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All The Wrong Reasons: A Serendipity Falls Novel

Page 7

by Erin Bevan


  Tami rolled her eyes. Tom had no more control over who won the election for mayor as he did the weather outside.

  “I don’t think you have to worry.” Tami placated her husband by patting him on the cheek. “Max would go to the ends of the earth for our Alex. I know it. Just like you would for me.”

  And that was the truth. Tom loved his family to the deep, depths of his soul, as Max did Alex.

  “Hey. Umm…” Tom put his fork down and placed a hand on Tami’s leg, running it up the length of her thigh. “How about you go to the end of the hall with me.” Tom wiggled his eyebrows.

  “Yeah? Just the end of the hall? What’s there?” she teased. While he loved her, subtlety and romance were not Tom’s strong suits. She’d learned to deal over the past thirty years.

  “How about you let me show you?” He ran his hand farther up her leg, tiptoeing his fingers to the zipper of her jeans.

  “How about you catch me?” Tami scooted her chair out from the table and ran as fast as she could, Tom chasing her, as she giggled like the girl she’d been when they’d first fell in love.

  8

  Alex stared out her bedroom window at the sky above, squeezing her pillow tight into her chest. The night was so clear, as if the galaxy had opened up, shining every one of its lights down on her. If she peered hard enough she could make out the falls that Serendipity Fall was named for. Legend was if you dipped your toes in the water then a fortunate stroke of serendipity—event happened by chance— would find its way into your life.

  Every child—including her—that had ever lived in Serendipity Falls had dunked at least one toe in the water on a mandatory school field trip. Was this her serendipity? Her stroke of fortune? The man that she loved finally decides to propose because they’d be better together than apart in the interim?

  Seemed more Seren-sucky than Serendipity.

  Her phone sat on the window seat beside her and gave off a bright, obnoxious glow. Every time it lit up she caught herself searching the screen. One random notification after another had popped up since she’d gotten home with random bits of news: Dog Sings to the Blind, UFO Head Found at Area 51, or her personal favorite, Music Celebrity names their baby Pop Corn. And while all of those notifications, if not news, were at least entertaining, the main person she wanted to hear from, she hadn’t. Max hadn’t sent her one single message since she left his apartment.

  “What’d you expect?” she whispered. She’d told him she’d let him know her decision tomorrow. The man had asked her to marry him and she bolted out of his apartment like he’d asked her to jump naked into a vat of his hot sauce.

  Yet, the idea of making her final decision was about as nerve racking as jumping into a tub of vinegar and garlic drunk on jalapeños. What if she got burned?

  Fear and uncertainty gripped her like the shock of her pregnancy and caused her to wonder if Max had resigned to playing a cruel prank on her, or had a bottle of his hot sauce fallen off some high up shelf and knocked him in his head. Asking for her hand in marriage? The whole concept was completely insane. A man, who only a few weeks ago, showed no signs of settling down, now wanted to be a family man…with her.

  With me.

  Despite her doubts, she smiled into her pillow, excitement rolling around in her stomach overtaking her fear, or perhaps it was pregnancy gas she was feeling…either one was plausible.

  But Max wouldn’t play such a cruel joke on her. He knew her better than she knew herself. The problem was she knew him better than he knew himself, too, and Max did not commit. Not long term anyway. Never had. From the little girl on the playground he handed the flower to, to every other girl he’d ever dated. Max kept relationships at a distance. Romantic ones anyway, and after his mom died, it was as if he gave up.

  She couldn’t blame him. Besides her and her parents, Max had never had anyone to show him what commitment was. He didn’t have a loving mother and father to show him how a husband and wife were supposed to love each other. He didn’t have any siblings to show him the ropes or protect him, but neither did she. Perhaps that’s why she and Max had always clung to each other. They’d both longed for something neither had.

  But, Max…her husband? She, his wife? This child, the child they would raise as their own? Could it really work?

  Her mind spun with equal amounts of happiness and uncertainty as she placed the pillow aside exposing her stomach. Could there really be a life growing inside of her? A life Max would want to raise as his own blood because of her?

  Just like every night before, she glanced to the heavens and picked the biggest and the brightest star in the whole sky.

  “Please,” she whispered and squeezed her eyes shut. “I wish I’m the difference Max needs. I wish he would love me. Really love me. With all his heart and soul.”

  She opened her eyes and sighed, content with her decision. She reached for her phone and clicked on his name. Her thumb hovered over the call button, and she hesitated.

  What if after he sleeps on it he changes his mind?

  What if I wake up tomorrow and change my mind?

  She placed the phone down and would reach out to him tomorrow like they’d planned. They both needed a little space right now, and some time to make sure this is what they both wanted.

  Max paced in his backyard, a beer in one hand, and his cell in the other, as he periodically glanced up and stared at the star-studded sky. He’d missed two calls from Tawana, a few from a sales rep, and one from Dane, but none from Alex. She’d only left his house a few hours ago, but he couldn’t help but wish she’d put him out of his misery. Call him tonight instead of tomorrow. How was a man supposed to wait twenty-four hours to know if the woman he loved wanted to marry him? He didn’t know if he could mentally wait one more day, but he wouldn’t rush her. He couldn’t.

  She had to come to this decision on her own. He wouldn’t try to persuade her or push her. She deserved more than that from him, and he’d always given her more, or at least he’d tried. That was why he never got involved with her romantically. Damn, how he’d wanted to.

  There were times when he could hardly get through his workday without waiting to talk to her, the first person he went to with something exciting or troubling, and the first girl he ever kissed—in fifth grade for practice he’d told her. Truth was, he just wanted to kiss her.

  And now all these years later, he still wanted to kiss her. Every morning when he woke up and every night before he went to bed.

  But he couldn’t tell her. He had to prove it to her, because if one thing was certain about Alexandra Mills, it was that she didn’t do flings. She committed.

  Which was why when she called and told him she was trapped in a hotel room with a one-night stand, he’d nearly thrown up right then and there. That wasn’t her, but the fact she did something so wild, so hasty, and it wasn’t with him…that’s what killed him.

  Telling her he needed her for the campaign trail, his investor, all a ruse. Sure, men got more votes with a wife, but it didn’t mean he had to be married. And he could find other investors. He could do all of these things without her by his side, but why? Why win a campaign, or grow his company he’d worked so hard for without someone he loved to share it with him? Someone he really loved. The baby just upped the timetable. And while he didn’t like the way the situation happened, he was thankful it had. Without this accidental pregnancy, he might never have had the guts to do the one thing he wanted to do. The thing he needed to do. Marry the woman he loves.

  He stared up at the stars, searching for the biggest, and the brightest. The star she would pick. Her motto had always been why waste your time with a wish if you aren’t going to pick the star that can help you make it happen? What would she wish for tonight? Something about him? Something about her baby?

  He’d always thought her star wishing to be nothing more than a huge waste of time. In high school, she would come to class the next day and tell him she’d wished upon a star the night before but would l
eave him in suspense about what her wish was until it came true. Usually, it was to make an A on an exam that she’d studied her ass off for. Not once did she think it was her actions that got her the A. She’d always gave credit to the star.

  Her habit never died. Even when she dated Chris, Max would catch her outside on nights they all hung out, going off by herself, sitting silently as she stared at the night sky. While no one else knew what she was doing and Chris never even cared to ask—Max knew. And each and every time he saw her do it, he’d search for the same big star and wish she’d never marry Chris.

  And because his wish came true, it was time to throw his cynicism of star wishing aside.

  He picked his star and closed his eyes. “I wish Alex would allow me to love her and her baby, making them both mine. Forever.”

  9

  Max clutched the box of donuts in his hand and balanced the tray of coffees on top. He poised his hand to knock and hesitated. It was Saturday. Her favorite day to sleep in, but he’d barely slept. Barely was giving what he did too much credit. He hadn’t slept one bit.

  He kept replaying yesterday over in his mind. The way Alex’s breath caught in her chest as he touched her hand. How fast her pulse raced beneath his fingertips on her wrist, and the way she moaned as he kissed her. He never dreamed in a million years how good her moans could sound to his ears. Even in his wildest, wettest, pornographic fantasies he couldn’t imagine her sounding as beautiful to him as she did yesterday. And he wanted to hear it again.

  He’d been racking his brain the past month on how to make her see he could change, and other than buying a family car and spending the last few weeks alone, he’d come up with a big, whopping nothing. Her coming to him with a sudden pregnancy, albeit not exactly what he had in mind, was just the thing he needed to prove to her he was a changed man.

  Now if she would only let him.

  “Here goes nothing.” His courage building, he rapped his knuckles on her door.

  After a few beats, he heard her footsteps on the other side of the threshold before her lock clicked. She flung the door open. Her short, blonde hair rumpled around her face, and her spaghetti strap shirt hugged her taut, well-rounded breasts. Breasts he swore already grew a cup size since he saw her last night.

  Stop staring at her tits.

  “Max.”

  She gave him a dreamy, sleepy, smile, and he nearly dropped the coffee, and the donuts right there on her doorstep. She was beautiful, and about to be his beautiful if he could convince her.

  “You brought me donuts.”

  Her smile touched her bright blue eyes, and in that minute, everything was right with the world. The worry and anxiety of yesterday seemed to have disappeared from her face. Just waking up, she hadn’t had time to process everything that had recently troubled her. Not yet. Not until she drank her mostly sugared coffee.

  “I couldn’t wait to see you.”

  “You…you couldn’t?” she asked as if surprised and a little…shy?

  Never, in all their time together, had she acted shy around him. He didn’t want it to start now.

  “Nope.” He pushed through the doorway and let himself into her place, setting the donuts and coffee on the countertop. Everything about her apartment was neat and tidy. Just like her life had been…until recently.

  “And you brought me coffee?” A hint of surprise lilted her voice as she shut the front door.

  “Yes, but.” He turned toward her, dangling the coffee cup in her face and pulling it just out of reach as she grasped for it. “I think you know coffee and donuts isn’t what I want to talk about.”

  He wanted something sweeter. Much sweeter.

  Instead of her grasping for the cup like he’d expected, her smile faded and the weight of yesterday dropped on her shoulders full force. “Of course it’s not.”

  Holding her coffee out of reach wasn’t as much fun anymore. “Here. Drink up.” He handed her the cup.

  And maybe he needed to as well, but something stronger than coffee. Her posture folding wasn’t exactly the tale-tell sign he wanted.

  “Thanks.” Alex grabbed the cup and took a sip. “It’s just like I like it, too.”

  “Because I know you, and I know your expressions, Alex.”

  She gripped the cup just past her lips. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, you’re thinking about yesterday, and you’ve already made up your mind to say no. But before you say no—

  “Max, wait—”

  “No. You wait, Alex.” He stepped closer. “I need to say this. Before you say no, there’s something I need to do.”

  “Ooo-kay.” She lowered her cup from her lips and placed it back on the countertop. With a shrug of her shoulder she said, “What?”

  “This.” Hesitantly, he stepped toward her, the tips of his shoes touching her toes. Tracing a finger down her cheek, then her neck and the length of her arm, he placed another hand around her waist and pulled her toward him. She did that breath caught in her chest thing again and glanced up at him through hooded eyes.

  “Max,” she whispered. “What are you doing?”

  Hell if he knew but he prayed he wasn’t making the biggest screw up of his entire life.

  “Continuing what we started last night.” He leaned down to kiss her, gently, softly, testing the waters of what was to come. However, as good as his intentions were, gentle and soft flew out of his vocabulary when her luscious body pressed against his. Skillfully, she kissed him back, and despite his efforts of trying to maintain a gentleman’s decorum, he pressed deeper into her, pushing their kiss to the limits, and her back against the wall.

  Thump.

  Too much.

  He hadn’t meant for their kiss to travel—literally—across the kitchen. He’d only meant to try and silence her doubts.

  When he pulled back from their embrace, her eyes sparkled with desire, letting him know she was as turned on by him as he was her.

  Thank God.

  “You’re excited.” He winked and gave her hips a little squeeze.

  “No. Yes. Maybe.” Alex shook her head, and placed a hand to her forehead. “I’m so confused.”

  So was he, confused and excited. Slow wasn’t his strong suit, but with Alex it had to be. But what was a safe step two after step one made him want to get her naked as fast as possible?

  “That’s understandable.” He took a step back, giving himself space. His newfound discipline was just that…new. He couldn’t trust himself being only a hands width away from her. “What we have is…unique.”

  “Yeah.” She nodded and stared down at the floor. “But that still doesn’t change the fact that I’m confused.”

  “Or that you’re excited.”

  She snapped her head up, making eye contact with him again. “What makes you think I’m so excited? Just because you kissed me, Max, doesn’t mean I instantly go crazy like all those other girls,” she said, her defenses rising.

  The obvious reason was they’d just plowed into the wall during the middle of their lust-crazed make out session, but Alex didn’t need obvious. She needed more from him. She needed assurance.

  He stepped closer again, reclosing the space he’d put between them. “When you get excited your eyes sparkle, your voice hitches, and your chest heaves.” He tapped the side of her temple. “Sparkle in the eyes, check.” He touched his finger to her lips. “Hitching voice, check, and…heaving chest.” He placed a hand just under her collarbone, the pounding of her heart beating quick and steady under his palm. “Check.”

  She placed her palms to his chest; the beating of his heart syncing with hers as he pressed his palms to the wall behind her.

  “Your heart’s beating fast, too,” she said softly. “Do I make you nervous?

  “I wouldn’t say nervous exactly.”

  Thrilled, happy, determined, were a few adjectives that came to mind—and describing himself in adjectives verified how bad he was whipped.

  She roamed her hands acr
oss the expanse of his chest and he had to close his mind off to the way her touch felt on his body otherwise he would fail his first real test in self-restraint. Instead he focused on imagining ugly, large—really large—naked, football players.

  In the process, he must have closed his eyes because she placed a hand to his cheek and asked, “What are you thinking about?”

  “Naked men,” he said as he popped one eye open to gage her reaction.

  “What?” She laughed. “Why in the world are you doing that?”

  “Because it helps keep my mind off kissing you.” Amongst other things…which he couldn’t do.

  “Well.” She hooked her index fingers through the loops of his pants and pulled him closer so the denim of his jeans rubbed the soft fabric of her pajama shorts. “Maybe I want you focused on kissing me? Did you think about that?”

  Her words were as confusing as his emotions. They both wanted to cross a line they knew there was no going back from.

  “Honestly.” He dropped his forehead to hers. “I’m trying hard not to.”

  “Wh…Why?” She gave him a concerned look and by the stuttering of her words, her confidence lacked.

  He had so much work to do to show her how important she was.

  “Because I might not be able to stop at kissing,” he admitted.

  “Oh…”

  The response must have caught her off guard because her eyes grew wide as her mouth parted in a small circle. A circle that his gaze zeroed in on like a spider to a bug caught in its web, and he was the one caught. Caught on what he should do next.

  Concentrating on her lips, he leaned down slowly. If she wanted to escape, she showed no signs as he lowered his arms, inviting her back into his embrace. Taking his bait, she rose to meet him kiss for kiss, long and hard, the same way he’d thought about all night, and a slight moan purred from her lips.

 

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