Because Beards
Page 52
My eyes slide from his, unable to look at him. “I can’t Rhett. I’ve got to leave here early. I promised my department manager I’d get some work to her by tomorrow morning and I haven’t even started it.” It’s a lie. And I’m pretty certain he knows.
I wait a heartbreaking second, then return my attention to him, seeing the hurt plastered all over his face. Not anger, only hurt. Here he is holding out an olive branch, once again, and I’m breaking it, once again. And that makes me feel like the worst kind of person. Because someone like Rhett who has bent over backwards for me my whole life, should never look hurt like that, and definitely not because of something I did. I almost give in and tell him I’ll go, before he half-heartedly answers, “Fine.”
He pushes off of the wall, done with this conversation, and maybe with me. I can’t tell. Without so much as a glance in my direction, he calls over his shoulder, “I’ll have the car waiting for you. It’ll be there whenever you’re ready.”
I know part of the reason he walked away before saying that is because it’s harder for me to refuse his help if he doesn’t give me the chance. But the other part is because he can’t bear to look at me right now, and that hurts worse than any rejection I’ve ever had. And that’s saying a lot, seeing as though I’ve been rejected by a man I actually birthed a child for. But this is Rhett. My Rhett.
The slow shuffle that I make on the way back to my seat is pathetic. To most people, what just happened between Rhett and I would be no big deal. However, since we never fight, this is monumental.
Sheila, short on words, weaves her arm around my shoulders. It’s a comforting weight, until it’s time to start clapping for our boys. I’m worried that my argument with Rhett before the game will affect his playing, and I think it did. But luckily, it’s working in his favor. He’s always formidable and strong, but the brutal force he’s using to swing the bat during the opening innings is something superhuman. I imagine he’s probably seeing my face on every one of those balls he’s crushing.
When it comes time, I don’t want to leave, but I lied to him and set the ball in motion so I need to make good on my pathetic excuse. Riveted by the game, and even more riveted by Rhett himself, I reluctantly peel myself from my seat close to the top of the ninth inning, giving Sheila a huge hug. She tries to make me promise to be back the next night, but I evade her as best I can. I’m worried Rhett won’t offer me the ticket after our little episode, and I don’t want to admit that to her.
I sulk the entire ride home, disappointed in myself not just for tonight, but for more things than I can count. All of the pieces of my life are held together by the thinnest thread, and the weight on my shoulders of what would happen if even one of those threads break is overwhelming.
Pulling up to my apartment complex I turn an evil eye towards my broken down car like it has personally affronted me, taking out my anger on an inanimate object. I don’t know where to start with trying to fix it. I hope and pray it’ll be cheap, and my sad excuse for a vehicle will back on the road soon because I don’t know what I’ll do if it isn’t.
Ms. Honey’s TV flickers in her living room when I walk past her front window and up the steps to my apartment door. It feels good to know I’m not the only one still awake. Somehow it makes me feel a fraction less lonely.
I go through my nightly routine, minus the smiling little face of Finn, washing off the make-up that seemed like a great idea a few hours ago, and showering all of the product out of my hair. Once I’m in my comfy sweatpants and an old Diamondbacks T-shirt with Rhett’s face on it—What can I say, I’m a glutton for punishment—I decide sleep is my only option. And who knows, maybe tomorrow will bring some clarity? I could always hope.
I never hear his footsteps on the stairs outside, or the latch on the door opening, but I do hear Rhett’s voice softly call, “Hannah?” from the direction of my living room, not long after my head hits the pillow.
“Rhett?” I’m surprised, and wonder if I imagined it. Feeling confused, I slowly pull myself up. Maybe I’ve finally lost it and am hearing voices? At this point it wouldn’t shock me.
I’m two seconds from laying back down, convinced I’m going whacko, when the light flicks on in my room, flooding it with a soft glow. The sudden brightness startles me so much, I jump.
“Sorry,” Rhett immediately apologizes when he sees my fright, coming my way with deliberate strides to comfort me. “I didn’t mean to scare you.” He takes up residence on the end of my bed, laying his warm palm on my calf. Trying to calm me. He’s showered from his game, and smells divine.
“Working hard?” His eyebrow pops up, irritated that I lied to him. I’m very obviously not working.
I divert my eyes to my lap. There’s one thing we don’t do to each other, and that’s lie. Big or small, they all count. “I’m sorry, Rhett,” I start to explain, but never finish. I’m out of excuses.
Mercifully, he lets me off the hook. “Hannah, just don’t.” His gentle tone beckons me to meet his gaze. “Be honest with me, okay? What happened here today,” he nods towards my bed, “did that upset you?”
My eyes dart away from his again, fiddling with my fingers.
“Hannah?” Rhett’s doing his best to get me to talk.
“There’s no easy answer to that, Rhett.” My brain is spinning a million miles a minute. “I mean, yeah, it upset me because things aren’t like that between you and I, and look, the one time they are, we’re fighting. This is why we should never do this. This is why we just need to be friends.” My arms flare out, encompassing the both of us and this bed, as though somehow that drives home the point.
“You’re scared?” A strange expression crosses his eyes, as if a piece of a puzzle finally locked in place for him. They squint in concentration, taking in more than just my words. He can read me like a book.
“Of course, I’m scared. You’re my whole world, Rhett. I can’t lose you.” I finally admit in a true moment of honesty. More honesty than I’ve ever given him before.
Scooting closer to me, he braces his hands on either side of my thighs. His massive chest is very close to my own. “That’s why you always turn me down? That’s why you pull away? Each and every time.” He breathes the last few words, almost to himself, his thoughts far away though he’s still staring at me, as if he’s reliving all of those moments.
“Rhett, you know my family is all but non-existent, and it’s always been you and I. You’re the one constant in my life. I know my mistakes are my fault. And I’ve learned from them, and dealt with them the best way I can. But you? You can’t be one of those mistakes. I’ve spent every day of my life protecting that one thing. I know I’m not the perfect girl. I know I’m not the girl for you, but I can’t lose you. I just can’t.” My confession leaves me feeling panicked.
Something in Rhett shifts. I can’t physically see it, but I feel it all the way to my core. His voice is a caress when he speaks again. “How can you think I’d ever leave you? You think that you could push me away? Hannah, I stood by you when the bullies in school tried to knock you down. I stood proudly by your side, in all of the times that you were confused, scared, and wrong, just as much as I did when you were happy, and life was going your way. I stood by you while you were pregnant with another man’s baby. I stood by you while he left. And I’ll be standing by you until the day I die, Hannah.” Rhett’s hand gently sweeps up the side of my face and through my hair, cradling the side of my head. “What’s going on up here in this beautiful head of yours that you think for one minute I’d ever leave you? Why would you ever think I don’t want you? What have I ever done to make you feel that way?”
I shake my head, feeling myself tremble. Rhett’s never done anything to make me feel that way, and yet, I’ve never been brave enough to tell him how I feel. And while he knows me inside and out, and knows every other fear I’ve ever had, he never knew my fear over him vanishing from my life. I start to worry that letting him in on it is a mistake.
“Do y
ou want me, Hannah?” The absolute look of sincerity and love that he is giving me would bring me to my knees if I wasn’t already sitting. “Answer that, and be honest with me about us, for once, please.” His voice is pleading, giving way to an undercurrent of pain. I’ve always avoided the topic of him and I, and it’s obvious he’s afraid that I’m going to do it again.
I’m trapped. No matter what I say, there’s no denying he’ll see through it. Even though admitting it terrifies me, I have to tell him. There’ll be no turning back after I do.
“Always.” The simple word leaves my mouth in a rush before I lose my nerve. “I’ve always wanted you, Rhett. Long before you became our hometown hero, and Finn’s personal hero, you were mine. I fell in love with you when I was so young I didn’t even know what love was and what my feelings for you meant. I don’t know anything else but loving you, and wanting you.” My head hangs at the end of my confession, terrified that now that he knows, he’ll start to pull away. Maybe I’ve just scared him off for good.
A second doesn’t pass before he has my face pulled back up to his, and his grip, while still gentle, turns more forceful. “You want me?” The words fall from his mouth as though he can’t believe them and needs one more verification. “All this time?” He stares at me in disbelief, as the truth sinks in.
Shock is written all over his face, but I’m not sure he needs an answer at this point. I nod my head anyway. His thumb pushes away from my cheek to stroke my lower lip in the lightest wisp.
“It’s always been you, too, Hannah, but I didn’t think you felt the same. You and Finn are the first thing I think about every morning, and the last thing I think about every night. You have to know that? No more being stubborn and trying to do this on your own. No more being scared,” he orders softly. “We’ve wasted too much time as it is. You’re mine now, both of you. And you’ll be mine forever.”
His solid chest closes the small distance to mine, lowering me in a torturous pace to my back. Rhett hovers over me with the most possessive look in his eyes I’ve ever seen him don, and his beautiful lips zero in on my own. I love that look. It’s my new favorite.
“Just like that,” I whisper, not believing that the only thing I ever wanted could possibly be coming true, after fighting it for so long.
Rhett’s lips lower the rest of the way to mine until we are sharing the same breath, and every word he speaks causes them to brush against my own.
“Just like that?” The tiniest of laughs spills from his mouth. “Hannah, I’ve been chasing after you for the better part of twenty years. I wouldn’t say, ‘just like that.’ I’d say, ‘it’s about time’.”
Before I can reciprocate his smile or utter another word, his lips take my own. Rhett possesses them, and makes them his. The kiss lets me know they always will be. My hand searches out his face, running my fingers through the soft stubble on his cheek, as I fall into every dream I’ve ever had, with my Prince.
About Evie Lauren
Evie Lauren resides near the beautiful mountains of Arizona, but was born and raised in Florida and is a beach girl at heart. She writes young adult fiction under the pen name R.S. Reed. While her passion has always been her young adult series, L.I.A., romance at any age is a story that she loves to tell, and the characters from her short story Hometown Prince have quickly become two of her favorites. Thank you for the support and the love, and for taking time to spend a few minutes in Hannah and Rhett’s little corner of the world. To keep up to date on all of her new projects, check out her website, and follow the links on that page for her social media.
Website: www.rsreedbooks.com
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Zoe
Looking up at the clock hanging above the dishwashing station, I anxiously wait for the minute hand to click over the three. Everything around me seems to be moving in slow motion. Each second that goes by feels like a lifetime. I hold my breath as the minute hand moves. My heart beats excitedly out of my chest when I hear the door to the café creak open, and the strand of bells hanging from the handle jingle, signaling he’s here. My sweet SWAT officer is here. Technically he’s not mine…at least not yet.
I wipe my floury hands on my apron then check my hair in the tiny mirror hanging on the door. Smoothing back the fly-away strands of hair, I push open the door and step out into the café where the sexy officer, Dylan Edwards, is standing, waiting for his coffee and his two passion fruit donuts.
Dylan has been coming into the shop every morning at six-fifteen for the past three months. He never misses a day. At least, not since I started working the morning shift. I’ve been working at Sprinkles Donut shop for the past year. I started out working the late shift, due to my rehearsal schedule with the Pacific Northwest Ballet School. Now that I am a principle with the company, rehearsals are later in the day and go well into the evening. The Delarosa’s were kind enough to change my shift so I could continue working. It’s not easy having to be up at four a.m., five days a week, but seeing Dylan’s sexy smile makes it all worth it.
“Good morning, Officer Edwards,” I say, giving him a warm smile. While my eyes drink in the view of Dylan in his dark navy blue uniform, I catch a glimpse of silver hidden away on his gun belt; it’s his handcuffs…instantly, wild images of being cuffed to his bed run rampant in my mind. That, mixed with his neatly trimmed beard and chocolate brown eyes, has my panties completely soaked.
“How is my favorite honeybee this morning?” He returns my smile as he takes the closest seat at the counter near me.
My heart flutters every time he calls me his honeybee. A nickname I’d earned one morning when he spotted the gold bumble bee necklace my sister, Nora, gave me when I found out I was going to be a principle dancer. Now I wear it every single day.
“I am doing much better now.” I wink over at him as I reach into the donut case and grab out two of his favorite donuts. The still wet icing drips down my fingers. I slide the plate over to him and, before I can move my hand away, Dylan grabs it in his strong fingers. He holds me in his intense gaze as he brings my hand up to his mouth.
“I’m done waiting,” he whispers under his breath.
A soft moan escapes my lips as he licks the icing from each of my fingers. His warm tongue and dark hungry stare makes all logical brain function fly out the window. Is this really happening? This is so damn erotic. All I wanted this morning was for Dylan to finally ask me out to dinner. Now all I want is his tongue lavishing every inch of my body.
“I’ve been playing my hand cautiously for the past three months. Waiting for the right time to make my move and make you mine. I’ve wanted you, Zoe, since the moment I laid eyes on you. I had to make sure you were ready for me, but my patience has run dry. I know you don’t have rehearsals tonight, so there is no excuse why you can’t have dinner with me. I will pick you up at seven.”
It’s not a question, it’s a demand. Not that I would even say no. I’ve been waiting for this since the morning he first stepped foot into the shop. I want to pinch myself to see if I’m dreaming. God, I hope this isn’t a dream.
Still holding my hand, Dylan stands up from his stool and leans over me. His other hand cups my chin and tilts my lips up to his. “I’ll see you tonight my sweet little honeybee,” he murmurs before capturing my lips in a warm soft kiss, his tongue sweeping in my mouth. He tastes better than I imagined.
In my daze, I manage to give him my number and my address. I can’t believe this is all happening. I watch as he confidently strides out of the shop, tucking the slip of paper in his breast pocket. He steps outside, stops in front of the window, and gives me a wave before he makes the short walk down the street to the police station.
“Oh fuck that was hot.” I fan myself with the coffee menus. My heart is still racing and my clit is throbbing. There is no way I am going to be able to function with all the blood currently rushing down between my legs. I drop the menus on the counter
and turn for the kitchen doors. Once in the kitchen, I head straight for the bathroom. I lock the door behind me and lean back against the cold wood. Slipping my hand inside my jeans, rubbing my clit in rough fast circles, I close my eyes and imagine Dylan is fucking me against this door.
His face is buried in my neck, lips and tongue caressing my delicate skin. The image of his cock thrusting in and out of my cunt has me dripping down my hand. I push three fingers inside my tight channel, pumping them in and out while strumming my clit with my thumb. “Make you mine,” plays over and over in my head until I’m coming all over my hand. My legs shake as my orgasm surges through me. Dylan is not even here, and he’s already made me come better than any of the losers I’ve dated in the past. If this is the effect he has on me from just a kiss, then I can’t wait to see what he can do with the rest of him.
I step over to the sink and wash my hands. My cheeks are still flushed, and I can’t wipe the smile Dylan has given me off my face. By the end of tonight, officer Dylan Edwards will finally be mine.
Dylan
I knock on Zoe’s door right at seven. I was so anxious and excited about tonight I pulled up to her building at six-forty-five. I’ve been planning this entire night for the past week. To be honest, I’ve been planning this since the day we met. I walked into that donut shop three months ago and saw the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. With eyes as blue as the ocean, hair as golden as the sun, and a smile that could melt the coldest of hearts. Zoe looked like a fucking angel, and she turned my whole world upside down. She has consumed my every thought, making it even harder for me to concentrate at work. I keep imagining her long lean legs wrapped around my waist while I fuck her tight little cunt. My name spilling from her perfect sweet lips.