A Charmed Little Lie

by Sharla Lovelace

  “Hey,” Alan said, laughing, holding both hands up. “Don’t shoot. I was just getting a hug from the party girl.”

  “Party girl?” I said, chuckling. “Hardly. I tend to find the corners like this one and hope no one finds me.”

  Hint.

  “Oh, I’m not talking about this party,” Alan said, winking. “I’m referring to you showing off that beautiful rack of yours at mine.” He shook his head as his eyes landed unabashedly on my chest. Like now he had that right, because they were community property or something.

  “Alan,” Dean admonished, looking at me apologetically. “Dude, come on, let’s move on.”

  “Why?” Alan asked, grinning at us all. His eyes were a little overly red.

  “Because maybe you’ve had a little too much of something,” Dean said, his eyes scanning the room and then coming back to me. “Sorry, Lanie.”

  “We can go talk to Frosty for you,” Alan said.

  The look in Dean’s eyes kind of broke my heart. As much as an asshole that he was during their divorce, and even some of their marriage, he still held a torch for her. An unhealthy and twisted torch maybe, but still.

  “Why don’t we just go find your wife,” Dean said with a smile, turning Alan with ease and guiding him along. “See y’all later.”

  I looked up at Nick and he gave me a downward glance as I was still wrapped around him.

  “Thank you for not sucker punching him,” I said.

  He ran a finger along my cheek that felt decidedly real. Breathtakingly so. Then he pulled my arms free and turned me around so that I was in front of him. He draped an arm over my chest in a hug from behind, his other arm around my waist, pulling me against him with my ass up against—oh my.

  “Love is messy. It’s up and down and everywhere. Don’t try to make sense of it or understand it, it makes no sense. I’ve never understood anything in my whole life and I’m the happiest person in the world.”

  Chapter Twelve

  “As you can tell,” he said against my ear. “You have this way of taking all the blood from my head so that I can’t think straight.”

  Shitballs. Holy crap. If I felt all his touches before, I was positively zinging with them now. I knew where his arm was warm against my breasts. Where his fingers rested along my neck. Where his other hand was splayed on my belly. And where his dick was settled nicely against my ass and sending all my nerve endings into a frenzied dance.

  “And you think this position helps?”

  “Not even a little bit,” he said on a chuckle. “In fact, it probably makes it worse. But I’m most definitely not thinking about punching Alan Bowman for copping a feel on my wife.”

  I started to laugh, because that made the goose bumps dissipate that had sprung up when he said my wife against my ear. I was hopeless. I was screwed.

  “Well, success, then.”

  “We should get T-shirts made,” he said. “I saw Lanie McKane’s boobs and I liked it.”

  “We could have sold them at the festival! We could definitely get a booth at the carnival next month,” I said, angling my head up to look at him and feeling my belly twitch right where his hand was. His face was so close. And that was okay, because—because we were supposed to do that, and it was the perfect time, but it didn’t feel like the plan or the game or the anything as he looked into my eyes.

  “That’s my girl,” he said finally, a small grin pulling at his lips, and I faced back forward, counting the seconds of my breaths.

  We stayed that way, rocking a little to the music. His arms around me and his face against my hair, my hands hugging his arms. I closed my eyes and mentally took a picture of this moment. This was what real must feel like. With feelings.

  My eyes opened. Slowly, I disentangled myself and turned around, patting his chest.

  “I’m gonna get some punch,” I said. “You want some?”

  He shook his head. “I’m good.”

  I glanced downward. “Are you?”

  The grin came back, sending a shimmy through me. “It’s why I untucked my shirt.”

  My brows furrowed. “You did that at the house.”

  “I know,” he said.

  Damn he was good. “Okay, I’ll be—right back,” I said.

  I needed something cold and some space between us before my head made me do something crazy. Something like scale him like a tree. I poured myself a cup of punch and knocked it back, blinking and coughing at the unexpected burn.

  “Seriously? Is this junior high?” I choked. “You can buy beer here.”

  I caught Carmen’s eye across the room, where she was talking to a good-looking guy I didn’t know. Good for her. She needed some attention here besides the moony-eyed mayor that was eyeing her over his beer. She nodded back toward the corner, though, and I turned to see what the deal was.

  “Are you shitting me?”

  I filled my cup one more time and knocked that one back too. What the hell. Maybe a little liquid confidence was what I needed. One step in that direction, however, and guess who? Yep.

  “Dance?” Alan said, stepping in front of me and very nearly sticking his outstretched hand into my cleavage.

  “Not right now,” I said, moving to walk around him.

  “Hey, I’m—” he began, angling to stop me again. “I’m really sorry about a few minutes ago. Dean’s right, I probably need some food. Or some coffee.”

  I turned and picked up a cracker slathered in raw honey, the crystallization sparkling under the lights.

  “Here you go,” I said, shoving it into his mouth before he could protest.

  I walked around him without hesitation, only to be stopped with a hug from Alicia.

  “Hey, cousin!” she said, like we hadn’t seen each other in years and didn’t have a pending case of crap between us.

  “You people need to stop,” I said, backing out of her hug. “See that guy?” I pointed at Nick, who was fending off Katrina Bowman’s hands. I saw red. Again. I had about had it with other people getting to touch him more than I did. A slow song came on, an old one that spoke to me somehow. Or spoke to the moment. The lights dimmed, and the time had come. “The hot one over there getting molested by Alan’s wife? That’s my husband. And I’m going over there to rescue him and pull him out on the dance floor. So whatever stupid plan y’all have to divide and conquer is going to work out about as well as the last time did.”

  “I—” Alicia began, her fuzzy hair trembling, but I was already on my way.

  “Hi, Katrina,” I said, removing her hand from his abdomen and taking his. “You don’t mind, right? I need to dance with my husband.”

  I didn’t look back, and I didn’t care. Nick’s hand was warm in mine, and when we reached the dance floor they’d cleared a space for, he tugged back gently to make me turn around. The look in those dark eyes nearly took out my knees. He pulled me into his arms, leaving no room for imagination, and I let my hands slide up his chest to his neck, and around back as his eyelids grew heavy.

  Roberta Flack crooned softly, the first time…ever I saw your face… And something in me went warm from head to toe. Something besides whatever was in that punch. Something more real than that.

  “Nice save.”

  “I tried.”

  “How was the punch?” he asked.

  I wound my fingers into his hair and pulled his head down.

  “See for yourself,” I said, the last word finished against his lips.

  Sparks ignited throughout my body as our lips met. Soft. Slow. Wet. Needing. Our bodies moved as one with the music, so close, so tightly pressed together I could feel his heart beating. My hands traveled slowly back down his chest and around his middle as his came up into my hair. When his tongue ran over my top lip, I knew he could feel my gasp. And when I pulled him in deeper to taste him, I felt the low growl in his chest rumbling against mine.

  His fingers twisted in my hair as he dove deep and then pulle
d back, deep again and back, teasing me, pulling back to kiss my lips one at a time, as I kept clinging tighter. I was drunk on it. Breathing shallow. My fingers curling into his shirt with the need for more.

  The first time…ever I kissed…your lips…

  It was erotic, the way he kissed me. The way I kissed him. Slow, matching our movements. Intimate. Electric and emotional at the same time. And so full of desire and barely restrained need, that my body was trembling with it when he held my face and leaned his forehead against mine.

  I wanted to keep my eyes closed. Absorb the feel of him, the song, the words, the taste. Just hold on to it a little longer. But I felt the heat of his gaze and my eyes fluttered open. And everything inside me turned to liquid fire. No one—ever—had looked at me like that. Had wanted me like that. The mirror image of what was churning inside me was all over him. In the desire mixed with the trouble haunting his eyes. This wasn’t the game. That thought hit me like a sucker punch to the gut. This was—

  His mouth covered mine again, hungrier, hotter, and I melted into it. The burn in my chest at the realization of just how fucking real this was, stole at my breath, and I didn’t care. It was more than we were supposed to be doing but—God, it was so good. It was so good my heart felt like it was swelling to the size of the room. Wrapping around us as his hands cradled my face and he broke from the kiss, moving his lips along my face, my cheeks, back to my lips, both of us breathing fast. It was more. Nick was giving me the more. It wasn’t just physical; it was bursting inside me.

  When he pulled me to him, I buried my face in his neck and held him as tightly as I could as the words slowed to an end. I didn’t want it to be over. I didn’t want to let go.

  I could hear my heart in my ears, pounding with every breath. He smelled like soap and something woodsy and Nick, and I always knew that but being up close enough to lick him made the smell intoxicating.

  The music stopped.

  The lighting was changing. I had to let go of him, and the second I moved he backed up too. Just a little. Just enough for me to see the mouth I’d just gotten to know intimately. His gaze fell to my lips as well, before dragging up to my eyes. Things had changed. In the course of time it took for that song to make its evolution, our reality had shifted. And the real kicker was that I think we both knew it already had.

  “So, the punch is decent?” he said.

  The humor pulled at my lips. “It’s spiked.”

  “Perfect,” he said. “Need some more?”

  “No, I’m gonna—” I pointed in the general direction of where I thought the bathrooms were, and he moved my hand to correct it, making me chuckle. Always the one to put me at ease. “Thanks.”

  Except that nothing was at ease. As I made a beeline for the ladies’ room, dodging fifteen people’s attempts to draw me in with boob anecdotes, I felt the weight sitting on my chest. I pushed open the door, sent up a prayer of thanks for an empty room, and leaned over on the old Formica countertop.

  “Oh my God,” I whispered. “Oh my God oh my God oh my God.”

  Sweat popped out on my forehead, I could feel it. I ran the cold water on full blast and stuck my wrists under the stream like I’d heard you should do. The door opened behind me, and I grimaced.

  “Yeah, I’d be looking for anything short of ice cubes after that too,” said Carmen’s voice, flooding me with both relief and the knowledge that I might have a meltdown.

  “You wanted us to kiss,” I said, not looking up.

  “I wanted you to kiss, not procreate,” she said, laughing. When I looked up and she saw my face, however, she stopped. “Hey, I’m kidding. What’s wrong?”

  The elephant on my chest shifted all the way to my throat and eyes, and the burn was too much to hold back. Hot tears spilled over before I could blink them away.

  “That—that was—” I began, pointing at the door as the tears tracked down my face. I shook my head. I couldn’t say it. “Fuck balls.”

  “That was hot,” Carmen said. “Looked as real as it gets. I can’t imagine faking—” I was nodding and crying harder and she stopped and tilted her head. “Oh my God.”

  “Yeah,” I hiccupped.

  “Come here,” she said, pulling me into a momma bear hug. “I’m sorry. You did say you were falling for him.”

  “You said I was falling for him,” I squeaked.

  “And I was right,” she said, rubbing my back. “Good God almighty. But you know, it’s not the end of the world to have feelings for someone.”

  “In this case, it is,” I sniffled. “In two months, it is literally the end of this particular world we’ve created. He goes home. I—go home or move across the country. We—have taken steps to avoid this.”

  “And then he fell in your mouth,” she said.

  “Actually, I pulled him in,” I said. “Katrina Bowman pushed me over the edge and I pulled him with me. Damn it, it’s always her fault! Every time she’s around, I give up a part of my body and my sanity.”

  My phone buzzed, and I glanced at it, halfway hoping it was Nick. From outside the door? God, I really had fallen.

  It was a text from Tilly.

  It was an unknown number, but it was Tilly.

  The How’s my sweet boy? line gave it away. Then Bad news. I won’t be coming home for a while. Like a long while. Have some issues to take care of. Hope you’re not mad. Hug Ralph for me and tell him I love him.

  I sputtered out a cry. “And now I have a dog. What else?” I waved my hands in the air. “No, not what else. I didn’t mean that, universe, don’t jinx me!”

  Carmen let go of me, and directed me back to the sink.

  “Splash some water on your face and get yourself together,” Carmen said. “I’ll go run interference. Need a drink?”

  “No, I think that helped me get here,” I said. “I’m good.”

  I wasn’t good, but it was as good as it was going to get. We’d crossed the very line we’d been toeing for a month. Only a month? It felt like six. Funny how in the beginning the thought of crossing that threshold with him just sounded like sex. Now—no, don’t go traipsing down that now path.

  * * *

  It took longer to walk to the car than it did to drive home, namely because the fireworks started and I jumped like I’d been shot.

  “I’ve got you,” Nick said, stopping to put his arms around me. “Here, turn around.” He turned me with my back against him. Both arms went around me tightly. “Focus on the beauty of them,” he said against my ear. “How majestic they are.”

  Each explosion made me shake but he was right. I’d never let myself actually watch the blossom and bloom and three-dimensional effect of them, but they were beautiful.

  “Nothing’s gonna hurt you now,” he said. “I won’t let it.”

  My eyes were leaking by the time it was over, but it wasn’t out of fear. It was just emotional. No one had ever done that for me before, and when he let me go, I missed it.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  I nodded, and he took my hand and walked slowly with me to the car, where once we were inside, it changed. It felt like forever, in that tiny space all closed in and trapped, with suddenly nothing to talk about and both of us locked in a memory of everything, namely a hot embrace to stop time.

  Or I was, at least. I couldn’t speak for Nick. For all I knew, he was thinking about his motorcycle or what was on the menu for the week or hell maybe he was thinking of Tara—the last woman he had in his arms.

  That was so not fair, and I wanted to slap myself upside the head for going there, but the little green jealousy troll invaded me in my moment of weakness. The thought of that woman in his arms, in his life, in his mouth—it made my chest hurt. It made my damn chest hurt! This was why I didn’t do these crazy things.

  We pulled up to the house and I opened the door almost before the car stopped. Before we could start talking. Luckily, Nick didn’t try to change the course and he made for
the front door as quickly as I did.

  “So, you have to work tomorrow?” he asked as we both deflected Ralph’s enthusiasm.

  “Half day,” I said. “Then I’ll head out to the festival. I signed up for a couple of events for work and one to help out Bash’s apiary.”

  Nick nodded, and that was it for the small talk. It made my insides hurt in a different way. We talked all the time. We basically never stopped talking. And now we were dancing—no, not dancing. We were skirting around the giant purple rhinoceros in the room, making small talk like strangers. Because we’d just made out like lovers.

  Annnnnddddd that thought pulled the air right out of my lungs.

  “I’m gonna go crash a little early,” Nick said, standing maybe a foot away. Not that I was measuring, but I could just about feel the inches. “Been a long day, driving and all.”

  And other things.

  “Okay, sleep good,” I said, turning to find something—anything—to busy myself with. “See you in the morning.”

  There was a pause. “Lanie.”

  Oh, fuck.

  When I turned back his way, he was staring at me with an intensity that covered my body in goose bumps. Jesus.

  “What?” I asked, the word coming out breathy.

  “You looked beautiful tonight.”

  Heart in the ears again. Pulse racing. Chest felt like a pinball game. Damn, this guy was going to kill me.

  I tilted my head to try to be cute, and a strand of my hair brushed across my cheek.

  “Kinda had it going on, yourself, Mr. McKane,” I said.

  The grin that tugged at one side of his mouth disarmed me, rendering me unprepared for the hand that came up and tucked my hair behind my ear. Rendered him unprepared too, by the look of want that crossed his face when he touched me. My breath caught in my chest as what felt like magnets sucked me into his space.

  He breathed in deep and shook his head slowly, letting his hand fall.

  “And that,” he said softly, leaning forward with a wink. “Is why I’m going to bed.”

  I felt the air move as he passed me.