Swept Away: A Small Town Romance (The Moore Brothers Book 3)

by Abby Brooks

  “Maybe I should be a bad girl more often, if that’s how I get punished,” she said after she managed to get her panties pulled back up where they belonged.

  Harry smiled and pulled her in close. “I meant what I said,” he murmured. “You are mine and I am yours and distance isn’t going to change that. I’ve never felt this way about another person and I’ll be damned if I let you slip through my fingers just because we don’t live in the same place.”

  Willow smiled up at him. She didn’t have any words for him, at least none that wouldn’t make her cry again and she was already pretty damn sure her makeup was a disaster, what with the tears and Harry smearing her lipstick across her face. Not that she minded about that last part. He could go right ahead and do that to her any time he wanted. After giving herself a minute to overcome the lump of emotion in her throat, Willow finally spoke.

  “I should probably stop in the bathroom and get cleaned up before I show myself in there.”

  “You look pretty fucking hot to me,” he said. “What with your lipstick on my hand and all.”

  “I mean, if you want to upstage your brother’s wedding party with a Willow and Harry Have Been Fucking on the Deck announcement, be my guest. I just thought now wasn’t the time to make it so obvious.”

  Harry laughed. “I guess you’re right. There might be a better time to start letting everyone know how I feel about you. Today probably isn’t the day.” He kissed Willow again, deeply, fervently. “Just needed one more before you get yourself put back together.” He kissed her again. “And one more.” Another kiss. “Maybe just one more.”

  Willow laughed as he continued kissing her, happier than she remembered being in a long time.

  19

  December

  Well, it was official. Harry’s family now had one more member. Juliet Lane had become Juliet Moore. The ceremony was beautiful, or at least that’s what everyone told Harry when it was over. He really didn’t have a single clue. All he knew about that day was Willow. How she looked in her bridesmaid dress. How she tasted when he took her into a closet at the church and fucked her until her legs went weak. How she felt in his arms that night, the first full night she spent in his bed. And then, how his entire being had ached as she waved goodbye to him from the doorway at the boarding gate, tears swelling in her eyes.

  And in his.

  Now that Willow was back in New York City, Harry had never been more attached to his phone in all his life. She sent sweet texts in between her rehearsals with American City Ballet. Pics of her in her ballet get up, which was fine with Harry because apparently dancers don’t wear much and what they do wear clings to the body like second skin. But even better than that were the pics of her wearing nothing at all. He saved those for when he was home alone and he could take his hard dick in his hand and stroke himself to completion, her name on his lips, her face in his mind.

  They had a standing video chat date each night before she went to bed and while he ate a (very) late dinner in his office at the restaurant. And while it was good, while she continued to grow herself a special place in his heart, Harry grew ever more aware of her absence. As if he were missing a limb. He just wanted to touch her. Just wanted to see her and smell her and run his hands through that long blonde hair and up those long lean legs.

  And he would.

  Soon.

  His bags were packed and his tickets were on the counter downstairs and he was all set to leave for New York in the morning. He was so excited to see her, there was no way he was going to fall asleep tonight. Even when he managed to quiet his mind, his heart kept crying out in happiness.

  They only had two days and one night together, but that was better than the no days and no nights they had been living through for the past couple weeks. Besides. He had managed to fall completely in love with her in the week she had been in Bliss. Clearly, a lot could happen in just a couple days.

  That’s right. Harry was in love with Willow. He knew it in the way he knew he was destined to run a restaurant rather than just cook in one. He knew it the same way he knew his family had his back no matter what happened. In the same way he knew that the sun rose in the east and that when it shined in Willow’s hair, it made it look like a halo of spun gold shining around her face.

  What he didn’t know was how he was going to get Willow into his life for good. How long he was going to wait before he opened up a discussion with her about figuring out how they could live together. Where they would live together. Which one of them would give up the life they built in order to be with the other.

  Even worse, he didn’t even really know for sure that she was interested in creating a life with him. Sure, he loved her, but did she love him? Was it silly to even wonder such a thing when they had only spent a handful of days together?

  When it came down to it, all those questions, all that fear, it all paled in the knowledge that some time tomorrow, he would be with her. The rest would work itself out. Somehow, some way, the answer would make itself clear, and if it didn’t, then he would hunt down the answer and work on it until he got what he wanted.

  And what he wanted was Willow Tamran at his side. Every single day. Every single night. Whether they fell asleep to the sound of the ocean or the sound of cars honking in the city streets, as long as they fell asleep with his arms wrapped around her, then Harry knew everything would be okay.

  But, how do you say all of that out loud without sounding like a crazy person when they had only spent a week together? The answer is, you don’t. So, Harry fully intended to see her as many times as he could manage in the coming weeks. To speak to her at least once a day, every day. And if that meant he had to spend some extra money to get himself to her or her to him, then so be it. Willow was worth it.

  No.

  They were worth it.

  * * *

  His flight left before the sun had fully risen above the horizon. When he got everything booked all those weeks ago, he had thought that he would get some sleep on the plane to make up for the early morning, but now that he was in the air and so fucking excited to see her face, there was no possible way he could close his eyes. Hell, he couldn’t even focus on the books he had pre-loaded onto his Kindle to read in case he couldn’t sleep.

  He spent the flight clutching his armrests and bouncing his foot. At one point, the stewardess—probably thinking he was scared out of his mind—stopped by to make sure he was okay. When he beamed up at her and told her he was totally more than okay, she clearly thought he was a maniac at first. Her sweet smile morphed into a grimace that tried it’s best to fool everyone into believing it was still a smile.

  “I’m flying to see the woman I love,” he explained and watched the grimace melt back into a smile again.

  She patted his arm and promised they would be on the ground soon. Harry spent the remainder of the relatively short flight counting the seconds in his head and pretending not to notice. By the time the wheels hit the tarmac, Harry was vibrating with excitement, ready to launch himself out of his seat and race down the skybridge to the terminal. But, of course, as soon as the seatbelt light went off, everyone on the plane stood up and, for whatever reason, just kept right on standing there.

  After what felt like another year of waiting, they finally got moving and he finally got off the plane and damned if he didn’t see Willow standing right there, bouncing up and down with excitement. He was smiling with his whole body and so focused on getting to her, it was as if the people in between them felt the sheer power of his need to touch her and the crowd parted for him. A direct path to Willow opened up and he ran to her. Wrapped her up in his arms, picked her up, and spun her in a circle. He put her down and breathed her in, pressed her body close to his and laughed from the sheer happiness being near her brought him.

  “It is so fucking good to see you,” he murmured in between kisses. He didn’t care who saw them. Didn’t care that they were in a public place and he was making a spectacle of their reunion. Let them w
atch. He had no shame in loving this woman so ferociously.

  “And it’s so fucking good to see you,” she said, her breath catching in her chest as she choked back tears. “I can’t even begin to describe how much I missed you.”

  “However much you think you missed me, I can guarantee I missed you more.” Harry kissed her again. And again. And again.

  Willow shook her head in between kisses. “I promise,” she said and then he kissed her. “That I…” He kissed her again. “Missed…” Another kiss. “You more!” she said as fast as she could as Harry dove in for another kiss.

  They walked arm in arm to gather his luggage, which wasn’t much because he wouldn’t be here long. Willow paused in front of the gift shop. “Tell me you brought a coat and it’s in your suitcase.”

  “Of course I did.” Harry bent to unzip the mostly empty bag. “I just forgot to get it out.”

  Willow let out a long breath. “Good. We could have stopped in here and bought you a sweatshirt or something, but you’d have paid out the ass for it.”

  He pulled on his coat and zipped it up but still froze in shock when he stepped outside and got a blast of winter wind in the face. “How do you stand it?” he asked, shivering.

  Willow ducked her chin into her coat. “Just hunker down and wait for spring.”

  * * *

  They took a cab straight to her apartment—a small space that she shared with another dancer who was conscientiously absent when they arrived—and Willow was on her knees and prying at his belt buckle before the door had even closed behind them. A vague part of him suggested that he should sweep her up and carry her to the bedroom, fuck her brains out and then fall asleep cuddled up against her, but he couldn’t hear that part over the way she looked up at him with his dick in her mouth, those big blue eyes doing crazy things to his heart.

  One mind-blowing orgasm later and Willow showed him around her apartment. It didn’t take long because there just wasn’t that much to see. Her place was limited in the space department. Of course, what space she did have, she had used intelligently with an eye on artful, economic arrangements. “And here,” she said as she opened up the door to her bedroom. “Is where you’ll repay me later for that blow job you just got.”

  Harry dropped his bag and pulled her to him. “I’ll repay you now.” He kissed her neck and squeezed that tiny, yet spectacular ass.

  Willow dropped her head back, opening up more room for his mouth to explore her throat. “No can do big boy,” she said, practically purring. “The orgasms you give me leave my legs jellified for hours. I can’t have jelly legs onstage tonight.” She groaned. “But after? I am so totally cashing in.”

  They spent the day in her apartment, talking and cuddling and making out. She suggested they go sightseeing, but since Harry had already seen the sights before and because it was December in New York and that meant it was cold as all hell outside, Harry was just fine with hanging out with Willow on the couch. Besides, she was what was special about this trip. All the rest was just background.

  They talked and they snuggled and they talked some more and it was like they had always been together. And yet, knowing that he only had today and tomorrow with her made him cherish each second. He promised himself that he would remember each and every moment and took enough pictures of her that she joked about him filling up his phone.

  “You know you don’t have to come to the ballet tonight,” she said as she made lunch—the biggest meal he had ever seen her eat.

  “Yes, I do.” He eyed the copious amounts of chicken salad made with Greek yogurt and avocados on her plate. “This is part of you and I want to know all of you, and therefore, through the process of intellectual extrapolation, I actually need to go see The Nutcracker.”

  Willow shrugged in a manner that suggested she thought he was making a bad decision. “First of all, you can stop staring at my lunch. I know it’s a lot, but I have a big night and need my energy. And second of all, I want to make it known that I’m trying to let you off the hook here. The Nutcracker is really boring. You are not going to like it.”

  Harry waved away the lunch comment and went straight for the comment about the ballet. “Are you in it?”

  Willow nodded, her mouth full.

  “Then I’m going to love it.”

  * * *

  He most definitely did not love it. The Nutcracker was every bit as boring as Willow made it out to be. Well, except for when she was on stage. Then, it was captivating and entrancing and the most beautiful thing Harry had ever seen.

  Juliet was right. The internet was right. Willow had a gift. Even simple movements were filled with meaning. So strong and elegant and emotional and true that Harry found himself fighting tears for no reason at all while he watched her. There was nothing emotional about The Nutcracker, but dear god, there was everything emotional about watching Willow do what she loved most.

  20

  “Good god, you’re so fucking good.” Harry had been saying that ever since she found him waiting near the backstage entrance after the show. It was the first thing he said to her when he saw her, right before he swept her up in a bone-crushing hug. A hug that elicited a more than a few surprised chuckles from other dancers leaving the theater. He had said it more than once during the cab ride home and apparently he didn't intend to stop since, now that she was unlocking the door to her apartment, he was still saying it.

  Willow liked a good compliment as much as anyone else but this was verging on getting uncomfortable. She pulled him inside the apartment and wrapped her arms around him. In preparation for this visit, they had both gotten themselves tested and since Willow was on birth control and they both showed up clean, they were going to forgo the condom tonight. She was so desperate to have him inside her, skin to skin, the absolute most intimate way for a woman to be with a man.

  “Why don’t you show me just how fucking good I am.” She kissed him, slid her hand up his thigh, and grabbed his rapidly growing cock.

  Behind her, someone coughed. “Umm… hey. I’m here.”

  Shit. Her room mate had promised she wouldn't be home tonight. What the hell was she doing here? Willow untangled herself from Harry and positioned herself in front of him to hide the very noticeable evidence of his arousal.

  “Hey, Sasha,” Willow said. “I thought you were going to be out tonight.” Willow widened her eyes at the younger girl in a look that said I’m going to fucking kill you if you tell me you’re not going to be out tonight.

  Sasha was stretched out on the couch, her foot propped up on a set of pillows and draped in several bags of ice. “I was supposed to go out, but my ankle had other ideas.”

  Dread dropped Willow’s stomach into her feet. Injury was the kiss of death. “Oh no! What happened?” She ran over to the couch and gingerly lifted the bags of ice from Sasha’s leg and flinched when she saw it. The ankle was so swollen, it looked like a tennis ball was trying to hide just underneath the skin. A vicious bruise stretched from halfway up her shin all the way to her pinky toe. “Shit! That’s bad. Why aren’t you at the hospital?”

  Harry peeked out from around Willow. “Are you the girl in the puffy dress who went down in the second act?”

  “That’s me,” Sasha said with a grimace. “The girl in the puffy dress.” She gave her attention to Willow. “You know that crazy series of arabesques in Waltz of the Flowers?”

  “Yep.” Willow shook her head sadly. “I thought the conductor was playing awfully fast tonight.”

  Sasha took a deep breath and closed her eyes while she let it out. “That he was. Just a little too fast for the girl at the end of the line in the crazy arabesque series.”

  “Did you finish dancing?”

  Sasha shook her head. “I couldn’t. I got off stage as quickly as I could, but it was all kind of a blur.” She turned to Harry. “Could you tell I wasn’t supposed to exit when I did?”

  He shrugged. “I watched you leave, but I thought you were supposed to. I was actual
ly really glad the timing worked out that you didn’t have to keep dancing because I was pretty sure you were hurt.”

  Relief flooded Sasha’s face and she sank back into the couch. “Thank goodness.” She waved them away. “You guys go have your fun bedroom time. I’ll be fine out here. I’ll just turn up the TV and pretend I can’t hear you.”

  Ignoring the look of utter horror on Harry’s face, Willow refilled Sasha’s drink, made sure she had a snack within reach, and checked to make sure that her ice bag was full before she took Harry’s hand and led him back to her bedroom. She closed and locked the door and turned to him.

  “You’re gonna have to keep me quiet again,” she said, putting her hands on his chest and leaning in. “Like that time on the deck at your restaurant.” Just the thought of that night got her all hot and bothered.

  Harry looked skeptical. “Are you sure she’s okay? Shouldn’t we take her to a hospital or something?”

  “The physical therapist was sure to have checked her out as soon as she got off stage. That doesn’t look like break, it looks like a sprain. Which sucks. But we’ve all been there. Rest, ice, and elevation.” Willow ran her hands up her body and cupped her breasts, gave her nipples a little squeeze through her shirt. “Now, last I checked, you owed me an orgasm.”

  Harry’s eyes went wide. “Holy shit, why are you so hot?” His voice rasped in his throat and his eyes went all dark and greedy. “Be a good girl and take off your shirt and play with your nipples again.”

  Willow slowly drew her shirt over her head and tossed it on the floor. Harry gasped when he discovered she wasn’t wearing a bra. Maybe being small chested had its perks after all. Willow kneaded her breasts and pinched her nipples, looked down to watch as she captured the little rosy peaks and rolled them between her fingers. She sucked in a breath and looked at Harry who reached between his legs and squeezed his dick. Holy fuck, now who was being hot?