Walk the Line

by J. Kenner

  He felt his cock grow hard, and knew from the slight twitch of her eyebrow that she felt it, too. But he swallowed then shook his head a little. "We don't have to, babe. There will be other nights when the house is empty. I know you're upset, and--"

  She hushed him with a finger to his lips. "I am. I'm upset and I'm worried and I'm angry. But right now, I just want you to make me forget."

  He met her eyes and held her gaze. Then he leaned in, claiming her mouth with his as he slipped his hand inside her skirt, then slowly traced the elastic of her panties before slipping his finger inside the crotch--and swallowing a moan of pleasure and satisfaction at finding her absolutely soaked.

  "Make me forget, Brent. Make me forget everything except you."

  It was a demand he wouldn't dream of declining, and he teased her through the panties, making her even wetter, until he couldn't stand it anymore, and he had to feel her bare skin. "Take them off," he ordered. "Then unfasten my belt and my jeans."

  She grinned, then stood up only long enough to strip off her panties. Then she did as he'd said and focused on the fly of his jeans and his belt. "Lift your hips," she ordered, and he complied, letting her pull them down, then toeing off his shoes so she could pull the jeans and boxers all the way off.

  "I like that," she said, seeing how hard he was. She gave him a seductive look, then with no warning went onto her knees and took him in her mouth.

  He groaned, the warm heat of her mouth on his cock driving him crazy. She licked his shaft, alternating licks with sucks, and as she did, she also played with his balls, pushing him right up to the edge, so much so that he couldn't take it any longer. He grasped her head, then guided her motions, amazed and thrilled that she could take him deep, so deep he was amazed he didn't come right then.

  Except that wasn't what he wanted. He wanted to be inside her. He wanted to see her face.

  "Come here," he said, and she didn't hesitate. She met his eyes, saw what he wanted and climbed onto his lap. He'd had a condom in his pocket earlier, and now it was on the couch--thank God he'd intended to fuck her hard tonight--and he quickly sheathed himself. "Ride me, baby. I don't want to wait. I want you on my lap and my cock inside you."

  "Me, too," she said, with such sincerity it almost wrecked him. And then, when she straddled him, her pussy taking in just his tip, he really was afraid he'd lose it.

  But he held on, and she impaled herself on him. And together they found the rhythm. Her rising and falling, him guiding her speed and angle with his hands on her hips, until they'd found a perfect rhythm. Until they'd become one. Until they were spiraling up to the heavens together.

  Until, finally, they both exploded, shattering in each other's arms before crashing back down to earth and his house and his couch.

  Later, when they'd regained their senses, they curled up together under a blanket. "I'm going to take the rest of the week off," he said. "I finalized the hire of the rest of my team before you got there today. Tyree and the other guys can get them rolling," he added, referring to the other part-time member of his security crew.

  "How come? So you can try to track down the taggers?"

  "That," he admitted. "Plus, since Faith has these two days off, I figure I can stay home with her. Maybe work on that playhouse in the backyard. It's getting a little ratty looking."

  "That sounds good," she said. "But why don't we take her out? The children's museum is fun. Or Innerspace Caverns up in Georgetown. I need to go there to look around the square for my thesis, anyway." The town just north of Austin was host to a series of beautiful underground caverns that had been opened to the public years ago. And the town itself had been founded in the eighteen hundreds and had a charming town square that surrounded the original courthouse.

  "Oh, baby, I don't know. I don't want Faith to get her hopes up about you and me."

  She shook her head, her expression almost a grimace. "I don't think that would happen. She knows you have female friends. Why would she even be thinking of us as a couple?"

  The question made his gut twist, but he forced himself to ignore it. They weren't a couple; they couldn't be a couple. And now more than ever, it was clear that she'd end up moving away.

  "Brent?"

  "You're right," he said. "We should take her out."

  He drew a breath, steeling himself for the upcoming day. Because while an outing with the three of them might not get Faith's hopes up, he knew damn well that he was risking getting his own hopes up.

  Chapter Twelve

  "Look Elena! I'm painting with light!"

  "That's incredible," Elena said, smiling over at Brent, who looked ridiculously proud of his daughter. They were in The Thinkery, a new incarnation of the Austin Children's Museum that none of the three of them had visited before. It was, however, a hit with Faith, who'd checked out every exhibit possible, and even played on the backyard climbing structures.

  "One more time, and then we have to go," Brent told her.

  "More, Daddy, please?"

  He chuckled. "You already got to stay through lunch. Do you want Elena and me to starve?"

  She pouted, but didn't argue, and a few moments later she bounced over to them, took each of their hands, and half-walked, half-hung like a monkey as they navigated their way to the exit.

  "Hungry!" she announced as soon as they were outside.

  "Let's hit Magnolia," Brent suggested. "There's plenty on the menu she'll eat."

  "Plenty I'll eat, too," Elena said, her mouth already watering for gingerbread pancakes.

  "Can we play again tomorrow?" Faith asked, after they were seated.

  Brent caught Elena's eye. "You still want company for your research trip to Georgetown?"

  "I think that sounds great."

  "Yay!" Faith started clapping. "And can Elena come over for dinner tonight? And can we watch Tangled?"

  "Yes to dinner," Brent said, "assuming Elena wants to."

  "She does," Elena said, making him smile.

  "But it's going to be late," he told Faith. "And you're going to be tired. So probably no movie."

  "I won't be tired," she said, her voice as serious as a six-year-old could manage. "I'm a big girl now."

  "True," Brent said, and like a good dad he didn't remind her later how wrong she was when she fell asleep on the couch only ten short minutes after they'd finished dinner.

  "Go take her to bed," Elena said. "I'll clean up."

  "Sounds like a deal." He came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and kissing her. "I could get used to this," he said, and she tried very hard not to stiffen in his arms. Because the truth was, she could get used to it, too. But she didn't want to hope. Especially since they'd been so adult about the whole relationship, acknowledging from the inception that it had to be a temporary thing, because she would be leaving.

  But what if she didn't have to leave? What if the consulting firm that was courting her had dozens of employees who telecommuted? What if she'd told them that she was only interested in the job if she was among that group?

  And what if they'd said yes?

  She'd had that conversation yesterday, though she hadn't told Brent. And she didn't intend to. Not yet. Not until it came up naturally. They were still too new. But she was sure--hell she'd never been more sure about anything, or anybody.

  She just didn't know if he felt the same.

  By the time he came back from reading to Faith, the kitchen was clean. They turned on the television for camouflage noise, then headed back to his room where they made love slowly and sweetly before she settled against him, exhausted from the day and yet energized by the man.

  She liked falling asleep with him, but she liked waking up with him even more. Especially on a day like this when they woke up early and showered together. "Oh, no," she said, when he tried to lead her back to bed. "Long day working on my thesis, remember? And playing in Georgetown."

  She was right about the long day, too. They alternated between touring the square's
historic buildings and taking Faith to places that would amuse her, like the toy shop on the square and the massive park located adjacent to the San Gabriel River. They didn't go to Blue Hole, a local swimming destination, because they hadn't planned ahead with swimsuits. But Faith didn't seem to mind. She was having too much fun playing with the kite they'd bought her on the square and eating a cookie she'd begged for from a local coffee shop.

  While Elena watched Faith feed the ducks some stale bread they'd bought from a nearby convenience store, Brent checked in with Landon about the progress of the investigation.

  "Anything?" she asked when he settled in next to her.

  "Unfortunately, no. Still nothing on the video feeds. And the interviews with nearby employees--waiters, valets, people like that--haven't turned up a thing. Landon's going to assign a detective to interview the homeless, but I'm not holding my breath." He met her eyes. "I think it may be a dead end."

  "There has to be a way. If we can't figure it out, my dad's going to have no defense. He'll lose his business. Your business."

  "Don't you think I know that?"

  She sagged. "I'm sorry. I know you're doing everything you can. I'm just worried."

  "I know you are. I am, too. And not just about the business. I worry about you as well."

  "Yeah?"

  He held her chin and brushed a kiss over her nose. "Yeah. The new cameras are being installed at The Fix today. I'm sending them to your apartment, too. No argument."

  "Not making one," she said.

  "Good." He hooked an arm around her shoulder. "I want to keep you safe."

  And from a man like Brent, she thought, that was almost like saying he loved her.

  Elena and Brent spent the next seven days together, waking up beside each other at his place, then taking Faith to school together before simply hanging out until it was time to pick her up and for Brent to go to work. On the days he didn't go in to The Fix, the three of them often stayed in, cooked dinner, and simply hung out, usually with a children's program on in the background while Elena worked on her thesis and Brent continued to pursue the tagger.

  They'd finally stopped trying to hide Elena's presence, but they still didn't tell Faith that Brent and Elena were dating. For that matter, Elena wasn't entirely sure they were dating. She thought so--she hoped so--but she wasn't sure.

  Instead, they told Faith that Elena was having work done at her place, so she was staying at Brent and Faith's house. They kept a blanket and pillow on the couch, but even if Faith realized that Elena was in Brent's bed, she doubted that the little girl would think much of it.

  The days passed quickly, and whenever Elena went out on her own, her biggest thrill of the day was walking back through those doors. She'd told Selma and Hannah, but only because they'd pried the truth out of her during lunchtime cocktails one day.

  "It's real," Selma said. "I mean, you've practically got serious stamped on your forehead."

  "I do, sure," Elena agreed. "But I still don't know where Brent stands."

  "Here's an idea," Hannah said. "Ask him."

  Elena shot her friend a level look. "Thanks for the tip. I'm working my way up to that." Because if she was wrong, it was all over. She knew that, and she really wasn't ready for it to end.

  As if she'd read her mind, Selma put her hand on Elena's shoulder. "It's gonna be fine. The guy's wild about you."

  "I've never doubted that," she admitted. "I'm just not sure with Brent if that's going to be enough."

  That worry was still on her mind when she swung by The Fix to check on the plans for the Food Fair. Megan and Jenna were the true masterminds behind the event but Elena and Tyree were putting together most of the dishes for The Fix's table by themselves, and running a series of cooking videos on the screen behind their station. She trusted Megan and Jenna, but she still wanted to double-check.

  And, besides, that gave her the chance to peek at Brent, and that was never a bad thing. Even though they were still keeping their relationship secret, he flashed a smile at her the moment she walked through the doors. The kind of smile that made her panties damp and promised all sorts of decadent delights come evening.

  He was with Tyree, and Elena saw the way her dad looked at him--and the bland way that Brent looked back, neither acknowledging or denying.

  She took that as a good sign. Because if Brent was willing to let Tyree get even a hint of a clue that he and Elena were involved, then that had to mean it was serious to him, too.

  The thought put a little extra bounce in her step as she headed toward her dad.

  "Hi, Daddy. Hi, Brent."

  He grinned. "Hi, yourself."

  She kept her hands at her sides, fighting the urge to reach for him. "I was just checking in about the fair," she told Tyree. "It's already Thursday, so Saturday is pretty much here. I'm sure Megan and Jenna are ready, but are we? Any more videos to make? Food to prep? You have servers to work our table?"

  Her dad chuckled. "This isn't my first time at the rodeo, mon bijou. Your work is done. All you have to do is come on Saturday and enjoy yourself."

  "Yeah?"

  "And taste the competition's food," he added in a stage whisper. "Gotta know if anyone outshines us."

  "Never," she said loyally, then glanced over at Brent. Not because he was part of the conversation, but because she simply couldn't be that close to him and not look at him. "Right. Um, well, okay. I'm going to go run some errands, then."

  She leaned forward and pressed a quick kiss to Tyree's cheek. Then she very sternly forced herself not to kiss Brent, as well.

  "I wanted to kiss you today."

  Brent's words came out of the blue, filling the post-coital silence as they both lay silent and sated after thoroughly exhausting each other.

  Elena rolled over, propping herself up on an elbow so that she could see him better. "I think you kissed me a lot," she teased. "And in a lot of very interesting places."

  "Funny," he said. "You know what I mean. At The Fix. With your dad."

  "Yeah. I know." She met his eyes. "I wanted the same thing."

  "Someday," he said, his voice thick with sleep. He took her hand and pulled it to her lips, then kissed her fingertips. "Goodnight, babe," he said, before drifting off.

  She kept looking at him, amused. He could do that, just fall off into sleep as easily as stepping off a curb. Not her. Her thoughts kept her awake most nights, and this night was going to be full-on insomnia, but of the best possible kind. Because the thought that filled her mind was the question of what he meant by someday.

  At the moment, she could only think of good things. And she closed her eyes, smiled, and tried to imagine when exactly someday might be.

  She was pondering Christmas when she heard the wail. At first she didn't recognize it. Then it hit her that the pitiful cry was coming from Faith's room. She whipped off the sheet, grabbed her robe, and raced down the hall.

  The little girl was sitting up in bed, only half-awake, tears streaming down her face.

  "Hey! Faith, sweetie, it's okay. I'm here." She hurried to the bed, then climbed on, hugging Faith close to her. "I've got you," she promised as the little girl sobbed against her.

  She hiccupped and coughed and slowly calmed down. And then, wrapping her arms tight around Elena's neck, she said, "Mommy."

  The word sent a golden spark of pleasure bouncing through her--only to go cold and gray when she turned to see Brent standing in the doorway, his face flat and his eyes empty.

  Mommy.

  But she wasn't Mommy yet. And in Brent's world, mommies left.

  She knew him. Knew the way he thought. Knew his fears about Faith getting attached only to have her heart broken.

  Most of all, she knew that this moment was the beginning of the end.

  Chapter Thirteen

  It was all right there in front of him. Everything he craved. Everything he loved.

  Everything he was afraid of.

  And blinking like a red beacon in the middle of
it all was Faith.

  Faith.

  At the end of the day, she was all that mattered. This wasn't about him. It wasn't about Elena. It was about Faith. About his little girl. A girl whose mommy had walked out on her, and who only had her father now to protect her. To keep the pain at bay. The hurt of being left. Abandoned.

  He'd taken on that role when he'd gotten Olivia pregnant, and he'd renewed the commitment the moment Faith had been put in his arms.

  And as much as he wanted Elena--and, oh Christ, he wanted her--he'd sworn never to put Faith in that position again. Never to even risk it.

  Elena had known that going into this affair. He had, too.

  And he should never have let either of them fall as deep as they had.

  "Brent," she said when Faith was finally tucked back in and they'd returned to the living room, both of them knowing by unspoken consent that they couldn't return to his bedroom. Not together, anyway.

  It was the first word they'd said to each other since he'd found her and Faith on the bed, and it seemed to hang in the room like a warning. Because, damn him, he wanted to answer her. Wanted to respond not just to his name, but to that tone. A tone that said that she was with him. That she was his.

  But he couldn't trust it. How the hell could he trust it when he already knew that she was talking with companies on the west coast for jobs when she graduated in two years?

  And wouldn't that be great? Two years of getting closer to Faith and then, wham, bam, boom, there she goes.

  No.

  No way in hell was he doing that to his daughter.

  "Brent," she said again. "Listen to me."

  "I'm sorry, Elena. I'm so damn sorry, but we both knew this wasn't permanent."

  "Maybe I want it to be." She looked defiantly into his eyes, and his heart twisted as his resolve weakened. But no. No.

  He drew in a breath. "It's not about what you want. Hell, it's not about what I want. It's not even about what Faith wants. It's about what's best for her. And Elena, that's not you. It can't be you, because we both know you're going away."

  "No," she said earnestly, "I'm not." She drew in a breath and pressed her fingers to her temples before perching on the edge of the sofa, looking a bit like a lost little girl herself in the old robe of his that he'd given her.