by Lili Valente
Any argument, even when I’m completely innocent.
And I’m not innocent right now. I have a pretty good idea who Laura was texting, and I can guess a few things he might have said that would have royally pissed her off.
Which means the best thing to do is confess now and worry later that this isn’t the most romantic way to convince Laura I won’t fuck up a second chance.
“I texted Justin this morning,” I say, turning to face her. “I asked him for some recommendations on where to stay this weekend. I told him we were together, and that I wanted the hotel to be something special.”
Laura crosses her arms and glares, but she doesn’t look surprised. “Yeah, that’s what Libby said.”
Not Justin, then. Libby. Not that it matters. It doesn’t matter who told her, only that she clearly isn’t happy about it.
“I would ask what the hell you’re thinking,” Laura continues, her cheeks flushing. “But I think I know, and I think it sucks.”
I shake my head. “Listen, that’s not—”
“I mean, maybe I’m wrong.” Her eyes roll skyward as her breath huffs out. “I really hope I’m wrong. Because if this is what I think it is, then I’m done, Brendan. You can take your ‘friendship’ and go fuck yourself, because I can’t do this anymore. I can’t—”
“I thought you were in love with Justin,” I blurt out, not knowing what else to say to stop this before things are messed up beyond repair.
She pauses, her frown still firmly in place. “What?”
“I thought you had a thing for Justin. And that he had a thing for you.” I force myself to keep going as Laura’s features twist into an incredulous expression. “I figured it was only a matter of time before you two stopped being friends who flirt and started being something more, and I—”
“Justin and I do not flirt!” A sharp laugh bursts from her lips. “We have never flirted, not a single day in our lives. Honestly, the thought is nauseating. I’d rather flirt with Coach Swindle, and he smells like Circus Peanuts and is old enough to be my father.”
“Yeah, I get that now, but…” I shrug. “I didn’t at the time. And I didn’t want to be your second choice or the fill-in guy or whatever. So I told you my life was complicated and…I left.”
She cocks her head, her brow wrinkling again as her gaze searches mine. “Are you serious?”
“Yes, I’m serious. Clearly, it became obvious that I’d misread the situation, but…”
“Around the time Justin started dating my sister, maybe?”
“Around the time he started dating Libby and you clearly weren’t upset about it. But by then it had been months since the beach, and we were doing the friends thing, and you didn’t seem to like me much, so…” I sigh. “I thought it was too late. I thought I’d fucked up my shot with you, and that was it.”
I press my lips together, not wanting to confess the rest of it. But Laura deserves to know what she’s getting into if she decides not to kick my damaged ass to the curb. “And I thought it was for the best. For you. I’ve got baggage, I haven’t been in a relationship in years, and I honestly don’t know what kind of boyfriend I’ll be at this point. I could completely suck at it.”
“You could,” she agrees, her tone calm and even, giving nothing away.
I nod, feeling more like a fool with every passing second. But I started this, and I’m going to finish it. “And then there’s Chloe. I worried about confusing her or her losing you as a friend if things didn’t work out.”
“Chloe will never lose me,” Laura says, with a certainty that sends warmth rushing through my chest. “As long as you’re willing to let me see her, I’ll always make time to be her friend. She’s important to me.”
“Obviously.” I cast a pointed look down at her knee brace.
Laura’s mouth softens. “But I understand where you’re coming from. Yesterday, as I was flying down that mountain, I realized how hard it must be for you. How terrifying. To love Chloe so much but know you can’t protect her all the time, no matter how hard you try.”
“It is terrifying,” I admit. “But I let her take chances and push her limits, because that’s the kind of kid she is and I don’t want her to grow up afraid. But when it comes to my own life lately…”
I bite the inside of my bottom lip, shocked by the wave of emotion tightening my chest. I didn’t expect this to be easy, but I had no idea it would feel like this. Like stepping into a crowded room full of well-dressed people while wearing nothing but sweat and my sad, ugly scars.
“I’ve been a coward,” I say, my gaze fixed on the console between us, where crayons, pink hair bows, notes scribbled during practice, Lego princess figures, stick tape, and an empty bottle of Bayer Back and Body tell the story of my life.
And it is a full life, packed with love—for my child, my family, my friends, my team—but it’s empty, too. There is a void at my core, and though I have no right to expect Laura to fill it, I’m starting to think maybe she’s the only person who can. Every time I’ve touched a woman since Maryanne died—even something as relatively innocent as a kiss—it felt wrong. Rotten. Blasphemy shouted out in a church, a desecration of something beautiful and right.
But not with Laura.
With Laura, I finally see a glimmer of hope on the horizon, a hint of what the world could look like on the other side of the grief that’s made me feel like an outsider peering through the windows of the party for so long.
I take a breath, but before I can find the words to tell her how deeply grateful I would be for a second chance, her hand covers mine.
“You’re not a coward. You’re one of the bravest people I know. Stupid sometimes,” she adds in a gently teasing tone. “And kind of a cranky know-it-all, but nobody’s perfect. And I, for one, think your good qualities far outweigh the bad ones.”
I look up, the vice grip tightening my ribs loosening a little. “Yeah?”
Her lips curve. “Yeah. Though, I wish you’d told me all of this sooner.”
“I didn’t think you’d want to hear it. But then Diana texted me and said she was pretty positive you were still interested, so…”
Laura’s eyes widen. “Oh, she did, did she? I don’t know whether to be pissed that your sister can’t keep a secret or—”
“Grateful,” I cut in. “I’m going to be grateful. Assuming you can find it in your heart to give a cranky know-it-all another chance.”
“Feelings are involved this time?” she asks softly.
“Mine are already involved,” I confess, tipping my head closer to hers. “And while I can’t promise to be the greatest boyfriend you’ve ever had, I can promise that I’ll do my best not to let you down.” I lift my hand, slipping my fingers around the back of her neck, beneath her soft hair, daring to hope when she leans into my touch.
I hope enough to add in a lighter tone, “And I swear never to try on your panties or bras without asking first.”
She laughs, her breath feathering over my lips, making me acutely aware of how close she is.
Close and warm and beautiful and maybe, just maybe…
“As long as you ask first. Then we can at least have a conversation about it.” She looks up, smile fading as our eyes meet and the air between us grows charged, electric. “So, you and me? Exclusive?”
“Exclusive.” But in my head, I’m already thinking mine. She’s mine, finally mine, and now there’s nothing holding us back. “So, can I kiss you now, Freckles?”
“Yes, please.” Her words become a moan as my lips find hers and I show her how thankful I am for this chance. I kiss her with all the need thundering through my veins, and before I can warn my hands to take it slow, my palms are cupping her breasts, teasing her nipples through her sweater.
“Does this mean we’re sharing a bed at the hotel?” Laura’s hand skims up my thigh, moving closer to my crotch, making my cock swell with the swiftness and enthusiasm of a cock of much younger year
s.
But she makes me feel younger than I have in a damned long time.
“God, I hope so.” I roll her nipples, coaxing a breathy sigh from her lips that makes me want to pull her into the backseat and take her right now, on the side of the road, while the post-Thanksgiving traffic streaks by on the highway. “I want you so much.”
“Apparently so.” She cups me through my jeans, making me groan. “I have a confession. I love making you hard. Seriously love it.”
I nip her bottom lip. “And I love making you come for me. Which is why I need my mouth between your legs as soon as fucking possible.”
“Then drive.” She rubs me up and down, and my blood pressure spikes hard enough to make me dizzy. “Seriously, Brendan. Drive,” she says, fitting the words in between kisses that are growing hotter with every passing second. “I know it’s nothing compared to your dry spell, but four months without sex isn’t normal for me, and I’m feeling pretty desperate for everything you’ve got going on beneath these clothes.”
The meaning of her words hit, and I pull back. “You haven’t been with anyone else since this summer, either?”
She shakes her head, a hint of shyness in her expression that makes me want to pull her into my lap and apologize all over again for being an idiot who read the signs all wrong. “I didn’t want to be with anyone else,” she says. “I wanted to be with you.”
Fuck, she’s sexy. And mine. The realization hits me again, the knowledge that there’s nothing to stop me from ravishing every inch of her. Nothing except the fact that we need to get off the road and into a room with four walls and a lock to keep the rest of the world out while we make up for lost time.
In a Herculean act of will, I force my hands from her skin and back to the wheel. And then I drive. Fast.
Half an hour later, we pull into the Regent’s Point check-in area with the sexual tension every bit as thick as it was before. Meaning we’re both strung tight and about ten seconds from ripping off our clothes and fucking against the nearest smooth surface. I toss my keys to the valet but grab our bags myself, not wanting company on the way to our room.
Inside, the lobby is an art deco masterpiece, something out of a simpler, more elegant time, when sitting around the fire after a long day on the slopes was all a family needed by way of entertainment. The fireplace is a massive pillar in the center of the open space, with a hearth on each of its four sides. Hand carved furniture is arranged in comfortable clusters, and bookshelves stocked with hardcover volumes and games in tasteful blue boxes litter the room. Add in the view of the mountain through the two-story floor-to-ceiling windows and the lodge is every bit as warm, romantic, swanky, yet homey as Justin promised it would be.
Not that Laura and I will be seeing much of the lobby, I suspect.
Fuck, I need to get her to a room. I need it the way I need air and food and shelter and a good, long dose of silence after listening to the commercials on Chloe’s Saturday morning cartoons for too long.
Mercifully, the check-in line is short, and after only a few minutes, Laura and I have a key to a suite on the third floor. We step into the elevator like reasonable people, but when the doors open on our floor, Laura hurries down the hall, moving swiftly despite her injured knee, and I follow, quickly passing her, even though I’m carrying both our overnight bags.
“Hurry,” she whispers, as I pull the key from its sleeve. “Hurry, hurry, hurry.”
My hands are shaking a little, but on the second try, I gain entry, pushing the door open and tossing the bags on the floor before grabbing Laura around the waist and hauling her inside.
The next few minutes are a blur of kisses and hands discovering bare skin while clothes go flying. I’m not sure when we find our way to the bed, but eventually I become aware of the squeaking sound filling the air every time Laura or I move.
“The bed squeaks.” I slip my fingers beneath the waist of her panties, breath rushing out as I feel how wet she is. She’s ready for me, and I don’t know how much longer I can wait, no matter how much I want to make sure our second first-time is something to remember.
“I don’t care.” She finds the condom I tossed onto the mattress and rips it open. “Please, Brendan. Now. I need to feel you right now.”
And I need her with a violence that’s almost scary, making me fight to maintain control as I sheath myself and position myself between her legs.
“Damn, Laura,” I murmur against her lips as I glide inside her tight heat. “You feel so good. So perfect.”
“I’ve missed you so much.” Her fingers dig into my ass as she pulls me deeper, deeper, until I’m buried to the hilt and a wave of bliss blurs my vision.
Blurs my consciousness and the rough edges of reality until there is nothing but this sexy as hell woman and the fire that burns so hot when we’re together.
I drive into her, harder, faster, urged on by the way she bucks into me, demanding more, all, everything I have to give. And then more, until we’re slamming together, wild and frantic, while the squeaking bed becomes so loud and ridiculous it would be funny if it were possible to experience amusement seconds before coming your brains out.
But it isn’t, and when she comes, crying out against my mouth, I go a second later. I come with enough force to short-circuit my nervous system, my cock pulsing as her body grips me tight, and I am, for one long, perfect moment, completely at peace.
I don’t know what’s better, the peace or the bliss, but God…I want more of both. I want as much of it, and this beauty pressing kisses to my neck as she hugs me close, as I can get.
Chapter Fifteen
Brendan
We stay in bed all afternoon, shamelessly making the queen bed squeak until I take a quick break after round three to tighten the frame’s loose screws.
“How did you do that?” Laura’s eyes widen as I give the mattress an experimental shake, proving it was the frame and not the springs complaining of our vigorous activity.
“Universal tool.” I hold up my slim, but exquisitely functional pocketknife with bonus goodies. “Never leave home without it. I like to know tools are close at hand. Just in case.”
Her lips quirk. “That’s very manly of you.”
“A man is not a man unless he knows how to use and care for his tools.”
She hums beneath her breath. “You do very good work with your tools, sir. Excellent work, in fact. I have no complaints.”
“Good.” I crawl back onto the mattress, stalking the very beautiful, very sexy, very naked prey waiting for me under the covers. “I aim to please. But there’s something you should know about me, Freckles.”
“What’s that?” she asks, eyes glittering.
“I have a hard time walking away from a job until I know it’s been done thoroughly. So, I have a serious question…”
Her grin becomes a giggle as I brace my hands on the headboard on either side of her flushed face. “Yes?”
“Have you been done thoroughly, Miss Collins?” I ask, my nose brushing against hers as I speak. “Or do you require more satisfaction?”
“That’s a hard question.” Her breath catches as I tug at the sheet, drawing it down until the crisp cotton slides over her nipples.
“Not yet, but it’s getting there.” I claim her mouth for a slow, sultry kiss as I cup her breast, teasing her tight nipple between my fingers.
She reaches down, rubbing my thickening cock through the boxers I threw on to fix the bed, because there is nothing romantic about the rear view of a naked man bending over, and I would like for Laura to keep thinking romantic thoughts about me for the foreseeable future.
“It is getting there,” she murmurs against my lips. “But sadly, I didn’t intend to be punny. It really is a hard question. I’m torn between my need to pounce you one more time and my need to get food before I collapse from starvation, ensuring I can pounce you four or five more times before we pass out.”
“Seven or eig
ht times,” I insist, kissing my way down her throat and over the curve of her bare shoulder. “Nine if we stay up until midnight.” I reach her breast and circle her nipple with my tongue, teasing around the place where pale flesh becomes pink, sensitized skin and deliberately avoiding the tight tip straining toward my mouth. “I’m an old man who loves his ten o’clock bedtime, but I’m feeling inspired to burn the midnight oil.”
“You’re not old.” She shifts beneath me, arching closer to my mouth. “Oh, yes, please, more…”
“There will definitely be more.” I circle her nipple again, getting closer to where I know she wants me before I pause, lips hovering over her taut flesh. “But first to feed the beauty before she becomes a beast.”
I roll off the bed and reach for my jeans, grinning at the outraged sound Laura makes behind me.
“I’m not going to become a beast!” She tosses a pillow that sails over my head, landing with a soft plop on the carpet. “Now get back here and finish what you started.”
“No can do, sweetheart,” I say, stepping into my jeans. “I’ve seen you hungry. It’s not pretty.”
She huffs. “Not all of us are gifted with steady, reliable blood sugar levels in the absence of regular food intake.”
“And not all of us throw foam fingers at the pizza guy when he delivers pepperoni instead of cheese.”
“Pepperoni is too salty, and not what we ordered. Plus he was an hour late, and all ten pizzas were cold. He’s lucky it was a foam finger and not my stapler.” She pins me with a glare that sends my semi surging into a full-blown erection, making me wish I dared to take a picture of her like this, with the covers pooled around her waist, her hair drifting around her shoulders so that her nipples play peek-a-boo between the auburn strands.
She’s a goddess, and I’m still not sure how I got lucky enough to convince her to give me another chance, but I’m determined not to fuck it up.
Especially not with something as ridiculous as forgetting to feed her.
“And that’s why I’m going to go kill the wooly mammoth and drag it back to our cave.” I hold her gaze as I button my jeans, already eager for the moment when this dressing business will be going in the opposite direction again. “So what’s your pleasure, sexy? Pizza from the restaurant under the stairs, something from the bar, or should I hit the buffet and bring you a to-go box filled with a little of everything?”
