Ridge

by Scott, S. L.

  I don’t know if she doesn’t mind me finishing to protect her or to give me the relief, but we both know what I was going to say. Moving against me, she wraps her arm around my neck and holds me closer. “Your mother is . . . she’s not doing well?”

  “Damn. I didn’t see that coming.” Fuck these tears that want to come. I look toward the sun, hoping to burn them away. Exhaling a deep breath, they go back to wherever I’ve been holding them deep inside, and I choose to look in her eyes instead. “How do you know about her?”

  “Laird mentioned it as though I already knew. As though everyone already knew. But you didn’t tell me.”

  “You had a lot on your plate already, your own problems to deal with. You didn’t need mine.”

  “What if I want them? What if I want to be the one you share these things with?” I don’t know when we stopped dancing, but we’ve been standing long enough for me to notice the stillness. She begins to pace away from me. “But this can’t be about us. Not today.” Whipping back around, she asks, “How is your mother? And how are you? That’s what matters. And Stella and Rivers since it’s their day. But me, don’t think twice about me.” She rushes back into my arms. “I want to be here for you.”

  “I’m not sure where to start.” It’s a lot all at once.

  “What can I do for you?”

  “Meadow, I don’t want to talk about my mom. We have three days away, and if this is all I get with you, I don’t want to waste a minute.”

  She glances over her shoulder and then says, “We should go then. They’ll be back soon.”

  “They?”

  A sweet smile appears on her pretty face. “Stella and Rivers. We should be there when they are introduced.”

  “Huh? Introduced to who?”

  “No,” she says, shaking her head. “When they’re announced as husband and wife.”

  “Oh.”

  She takes my hand and grabs the bouquet again. We walk down the path and into the pavilion. Quickly turning to me, she says, “We don’t have to stay long, but I need to be here when she arrives.”

  “Yes, of course. That’s why we’re here.”

  Rubbing the top of my hand, she says, “I’m sorry about your mom. I don’t want to push, but if you want to talk about it, we can.”

  I wrap an arm around her shoulders and kiss her head. Talking about my mom won’t change anything, and although I want to share my pain with Meadow, I know today’s not that day. “Another time. Let’s just enjoy the night.”

  Everyone has been eating and drinking, celebrating on this beautiful night.

  Darcy sits across from us, and says, “Your sister looks sex-drunk.”

  Meadow looks around. “My sister’s here?”

  The newlyweds finally walk in looking very much as Darcy described. I laugh. “Good for them.”

  Rushing around the table, Meadow runs to her sister. “You’re here. Congratulations, Mrs. Crow.” She sways to the side, drunk in a different way than her sister. She hugs Rivers and then turns back to me.

  While everyone else greets the happy couple, I can’t take my eyes off the former maid of honor. Her friend pulls her onto the dance floor, and the music is turned up.

  “She’s fucking hot.”

  I shoot a glare across the table where Laird sat down. “What the fuck, man?”

  “Meadow’s hot too,” he says, laughing, “but I was talking about her friend.”

  Relief washes over me. “I thought I was going to have to fucking punch you.”

  “I think you’re in deep, dude. That must be some sweet cherry juice.”

  Cherry. I look back to find Meadow in the crowd. “Get some fuckin’ manners, Faris.” I laugh. “The sweetest cherry juice I’ve ever had.” I get up to go get my girl. Sure, I’ve had a few beers, and she’s a couple of glasses into the party, but something feels right for the first time in forever.

  I slip my arms around her waist and pick her up, spinning her in my arms. I kiss the underside of her jaw, and she begins to laugh. When her arms come around me and she holds me close, I say, “I want to be with you.”

  Cherry cheeks meet sweet pink lips as her face brightens. She lifts up on her toes to kiss my neck. “Right now?”

  “Always.”

  Running a finger down the center of my nose. “Be careful there, rock star. The minister’s only a call away.”

  “I’m starting to like you drunk.”

  “You don’t like me sober?”

  “Too much.” I kiss the tip of her finger. “I like you too much, Meadow.”

  “Is there such a thing as too much?” Her head rolls to the side as she looks me in the eyes. “You’re still holding me, by the way.”

  “I know. I like you like this.”

  “Trapped?” She giggles and hiccups. “Like in that hammock?”

  “That wasn’t as much fun.” I lower her until her feet reach the ground. “But it had to be done.”

  Holding me by the face, she says, “I’m sorry I wasn’t listening.”

  “It would help if I would have been more open and told you.”

  “It’s not about your words. It’s about your heart. I promise to hear what it tells me instead of only listening to the beats.” When our lips meet, it’s not just the physical contact but the words she doesn’t have to say that are felt.

  She cares more than she can say, and I’ll take it. “Are you ready?”

  “My whole life.”

  23

  Meadow

  Ridge is a bad boy with a charming smile. When aimed right at me, how is a good girl supposed to survive?

  Ridge is all wrong for me.

  He’s famous.

  Lives in LA.

  And has probably slept with a billion women, including me.

  If I’m going to be in a relationship, it’s going to be with someone I can go to bed with each night and wake up next to in the morning.

  As for Dave . . . I can make an exception.

  I let my gaze roll over each ab muscle I was licking last night and linger on his face. I feel so much for him all at once that it scares me. That’s what it all boils down to. Fear.

  Fear of the unknown.

  Fear of letting people down.

  Fear of what will become of me.

  Fear of everything.

  I used to be brave, or maybe it was blind stupidity.

  I remember how handsome Dave looked with the last bit of sunlight sneaking in the car as we drove through the desert.

  Strong, but always careful when it comes to me. He really has been more patient than I deserve. His determination is attractive like his face, and swoony like his body. Delectable like his lips. I’ve never been more horny than when I’m with him.

  “Surely, it’s not natural to want sex this much.”

  It’s him. He does this to me.

  I just know it is, but I can’t lose my better judgment because we’re so good between the sheets. The road trip only brought out my fears because I’m not frivolous in my normal, boring everyday life. But with him, he makes me want to throw caution to the wind, so I did. It was freeing to just be, to feel like me for a few days.

  No expectations.

  No pressure.

  No weighted thoughts arising from my upbringing.

  How many other women does he do that to? Endless. He should be with someone who comes with less baggage. Someone who is light, spontaneous, fun. But he seems to want me.

  I snuggle back against his side and wrap my arm over his stomach. Mine.

  “Go to sleep, Meadow. Save your worries for another day.” A kiss is placed on the top of my head while a yawn comes without warning.

  Guess I didn’t realize how tired I’ve been. The music is still playing, the property alive with laughter and singing, but I’m happiest in his arms. I kiss him on the ribs. “I’m glad I’m here.”

  “So am I.”

  * * *

  The room is still dark, night lingering a little longer as
if it knows we need the extra hours. When I find the bed empty beside me, I sit up slowly and look for Dave. The balcony door is cracked open, letting the moonlight slip in.

  His body is a work of art—built biceps, broad shoulders, tall with strength built into his legs, and that ass. I’ve started collecting quarters in hopes of bouncing them off him one day. Wonder if he’ll let me.

  My lower body clenches, craving him again. I prefer the fullness to the emptiness without him. In all ways, it seems. My feet land on the wood floors, and I pad to the doorway, grabbing his discarded shirt on the way. I only bother with a few buttons before stopping to inhale his scent from the shirt. Everything about him draws me in. He’s my personal aphrodisiac. Wanting the real thing more, I peek out and take in his full glory. He’s wearing only boxer briefs, and a thrill of giddiness rushes through me because he’s all mine.

  Leaning against the railing, he turns when he hears me. “Did I wake you?”

  I embrace him from behind, holding him in my arms and inhaling the real thing this time. Covering my hands with his, he brings one to his lips and kisses it. Resting my cheek against his back, I poke his side. “No, but I didn’t like waking up without you, Carson.”

  I love the way his body moves when he chuckles. Angling my body between him and the railing, I look up at him, admiring his rugged good looks—the stubble that shadows his jaw, his nose that’s straight but has a slight bump that looks earned through a fight or two, and those eyes that always see the real me even when I tried to hide behind a façade. “I like you missing me, Fellowes.”

  Leaning down, he runs his nose along the length of my neck. “God, you smell deliciously divine.”

  “I smell like sex and you.”

  “Like I said, sweetheart, divine.” His tongue drags against my skin, and then he nibbles on my earlobe, firing off goose bumps all over my skin. “Never shower, okay?”

  A giggle escapes, but soon, I close my eyes because he feels too good. My body grinds against his leg that wedged between mine. “Come back to bed.”

  “Turn around instead,” he whispers against my neck.

  I release a panting breath, feeling so needy already. Only he has ever done this to me, and I feel no shame in wanting him like I do—for being what he needs and taking my fair share. He encourages it. Sex with him isn’t about him or me; it’s about who we become when we’re together, when we become one.

  I do what he says and turn in his arms. His tone is firmer, not as kind as usual, but needy like me. “Hold strong for me.”

  As I grip the wood railing, the back of the shirt is lifted, letting air blow across my bare skin. His hands slink under the white cotton and up the front of my body until he’s holding my breasts in each hand. His erection presses against the seam of my cheeks, and I suck in a jagged breath.

  His body rocks against mine a few times to tease with foreplay, but I’m already so ready for him that I moan. Closing my eyes, I let the sensations of him running his body along mine take over. The tip of him puts pressure at my entrance, and he kisses my neck. He fills my soul as his body fills me, making me whole once again.

  “You feel amazing,” is breathed against my skin, and then my hair is swept aside so he can kiss my neck again. My body is full, but I yearn for more.

  As I drop my head forward, the palm of his hand pushes to bend me forward a bit more. The power of his thrust gets stronger, and I hold the railing even tighter. “Faster, babe.”

  He aims to please, so slow and steady turns fast and frantic. His hands leave my body and bump up next to mine as he cages me in and fucks me from behind. My breathing becomes shallow, but I manage to say, “Oh God, yes, you feel so good.”

  A hint of laughter fills the air, and Dave stops moving with his body still attached to mine. I hold my breath as Johnny and Holli stop to kiss on the path. They’re not in a hurry, but I am. Dave covers my backside with his body, the heat scorching me, and whispers, “Breathe, baby.”

  I relax, feeling safe in the confines of his arms.

  Holli jumps up on Johnny’s back and they wander down the rest of the path to their building.

  I ask, “Did they see us?”

  “No. Those two only have eyes for each other, and they’re two sheets to the wind. They didn’t even look up.” He pulls out and takes my hand. “I’m not willing to take the risk again, though.” Inside, he asks, “How do you want it?”

  “You were doing pretty good before.”

  “Pretty good? Fuck if that’s not a challenge I’m willing to take. I don’t do anything half-ass.” His eyes are set on mine as he cups my face. “I love looking at this gorgeous face, but I want you from behind.”

  A tingle rushes my veins, and I climb onto the bed. “Don’t leave me waiting.”

  The stretch that burns feels so good when he enters me again. I lose my breath and give in all over again. A hand reaches around, and two deft fingers play my clit like his guitar, sending me over the edge just before he joins me.

  It doesn’t take much, and I’m too turned on to last any longer. Little quakes tremor through my body, and then his control is shaken, and he comes along with me.

  When he’s given me everything he has, we lie on the bed together, his body on mine. I like the weight of him on me, so when he rolls to the side, he leaves me feeling bereft. His arms open wide, and he looks exhausted. “Fuckin’ hell, Meadow.”

  “You definitely never do me half-ass. That was full ass if I ever felt it.” I laugh at my lame joke, but the best part is he laughs too.

  After a few minutes of basking in the afterglow, he turns to me and runs the back of his hand over my cheek. “I could get used to this.”

  Moving closer, I kiss his shoulder and then maneuver a little more on top of him and kiss that crow tattoo that flies over his heart. “I could too.” Resting my head on his chest, I listen to the steadying beat of his heart.

  “Are you hungry?”

  “I’ve built up an appetite.” My eyes remain closed, but a smile pops into place.

  “I’ll go to the main house and get us some food.”

  “I’m too sleepy to eat, and I don’t want you to leave me.” Before he has a chance to get out of bed, I tighten my hold around him. “Stay with me.”

  I get a kiss to the top of my head before he lies back, relaxing on the mattress under me. “I’ll stay.” Words I wish I could hear every day. But is it just for the sex? I mean, he’s a god in bed. No. I know it’s more. I’ve never felt such a strong connection with someone other than Stella. And if I’m really honest with myself, that’s what I yearn for. Connection . . . every day. Dave can’t promise to be that everyday man in my life because of his job. The question is, can I accept that? Because I think I’ve met my soul’s mate.

  But, he makes me believe in the possibility. His arms wrap around me, and with a modicum of peace in my heart, we fall asleep.

  24

  Meadow

  Jet and Hannah are sitting with the kids on the beach just as the top of the sun reaches the sky. The property faces west, so they’re not there to catch the sunrise. I can’t tell what they’re doing. I’m too far to hear anything, but they don’t even seem to be talking much.

  So I continue to watch—them, the ocean waves as they crash, the clouds burning away—the beginning of the day.

  Arms that make me feel safe in a world of uncertainty wrap around me, and I’m kissed just below the ear, evoking my smile. Resting his chin on my shoulder, he sees the little family on the beach and watches with me. “C’mon,” he says.

  I stop in my room to slip on a bikini and a cover-up while he puts on his board shorts. Together, we walk down to the beach that feels like it was created for our personal use.

  Being the last morning, other people are starting to meander out of their rooms. The alcohol was flowing at the reception, but the majesty of this early morning is too hard to resist.

  Rochelle and Dex come down the stairs behind us. Greetings are exchanged
but not much else. I think it’s safe to say that we’ll be using the trip back to recover. They take a path to the right, holding hands. I’ve heard stories of her being a ballbuster, but after watching her with the drummer of The Resistance, all I see is a woman in love. I can’t get started on the way he looks at her. It makes my heart ache for a love like theirs.

  Sneaking a peek at Dave, I see the makings of it. My natural instinct is to retreat, to find the comfort of solitude. Become untouchable. But I fight it. I fight the inclination to pull away, to give in to the words that tricked my mind into believing I’m choosing to be alone.

  I’m not.

  I don’t want to be alone.

  I hold Dave’s hand tighter because maybe if I let him in, he can save me.

  “Meadow . . . Meadow? Baby?”

  I open my eyes to find we’re off the path near the hammock where we had our fight the other day. “What?”

  “Where’d you go, sunshine?”

  I glance around, confused by the question. “I’m right here.”

  Rubbing my temple, he says, “No, where’d you go in here? You disappeared on me.”

  Is he ready? To be exposed to the things I’ve tried so hard to hide? He says he wants this, wants us, and even though this scares the crap out of me, I take a deep breath and decide it’s time. It’s time I let him see the truth.

  “My mother sat me down the day she walked out on my father and me and Stella.” I want to push him away, tell him to run, but he’s looking at me like I’m giving him the pieces of me he needs. “She told me never to marry a man for love. That when the love runs out, it will leave me dried up and alone. Dried up,” I repeat the last part just for me. This time, his hand tightens around mine, and he takes my other and kisses it so gently I want to weep.

  Lowering my gaze to the connection, I continue to say all the things I was supposed to keep hidden inside. “I was thirteen. Thirteen.” I laugh humorlessly. “That’s the impression she gifted me of love and life, that and weeks of nightmares that I would die alone in the desert. She didn’t want me enough to stay. Stella was one foot out the door already, ready to be with Rivers. And my dad . . . my dad used to come into my room drunk, wake me up, and tell me never to rely on anyone because they’ll only hurt me in the end, just as he’d been hurt. I won’t even get into the names he called me when he confused me for my mother in his drunken stupor.”