Love Resurrected (Love in San Soloman Book 5)

by Denise Wells

  Or at least I had that moment.

  I need Sadie.

  I can’t have Sadie. The baby and Ethan have Sadie.

  I get up and make coffee, then pace around my house for a while, trying to talk myself into being okay with all this Brad wishy-washiness.

  He came back last night, about twenty minutes after he’d dropped me off. I wasn’t in bed yet. Hadn’t even changed out of my clothes. Instead, I’d been sitting in my living room, looking out the picture window at the lights of San Soloman below, trying to get a handle on how I felt about two public, and rushed, encounters with this man. Thinking to myself, why can’t he just have sex in a bed?

  Maybe it was just me he couldn’t have sex in a bed with.

  Or maybe having sex in a bed was too much commitment, and I’m just a cum receptacle.

  I’d laughed at myself.

  Until he came back, and we had sex in a bed. In fact, that was even the line he used when I’d answered the door.

  “Want to try this in a bed? And take more than five minutes to do it?”

  I’d nodded, and next thing I knew, his lips were on mine and he was walking me backwards into my bedroom. A few hours of mind-blowing, soul-shifting sex later, and now here I am. And once again, he’s gone.

  I definitely need Sadie.

  I set my kitchen timer for ninety minutes, making myself wait that long to reach out to her. Reminding the needy part of me she’s still at the hospital, just out of surgery, the baby was in danger—she has her own shit to worry about. And I decide to distract myself by bleaching the grout lines of my bathroom counter. By hand. With bleach and a toothbrush.

  The moment the timer dings, I text Ethan to see if she’s awake and can talk. I feel selfish and petty wanting her attention at a time like this. But I do.

  She’s my person.

  I don’t have anybody else.

  Instead of getting a text back from Ethan, I get a video call from Sadie.

  Thank god.

  “Hey!” I answer.

  “Hey, you, sorry yesterday was so crazy rushed, but I have someone here who wants to say hi to you.” She moves the camera angle to her chest where I see baby Audrey sleeping.

  “Ohmigod, Sadie, she’s so beautiful!” I whisper.

  “I know, right? Especially for a newborn. That’s got to be those Ethan Stone genes at work, because I was one hell of an ugly baby.”

  “Stop, you’re gorgeous. And I’ve seen pictures, you were a perfectly fine-looking baby.”

  She was an ugly baby, but I don’t want to admit that right now. I also can’t lie to her, so perfectly fine-looking it is.

  “Ha,” she responds. “You said perfectly fine-looking. You totally agree, you just won’t admit it.”

  She’s right.

  “Can I be selfish and steal your attention for a few minutes?”

  “That’s not selfish, and of course you can. Ethan left to go get coffee when you texted, so we could have girl time.”

  “I love that man.”

  “Me too.” She smiles big and looks so vibrant and happy. It’s hard to believe that less than a day ago, I was afraid of losing her forever.

  “Brad and I had sex again last night,” I whisper.

  “Why are you whispering?”

  “I don’t want to wake the baby. I also don’t want her to hear about sex.”

  Sadie laughs. “It’s fine. So far, she sleeps like the dead. And we haven’t had the birds and the bees talk yet, so she has no clue about S-E-X.”

  She winks at me and a flood of reassurance rushes through me as I realize she’s still my Sadie. I just have to share her with a couple other people.

  “So, was it good?” she asks.

  “God, yes. Every time.”

  “Every time? As in, more than once?”

  I tell her about the truck and the drive home. Then about what I was thinking after he dropped me off. And finally, that he came back.

  “Three more times at my house. And, Sadie, my god, it was, like, explosive. I lost track of how many times I came. He was like a machine, pistoning in and out of me with such speed and precision, all I could do was try to hang on and enjoy the ride. Doggy style, missionary, reverse cowgirl, cowgirl, tabletop, shoulder holder—”

  “What’s shoulder holder?”

  “You know, when your ankles are up on his shoulders?”

  “Oh, yeah.” She sighs. “I like that one.”

  “Yeah, me too.” I half-laugh. “He was . . . it was . . . I have no words. I’m not sure he’s human. That said, I’m not sure I can ever return to having sex with mere humans again.” I sigh.

  “Wow.”

  “Yeah. He was like the energizer penis and I was his receptacle of love.”

  She snort-laughs. “Receptacle of love?”

  “It sounded better in my head.” I laugh.

  “So, what are you going to do?”

  “I don’t know,” I say. “I thought about calling him. But I don’t want to chase him. And not in that oh, girls can’t make the first move bullshit way. But, more like he needs to figure out what the fuck he wants, and I don’t want to make it easy on him kind of way.”

  “Give him time, Ten,” a deep voice says from beyond the screen.

  My eyes close and my face heats.

  “Ethan?” I ask.

  “Sorry,” Sadie says. “He came back in with coffee when you were mid-story. I didn’t want to interrupt you.”

  It pissed me off Ethan heard whatever he did, especially when Brad is his best friend. But part of me knows this is how it is now. Ethan is a part of Sadie is a part of Ethan, right? There is no telling her without telling him.

  “Hey, E? Can we keep this between us? Cone of silence?”

  He comes into view as Sadie turns the camera toward him. “I hear nothing. I say nothing. Think of me as the Chinese Wall between you two and Brad.”

  “Thank you.”

  He winks, and the camera turns back to Sadie and the baby.

  “So,” I say to Sadie.

  “Did you text him?” she asks.

  I shake my head.

  “Have you talked to him?” she asks Ethan.

  “Uh, Chinese Wall works both ways, gorgeous.” I hear him reply. Sadie rolls her eyes at that.

  “Maybe Ethan is right, and you just need to give him time.”

  “Is it wrong that I just want to be out of limbo? Either know that there’s nothing that will happen between us and let it die. Or move forward.”

  “Nothing wrong with that at all. I would feel the same way.”

  “Thanks, Sadie-Sue.”

  “Love you, Ten.”

  “Love you more.” I disconnect the call and resume pacing and talking to myself. I’m on the proverbial ledge, and now one of two things need to happen. Either I take control and decide. Or he does.

  Somehow that conclusion doesn’t seem helpful at all.

  34

  Brad

  I did it to her again. I took off on Tenley after sex. I couldn’t help it. I tried to go to sleep after. I tried to relax. I tried to listen to all the voices in my head approving my decision. Hold her in my arms, do that thing couples do. Not that we’re a couple. I don’t think. But, I couldn’t. So, I left, and drove straight to Remi’s. When she started to become my voice of reason, I’ll never know. But somehow, she’s the one I feel most comfortable talking about this with. Maybe because she understands the guilt of living after Kat’s passing.

  “Just so you know—” Remi sets down two cups of coffee and takes a seat across from me at her kitchen table—“you’re probably the only person I would let interrupt my new-found me-time.”

  “It is quiet. Where’s the brood?”

  “Breakfast with Daddy. It’s a new thing they all do together on Chance’s mornings off, and I love it.” She smiles.

  I take a deep breath and jump right in. “I had sex.”

  Remi looks at me, her face blank. She takes a slow sip of her coffee, then
surprises me by saying, “Anyone I know?”

  “Tenley.”

  “Last night?”

  “And a few nights ago as well. That time was just the once. In the bathroom at The Crazy Burro. Then last night in my truck. And a few times again at her house.”

  She nods her head, but stays silent, not meeting my gaze. I wonder if I made a mistake in coming here. Maybe she doesn’t understand.

  “You okay?” she finally asks.

  “No. That’s why I’m here.”

  She nods. Again.

  This is stupid. I push my chair back and stand. “I’m going to go. I’m sorry I ruined your ‘me-time.’”

  “What? No. Why? Sit down.” Her voice is harsh and firm. “I’m just thinking.”

  I sit, somehow feeling reprimanded.

  “I think it’s good that you are trying to move on. It’s what Kat wanted.”

  “But?”

  “No but, just that.”

  “There’s a but in your tone, Remi.”

  “There’s not.”

  I stare at her.

  “Fine. There is,” she concedes. “But I don’t know why, so I can’t be expected to explain it to you.”

  She picks at something stuck on the tabletop and mumbles, “The cleaning lady sucks at wiping down the table.”

  I wait, hoping she’ll explain what she’s feeling since I’m thinking that holds the answer to this entire dilemma.

  “I love you like a brother. You know that. Kat was my soul-sister. And by that, I mean she’s part of my fucking soul. I’ve never been a girl person, but something about that broad just clicked with me and I’ve never felt so close, so connected, with another person. Not even Chance.” She tears up while I try not to. “I miss her every fucking day, Brad.”

  “Me too.”

  “I want you to be happy. I want that for you and for Kat. It’s what she wanted, so it’s what I want. Out of respect and love for her memory. But I have to admit, there’s a part of me that feels cheated.” She sniffles and wipes at her nose with her hand. “God, can I use the word want any more in a sentence?” Then she grabs a tissue to dab at her eyes. “You get to move on with a new Kat. You know, a new partner. But I don’t get a new best friend. I don’t get a replacement Kat. Tenley won’t fill that role, that void, for me like she will you. And I’m jealous. And pissed. I’m sorry, but I am.”

  I can’t explain why, but a huge part of me feels relieved when she says that.

  “I get it.”

  “How can you possibly get it?” She sobs, blowing her nose.

  “I don’t know, but I do. I would feel the same way.”

  She pulls the tissue from her face, her nose bright red. “Really?”

  “Yeah.” I don’t know how this got to be about her and not me, but it did. And I think I’m okay with that. Remi excuses herself to fix her makeup.

  “Was it good?” she calls back to me as she walks through the kitchen to a mirror. I think back to last night. Not so much about the emotion I felt, ’cause I’m overthinking that to death, but the lasciviousness of it all.

  My mouth was on hers, our tongues dueling for control. I wasn’t nice about the kissing, but she met me stroke for stroke.

  “Not gonna be gentle,” I mumbled against her mouth.

  “I don’t want gentle.”

  My dick jumped at that. “Not going to be slow either.”

  She smiled wickedly. “What are you waiting for?”

  I lifted her by the ass and pulled her against me, and she wrapped her long legs around my waist. “Last door on the left.”

  We made it to her room, and I literally tossed her onto the bed. “Strip.”

  I watched as she scrambled to her knees and unzipped the one-piece thing she was wearing. Her bra underneath was all lace and pale pink, her nipples straining to break free. I undid my pants and let them fall open, reached in to grab my cock, and stroked it.

  “Bra.”

  She reached behind her and unhooked it, then lowered her arms. Both the bra and the top of her outfit fell to her waist, revealing a soft stomach and full breasts with hardened peaks. She reached up and pinched them, moaning softly. A groan escaped me despite myself.

  I pushed at her chest, knocking her back against the bed, and pulled at her clothes until she was lying bare before me. Her hair was tousled, cheeks flushed, chest heaving. She was fucking sublime.

  “On your hands and knees.”

  She immediately assumed the position, ass high in the air, forearms against the mattress, head hanging low. I grabbed her by the hips and pulled her back to the edge of the bed.

  “Wait!” she cried as she scrambled back to the head of the bed and rummaged through the nightstand drawer, returning with a strip of condoms.

  Thank god, because I was gonna go bare. Again. Don’t know what the fuck my problem is.

  I rolled the condom on, lined my cock up, and plunged all the way in.

  No warning.

  No foreplay.

  She cried out and threw her head back. I wrapped my hand in her hair to hold it there and I slammed into her again and again. And again. So tight. So wet. As I thrusted forward, she pushed back, in perfect symmetry.

  It was fucking heaven.

  “Ohmigod, I’m going to come.” She cried out my name as she spasmed around my cock, which was all it took for me to lose it. I pumped everything I had into her. It felt amazing, her muscles milking me dry as the condom filled.

  She collapsed to the bed and I fell with her, covering her back with my chest. I’d removed my shirt, but my pants were still around my hips. I couldn’t catch my breath. Not for minutes after. My head was spinning. The only way to describe it was explosive.

  And my dick was still hard after. I had to fuck her twice more before I finally felt satiated. She came so many times the sheets beneath her were wet. And when I returned from the bathroom, having disposed of the final condom, she lay there, spread eagle across her bed, her body still and limp. I’d watched her for a minute before crawling in next to her. By the time I did, she was asleep.

  “Yeah, it was,” I tell Remi. “It was really fucking good.”

  She rejoins me at the table. “Then you take that, Brad. You take that and you keep that for you. Because you deserve to be happy. We all do. Life is too short not to be. Kat wanted this for you. So, give it to her. Love her enough to be happy again.”

  Love her enough to be happy again.

  I let that sink in.

  Then I give Remi a kiss on the cheek and thank her. “Enjoy the rest of your me time,” I call out as I exit through the front door. I know exactly where I have to go and what I have to do.

  35

  Tenley

  I plan to spend the day working on the recruitment fair—which, given everything that has happened with Brad, I’d almost forgotten about. I text Nessa with a few things and she asks if I’d like to meet and work on some things together.

  ME: Could we make it just the two of us? Or is that weird?

  Because I’m a great big chicken who doesn’t want to see Brad after he bailed on me. Again.

  NESSA: Sure. I don’t think there’s anything imminent that needs the attention of all three of us. And let’s face it, you and I get most of the things done, anyway.

  She adds a smiley face emoticon after that.

  ME: LOL. Agreed.

  We plan to meet at a coffee shop in between where we each live. I’m a bit nervous to see Nessa, just because of her connection with Brad, which I know is juvenile. Like I’m seeing him somehow by seeing her.

  Lame.

  Regardless, I take more care than normal with my appearance.

  Nessa is already there when I arrive. We hug in greeting and take our seats.

  “So, any reason you wanted to meet, just the two of us?” she asks.

  “No.” I shake my head to further prove my point, then smile.

  She looks at me, head cocked to the side. I avoid her gaze, because I think if I lo
ok at her, I’ll blurt out everything that’s happened in the last twenty-four hours, and I don’t want her thinking I’m an idiot for developing feelings for a guy who can’t handle a relationship. Not even a relationship, but sex. He can’t handle sex. I’m just not sure if that’s worse or not.

  Instead, I open my mouth and ask, “How long did it take you to move on after your husband passed?”

  She looks at me, blinking.

  “I’m sorry. Is that too personal? Of course it is. I don’t need to know. I’m sorry that I asked.”

  “Are you asking for me or wondering about Bradley?”

  I hate how transparent I am. Like really hate it. Especially now, when I’m not even asking after Nessa’s well-being, I’m just trying to get the skinny on Brad. I’m, like, the lowest of the low.

  “For real, forget I asked.”

  “Did something happen?”

  “Nope.”

  She looks at me. I look at her.

  Fuck.

  “Brad and I had sex again. And this time, I felt something. Like a connection or a breakthrough or feelings, I don’t know how to describe it. But then he left while I was asleep. No note or anything.”

  “So, this was at your house?”

  “Yes. Well, first it was in the cab of his truck. Then he dropped me off and left. Then he came back. And we . . . you know . . . and then he left while I was sleeping.”

  “He came back?”

  I nod, a grim smile on my face.

  “I don’t claim to know everything about moving on after the death of a spouse—”

  “They weren’t married.”

  “I know. But, Tenley, don’t kid yourself with that just because there wasn’t a ceremony. For all intents and purposes, they were married.”

  My heart sinks to my stomach and I look to my lap. This conversation is not going how I wanted it to. How did I get so caught up in this so quickly? I don’t even want a relationship. I don’t believe in marriage. Why is it so important to me to that something happen with Brad? It’s not just the sex. I’ve had sex with plenty of guys I wasn’t attached to and didn’t get attached to.