Ronnie’s face didn’t look as angry as Yvonne felt. She looked shocked. But her ex-friend’s body language told a different story. Her biceps and forearms were clenched, muscles pushing against her tanned, taut skin. “So, it’s true. Lydia told me you were coming… I guess I didn’t believe it. I didn’t believe he could forgive you after what you did to him.”
Kyra cleared her throat, stepping between her friends. “Guys, it was a long time ago—”
“Yeah, it was a long time ago,” Ronnie said. “And the fact that thirteen years still hasn’t completely healed him should tell you just how much you fucked him up.”
“Me?” Yvonne coughed or laughed or choked… she couldn’t really tell which. Was she hearing this right? “What the hell are you talking about?” she asked, dropping her voice to a whisper. It was an engagement party for God’s sake. The last thing Cam and Lydia needed was for them to be making a scene. “You and Steve both left me in a hospital bed, unable to walk, and never visited. Not once. You were my best friend, Ronnie—”
“Yeah and if it hadn’t been for your le—”
All Yvonne saw was the back of Kyra’s head, bouncy blond curls blocking her view of Ronnie. “Enough. Now is not the place or the time, you guys. I’ve been offering for years to sit down with both of you and be the buffer so you could work shit out. Neither of you took me up on it. And I’m not going to let you ruin Cam and Lydia’s party.” She stepped back, looking between the two girls, and slammed the rest of her Limoncello, putting the glass on the bistro table next to them. “Maybe next week we can all meet up at a coffee shop or a bar, or hell, a boxing ring for all I care, and work this out—”
“There’s nothing to work out,” Ronnie said. “Just don’t break his heart again.”
With that, she stalked to the other side of the bar and ordered a glass of red wine from Nick.
Yvonne felt an emptiness in the pit of her stomach as though it dropped down to her pelvis. “What the hell was that about? Steve disappeared on me.”
“Well, yeah, but—”
“But? There is no ‘but’ involved here, Kyra. They both abandoned me. It took me a few weeks, but I accept the fact that the accident was partially my fault. Steve walking away hurt. But my best friend? That hurt more.” Yvonne shook her head, hugging her arms against her stomach. Damn. Why’d she let Kyra talk her into this dress? She knew it’d be uncomfortable. “I knew she blamed me for the accident, but there were two lives that almost ended that night. I just thought mine was important to her, too. Guess I was wrong.”
“I know,” Kyra said, her eyes softening. “But Steve’s a good guy. He loved you. He wouldn’t have walked away for no reason. Did you ever wonder why?”
Yvonne snorted, shaking her head. Of course she had. She’d spent years going over every little detail, trying to determine what could make the guy she loved so much turn his back on her. On the outside, he maybe took the blame for that accident. But on the inside? He clearly blamed her. “We’re never going to work,” she whispered, not intending it to be for anyone but herself. Tonight was a terrible idea. Reigniting things with Steve was an even worse idea, it seemed. Because even if they could move on and forgive each other, it seemed like the people surrounding them couldn’t. There was an ache in her chest, and Yvonne pressed her hand to her heart as though that could make the pain go away.
“Don’t say that. Once Ronnie sees you two together—she’ll get over it. If you and Steve can forgive each other, there’s no reason your families won’t follow suit.”
Yvonne snorted, rolling her eyes and swiped the stray tear from her cheek. “You’ve met my mom and dad, right?”
“Okay… well, maybe just the Tripp family will follow suit. And really, they’re the ones that matter most, right? You’ve never cared about what your parents think.”
That was true, but they were still her mom and dad. She still loved them. Yvonne took a deep breath, finishing the Limoncello, its liquor sweet and delicious. She smiled, looking down at the empty cup. “Did you purposefully order me a drink that coordinated with my dress? It’s a very Kyra thing to do,” she said, feeling her smile creep back to her face.
“There’s no point in getting all dressed up and then drinking something that could stain your outfit,” she said, winking. “I’ll get us another.”
‡
Chapter Twenty-Five
By the time Noah pulled into Giuseppe’s parking lot, Steve was feeling immensely better. The rest of the drive was mostly silent as his headache slowly receded. Noah, for all his faults, knew when to let blissful silence just be. Unlike his twin, Callie, who heard silence and had a quest to fill it with any sort of chatter.
They were late enough that the party was already in full swing. A small, three-piece band was set up in the corner, and tables had been cleared out to make room for a dance floor. Tables of some of the best pizza on the East Coast lined the edges of the wall, along with pasta and carpaccio. Across the room was a dessert table with a three-tiered lemon meringue pie as the centerpiece. Steve stood back, admiring the gorgeous party Lydia and his brother had put together as a sort of placeholder for the delayed wedding.
At the back of the room, he caught a flash of yellow and blinked. Yvonne sat at the bar, a curve-hugging yellow dress highlighting her gorgeous body. Lean, muscled legs—runner’s legs—peeked out from beneath as she sat on a barstool, her legs crossed. The dress was flipped a little higher than he would have expected from her, flashing her tight thigh. He felt his groin tighten, and his mouth went dry as he imagined kissing his way up the insides of her knee. She and Kyra were laughing, and they each tipped back a neon-yellow drink. Kyra leaned over the bar, reaching for the liquor bottle. Nick rushed over, slapping her hand out from behind the bar before pouring them another. Was she—was Yvonne tipsy?
A shadow darkened in front of him and when he blinked, Ronnie was in his face, her scowl like something out of a horror movie. “Jesus,” Steve grunted. “Who pissed on your leg?”
“What is she doing here, Steve?”
He felt his stomach tighten, weighing his options. He could play dumb, but that would only buy him an extra second. “You knew Yvonne and I were talking again. You saw us at Elsa’s.”
“Yeah, talking. I didn’t think it was serious enough to bring her as your date to your brother’s engagement party.”
“He just walked in,” Noah interrupted. “Give the guy a break.”
Ronnie’s glare softened as she moved her attention to their little brother. “Noah, this history… it was before your time. You and Callie were too young to see—”
“We weren’t too young. We saw everything. We knew more than everyone gave us credit for.”
Steve felt the sigh in his chest, but refused to give in to it. “This is between me and Eve. Stay out of it, Ronnie.” He gave a quick glance at his younger brother, thankful to Noah for trying.
Ronnie jerked back, shock paling her otherwise summery tanned complexion. “Eve? She’s back to Eve, is she?”
“Yeah. She is.”
“And what happens when she breaks your heart again? What happens if you two realize that you can’t forgive each other? I can’t keep picking up your pieces and putting them back together. Glass can only break so many times before the shards turn into dust.”
He hated that his sister—his friend—was throwing his past in his face. Even if she was doing it because she loved him. She was protective of him and all her siblings… perhaps to a fault.
“You’re just going to have to let me make my mistakes, Ronnie. I remember another teenager who needed a helping hand to superglue herself back together.”
Her eyes flashed… anger, sadness, embarrassment. He wasn’t sure which. “Fine. You’re right,” she said, stepping back and holding her hands up in surrender. “It’s your heart to break.”
Noah’s hand fell to his shoulder with a light squeeze. “Well, I guess I have my answer about why that panic attack happened.”
“That’s not why—”
“Therapy. You promised,” Noah interrupted as Ma came running over.
She pulled Noah into a hug. “Little Boy Blue. I’ve missed you.”
Steve left his mother to catch up with his youngest brother and moved toward the bar where Yvonne and Kyra were giggling. As he came up behind her, there was a strong smell of alcohol surrounding them.
The moment his hand touched her arm, she swiveled around on her barstool. He caught her around the waist, steadying her as she nearly slid off. Her nose brushed against his and her eyes lit up. Any bit of concern that may have been stirring about her getting drunk dissolved faster than a grain of sugar in steaming hot coffee. “Steve!” she said, the breath gushing across his face, and he felt the smile curve on his lips.
Wow. Yep, that was definitely some alcohol. “You’re drunk,” he said, stating the obvious, then looked at Kyra. “How many has she had?”
“Only two…” Kyra paused, lifting the glass in front of her. “And a half.”
He brushed his nose up her jaw, landing his lips just below her ear and giving a little nip. “Lightweight.”
“You’re an hour late,” she responded, and he felt her shiver travel through her body, quaking against him.
“I know. I’m sorry—family stuff.”
Cam and Lydia approached, hand in hand, making their rounds with friends and family.
“Great party, guys,” Kyra said. “Well, all except the bartender.”
Lydia pulled Steve in for a hug. “I’m glad you could make it. Thanks for picking up Noah for us.”
“What’s wrong with Nick?” Cam asked, looking up to the other end of the bar where Nick Forrester was refilling wine.
“He’s a big jerk, that’s what,” Kyra said.
Yvonne started giggling. “He called her out for not saying please, and now she thinks he’s the world’s biggest asshole.”
“It’s not just tonight. He’s always rude.”
“Or are you always rude to him?” Steve asked.
Kyra snapped her head in his direction, steeling him with a look that should be registered as a deadly weapon. Pointing a finger in his face, she said, “You should be nice to me. I’m one of your only allies when it comes to this one.” She took that same finger and swept it over to Yvonne, whose giggles turned indignant.
Cam’s grunt was quiet, but Steve noticed it, all the same.
“Well, consider me an ally too,” Lydia said, smiling at Yvonne. “I’m glad you were able to come tonight.”
Yvonne shook her half-empty glass, the ice clinking the sides. “You should try the Limoncello. It’s super delicious, but it’s super strong too. So be careful.”
“It’s not that strong,” Kyra said. “You just have the world’s worst tolerance.”
As Yvonne raised the glass to her lips, Steve intercepted it, setting it back down on the counter. “How about a little water first?” he suggested.
She looked down at her half empty glass and nodded. “I was only biding time until you got here, anyway,” she said as Nick slid a glass of water toward her.
Steve laughed and kissed the tip of her nose. He shifted a glance at Cam and Lydia, who were now involved in another conversation with Kyra. The hand that had been resting gently on the back of her chair moved hungrily, stroking the back of her neck with a calculated precision, a preamble to what was to come. She shuddered and he saw her crossed legs clench tighter together at the knees. “Besides, I want you to be able to stand upright when I get you home,” he whispered in her ear.
Goosebumps chased from the top of her shoulder down her arms. “You want me standing?”
“Standing, sitting, on your back, on your knees… I want you every way I can get you, Eve. Twice.” His voice was rough, but he couldn’t help it. Especially not when she stared at his mouth like that.
He kissed her through his smile, unable to hold it back. He was grinning like an idiot with Yvonne’s lips pressed to his and he knew it. But he didn’t bother trying to hide how happy she made him. Normally, he was gruff. But not with Eve. With Yvonne, he was a different man—a better man.
She curved her arm around the back of his neck, her skin warm and soft as it glided along the top of his shoulders. “Sounds like I’m in for a long night.”
“You have no idea.”
‡
Chapter Twenty-Six
They didn’t stay too long at the party. Another hour and one more Limoncello—which she sipped between waters, Girl Scouts’ honor. Even though she was tipsy, Yvonne wasn’t that far gone to not notice the glaring looks Ronnie was shooting at her. Warning looks. Warning looks that she couldn’t process… and not because she’d had one more Limoncello than she probably should have. Looks that truly in the deepest part of her guts made that guilt that she’d carried around since the accident surface. The vehemence with which Ronnie still clung to made the knot twist deeper in her stomach. She accepted her part of the responsibility for the car accident. His face, his beautiful face was scarred forever partly because of her. If Steve could forgive her, why couldn’t Ronnie?
She wished Steve would have talked to her thirteen years ago before ending things. Talked to her rather than running away. In her alcohol fogged brain, memories whispered somewhere in the back of her mind as Yvonne thought hard, recalling details of the past that she had long buried and for years had forced herself not to think about. Was it more than just her part in the accident that caused him to walk away? Had she said something? Done something to push him away?
They stopped walking and Yvonne blinked, realizing they’d reached his car. His hands fell to her ribs, his thumbs brushing in circles just beneath her breasts. The breeze off the lake was a cool reprieve from the warm summer days and with it brought goose bumps to her body. “Crap. Kyra has my cardigan.” She brushed her palms over her arms. There was a soft rustle and Steve quickly had his jacket off and around her shoulders.
“Better?” he asked.
Stars twinkled above them like a broken string of jewels flung across inky silk.
Suddenly, her heart was racing. “Steve, can I ask you something? Ronnie mentioned—”
A low laugh gushed out of him, his warm breath a nice shift from the chilled evening air. That was the thing about New England. Even in the summer, one moment it could be sweltering hot and that same evening you might need a sweatshirt. “Can we please not talk about my sister when my palm is this dangerously close to your breast?” His thumbs moved back and forth, stroking the upper area of her ribs.
“She just got me thinking—did I do something… or say something years ago to make you pull away from me?” Her voice was hoarse, concern blocking her throat.
His smile faded, as did any color in his cheeks. “Let’s not do this right now.”
That was all the answer she needed. She didn’t know what she’d done, but there was something. Some sort of catalyst that had been the reason he’d left her. She wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol or the effects of him standing so close to her, but her brain was foggy and she couldn’t for the life of her remember doing anything to warrant him walking out like he had. “Steve—”
He moved into her, claiming her mouth. “I like when you say my name like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like you’re going to swat my ass with a newspaper and put me in my crate.”
He pressed his face into her neck and shifted his hand up, his suit jacket hiding the moment when his palm connected with her breast, squeezing her through the light cotton.
He nipped her ear lightly, and she gasped, moving her palm down the front of his pants. He was hard and his hips pulsed, pushing himself harder against her hand before catching her wrist, his thumb sliding over her throbbing pulse at the base. She should have been cold, but her body felt like it was on fire. And judging from the way he was looking at her, she could guess he felt the same way.
With a quick look around the parking lot, she felt h
is fingers land on the insides of her thigh. Tortuously slowly, he drifted them higher and higher beneath her dress. “Did you forego the panties?”
“Yes, but not because you asked. Because I wanted to—” Her sentence ended with a breathy whimper as he stroked her with a finger, dipping it into her wet sex.
“A simple ‘yes’ would have sufficed.” He peppered soft, wet kisses along her throat and dipped his tongue into her ear.
His fingers quickened against her clit, and she was already devastatingly close to orgasm as she arched into his hand. With a shudder, she spread her legs a little wider as Steve set a rhythm that so perfectly matched what she needed, all thoughts and concerns cleared her mind. “I want you so bad,” she said, rocking her body against him. So bad that it terrified her.
Her grip tightened on his biceps until she was gulping for air in shaky breaths. Her legs straightened, abs tightening, and her toes curled as the spasms took hold of her body. With her hand around the back of his neck, she jerked his mouth to hers, spearing her tongue into his mouth as she ground her hips. The strong pulses eased into smaller quivers, finally dissipating entirely. After a few moments that ticked by too fast for her liking, she tried to straighten her skirt, embarrassed at how disheveled she looked. Not to Steve… no, but what if someone else walked out? Sure, their lower halves were blocked by other cars, but you never knew in this town who could be watching.
There was still an ache deep inside of her. She pulsed for him. Needed to feel Steve inside of her. Her eyes cut to the back seat and she wet her lips before looking back to him. “Please tell me you brought a condom?”
His eyes glinted, and even though she knew his eyes so well—had that pale blue color memorized—his gaze looked as black as the inky sky. “I’ve got one. But we’re not using it, not here.”
Healing You Page 19
