by Vi Keeland
I followed the sway of her ass to the blender. Once Tom walked out the back door, I stood behind Val and whispered into her ear. “Your best friend is married to a much older man, huh?”
She poured mix into the blender. “It’s different.”
“How?”
Val turned to face me. “She was thirty-three when she met him. She got to experience life.”
We stood in almost the same exact spot as we had two nights ago when we kissed.
“I’ve experienced life. Maybe we should argue about it again. I liked the way the last disagreement we had in this spot ended.”
Val sighed. “Why don’t you go outside? I’ll be out in a minute.”
I would have preferred to stay right here, but didn’t want to push. So I put the wine I’d brought into the fridge and gathered the margarita glasses on the counter to carry outside with me. I almost forgot the other thing I’d brought, until I reached for the door handle.
Glancing back over my shoulder, I saw Val wasn’t paying attention. I slipped the yellow sticky note I’d written from my pocket and stuck it on the back door right at her eye level before heading out. Sleep with Ford really should be on her to-do list anyway.
Eve pulled out the chair next to her the minute I walked out. She patted the cushion. “Come sit. I want to get to know you better.”
Her husband shook his head. “That’s Eve-speak for I’m about to interrogate you. Sorry, man.”
I smiled and took the seat. “It’s fine. Interrogate away.”
A minute later, Valentina struggled to open the back door while holding a pitcher, salt container, and bag of chips. I got up to slide it open and took the pitcher from her hands.
The interrogation started before Val had even filled all the glasses.
“So, Ford, ever have a serious girlfriend?”
Valentina scolded her. “Eve…”
I waved her off. “It’s fine. I don’t mind at all.” I looked at Eve. “One. Lasted about a year and a half.”
“What happened?”
My eyes darted to Valentina’s and back to Eve. Gotta go with honesty. “I went through a rough patch and decided I needed to make some changes in my life. She was part of those.”
Valentina must’ve assumed the rough patch was immediately after my parents’ accident. She cleared her throat and interjected, “Ford lost his parents in a car accident five years ago.”
Eve’s face fell. “I’m so sorry.”
“Thank you.” The words hung in the air for a while, so I circled back to her initial question. “The relationship I had ended two years ago.”
Valentina’s forehead wrinkled.
Eve sipped her margarita. “Are you still friends?”
I flashed a guilty smile. “She’s not my biggest fan. No.”
Eve seemed unperturbed by my answer. “Republican or Democrat?”
“Democrat.”
“Last book you read?”
“The Outsider. Stephen King.”
“Morning person or night owl?”
“Lately, morning person.”
“What do you care about the most?”
“My sister. But don’t tell her that.”
Eve smiled. “What do you care about the least?”
I scratched my chin. “What other people think.”
“Good answer.” She nodded.
I snagged a chip and dipped into the guacamole. “Thank you.”
“What are you obsessed with?”
My eyes jumped to meet Valentina’s and then returned to Eve. I grinned. “Currently, your best friend.”
Eve’s smile grew wider while Valentina’s blush deepened. The interrogation lasted another five minutes before Tom stood and nodded toward the beach.
“What do you say we play some volleyball?”
Eve pouted. “I’m talking to Ford.”
He took her hand and tugged her up. “Yeah. That’s why it’s time for volleyball.”
***
By nine o’clock that night, it was just Val and me on the back deck. Tom was tired, and Eve had started to slur her words. I’d had fun spending the day with everyone. Bella and Nina had come by for a while, and so did the neighbors on the other side. But I was glad to finally be alone with Valentina now.
“Sorry about the all-day inquisition. Eve’s amazing, but she’s not great with boundaries.”
“It’s fine. I really liked her.”
Val sighed. “I can tell she liked you, too. Which will make her unbearable now. She wants me to get back out there.”
“Smart woman.” I grinned. “I concur.”
“A month ago she was trying to get me to go out with a waiter who wasn’t old enough to drink yet.”
That wiped the grin off my face.
“She means well… She really does. She just thinks I need to get the first one under my belt.”
“One?”
“Date. Sex. Relationship. Whatever.”
I reached for the wine we’d just broken open and refilled Val’s glass. “You really need to start taking advice from your friend. She seems very intelligent.”
Val took another deep breath. The emphasis on the exhale sounded a lot like frustration.
We were sitting next to each other, but I wanted to see her face—read every little thing it would tell me that her words wouldn’t. So I pulled her chair out and moved mine so we were facing each other.
Leaning in, our knees touched, and I caught her shivering a bit—though she tried to cover it up. Her mind might’ve been reluctant about us, but her body was damn enthusiastic.
“I’m not sorry about the kiss the other night,” I said. “Not in the least.”
She closed her eyes. “It shouldn’t have happened.”
“Forgetting that you think that for a minute, you have to admit it was fucking phenomenal.”
Val smiled sadly. “It was a good kiss, yes.”
My ego felt bruised. Good? It was better than good. I might be younger than her, but I’d kissed my fair share of women, and that kiss… It was…addictive. We had the kind of chemistry that left us incoherent. I slipped my hands under the back of her knees and tugged her toward the edge of her seat. “If you think it was just a good kiss, I think you need your memory refreshed.”
She put her hand on my chest, though I had a feeling if I’d leaned in and taken her mouth, her resistance wouldn’t have lasted. I should’ve done it. But our physical connection wasn’t the problem. It was her head I needed to work on.
“Fine.” She sighed again. “It was a mind-blowing kiss. The kind that kept me awake for three hours afterward because my body was so revved up, it couldn’t idle down enough to go to sleep. Does that make you feel better?”
I grinned. “It does. And I’m glad to know you didn’t sleep either.”
She rolled her eyes. “You made sure of that with your texts.”
Good to know. I reached out, took one of her hands, and brought her knuckles to my lips, allowing my tongue to graze over the soft skin.
“I wasn’t kidding today when I answered Eve’s question about what I’m obsessed with. You’re all I can think about for the last month.”
“I won’t insult you by trying to claim it’s a one-way street. From the moment we met on Match, I’ve spent an inordinate amount of time thinking about you, too.”
I still had her hand in mine, so I squeezed. “Doesn’t that tell you something?”
Valentina looked down at her feet for a moment before she spoke. “I started dating Ryan when I was fifteen. I got pregnant at seventeen and married at eighteen. When I was thirty-four, I caught him cheating on me. Instead of leaving, I spent a year trying to make it work. I blamed myself—I’d gained a little weight, didn’t put on makeup half the time. I thought if I got myself in better shape, kept the house nicer, paid more attention to him as a man, things would be okay.”
She shook her head. “Obviously, they weren’t. It took me a long time to accept that my failed marri
age wasn’t all my fault. But it’s taken me even longer to figure out who I am. When you become an us at fifteen and then suddenly you’re an I for the first time at thirty-five, you need to take some time to really be an I.”
She squeezed my hand this time. “I’m incredibly attracted to you. Painfully so. But even if we were the same age, I’m not ready for a relationship yet.”
My shoulders slumped. I could argue she was wrong about the age difference, but how could I argue with needing to find herself? For the first time, I felt a sense of defeat sink in.
I nodded. “Okay.”
Val smiled half-heartedly. “I’m sorry.”
I leaned in and kissed her cheek, knowing it was time to bow out and call it a night. “Me, too.”
***
My dick was just as depressed as I was.
Unlike the other nights I’d come home from next door, I didn’t feel the need to beat off. I took a quick shower to wash the sand and salt off and slipped on a pair of sweats.
It was Saturday night and not even ten o’clock. I should’ve gotten myself dressed and gone out to find someone interested in perking both my limp dick and me up. But let’s face it, there was only one person either of us was interested in.
We wanted Valentina.
So instead, I fired up my laptop and started to answer some work emails. The first few were from my assistant—confirming appointments and asking what day I wanted to meet with the lawyers about converting one of the storage buildings to office space. Then I opened one from the VP of marketing. He gave me an update on our Match.com advertising campaign—the amount of the budget spent so far and which ad targets were performing the best.
Apparently, our temporary office space appealed most to divorced singles between the ages of thirty-two and forty who were not looking for a serious relationship.
I scoffed. It must be me.
Though it made sense. It was logical that people who had just come out of a bad marriage liked the idea of temporary office space. Their lives were in a state of flux, and the last thing they wanted to do was make a new, long-term commitment when that was happening. That’s what made our office space so attractive—you could use it anytime you wanted and walk away whenever you wanted.
Use it anytime you wanted and walk away whenever you wanted.
That thought smacked me right in the face.
Jesus Christ. Am I that big of an idiot?
I’d been going about things all wrong with Valentina.
She’d told me straight out she wasn’t ready for a relationship.
And what did I do? Go home to sulk.
I needed my head examined for not proposing an alternative.
Grabbing my cell, I shot off a quick text.
Ford: Can you meet me on the beach?
A minute later the dots started to jump around.
Valentina: Now?
Ford: Yeah. I need to ask you something.
Valentina: What is it?
Nope. Not happening. This was a conversation we needed to have face to face.
Ford: It will only take a minute.
Valentina: Okay. Give me a few. I just got out of the shower.
Anxious, I went outside to wait. Valentina met me at the bottom of the stairs on the sand. Her hair was wet, and she had on shorts and a tank top.
“What’s going on?” she whispered.
“I was thinking about what you said—that you’re not ready for a relationship.”
“Okay…”
I shrugged. “Let’s not have one.”
Her cute button nose wrinkled up. “What are you talking about?”
“Simple. We’re attracted to each other. You aren’t ready for a relationship, I’m not looking to get married, and your best friend thinks you need one under your belt. We’re both out here for the summer. With any luck, you’ll be getting a teaching job. Bella will go back to school, and I’ll go back to Manhattan. We’ll both be shuttering up out here for the summer in what…eight weeks? Why not spend that time enjoying the chemistry we know is there? No strings attached. We’ll part ways, and it ends. We’ll enjoy what we can be instead of regretting what we can’t be.”
“That’s…that’s crazy.”
“Why?”
“Because…” She trailed off, unable to come up with a reason.
I smirked. “Good argument.”
She squinted at me. “You don’t have to be an ass.”
A light breeze blew, and it carried the smell of something sweet through the air. I wasn’t sure if it was her shampoo, or perfume, or maybe just soap, but it definitely woke up the lazy dog between my legs who’d been pouting since I left her earlier. Slowly, I moved toward her. Valentina took a few steps back and hit the wood of the stairs behind her.
I ducked my head to align with hers and took full advantage. “What do you say? No relationship. No expectations. Just a summer of fucking—hard, soft, whatever you’re in the mood for—whenever you’re in the mood for it.”
Valentina’s chest heaved up and down. Why the hell hadn’t I thought of this sooner? It was the perfect arrangement, really. She wanted me as much as I wanted her—we’d both be getting what we needed. Val would get a carefree summer fling, her one under the belt, and I’d get to spend the next eight weeks screwing her out of my system. I honestly wanted to kick myself in the ass for wasting the last few weeks trying to get her to go out with me when the obvious solution had been right in front of me all along.
“But…” she started to speak.
It looked like she might’ve finally thought of a reason my idea wasn’t a good one. Whatever it was, my argument was better, though mine needed to be demonstrated. I put a finger over her mouth to stop her lips from moving.
“Screw but…” I wrapped my other hand around the back of her neck, and my mouth descended on hers before she could argue. Just like the first time, whatever fight she had lasted only a heartbeat. Our tongues met, and that ever-present spark ignited to a full-blown fire. Neither of us could get enough. We groped and pulled, tugged and pushed until we were both out of breath. When we came up for air, her eyes were glazed over. I pushed a piece of her wet hair behind her ear. “Think about it. We’d be good together.”
She sucked her bottom lip into her mouth. “I should go inside.”
I didn’t want to let her, but I knew she needed to think about it.
I nodded. “Go. I’ll wait until you get inside and lock up.”
I followed her up the stairs so I could see from the deck that she made it safely inside. As she walked to the door, I played a mental game.
If she doesn’t look back, she’s going to say no.
If she looks back, she’ll say yes.
She walked all the way to the door without a glance back in my direction. But at the very last second, just as she was about to shut the door behind her, she stopped, looked up one more time, and smiled.
Fuck yes!
Chapter 13
* * *
Valentina
“So…are we going to pretend we’re not going to talk about it?” Eve sipped her coffee and eyed me over the mug.
I sighed. “I was hoping I could at least get some caffeine in me first.”
It was almost nine o’clock. I hadn’t slept this late in years. Then again, I didn’t generally stay up until three in the morning, either. But it had been impossible to fall asleep after what Ford had proposed…not to mention…that kiss.
Eve set her mug down and picked up a bottle of sunscreen. The sun was already strong. She squirted a glob of lotion into the palm of her hand and started to lather up. “He’s ridiculously hot.”
I frowned. “I know.”
“Seems smart, too.”
“He is.”
“Has a good sense of humor.”
“That’s actually what first attracted me to him when he messaged me on Match.com. He’s witty and made me laugh about the entire prospect of dating.”
Eve finished one arm and s
tarted on the other. “Do you remember when we were ten, and I crashed my bicycle into a car that was backing out of a driveway? I steered right into it and chipped my front tooth.”
“How could I forget? You flipped over the handlebars and landed sprawled out on the concrete. You were out cold, and I thought you were dead.”
“Do you remember how terrified I was of riding a bicycle after that?”
I knew where she was going with her bike ride down memory lane. “You couldn’t be more subtle if you tried. I get what you’re trying to say, and sure—of course I’m scared to get back out there. But it’s more than that. I’m just not ready.”
“There are some things we never feel fully ready for. Did you feel ready to have a baby?”
“Of course not. But I was eighteen years old and still a baby myself.”
“Did you feel ready to get married?”
“I was also a kid.”
“Alright. Well, did you feel ready to go back to college at thirty-four? Or ready to get a divorce? Or ready for your son to move away?”
I slouched into my chair. “No.”
“We’re rarely ready for the big things in life, no matter how much we prepare. Sometimes as ready as I’ll ever be has to be enough.”
God, I hated when she was right. I chewed my bottom lip. “Last night he suggested we have a summer fling—no strings attached—since I don’t want a relationship.”
Eve held out both hands. “That’s perfect!”
I’d spent half the night tossing and turning, trying to come up with an argument against his suggestion. Unfortunately, all I’d gotten out of my soul searching was dark circles under my eyes.
I sighed. “He’s twenty-five….”
“My husband is fifty-five. Wanna trade?”
She was teasing, of course. Eve adored Tom. Besides, when the only thing “wrong” with your husband to make fun of was his age, you count your lucky stars.
Eve brought her mug to her lips and stopped before sipping. “Holy shit.”
“What?”
