Down to You

by M. Leighton

  But then, as it so often does at the most inopportune times, reality intrudes. And I think of Marissa.

  “Look, Cash, I understand why you’ve done what you’ve done and how important it is, but I can’t pretend now that you aren’t Nash. That when Nash is sleeping with Marissa, it’s not you. Because it is. And it always has been.”

  Cash reaches for my hands and pulls me into the space between his spread legs. When he looks up at me, his dark eyes are sparkling. My breath hitches in my chest.

  “I broke up with Marissa on Wednesday.”

  I ignore the fact that my heart feels like a balloon that someone filled up and then let go before tying it off, like it’s soaring around the room at the speed of light. “You did?”

  “I did.”

  I’m almost afraid to ask. But I do. “Why?”

  “Because she’s not the one I want to be with.”

  “But you work with her father.”

  “I already talked to him, too.”

  “You did?”

  He laughs. “Yes. I’m done with all that…stuff. I can’t really tell people that Nash is dead, but I don’t have to continue on the same path. I’m letting Dad’s case go. Moving on. I’ll finish my internship and then decide what to do, whether I want to practice, where and how. I’m not letting the past rule my future anymore.”

  While I appreciate what he’s saying, something bothers me. “But he’s your only family. And he’s in prison. If you can get him out, if there’s any chance at all, don’t you think you should still try?”

  He looks down at our joined hands. He rubs his thumbs over my knuckles. “I haven’t felt like I’ve had a real home in years.” Cash pauses and looks up, his eyes meeting mine. They are warm. They are sweet. They are sincere. “Until I met you. You feel like home. And that’s more important than anything else. You’re my home now. You’re what matters.”

  I want to kiss him. And hold him. And tell him I love him.

  Do I love him?

  The answer comes quickly.

  Yes. I do.

  But he hasn’t said those words to me. So I don’t say them to him. But I feel them.

  “But if there’s something you can do to help him, I want you to try. Don’t abandon him because of me. I’ll help you however I can. I’m not afraid.” It’s just as I speak the words that I realize I’m not. I’m not afraid. And it’s because of Cash. And what I see in his eyes. “I know you won’t put me in danger. Not on purpose.” I tug one of my hands loose and trace his strong, square jaw with my fingertips. “I trust you, Cash. I trust you.”

  He grabs my wrist and presses his lips to the inside then pulls gently until I’m bent at the waist and my face is close to his.

  “Come home with me. Please.” I can feel his warm breath on my lips, they’re so close. I lean forward to close the small gap, but he leans away. “Please,” he repeats softly.

  I would never tell him, but he could ask me anything right now and I’d agree to it. Anything at all.

  “Okay.” As soon as the words leave my lips, his mouth is on mine.

  His hands are hungry and urgent as he grabs me around the waist and turns to lay me on the bed. We undress each other as though we’ve never made love, as though this is the first time and we can’t wait one more second to feel skin on skin.

  When he enters me, my whole world collapses. It melts and covers us as he moves within me, like a perfect crystalline cocoon. And when we are both satisfied and breathing heavily, Cash lays his forehead against mine and whispers, “Home.”

  I think to myself that this is the very moment when I’m lost. Lost to Cash. Forever.

  CHAPTER FORTY- Cash

  As I straighten up my apartment, I can’t help but recognize that I’ve probably never felt more positive about life. Even before the “accident” I didn’t feel so good about the future. So optimistic. So…enthused.

  And the difference?

  Olivia.

  I smile and shake my head as I think of her. She wanted to take a shower and clean up before she packed and headed over here. She suggested I go ahead. I’m not really surprised, I don’t guess. I know how girls are, what with their need for grooming time and personal space. So I kissed her and left. The strange thing is, I had to make myself leave rather than join her in the shower. I don’t know what it is about her, but I can’t seem to get enough. Even when I’ve had enough, I want more.

  When my phone rings, I pull it out and check the screen. It says simply, “Olivia.” I smile wider.

  “You’re supposed to be over here by now. What’s taking you so long?”

  There’s a pause before she speaks. When she does, I hear her shy voice. “Um, I don’t know what kind of, um, plans you have for us tonight. Should I bring work clothes for tonight and tomorrow night? Or…?”

  “You haven’t met him yet, but I have a guy that helps manage the bar. His name is Gavin and I already had him rework the schedule to cover your shifts this weekend. Why don’t you just take the time off and spend it with me?”

  She laughs a little and when she answers, I can hear the smile in her voice. “I’d love to spend the weekend with you doing…whatever, but I really can’t afford to miss much more time.”

  I’m smart enough and an astute enough observer of women to know offering her money would be a huge mistake. So, to keep the peace, I do what I need to. “Well, then just plan to work tomorrow night. Will that be enough, since you worked last night at Tad’s?”

  “Yeah, I think that’ll be fine.”

  “All right then. Get your ass over here.”

  “On my way,” she chirps then the line goes dead.

  I wonder if I’ll ever stop smiling and, if I can’t, what kind of excuse I’ll have to make up to explain it. Or if I’ll even bother. Because at the moment, I just don’t give a shit. I’m happy. She’s happy. That’s all that matters.

  CHAPTER FORTY-ONE- Olivia

  Cash didn’t say where to park, so I stick with the lot out front, just to be safe. I’ll probably need to move it later, so as not to announce to everyone I’m getting preferential treatment because I’m screwing the boss.

  I can’t help but grin. That sounds so trashy, but I just don’t care. I refuse to let anything or anyone ruin this happy time of my life. Happy times come by so infrequently, I’m determined to enjoy them as much as I can, while I can.

  Retrieving my bag and purse from the back seat, I lock the doors and head around the side entrance to the apartment. Butterflies are alive and well in my stomach, which is kind of ridiculous considering that I’ve had sex with Cash well over a dozen times. But still…

  The garage door is open as I approach. So is the interior door. And Cash is standing just inside it, smiling. He stops me from entering and takes my bag and purse from me, setting them on the floor behind him. Then, with a wicked grin, he sweeps me up into his arms and carries me inside, kicking the door shut with his heel.

  “I’m supposed to carry you over the threshold, right?”

  I laugh. “If that’s what you’re doing, I must’ve slept through something important,” I say dryly.

  He quirks one eyebrow and shoots me a cocky grin. “Oh trust me, I won’t let you sleep through any of the good stuff.”

  I wrap my arms more tightly around his neck and he bends his head to kiss me. When his lips meet mine, there is fire, just like always. But there’s something else, too. Something deeper, sweeter. More meaningful. It makes my heart sing like his kiss makes my toes curl.

  He carries me into the bedroom and lays me down on the bed. He starts to lie down beside me, but I stop him. This time is different. It feels different. And I want to start things off with a bang. Pun intended.

  I come up onto my knees and move to the edge of the bed. Smiling up into his eyes, I don’t say a word. I just set about untucking his shirt. Just like I was doing the first time we met. It takes only a few seconds for understanding to dawn on him. And I know the instant it does. His lip
s twitch and his brow rises, much like that first night, and he spreads his arms out, away from his body, also much like he did that first night.

  I giggle as I stand up on the bed to peel his shirt off him and toss it aside. I can’t think of a more perfect way to start this new leg of our relationship. It’s almost like we’ve come full circle and we’re getting another chance. And if that’s the case, I plan to make the most of it.

  Dropping back onto my knees, I place my mouth over one flat nipple, flicking it with my tongue until it forms a tight bud, then sucking it into my mouth. I hear him gasp.

  “Even then, I knew you’d be a handful.”

  I look up at him as I drag my lips down his stomach. My fingers are already working his zipper loose.

  “Baby, you have no idea.”

  I know by his smile that he’s happy. And that’s all that matters.

  ********

  Nearly an hour later, Cash is resting on top of me, his weight braced on his forearms. We’ve been lying like this for several minutes, just enjoying the feel of him softening inside me, the feel of his skin against mine, the feel of the world so quiet around us.

  When Cash lifts his head and looks down into my eyes, there’s a wealth of emotion in the dazzling depths, so much so that it brings tears to my eyes. I think of what he told me earlier and I smile up at him. Cupping his handsome face, I whisper against his lips, “Welcome home.”

  When he kisses me, I know we’re both where we belong.

  EPILOGUE- Duffy

  The lock was too easy to pick. Duffy thinks it’s funny that rich people think they’re safe, think they’re protected against any intruders as long as they’ve got a security system. He actually laughs out loud before he shushes himself.

  If they only knew….

  Making his way through the darkened rooms, Duffy finds what he’s looking for—her bedroom.

  Duffy will be making a call to the landlord at midnight, complaining of a television being left on too loud. In this apartment. He’ll demand that the tenant be notified and ordered to reduce the noise. She’ll come home to take care of it and Duffy will be waiting for her. With his van parked outside.

  Duffy is nothing if not patient. He’ll see a good plan through to the bitter end. And theirs is a good plan. They only need her long enough to get the books. And then Duffy can get rid of them both. Easy peasy.

  Moving to the space behind her bedroom door, Duffy dials the landlord’s number to make the false report. When he hangs up, he calls his boss.

  “Yeah, I’ll bring her tonight. I’ll have you the books by sunrise. Then I’ll get rid of them both.”

  Flipping his ancient cell phone shut and stuffing it in his pocket, Duffy settles in to wait.

  For Olivia Townsend.

  TO BE CONTINUED

  A FINAL WORD

  A few times in life, I’ve found myself in a position of such love and gratitude that saying THANK YOU seems trite, like it’s just not enough. That is the position that I find myself in now when it comes to you, my readers. You are the sole reason that my dream of being a writer has come true. I knew that it would be gratifying and wonderful to finally have a job that I loved so much, but I had no idea that it would be outweighed and outshined by the unimaginable pleasure that I get from hearing that you love my work, that it’s touched you in some way or that your life seems a little bit better for having read it. So it is from the depths of my soul, from the very bottom of my heart that I say I simply cannot THANK YOU enough. I’ve added this note to all my stories with the link to a blog post that I really hope you’ll take a minute to read. It is a true and sincere expression of my humble appreciation. I love each and every one of you and you’ll never know what your many encouraging posts, comments and e-mails have meant to me.

  http://mleightonbooks.blogspot.com/2011/06/when-thanks-is-not-enough.html

  Other books by M. Leighton

  Beginnings: An M. Leighton Anthology

  Blood Like Poison: For the Love of a Vampire

  Blood Like Poison: Destined for a Vampire

  Blood Like Poison: To Kill an Angel

  Caterpillar

  Fragile

  Gravity

  Madly

  Madly & the Jackal

  Madly & Wolfhardt

  The Reaping

  The Reckoning

  The Wild Ones

  Wiccan

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  STAY TUNED

  to read an excerpt from my

  New York Times Bestselling Novel,

  The Wild Ones

  as well as an excerpt from

  Courtney Cole’s

  Of Blood and Bone

  The Wild Ones

  Passion as hot as midnight in the South and love as wild as the horses they tame.

  Camille “Cami” Hines is the darling daughter of the South’s champion thoroughbred breeder, Jack Hines. She has a pedigree that rivals some of her father’s best horses. Other than feeling a little suffocated at times, Cami thought she was pretty happy with her boyfriend, her life and her future.

  But that was before she met Patrick Henley.

  “Trick” blurs the lines between what Cami wants and what is expected of her. He’s considered the “help,” which is forbidden fruit as far as her father is concerned, not to mention that Trick would be fired if he ever laid a hand on her. And Trick needs his job. Desperately. His family depends on him.

  The heart wants what the heart wants, though, and Trick and Cami are drawn to each other despite the obstacles. At least the ones they know of.

  When Trick stumbles upon a note from his father, it triggers a series of revelations that could ruin what he and Cami have worked so hard to overcome. It turns out there’s more to Trick’s presence at the ranch than either of them knew, secrets that could tear them apart.

  CHAPTER ONE- Cami

  Sipping my beer, I look around at the familiar scene. If the honky tonk music blaring from the speakers in the ceiling hadn’t been enough to scream COUNTRY BAR, the sea of cowboy hats would have been. I smile as I adjust the black one that sits atop my own head. I love being incognito. Even if, by chance, someone I know stumbles into the smoke-filled dive, they’d never believe it was me looking out from beneath the brim.

  Something hits the back of my barstool—hard—just as I put the glass to my lips. Ice cold beer pours down my chin and straight into my cleavage. I suck in a breath.

  “’Scuse me,” a deep voice rumbles in my ear. Two hands grip my upper arms and pull me back, keeping me from tipping right out of my seat. I’m looking down at my soggy jeans and t-shirt when I feel the hands disappear. Half a second later, a face appears in my line of sight. “I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”

  My fingers stop plucking wet cotton away from my chest and I stare. Quite rudely, I might add. I’m speechless. Literally. And that, like, never happens to me.

  The most amazing eyes I’ve ever seen are staring back at me. They are pale greenish-gray, rimmed in sooty lashes and filled with concern.

  A sharp jab to my shin makes me let out the breath I hadn’t been aware of holding. I see my best friend Jenna’s head poke out from behind the mystery face. I know she kicked me and I know she’s trying to get my attention, but I can’t look away from these eyes long enough to glare at her.

  God, his eyes! I’ve never seen eyes that make me want to gasp and giggle and do a strip tease all at once. But these do.

  They flicker down, letting me go just long enough to collect my wits. I find very few of them. They are well and truly scattered. When he looks back up at me, his eyes are wrinkled at the corners. He’s smiling. And holy hell, what a smile it is!

  “Does it make me a bad person for liking your shirt better thi
s way?”

  I glance down at myself. My dark pink bra is plainly visible through the now-wet paper thin material of my pale pink shirt. So are my very erect nipples. I blush, mortified.

  Why, oh why did I wear a light pink t-shirt with a dark pink bra?

  Because you can’t see your bra through it when it’s dry, dumb ass.

  A thumb brushes my right cheek. “God, that’s sexy,” he whispers. Against my will, my eyes fly to his face. His smile has died to a lopsided grin that is devastation in its purest form. “I’ve never made a girl blush before.”

  I laugh nervously, struggling to find my voice, to find my dignity. “Somehow I doubt that,” I say softly.

  “Wow! The hair of a devil, the face of an angel and the voice of a phone sex operator. You really are the perfect woman.”

  To my utter humiliation, my cheeks burn even hotter. Curse my fair skin!

  Reaching into his pocket, Hot Stranger pulls out a couple bills and slides them across the bar. “Another of whatever…” He trails off, looking at me in question, waiting for me to fill in the blank.

  “Cami,” I say, trying to hold back my grin.

  Smooth way of getting my name. Chalk one up for Hot Stranger.

  “Another of whatever Cami is having.” He turns back to me, a wicked gleam in his smoky eyes. “Sorry about your drink. Not so much about your shirt, though,” he admits candidly.

  Willing myself not to blush again, I tilt my head. “So, do clumsy strangers have names in this place? Or are you just called ‘bull in china shop’?”

  The lopsided grin comes back. “Patrick, but my friends call me Trick.”

  “Trick? As in trick or treat? That kind of trick?”