My body still tingles from the way he touched me just over an hour ago, but more than that, my heart is full. It’s as if he’s awakened a part of me—a part of my soul—I thought was gone forever . . . or maybe didn’t exist at all. I feel light and sated at the same time. Content. Excited. Peaceful. Happy—so very happy.

  “We’re gonna have to get up at some point,” a husky voice says softly in my ear.

  “I wanna stay here,” I complain, wishing that could happen. I wish there was a way to hold on to how I’m feeling right now, how he made me feel last night.

  “We can come back any time you want.”

  “I’d like that.”

  “How about I make you coffee and we grab breakfast on our way out of town?” he suggests, kissing me softly before rolling away from me, taking the warmth and goodness with him. “I know this great donut shop we can stop at.” I instantly miss the way his skin feels against mine. I want it back the second he slips out from under the blanket. But the view of him is exceptional. Taking a second to drink him in, I watch his muscles flex as he slips on his jeans from the floor beside the bed.

  Seeing him like this—being with him like this—I knew it’d be good. I knew it’d be life changing. I just had no idea how good and how life changing.

  When it comes to Micah, I’ve feared I’ll allow myself to fall for him, to love him, and he won’t return the fall or feelings. A few weeks ago, I wasn’t sure he was capable of being in love, or being with one person. But by the way he’s been this past week, the way he’s tried so hard to prove his feelings to me, it’s changed the way I see him. I don’t see the playboy. I see someone who is good down to his core and honest to a fault. I see someone who works hard for what he wants and believes actions speak louder than words. I see someone who values his family over anything else in this world. And all of that has made me fall in love with him.

  I’m so head-over-heels in love with Micah Paul Landry.

  I also fear that if I tell him how serious I am about him and us—like, I want forever—he’ll get spooked. I want to give him all the time he needs to get there on his own. Part of me thinks he might be there. The other part of me thinks he’s afraid, too.

  Why does love have to be so scary?

  On the drive home, I can’t quit staring at my arm. Micah doctored it for me before we left his apartment, so it’s covered in ointment. I haven’t had much of a chance to admire it, but the more I look at it and think about it, the more I love it. I told Micah a little about the reasoning behind it yesterday, but it’s more than that. I didn’t want to freak him out by telling him he’s my south—he’s what my heart wants.

  “I really love it,” he says, glancing over.

  “I do, too. Thanks for taking me.” I smile up at him, loving the way he looks at me. “Thanks for coming with me on this trip. You have no idea what it means to me.”

  “Don’t think I came on this trip for completely unselfish reasons.” He winks and smirks before turning his eyes back to the road. “I came on this trip as much for me as I did for you. I couldn’t stand knowing you were so close and not being able to be with you.” Reaching over, he takes my hand in his, brings it to his lips, and kisses it—like he’s done so many times. “If I hadn’t come with you, I would’ve probably tracked you down like some stalker.”

  I laugh.

  He laughs.

  It’s easy.

  It’s us.

  I’m not ready for this to end.

  I
want this every day for the rest of my life.

  The drive back to the plantation is a short one. Baton Rouge is less than an hour from French Settlement and before we know it, we’re pulling off the dirt road onto the lane leading up to the house.

  “Do you ever get used to this view?” I ask, still in awe every time I see it.

  “After twenty-seven years, I still think about how beautiful it is when I pull down this drive, especially after I’ve been away for a few days.”

  “Good. I’m glad it’s not just me.”

  “Looks like Mama has some company,” Micah says, nodding to a car sitting in front of the house. He pulls my rental car up next to it and puts it into park. “Doesn’t look familiar, though.”

  “You don’t think Piper decided to surprise us and come back down this weekend, do you? I think she would’ve called first to make sure we’d be back.”

  “Yeah, Tucker didn’t mention it when I talked to him the other day.”

  “I can’t believe those two are talking.” I shake my head and smile.

  Micah laughs. “You’re tellin’ me.”

  When we walk through the front door, Annie is talking to someone in the kitchen.

  “Mama,” Micah calls out, “we’re home.”

  Turning the corner to the kitchen, I expect Annie to greet me with one of her warm hugs—hugs I’ve missed in just the few days we’ve been gone. What I’m not expecting is Graham Harrison sitting on one of the stools at the kitchen bar, sipping a cup of coffee.

  “What the hell are you doing here?”

  Graham stands up, smiling ruefully, and walks over, wrapping his free arm around my shoulder. “I’ve missed you so much, baby,” he whispers in my ear. “I’m so sorry. I just needed to talk to you . . . to make things right.” I’m so shocked he’s here, I don’t even have time to reject his touch. I smile, painfully, over his shoulder at Annie.

  Micah bristles at my side, slowly taking his hand from the small of my back. I hate this. I hate that Graham is here. I hate that I have to deal with this when I was feeling so happy and content only moments ago.

  Annie looks at me apologetically. “Seems Mr. Harrison flew all the way down here to talk to you. Apparently, he didn’t get a chance to say everything he wanted to say the last time y’all talked.” The purse of her lips and arch of her eyebrow tells me she’s not pleased to have him in her kitchen, but being the southern woman she is, it’s in her DNA to be hospitable.

  “I also have some very good news for you. I wanted to tell you in person.”

  “Let’s go outside,” I tell him, pulling away and heading for the front door. Whatever it is he has to say, I don’t want it to be in front of Micah or Annie. I’ve been embarrassed enough because of him.

  I wait for him by the front door with my hands on my hips. His leg is stronger now, but he’s still moving a little slow, even with the cane he’s using for support. Of course, he makes a show of walking with a limp in an attempt to gain some sympathy, but I don’t think anyone here is falling for it.

  As I wait for him to walk through the door, I hear Annie say, “Bless his heart”, but I know she doesn’t mean it in a nice way. I have to muffle my laughter as I follow him to the porch.

  Graham carefully sits on the porch and I take him in, looking for a twinge of attraction, lingering love, any feeling connected to him, but I can honestly say I feel nothing. Nothing anywhere close to what I feel for Micah.

  “What do you want, Graham?” I lean against the porch railing with my arms crossed. The faster we can get this over with, the better.

  “Don’t be like that.” He gives me that look, the one he always gives me when he’s done something he knows I’m upset about. That look used to be enough to make me cave, but not now—not anymore. “Sit by me. I’ve missed you.”

  “I’m fine where I am, thanks. Now, explain yourself. Why are you here?”

  He blows out a frustrated breath, knowing his charms aren’t working on me.

  “I wanted to tell you some great news.” He flashes me his million-watt smile. “I got you a job.”

  “You could’ve told me that over the phone. And I have a job. I’ve been working.”

  “I hardly call what you’ve been doing work.” He snorts, his demeanor shifting from sickeningly sweet to asshole in two point one seconds. “I got you a real job.” He stands and walks closer to me, reaching out to touch my arm, but I pull it away. “You have a position at The Times waiting for you back in New York. Isn’t that great?” he asks, pleading with his eyes for me to get on board with what he’s telling me, begging me to see how great this is. “I know it’s what you’ve always wanted to do, Dani. You want this.”

  When I still won’t let him touch me, he huffs and sits down in a chair a few feet from me. “I know you want this, which is why I had to rush down here to this shithole and tell you in person. You should be happy.”

  I gape at him, speechless. So many things run through my brain, I can’t put an entire sentence together.

  Graham laughs at me. “See?” he says, his arms stretched wide. “That’s more like it. I knew you’d be speechless! Now, we just need to get your things and get the hell out of here.” He stands and reaches for my hand, but before he can touch me, I move to the side.

  “Come on, Dani. Enough is enough. You played hard-to-get, and you won. It’s time to grow up, say thank you, and be happy, dammit!”

  “I am happy.”

  “Good. Now, let’s go.” He takes a few steps back toward the door, but stops when he realizes I’m not following. “Where are your things? Are they still in your rental car?”

  I shake my head. “I’m not going with you.”

  “You just said you’re happy.”

  “I am . . . I’m happy here,” I say, pointing down to my feet. “I don’t want a job at The Times. You want me to have a job at The Times. That’s you. It’s not me.”

  “You can’t be serious. Any reputable photojournalist would kill for a job like this! I can’t believe you’re acting like this after I came all the way down here . . . just for you.”

  “You should’ve been thinking about me before you fucked your therapist.”

  Graham groans, rolling his eyes and letting his head fall back in frustration. “Are we going to do this again?”

  “Again?” I ask, raising my voice. “Are you serious? Am I just supposed to forget that happened?”

  “It was a mistake, Dani. I told you that. It wasn’t what it looked like.”

  “I’m not stupid, Graham. It was exactly what it looked like. It was you not caring about us or our commitment to each other. I thought you loved me, and I was trying to make things work, but you have to admit we’d been drifting apart for months . . . maybe longer. Cheating on me was the final straw.”

  “I thought you were more forgiving than that.”

  “I am,” I say, slapping a stray tear off my cheek, pissed that I’m letting him get to me like this again. “I forgive you. There. Is that what you want to hear?”

  “If you forgive me, then come back home with me.”

  “That’s not my home.”

  “Oh, really? Have you moved since the last time I saw you?” I want to slap that mocking smile off his face.

  “No, but it’s not home.” I glance down at the fresh ink on my arm and then look back up at him with a surge of confidence. His smile slips as mine grows. “It’s not where I belong.”

  Micah

  “MAMA, WHY WAS THAT ASSHOLE in this house?”

  I’m pacing the kitchen floor, trying not to freak the fuck out while Dani is outside talking to Graham.

  “I told you. He said he needed to talk to Dani.”

  “He could’ve waited in the damn car. I don’t like him bein’ here.”

  “Micah, I’m sorry. I didn’t even realize who he was at first. He just introduced himself as bein’ a friend of Dani’s. I didn’t know how long y’all would be, so I invited him in. He’s only been here about thi
rty minutes.”

  “No, Mama. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t snap at you. I just wish he’d leave us . . . leave Dani . . . alone.” I wrap my arms around her and she crushes me to her in a protective hug.

  “I take it things are going well with you and Dani?” she asks softly.

  I pull away and run my fingers through my hair. “Yeah, things are great . . . at least; they were before that dickhead got here.”

  “Listen to me, son. I’m forgiving your language because I know you’re upset, but if you think for one second Sheridan Reed is going to fall for that man’s bullshit, you might not know her as well as you think.”

  Fuck.

  She’s right. I know she’s right, but I can’t help but worry I might’ve waited too long to tell Dani how I feel about her. I tried to show her during our trip, especially last night, but what if it wasn’t enough?

  I can’t lose her.

  I won’t lose her.

  Please, God, don’t let her choose Graham.

  I don’t know how long they’ve been outside talking, but it’s been fucking long enough. I storm through the kitchen and foyer, preparing to fight for my girl, but stop short when I hear raised voices coming from the porch.

  “I forgive you. There. Is that what you want to hear?”

  Dani, no.

  I hold my breath, willing my heart not to break. I love her, and I want what’s best for her. She has to make the decision for herself, and whatever it is, I have to accept that.

  “No, but it’s not home. It’s not where I belong.”

  “Where exactly do you think you belong?”

  Fucking Graham.

  “Here. I belong here.”

  Hell yeah! That’s my girl!

  Graham laughs. “I tried to show you a better life . . . something other than being a hillbilly. I spoiled you, helped you with your career, and now you’re throwing it back in my face? I should’ve known you were a lost cause.”

  That’s fucking it!