Do Me a Favor: A second chance, hilarious rom com! (Mile High Matched Book 4)

by Christina Hovland

  “Where’s the triple sec?” he asked, completely serious.

  Sadie made a strangled sound in the back of her throat. She couldn’t let him win like this. Not when she was so turned on that she could barely stand. “Second shelf.”

  His smile. Oh goodness. He dropped his fingertip and stepped away.

  Instead of doing the smart thing and backing away, Sadie doubled down. Anyone could walk in at any time, but she didn’t care. She slid her fingertip into the loop of his jeans and pulled him forward half a centimeter.

  It was his turn to make a strangled noise in his throat.

  Sadie smiled her best cat-is-so-totally-going-to-get-her-cream smile.

  The air between them electrified, and Roman’s gaze grew expectant.

  “Now we need the blackberries,” Sadie said as sultry as she could manage.

  Roman tossed his head back and laughed.

  For the first time in forever, Sadie did the same.

  “You want to take me home later?” Roman asked like that was actually a possibility.

  Yes, less than a minute prior, Sadie had been ready to jump him in Eli’s kitchen, but that was because he’d messed with her head. She was now back to being reasonable, so, “No.”

  “What if I told you Babushka let all the air out of my tires again?”

  “I’d say she’s my client, so I’ll need to consult with her about the accusation.”

  “What if I just told you that I had drinks at Brek’s Bar, so Brek drove me here?”

  “That would be more believable. And from my understanding, your cellular device was returned when it was discovered and the air was, in fact, refilled before you returned.”

  “I’d like to point out that my cell was discovered by you.”

  “Details.” Sadie waved her hand.

  There was no playfulness in his demeanor at all. “Details are important, Sadie.”

  Suddenly, he was all serious, and his seriousness made her chest feel tight. This, right here, was why she had to be more vigilant.

  “I have popcorn and Reese’s Pieces,” he said, quickly changing topics.

  Her breath caught. Okay, maybe she could take him home. The last time she’d had chocolate-coated peanut butter candies and popcorn was in a movie theater with Roman.

  Her salivary glands seemed to be working overtime.

  He remembered.

  Remembered how she’d liked her popcorn.

  She prided herself on her ability to teach her brain to recall details and fine print. It came in extra handy when she had a divorcee bending their reality and twisting the truth. Sadie excelled at catching the little lies so she could bend them back in the favor of her client.

  People didn’t usually remember much about her though. Not the little things.

  “Like I said.” Gently, ever, ever so gently, he said, “Details are important.”

  The moment hung between them like time hadn’t moved at all. They were still the same two people they’d been all those years ago. Sadie glanced away, but she couldn’t help it—she was a glutton for Roman—so she slid her gaze back to him.

  Roman had not looked away.

  Why did that make Sadie’s stomach tighten the knots she’d been living with since they saw each other last?

  Roman lightly pressed his palm against the small of her back, drawing her back to reality. “I know you’re not ready right now, but when you are, I’ll be here.”

  The touch wasn’t intrusive. It didn’t seem to be a claiming gesture. What it was? It seemed like Roman knew she was lost in her own mind and he was pulling her free.

  “How many batches do we need to make?” His hand trailed along her shirt before he shoved it in his pocket.

  She missed his touch immediately. She swallowed against the lump forming in her throat. “I think we should do two or three.”

  He nodded and went back to measuring spirits.

  The filter she’d gotten so used to in her life—the one that made everything seem foggy—started to drift down like the final curtain at the Denver Center for Performing Arts. It was normal for her to embrace the fog, but this time, she didn’t want that to happen.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Roman had just been one of the girls that night, hanging out with Anna, Heather, and Sadie—Marlee had headed home with Luke earlier in the night. Brek had made last call and Eli’d sent them all home so he could head home, too.

  Sadie was now pulling into the parking lot of his apartment complex. From the passenger seat, he drank her in.

  Roman understood true beauty.

  It wasn’t the supermodel in front of a white wall with loads of cameras around her. No, true beauty was silence on a battlefield. True beauty was that thing film and Louise couldn’t capture but tried.

  True beauty was emotion.

  True beauty was Sadie.

  “Thanks for the lift,” he said.

  Sadie maneuvered into a parking spot. “No problem.”

  “I had a good time tonight.” Roman turned in his seat to better face her. “Who knew girls’ night was so fun?”

  She smiled. “You were an interesting addition to our evening.”

  The glow of the streetlamp created a halo of light in Sadie’s sedan. He reached for her and trailed his fingertip across her cheek.

  “C’mon, I’ll walk you in,” Sadie said, her words breathy, breaking the tether in time holding them there.

  She was already halfway out the driver’s side. “You’re such a gentleman,” he muttered.

  “I so am,” Sadie said.

  Neither of them said anything else on the walk to the stairwell that led to his front door.

  Sadie kept pace with him, locked tight in her own mind.

  “Do you want to come in?” He slipped his key in the lock and turned it.

  “I shouldn’t.” She crossed her arms over her breasts, an internal war playing across her expression.

  If she came in, it had to be because she wanted to and not because he encouraged her to.

  “Can I call you tomorrow?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  He pushed open the door. “Will you answer when I call you tomorrow?”

  “Maybe.”

  He chuckled. “I’ve missed you, nohchnaya babachka.”

  “Maybe you should stop calling me a prostitute.” Sadie headed straight into his apartment like she’d been there before. He’d definitely remember if she’d been there before.

  His sister and mother had taken over his apartment after he signed the lease. They’d painted the walls gray and bought a kickass blue sofa with red pillows that didn’t make sense to him. But they were comfortable, so he dealt with it.

  Sadie walked into the kitchen and searched his cupboards. What was she looking for? He had no idea. He dropped to the sofa in the living room, sprawling out and keeping his eyes on her.

  “Glasses?” she finally asked.

  “Right of the sink.”

  “Seriously?” she asked.

  Um. “Yeah.”

  “Glasses go to the left of the sink. Unless you’re left-handed, then they could go on the right. But that wouldn’t make sense, because then you’d have to move the plates to the bottom cabinets, and everyone knows plates go on top.”

  She’d lost him in the mess of her argument somewhere around plates and bottom cabinets.

  With two full glasses of water, she walked to him, handed him one, and sat beside him on the sofa.

  He held his glass, waiting to see what she was going to do. This was her show. He’d let her call the shots.

  She took a sip of water and placed her glass on the wooden coffee table. He should find coasters and set them out. Sadie seemed like a woman who appreciated coasters.

  She was also a woman who was presently running her hands along his pecs and up and over his shoulders. He set his water glass next to hers and turned toward her.

  “You want this?” he asked, gripping her waist and carefully pulling her to
him.

  She nodded. “I do.”

  “Whatever you want, it’s yours.” He kissed her temple and trailed more kisses along her jawline.

  She arched into him and fused her mouth with his, taking their make-out session from tender to intense in less than four seconds.

  He didn’t hold back, but he didn’t push forward either. He let her set the pace of their hands, tongues. He followed her lead. She toyed with the edge of his shirt, that war inside her becoming apparent once again.

  There was a lesson he’d learned early when it came to war. Everyone thought a war was about how hard you fought, but a good solider understood that war was about so much more than that. Winning a war was about understanding your comrades. Staying in tune with the developments. Anticipating, but being flexible.

  So when Sadie lightened the intensity, he followed her back down, ending the hottest kiss of his life with a peck on the side of her mouth. “Call me when you get home?”

  “Is this your ploy to get me to return your call?” Her hand paused against his chest.

  “I just want to be sure you make it okay.” That was the truth.

  “I’ll text you when I get home.”

  She drove a hard bargain. “I can live with that.”

  She left and Roman sucked down another gulp of water, balanced the glass on his chest, and closed his eyes. Only for a little bit. He’d head to his actual bed as soon as he got the message that she’d made it home.

  “Rome?” Sadie pounded on the door.

  He sat up entirely too quickly, water spilling all over the front of his shirt.

  “Rome?” Sadie pounded more. She didn’t sound like Sweet Sadie. No, she sounded like Pissed-as-All-Hell Sadie. What had he done?

  He opened the door, and yup, there was one pissed-off Sadie.

  “There is no air in my tires,” she said as though she were accusing him, even though he knew for a fact that he hadn’t moved from the couch until that very moment.

  “I swear I didn’t leave the apartment—”

  “I know you didn’t leave. Where’s your grandmother?”

  “Uh…”

  Sadie made a gurgle sound.

  “Here’s what we’re going to do.” Roman waved her inside again. “Since it’s three a.m., you can stay here.” Problem solved. He was a grown-ass adult with his very own bed and sofa and lots of surfaces for friends to sleep on.

  She glowered. “Isn’t that exactly what your grandmother wants? A sleepover?”

  “Probably.” This had the scent of Babushka all over it. “But we’ll show her.”

  “How’s that?’

  “We won’t even have sex.”

  Sadie’s lips parted. “I don’t even know what to do with you right now.”

  “I’ll show you the bedroom. You can pretend like I’m not even here. I’ll sleep on the couch. We’ll get brand new fancy air for your tires as soon as the air place is open.”

  Sadie shook her head, but the edges of her mouth twitched with a smile.

  He walked down the small hallway to the bedroom, flicked on the light, and thanked fuck he’d made his bed that morning.

  He rummaged through his dresser, coming up with a pair of drawstring sweatpants and a T-shirt. He handed them to Sadie and grabbed a new—not wet—tee for himself.

  The soaked cotton shirt removed, he started to yank the dry shirt on.

  Sadie sucked in a loud breath. “Wait.”

  Shirt stuck in limbo with one arm in, one arm out, he paused as Sadie stared at his bare chest like she wanted to lick every spare inch of him.

  Right. So he should have gone in the other room to change.

  Or maybe not.

  What was going on? He wasn’t sure.

  She held the clothes against her chest like a shield. Her confidence was clearly shaken. Still, she stepped forward and laid her palm against his bare chest. “Rome—”

  He dropped the shirt to the floor, running his fingertip along the bridge of Sadie’s nose. She purred and turned so her cheek was in his palm.

  “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known.” He stroked at her temple.

  “Now you’re just trying to get in my pants.” She pressed her lips against the flesh near his thumb.

  A chuckle slipped from his lips. “Legit, I am trying to get in your pants.”

  “Nice, Rome,” she said it like she was going to back away. When the moment came for her to step back—when the moment came for him to release his hold on her—she didn’t move. Instead, she stepped closer to him, letting the clothes she’d been holding in her arms fall to the ground next to his shirts.

  His body flamed as she went about tracing his pecs with the pads of her fingertips, using the slightest pressure from her fingernails as she trailed over his nipples.

  It was his turn to suck in a breath.

  “The fact that I want in your pants has nothing to do with the beauty of who you are.” He swallowed, the trail of her gaze settling on his throat.

  “You should probably stop talking and do the pants thing,” she said.

  He raised an eyebrow. She was serious?

  He stepped closer, threading a hand through her hair. She’d worn her hair down that night. Thank fuck she’d worn it down. He loved her hair. Loved running his hand through the strands.

  “Sadie, you’re perfection,” he whispered.

  He dropped his mouth to press a kiss to her lips. He did this lightly, not wanting to spook her with the intensity of what he felt.

  Her pert mouth parted. The tongue he knew to be oh so very pink touched the tip of his.

  Pulse thrumming in his temples, he deepened the kiss—tongue in her mouth, hands in her hair…everything he could pour into her in a kiss.

  God, he’d missed her. He’d known it on a visceral level, but experiencing all that was Sadie again? It was like he hadn’t had a sip of water in a century, and with the smallest tap of her lips against his, she managed to quench the thirst he’d tried to forget.

  With his thigh between her legs, he shuffled her backward against the wall. Sadie made a small mewing sound of pleasure that made him so hard he thought he’d burst right out of his fly. “I need to tell you some things.”

  “Don’t talk, Rome. Just let it be what it’s going to be.” She pressed against him.

  He wanted that, but he also had some very specific requirements for what they would be.

  Sadie melted into his kiss.

  Yeah, he grunted. It happened. He grunted because he was apparently part caveman and the woman he wanted to claim was currently thrusting her tongue against his.

  “Rome,” she whispered against his mouth.

  “Sadie,” he said in reply.

  And then, for the first time in a decade, Sadie Howard opened herself to him. He felt the shift inside her, even if it was just her mouth. Even if it was just for now. Even if it was something she wasn’t certain she wanted to give him long-term. He’d take it. Take the now. Take the promise of a certain future. Take the hope of forever.

  And he took it.

  His erection pressed against her belly, their tongues melded against each other, and the years fell away. Mouth to mouth, chest to chest. His breaths came quicker and his pulse beat unevenly—rough and in time with the small sounds she made in the back of her throat.

  Sadie pulled at his waistband, unzipping and pulling him free.

  Yes, please. Sadie was all in. He was totally on board with this turn of events.

  She raised her arms so that he could pull the shirt over her head. In just her bra, she practically climbed him like he was Pike’s Peak.

  Yeah, he was on board with an unleashed Sadie.

  Damn, he’d missed this lack of restraint that he knew she could have once she just let go for five seconds. Or thirty minutes. Or all night—he planned on keeping this party going all night. What was left of it anyway.

  Here’s the thing. He was a guy. He was a guy with a pretty massive hard-on. He wa
s a guy with the woman of his goddamned dreams grinding her sweet, sweet core against his thigh. He was a guy who was making pretty feral noises that he had no control over.

  But he was also a guy who needed to ensure she understood this wasn’t a one-up. A fling. A no-big-deal if he doesn’t call her in the morning.

  Because, oh, he’d be calling her.

  “You’re thinking really loud.” She dropped to her knees in front of him, pulled his jeans down to his thighs, and rolled his blue Hanes boxer-briefs down around his thighs.

  His dick was totally all in on this gig. Pleased as all punch that Sadie was going to take care of him. But the problem with being Roman in that moment? He was using his brain. The one in his skull, not his pants.

  This was a big deal. This was it for him. She had to know that. He wanted to ensure she made no mistake—he was in this for more than a weekend. Therefore, he wasn’t going to do this on the floor or against the wall. And she wasn’t going to be the one to do the going down. No. He needed some place where he could take his time. Show her all the billions of reasons why they belonged together.

  This was about her. About showing her that he was all in. Roman had to do his best to show Sadie that she was it.

  He pulled her to her feet, kissing the air out of her, crushing his mouth to hers.

  Tonight was about everything. His world. The woman he’d missed more than a breath of clean air on a battlefield that smelled of artillery.

  So he broke the kiss. The lips his mouth had crushed down on parted in clear concern.

  “Rome?” Sadie asked, confused. Her forehead bunched together adorably.

  “Shh.” He ran the tip of his nose along the edge of hers. “We’re just doing this slow.”

  “Did I mess up?” she asked against his mouth.

  The cautious way she said it. The sincerity of the words.

  Fuck. That’s what she thought? She’d dropped to her knees and went at his fly like he was the water she’d been craving for a century.

  No, she hadn’t messed up.

  She’d been the furthest thing from messing up.

  “Sadie.” He moved so she had a full view of his face. “You don’t ever mess anything up.”