by L. A. Fiore
She visibly shook at that announcement. “Okay, I’ll go.”
“Let’s do it now.”
She wanted to object, but it seemed Melody was smarter than that. “Okay.”
“And after, you might want to leave town for a while.”
Yeah, she was definitely getting it because she didn’t put up much of a fight. “That’s probably a good idea.”
Arriving home, Rafe was in the drive. Waiting.
“Is everything okay.”
“Yeah.”
“What happened?”
“Not now. I don’t want to talk about it right now. There is shit we have to discuss, you need to be made aware, but not right now. Are you planning on taking a shower?”
My body hummed from the look in his eyes, he looked dangerous, in a really sexy way. “Yeah.”
Lifting me into his arms, he carried me into the carriage house and right to the bathroom. Dropping me on my feet, he reached for the faucet before he turned into me. His fingertips brushed down my neck, along my shoulder burning a trail wherever he touched.
“Arms up.”
I didn’t hesitate; the look in his eyes captivated me because there was just so much going on behind them. After removing my shirt and bra, he lowered himself in front of me, gripping my pants and pulling them and my panties down my legs. He dropped the garments on the tile floor once I’d stepped out of them.
“My turn.” But my hands were already moving over him, exploring his body over the soft cotton of his shirt. Lifting his shirt up, he bent his head so I could get it over. He was wearing those faded jeans I loved so much as I ran my hand over his hip and along his ass; the denim tenting from his erection. Moving my hand down that bulge and feeling what my touch did to him was heady. Unsnapping his jeans, I pulled them down his legs. Grabbing me, he pushed me into the shower, right up against the wall, as his mouth closed over mine. His tongue explored my mouth even as his hands did the same with my body. It was all so new and I loved this part of a relationship: the learning and discovering of the other person. I had never had a lasting relationship, but I suspected with a man like Rafe I’d love even more knowing him inside and out; knowing what made him tick—the familiarity and comfort of knowing him as well as I knew myself.
“You taste like cocoa.” He muttered as he ran his tongue over my shoulder.
“I didn’t use cocoa today.”
“You always taste like cocoa.”
“So that’s what you like about me, I’m sweet.”
His head lifted, lust and humor playing over his features. “You are sweet and a goof.” He reached for the shampoo, squeezing a generous amount into his palm, before he started to wash my hair. I may have moaned.
Words were so not happening right now because I was trying really hard to keep my legs from buckling under me. And then he surprised me with what he said next.
“Trace is getting me some really good steaks for the dinner with my dad since he’s always loved steak. I thought I’d do baked potatoes and a salad too.”
Nervousness rang from his voice, slight but undeniable, but it was the fact that he wanted to talk about it with me, wanted to include me in the other parts of his life that had my heart feeling so full it didn’t seem possible that it could be contained inside my chest. “Sounds delicious. I’ll make dessert. Does your dad have a preference?”
“He always liked cheesecake.”
“With a topping?”
“Usually plain.”
“Okay, a cheesecake it is.”
My fingers danced down his stomach, following the curves of his abs. He had a fantastic body and hands; I wanted to purr at how fabulous it felt having his strong fingers massaging my scalp. “You’ve wonderful hands.”
Moving me under the spray, he washed the shampoo from my hair.
“Wonderful hands? How about now?”
His thumb pressed against my clit as his fingers moved into me, rubbing me on the inside. My breath caught, “Definitely now.”
“Ride it, Avery, build it up.” I felt his tongue on my nipple seconds before he pulled it deep into his mouth and the combination of his mouth and fingers; yeah, my hips had a mind of their own. Grinding into him—loving the feel of him inside me—I reached for him to give him pleasure, but he turned me and pressed me up against the shower wall.
“Tilt your ass back.”
The fingers of his one hand were digging into my hip, moving me the way he wanted even as he sought my cooperation. I felt the tip of his cock on my lower back, felt as he ran it down the crack of my ass, before he reached my core that was already starting to quiver with mini orgasms. In the next breath, he buried himself deep.
“Oh, God.” Mind numbing was how it felt having his bare cock moving inside me.
“I won’t come in you, but I have to feel you.”
“Don’t stop, please don’t stop.” Arching my spine, his hips pumped, his cock pounding into me, his hand moved around my front and as soon as he pinched my clit, I came on a cry. His hips moved faster, his grip on my hips tightened and then he pulled out on a growl as he came on my back. Pressing into me, he wrapped his arms around my waist and dropped his forehead on my shoulder. “That was fucking fantastic.”
The way he held me still, protectively, reverently touched something in me. No one had ever held me the way he was now, like I mattered, like I was the reason the sun rose and set.
Feeling deliriously happy, I teased, “You’ve ruined showers for me. I’ll never take another one and not think about this.”
“And that’s bad, why?” He asked, as his lips brushed over my shoulder.
“I’m going to spend the rest of my life in the shower.”
“Unless we make some memorable moments elsewhere in the house.”
Turning into him, I wrapped my arms around his neck. “I like this plan. Any thoughts?”
“Fucking you on the kitchen counter, bent over the sofa in the living room, in my workshop.”
My body started to throb. “I like all those ideas.”
“Then we better get started, but first we need food.”
“Agreed.”
Lifting up on my tip toes, I ran my tongue along his lower lip before dipping into his mouth, his hand wrapped around my neck and pulled me closer as he took over the kiss, leaving me breathless when he ended it.
“I like being here, Rafe.”
“I like you being here, Avery.”
The following evening, while I set the table for dinner, I thought about last night. We’d christened several places in both the carriage house and here. It’d been fabulous. I’d asked him again about Melody, he alluded to the break in being connected to his dad, something we both suspected, but he asked if we could talk about it after his dad’s visit. It was a big deal for Rafe, his father coming to dinner in his home. So, yeah, I was totally okay with waiting a day or two.
Liam had arrived a half an hour ago. The first stop on the tour was Rafe’s workshop. I heard as they entered the house and moved to greet them. Seeing them together, it was uncanny how much they looked alike. Rafe saw me first; the smile that spread over his face was staggeringly beautiful.
“Avery.”
“Rafe.” Stepping up to his dad, I wasn’t sure how to greet him so I settled for a kiss on his cheek. “How are you?”
“Better now.” That was said in much the way I’d heard Rafe tease me. Like father, like son.
“Can I get you a drink?” Rafe asked us both. “Beer?”
“Sounds good to me.”
“Yeah, me too.” Liam added.
“While you show your dad around, I’ll whip up a salad.”
“Are you sure you don’t want help?”
“Yep, I’ve got this.”
“Okay.” Rafe moved into me, pressing close, and kissed my neck. He whispered in my ear. “Thanks.” Then turning to his dad, he said, “We can start in the living room.”
Liam caught my eye as he walked out of the room, following
his son. “Thank you, Avery.”
And I knew he was thanking me for giving him some alone time with his son. I chopped the vegetables, their voices drifted to me from the living room.
“It’s incredible. It doesn’t look like the same place. You’ve brought it back to life.”
“It’s a slow process, but I’m finally getting to the point where I can see the light at the end of the tunnel. And you’re right, it’s like breathing life back into it.”
“But you saw it. If I’d toured through the place looking as it did in those pictures, I’d have walked right back out again. You saw its potential. When did you know this was what you wanted to do?”
“Wood shop class in middle school. I loved every part of it.”
“You can tell. And the furniture, you made that too?”
“Yeah.”
“Beautiful.”
“How’s your job?”
“I’m working on cars, what I used to do. A bit different since now all the cars have onboard computers, but it’s familiar which kind of helps me with adjusting.”
“Have you ever built anything?”
“The occasional bookcase, but nothing like what you create.”
“The business has taken off, I’ve got orders out the ass. I could always use another pair of hands. If you think it’s something you’d enjoy, we can talk about it.”
Tears filled my eyes just imagining Liam’s reaction to that. His voice was a bit hoarse when he replied, “I’d really like that.”
“Okay, you’ll have to get trained on the tools, but I’d like that too. I’d like for you to be a part of what I’ve created here.”
After I tossed the salad, I left it on the counter and stepped outside with Loki to give Rafe and his dad some privacy. And it was while I thought about the generous offer he had made his dad—walking around the place he had made a home—I realized I wanted to be a part of what he created here too. Who could have known by following my dreams I’d also lose my heart.
Rafe came searching for me a half an hour later. “You okay?”
“Yeah. How’s it going?”
“Seeing my home through his eyes, it’s an affirmation I never knew I needed. I asked him to work with me.”
I smiled because I was seeing a different side to Rafe, the son: the proud son. “I heard, that’s why I left you alone. I thought it was a moment that shouldn’t be eavesdropped on. I think it’s a wonderful idea.”
He took a lock of my hair between his thumb and forefinger. “You were eavesdropping?”
“Well, you were speaking loud, but yeah. It’s a big deal. Your dad is here, seeing your home through your eyes for the first time. Speaking of which, where is he?”
“He was sneaking some of the cheesecake you made for dessert.” He reached for my hand. “Let’s go fire up the grill.” We had just reached the door when he stopped, his focus turning to me. “I meant it, Avery. I like having you here.”
On second thought, I didn’t lose my heart; I gave it away and happily.
Dad and I were sitting in the living room; Avery had fallen asleep, curled up on the sofa, her head on my lap. It felt good, having Dad and Avery in my home. I had missed my dad, but I didn’t appreciate just how much until I had him back. It was a hell of a feeling, showing him what I’d done here, the life I had carved out for myself. I wanted him to be a part of that, wanted to help him get to a place where he’d feel a bit of what I felt.
“Has your guy learned anything about your mom?”
“I haven’t heard from him. I’ll call him, set up a time for us to meet.” Dad was across the room by the fireplace, his focus on the bottle in his hand, but his thoughts were miles away.
“You miss her.”
His head lifted, the truth of my statement right there to see. “Yeah. Especially watching you with Avery. What Lexie and I had was very similar. We were so young but it was just right, the kind of right I knew I’d never grow tired of. Instead of building a life like you’ve done here, I lost her and then I lost you. It’s amazing how quickly your life can shift. What you’ve found with her, hold onto to it, Rafe, because it comes around so rarely. She’s good for you, keeps you on your toes and yet she can’t stop staring at you anymore than you can with her.”
He was right. What I’d found with Avery didn’t come around every day. “We’re that obvious?”
“Yeah, but it’s good. That’s what life is all about. It isn’t about making money or getting the killer job or the fancy car. It’s those everyday moments strung together that make up a life. I’d sell my soul to have the everyday moments I witnessed the two of you sharing tonight.”
“It was like getting struck by lightning the day she walked into my life. Trace told me he’d hired a pastry chef, I expected a matronly woman, and then she appeared.”
“This Trace, the one who dropped her in your lap, you owe him, son, a debt you’ll never be able to repay.”
“I’m just beginning to realize the truth of that statement.”
“At least you see it. Some men have to lose it before they appreciate what they had.”
“You’re not talking about yourself.”
“No. I appreciated, I was just too young to do anything about it.”
“And what if you were to learn Mom was no longer married?”
“My gut reaction, seek her out and stake a claim, but she never once attempted to contact you. Me, I get, but her child? I don’t know. She’s a grown woman now, she can’t still be under the thumb of her dad, so maybe the woman I thought she was isn’t really who she is.”
“I’m sorry, Dad.” And I was, appreciated his situation all that much more after having met Avery. I couldn’t imagine being denied the chance of exploring this wild and intense attraction we shared all because of someone’s meddling.
“I’m not sorry, I got you.”
My eyes stung, my chest felt tight hearing him say that. Realizing the effect he had on me and graciously changing the subject he added, “I think I’m going to take you up on your invite. It’s late and I’ve had a few beers, best not to get pulled over for driving under the influence.”
“Good idea. Avery insisted on making up the second bedroom, I think she might have even put a mint on your pillow.”
He grinned. “She really is a goof, but definitely a keeper. Night, son.”
“Night, Dad.”
He had just reached the door when I called to him. “We lost a lot of time and I’ve got plenty of room. Think about moving in here.”
And I knew he really meant to when he said, “Thanks, son, I will.”
Avery recruited my dad to help with the gardens. I wasn’t surprised he’d agreed; the woman was a dynamo. Unstoppable when she had her mind set. Currently she stood in my front yard, dressed in overalls. No shit, overalls, a flannel shirt and fucking straw hat. She had a can of neon orange spray paint that she was using to create the lines of the garden beds she wanted us to dig. She was having entirely too much fun with that can of paint. Loki, who was acting more like the puppy he had been—the big yard in lieu of our daily walks in the park bummed him out since now that Avery walked him everyday, he was more animated—was running around Avery barking. She was likely going to spray paint my dog and the sorry, besotted animal didn’t seem to have a problem with that.
My dad wasn’t any better. Grinning at Avery, which only encouraged her to be more of a goof. And who the hell was I kidding; I couldn’t keep my eyes off her. She was like this brilliant ball of energy, mesmerizing to watch. I hadn’t realized I was lonely until she drove into my life in that piece of shit car.
“Rafe, what do you think?” She called as she waved her arms wide to encompass the orange lines that now curved around the front of my house. “Why are you standing all the way back there?”
“I’m not interested in getting painted orange. It seems anything stationary for too long doesn’t stand a chance.”
Her hands on her hips were the precursor to her givin
g me lip. “I have only painted what I wanted painted, smart ass.”
“So that’s why your ass is orange and you’ve got a streak of it in your hair?”
“What?” She looked at my dad. “My hair isn’t orange. Is it?”
“Just a little.”
“A little? Come on, Dad. She is going to look in the mirror.”
“Okay, maybe more than a little.”
Most women of my acquaintance would, at this point, run screaming to the bathroom to ascertain the damage. Not Avery. Instead, she asked my dad, “Does it look good?”
“On you, yeah.”
“Cool.” And then those eyes landed on me again. “So are you coming over here or what?”
And it was while I stood in my front yard with my dad, looking at Avery doing a fair interpretation of a Beverly Hillbilly with orange paint, the color of a fucking traffic cone, streaking her hair that I realized I was in love with her. For the first time, I understood Trace and Lucien’s intensity when it came to their wives. Like Lucien, I was whipped; a fucking goner and I so didn’t care.
“Put the can of paint down and I’ll come over.”
Her nose wrinkled, she had a thought on that, but she did put the paint down. Reaching her side, I yanked her to me and kissed the scowl right off her face. She had an entirely different look about her when I took a step back.
“So are we digging this up or what?” I asked, knowing she was no longer thinking about garden beds.
Her eyes opened, but it took her a moment to find her balance, which pulled a grin from me. “You did that on purpose.”
She was right; she knew she was right, I didn’t need to confirm that for her.
Reaching for her shovel, I handed it to her. She smiled, and I knew exactly what she was thinking before she said, “I might be using this later, to bury not dig.”
Fucking goof.
Four hours later we were all covered in dirt and mud. My back ached, my arms were sore and if I never saw another plant or shovel, I would die a happy man. But I couldn’t lie; Avery’s vision in reality was perfect. The curves of the garden bed and the foliage of the plants she selected softened the front of the house bringing visual interest to what had been seriously lacking.
