Hard to Fall

by Marquita Valentine

  Her lips twist a little. “Is that why you’re practically under the table and covering your face right now? I didn’t realize that was how you embrace the attraction.” She playfully smacks her forehead with the heel of her hand. “If only you had told me this last year, then it would have saved Hunter and me so much trouble.”

  “Really works”—I smile sheepishly—“by, uh keeping the relationship, um…from growing stale.”

  She doesn’t look convinced and I can’t blame her. My explanation is beyond my usual Saylor-speak. “Two dates doesn’t a relationship make.”

  “A marriage does,” I all but hiss.

  “Holy shit. You really did it…you got married.”

  Nodding glumly, I quickly glance around the bar. “Where did he go?”

  Eva’s eyes widen, and then she frowns a little. “He’s on a date. That bastard!”

  “What!” I sit up and almost wrench my neck trying to get a glimpse of him. “Don’t call him names. He really doesn’t remember what happened.” When I finally spot him, he’s at the bar.

  Alone. Yet surrounded by women. Okay, so not exactly surrounded, but none of those women are me.

  “I thought you said he saw me.”

  “He did, but when you slid under the table and covered your face, he walked to the bar instead of coming here. He looked disappointed. Maybe you should revisit your theory on keeping a relationship fresh.”

  Guilt and embarrassment collide, even as I know Evangeline’s just teasing me. I suck in my top lip to keep from crying. “I’m such a horrible person. He’s been nothing but nice to me…with the exception of not remembering getting married and getting my name right the morning after.”

  “Oh, honey,” Eva begins, sympathy making her eyes shine in the dim light of the bar. “I’m so sorry. Honestly, I’ve never been in a situation like yours, so I’m not sure what you should do.”

  “I guess I should be honest and tell him the entire story, not just parts and pieces.” But when and how? Should I blurt it out, write him a letter and send it by carrier pigeon? Maybe act it out in the mime class I’ve been meaning to take?

  What a mess.

  “That’s always the best thing. Lies have a way of biting you in the tail.”

  “The only thing I want biting my tail is Hayden because when he did that, I…never mind.” My face heats up so quickly that my glasses fog up. “Are you ready to go?”

  “Nope.” She takes another bite of nacho, then winks at me. “Only kidding. If you’re ready, then I’m ready.”

  I’m not ready, not really. I want Hayden to notice me just as badly as I want to slip away unnoticed.

  “Finish your drink first, so you don’t choke,” I instruct her.

  She makes a face at me. “Yes, Mother.”

  Waiting another minute, I try to Jedi-mind-trick him into coming to our booth.

  “No dice,” I mutter.

  “The force is on the fritz,” Evangeline says as we stand.

  I can’t even give her a Yoda-like answer so I can appear all flippant about it. “Yes.”

  We leave enough money to cover the bill and tip our server on the table. Eva slips her arm through mine and we walk to the entrance. I keep my gaze straight ahead, not wanting to see my husband cheating on me.

  Okay, so he can’t technically cheat on me without knowing that we’re married first. Which makes my lie of omission even worse.

  “I have to tell him right now,” I blurt.

  “Have to tell who what?”

  Whirling around, I find Hayden standing behind me, his sexy blue eyes taking in everything and making me think all sorts of things. Naughty things that he did to me and encouraged me to do to him that night.

  “Put your mouth on my—yeah, right there,” he groans, his face contorting with pleasure.

  “You taste so damn good.” He peers up at me from between my thighs, his lips wet. “Want you riding my face when I wake up in the morning.”

  “That the force is on the fritz,” Evangeline says, saving me from completely looking like a fool.

  But she didn’t save me from my response to the memories. My clit is throbbing and my nipples are aching for his touch again. His talented mouth and tongue, the way he—

  Oh no. Not going down that path again.

  “No doubt,” he agrees. “Tried to use it on you a couple of times so you’d stop hiding from me and come join me at the bar. Had to drink a cherry Coke all by myself.”

  “You know what I like?” I say, all bemused and turned on.

  He winks at me. “Might have gotten insider information from your bestie.”

  I pin my gaze on Evangeline. “You told him!”

  Grinning, she shrugs in a totally unhelpless gesture. “I didn’t want him to get your drink wrong.”

  “You knew he was coming here tonight?”

  “No, you told me,” Hayden says.

  “I did not.” Oh crap, I totally told him.

  He pulls out his phone and reads my text back to me. My face heats and I silently pray that Evangeline doesn’t contradict him.

  “Fine.” Reaching out to Hayden, I take his hand in mine. “Might as well get this over with.”

  “Hunter’s on his way to get me, so I’ll just wait by the door,” my best friend calls out brightly.

  “We can wait with you,” Hayden offers.

  “Oh no. You’re not getting out of this date by hanging out with someone who isn’t your wife,” I snap.

  At his odd look, I smash my lips together and lead him back to the booth Eva and I just occupied. “Sit. You can help me finish off the nachos.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  My cheeks heat at the flirtatious way he says the words. “I refuse to be charmed by you again.”

  That does nothing but make him grin. “Again?”

  “I found you semi-charming during art class.”

  “You found my mad cassette tape skills to be impressive.”

  “There is that,” I agree, then place my chin in my hands. “It’s not fair. I’ve been taking that class for weeks and you stroll in on your first day and make me look like a beginner.”

  “That’s because I spent two hours learning how to make Prince from a YouTube channel.”

  I sit up and grab the table at the edges. “That’s cheating!”

  He grabs a nacho. “Didn’t do it to cheat.”

  “Why, then?”

  “To impress you.”

  My heart flips in my chest. “You don’t need to impress me,” I admit shyly. “I know enough about you that I was impressed before we ever met.” A look of disappointment crosses his face, but I continue on, hoping that when I tell him the truth, this will ease my deception. “You save lives. You host benefits for kids who need help. Families, too. In my book, that’s impressive.”

  “Evangeline tell you that?”

  “Along with Hunter. You’ve been a topic of discussion before we ever met.” I tilt my head to one side. “Although, I was never quite sure if they were trying to play you up or warn me away.”

  “Maybe a little of both.” He stops talking and nods at the door. Taking a quick peek, I find Hunter walking with Evangeline to the bar. They’re so cute together. So in love.

  I sigh a little.

  “Why are you so hell-bent on denying the attraction between us, not mention that we actually have a decent time together?”

  I don’t answer him right away because a boulder the size of Texas is lodged in my throat. I swallow it down. “Why are you so interested in me, beyond my boobs and hair? I’m not exactly your type.” Honestly, I have no idea what his type is, but if I had to guess, it would be someone like my mom.

  Stylish and tall, really blond with high cheekbones and a wide mouth. Sophisticated. Doesn’t randomly say things just to keep everyone at a distance.

  “I don’t have a type, but if I did, it would be you.” He glances at my chest and then back at my face. “Every inch of you would be my type.”
>
  “But you don’t have one.”

  Motioning to the waitress, he orders a beer for him and a fresh glass of grenadine and Coke with extra cherries for me.

  “Could you also add vodka to that?” I ask and she nods, her eyes going to him. I can’t blame her. The man is sexy.

  “Back to our conversation,” he says once she’s done ogling him and leaves. “Have you considered that I didn’t know my type until the very moment I laid eyes on you?”

  Chapter 9

  Hayden

  Saylor stares at me like I’ve just lost my mind. Or worse, like I’m lying to her.

  “You’re so smooth, like dark chocolate in a fondue pot,” she finally says.

  “Is it really that hard to believe?”

  She swallows audibly. “A little.”

  “That’s hard for me to believe.”

  The waitress brings our drinks over and Saylor takes a huge gulp of hers before gasping, then drinks the rest down. By the time she’s done, her eyes start to get a glassy sheen to them and her body is swaying.

  “How much have you eaten?”

  “Not enough. You showed up before I could finish my nachos.”

  “Was that supposed to be your dinner?”

  She shakes her head, her glasses falling down her nose. “Planned to eat again at home.”

  “Padme cook for you?”

  She snorts. “Don’t be silly. She’s scared of the gas stove.”

  “Those can be very dangerous.”

  “I’m not my mom.” She hiccups, then waves our waitress down. “Could you bring me another one?”

  “If you give me a sec—”

  “I’ll let you stare at my hus—Hayden for an extra-long time if you make it snappy.”

  I bite back a laugh.

  The waitress looks confused.

  “She’s feeling the effects of the first drink,” I explain.

  “Yeah, new bartender. Adding more liquor than what we’re charging. Thanks for letting me know.” She winks at me.

  “Hey. I didn’t say you could do that.”

  I place my hand over hers. “It’s not a big deal.”

  “But I’m not my mom,” she repeats. “I can’t make men fall head over feet for me and write songs about our love story.”

  An odd comment to make, even for Saylor. “I have no idea who your mom is, so I’ll take your word on that.”

  She makes a noise of disbelief. “Everyone knows who my mom is. Queen Elizabeth knows who my mom is.”

  “I’m sure she’s very lovely.”

  Saylor is shaking her head so hard that her ponytail has come loose. “She’s not lovely. She’s glamorous and gorgeous and…perfect.”

  “Still don’t have a clue.”

  “I’ll give you three guesses.”

  “Okay.”

  “Taylor Reynolds.” She whips out her phone and holds it out to me. “Look at my texts from her. There are pictures of us and everything, but don’t let anyone else see.”

  “The Taylor Reynolds?” As in the same woman who posed nude on the cover of Vogue and didn’t bother to cover up anything? The same woman who starred in major summer blockbusters that always had her running in nearly see-through tank tops?

  “Yup.” She fixes her glasses while I scroll through a series of texts. Sure enough, there are a couple of love you, kiddos and can’t wait to see my baby girl mixed in with images of Saylor with Taylor.

  Oh shit. I used to have posters of her mother on my wall. “Wow.”

  “You had posters of her, didn’t you?”

  I wince a little. “When I was in high school.”

  “Maybe that’s why I’m your type.”

  Oh hell no. This conversation is not going in that direction. “The two of you look nothing alike.”

  “Well, that’s rude.”

  Another drink lands at our table, courtesy of a drink runner, and Saylor grabs it, chugging it down.

  “Is there a reason why you feel a need to drink so much?”

  She holds up a finger while nodding. Once she’s finished, she wipes the back of her hand over her mouth and says, “I have to tell you a secret.”

  “About your mom?”

  “No, silly.” With a sweet smile, she tilts her head to one side. “You’re really nice and sexy. And a good kisser.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Now you tell me I’m a good kisser.” She looks so forlorn that I can’t sit across from her one second longer. I stand up and her eyes widen. “Don’t leave. You don’t have to tell me anything.”

  “I’m not leaving, sweetheart, and you are in fact a phenomenal kisser.”

  She sighs dreamily. “I knew it.”

  With a chuckle, I scoot her over and sit down next to her, loosely wrapping an arm around her shoulder. “You can lay your head on me if you want.”

  “Because I’m drunk.”

  “Yeah, and I’m starving.” Finally the plate of nachos is delivered and I dig in, offering Saylor bites as I eat. “More?”

  “I’m getting full.” She turns her head, her lips catching my ear. “I’ve had too much to drink.”

  “Want me to drive you home or will you Uber?”

  “You-ber,” she says. “I’m so tired. At least I have the day off tomorrow.”

  I pay our bill and help Saylor to her feet. “Did you or Evangeline drive here?”

  “We walked!”

  Normally, I’d walk to Saylor’s apartment complex. I’ve done exactly that in the past when the guys and I had more to drink than I felt comfortable with getting behind the wheel.

  “I think you’re too tired to walk. How about I drive you home, okay?”

  “How much gas money do I owe you?” She reaches for her purse, but I stop her.

  “You owe me nothing.”

  “Once I went out on a date with a guy who drove for Uber. So when I booked our driver for the night, it turned out to be him. So not only did I pay for the date. I paid for our transportation.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “Is Han Solo Kylo Ren’s father?” she asks as we walk to my Escalade.

  “What kind of asshole—”

  She touches my face, the tips of her fingers on my cheek. “The kind who I used to think was my type.”

  “But not anymore.” I open the passenger door and help her inside, taking the time to make sure her seatbelt is secure. “No more dates with guys like that.”

  “I won’t. I can’t anyway.”

  “Why?”

  “ ’Cause I’m not that kind of girl.”

  I don’t even know how to answer that. I shut the door carefully, then stride to the driver’s side and get in. Barely five minutes later, I’m pulling into Rose Haven. “Where do you normally park?”

  “In the parking lot.” She gives me a full-on grin. “I have a guest spot beside my Jeep.”

  While Saylor is buzzed, she’s not falling-down drunk, which makes it easier to walk with her up the stairs to her place.

  Fumbling around in her purse for her keys, she finally produces them. She unlocks the door on her first try and I follow her inside. A cat rushes us both.

  “Shut the door,” Saylor shouts, and I kick it close. The cat tries to backpedal but ends up bumping into the door anyway.

  “Sorry.”

  Saylor purses her lips. “Not your fault. Empress Padme is in full royal brat mode tonight. She was mad at me for going out.”

  “Guess she’ll really play the quiet game with you tomorrow.”

  A pleased smile kicks up the corners of her lush mouth. “You actually listened to what I said.”

  “Firefighters make the best listeners.” As do politicians’ sons, but since she doesn’t seem to know that about me, or know enough to mention it, I don’t educate her on my background.

  She plops down on her sofa, tugging at her Converses until they come off, and she falls back with a giggle. “Will you help me to bed?” She blinks and then squeezes her eyes shut tigh
t. “My body’s spinning.”

  In an instant, I’m at her side, holding on to her curvy frame while we move to her bedroom. Along the way, she drops her purse, her phone, her keys, and Padme attempts to trip me.

  Finally, we’re in her bedroom, but Saylor breaks away from me, dashing to the bathroom and closing the door behind her. I listen, but when all I hear is the sound of the toilet flushing and the sink running, I stop worrying about her getting sick.

  When she emerges from the bathroom, the only thing she has on is a pair of Wonder Woman panties. Her tits bounce as she walks, pink nipples peaking in the cool air.

  My body gets hard; my cock makes its presence known as well.

  “Help me to bed,” she orders, falling against me.

  With every ounce of self-control, I force my gaze to stay on the bed while she hangs on to me. With each step, the soft skin of her firm tits brushes against my bare arm.

  What should take only seconds seems to take days. Hours. Centuries.

  Finally, her legs hit the mattress and down she goes, hanging on to me so tight that I fall right along with her. She giggles and finds my mouth with hers, kissing me eagerly while I respond in kind.

  Until my conscience kicks in.

  “We have to stop, beautiful. You’re drunk and I’m not so sure you’d want to do this if you were sober.”

  She sticks out her lower lip. “It’s not my first time, this time.”

  “At no time will I have drunk sex with you,” I insist.

  Her eyes get all teary. “What if I have drunk sex with you?”

  “That’s different.”

  “How so?” She rises up on her elbows. A lock of hair curls around one perfect, large breast while the pale stream of moonlight entering in through the blinds highlights the other.

  “It just is.”

  “What if I have drunk sex with you while I’m buzzed, too.”

  “Then we’re having equally drunk sex, but I’m not lit. I wouldn’t have driven us home otherwise.”

  “Okay.” Her lashes flutter closed, and I work the multitude of blankets out from under her and pull them to her pretty shoulders.

  Padme leaps on the bed.

  I stare pointedly at Padme. “Take care of her.”

  The cat sniffs at me, then meows once. I take that as a good sign.