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Happy Crazy Love Boxed Set

Page 49

by Melanie Harlow


  “What about your own family? Don’t you want one?”

  I bristled. “Sure. Eventually.”

  “Well, you’re never going to meet anyone hiding over here with that frown on your face, silly girl.”

  Actually, I wasn’t frowning until you came over here.

  “You need to stand where you can be seen. Smile. Look more approachable,” she admonished, patting my arm. “Let me find you a partner.”

  “No, really. I don’t want to dance right now.”

  “Well, you’re much too lovely to be standing over here so single—I mean, so alone. You’re at that age where you have to be proactive about these things, Jillian. You have to let men see what a prize you are or risk being sad and lonely forever.” She grabbed my arm and began to drag me toward the tent.

  “Please. I’m not a prize, Aunt Irene. And I’m not sad, either.”

  “Of course you are! Every woman wants a man in her life.”

  Digging my heels in, I wrenched my arm away. “Actually, what this woman wants is another drink. Excuse me.” I spun away from her and slammed immediately into a big, solid wall. Wait, no—it wasn’t a wall. Walls don’t have strong hands that reach out to steady you, huge dark eyes full of concern, and a thick, brown beard you’re pretty sure would feel like velvet against your cheek. And your thighs.

  They don’t know your name, either.

  “Jillian?”

  For a second, I couldn’t place him. Then my jaw dropped. Oh my God. “Levi?”

  “You two know each other?” Irene, still right behind me, sounded pleased.

  “Uh…yeah.” Levi and I looked at each other, half stunned, half embarrassed. He took his hands from my upper arms, and I immediately felt unbalanced.

  “We’ve, um…” Our eyes locked, exchanging a silent word. Fucked.

  “Met.” Levi finished my sentence, his lips tipping up.

  I smiled too. What we’d done was have fumbling, frantic sex in a dorm utility closet the way only two desperately hormonal (and drunk) college students can do. To this day, every time I think about that encounter, I go a little weak in the knees.

  Was it horrible that I didn’t know his last name?

  “Isn’t this wonderful?” Irene looked back and forth between Levi and me, smiling approvingly. “And just look how nice and tall he is, Jillian. My word, he must be over six feet. You should ask her to dance,” she ordered him.

  Levi’s eyes widened in alarm, and I smiled at him reassuringly. “Don’t worry about it. I’m not much of a dancer.” But Irene was right about one thing—he was nice and tall. He had a few solid inches on me, and at five foot eight plus my four-inch heels, that was pretty impressive. He wore a black suit with a white dress shirt, and the knot in his tie was loose and a little haphazard, as if he’d been in a rush to get dressed. His dark hair was parted on the side, longer on top and neatly combed back. Something stirred inside me—something I hadn’t felt in a long time.

  At least not without charging up Magik Mike first. And Mike had three speeds, seven functions, and rotating ball bearings, so this was pretty impressive.

  “How about a drink instead?” I asked.

  He smiled, looking relieved. “I’d like that.”

  “Perfect.” Taking his elbow, I steered him toward the patio bar, tossing a placating smile at Irene over my shoulder. “Nice chatting with you, Aunt Irene. Enjoy the music.”

  When we were a safe distance away from her, I let go of Levi’s arm, although I really wished I had a reason to keep holding on to it. What was he doing here? “Sorry about crashing into you like that. I’m a little clumsy. Plus…” I held up my empty champagne glass. “This doesn’t help.”

  He laughed a little. “I didn’t mind.”

  “So.” I tried to think of where to begin, since hey, remember that time we banged in a closet? seemed a little too off-color for this occasion. “It’s been a while. I almost didn’t recognize you.”

  Grinning, he ran a hand over his chin. “Didn’t have the beard back in college.”

  “I like it.” I liked it a lot, actually. He’d been tall, skinny and cute at twenty-one, all arms and legs, floppy hair and cocky smile, but he was tall, broad, and gorgeous at thirty-two. I glanced at the darkening sky. Please, God—please let him be single.

  “Thanks. My son likes it too.”

  I gave God the stinkeye. “Wow. You have a son?”

  “Yes.” We reached the bar and stood in the short line. “Scotty.”

  “How old is he?”

  “He’s eight.”

  “Got a picture?”

  He pulled out his phone and scrolled through a couple photos before handing it to me. On the screen was an adorable young boy sitting on a swing. He had messy dark hair, his father’s huge brown eyes and long limbs, a smattering of freckles across his nose, and ears that stuck out a little. His expression was thoughtful and serious, and he wore a shirt with a drawing of a T. Rex on it that said Scottasaurus.

  “He’s beautiful,” I said, handing the phone back.

  “Thank you.”

  Some quick math told me he must have gotten married fairly soon after college. I’d met him my sophomore year at U of M, but he’d only been visiting friends there. I hadn’t even planned to go out that night—I’d had on a Harry Potter t-shirt, for heaven’s sake, and I think it had a hole in it—but my friends had dragged me to the bar, insisting I needed a study break. I’d noticed Levi right away, and we’d eyed each other across the room for a good portion of the night before he finally came over to me and said, “Harry Potter fan, huh? So what are the chances I can Slytherin to your chamber of secrets tonight?”

  Two drinks later, we were kissing, and two after that, we were racing hand in hand to my dorm, where he’d yanked me into the hallway broom closet after we’d discovered my roommate was already asleep in my room.

  For a moment, I was distracted by the memory of giggling breathlessly as I listened to him tear open the condom wrapper and put it on, the sight of him lost to me in the dark. I remembered the way my heart pounded as I slid my underwear down my legs, terrified we’d rouse my RA, whose room was right next door. I remembered the scent of bleach and Pine Sol, his lips on mine, his hands on my shoulders as he turned my body toward the wall and lifted my jean skirt. Most of all, I remembered the way he whispered as he thrust up inside me again and again and again, so deep and hard it teetered on the edge between pleasure and pain, one hand over my mouth to stifle my cries. You’re so fucking hot, I wanna fuck you so hard, oh fuck I’m gonna come.

  OK, maybe not terribly poetic or imaginative, but hey, he was young.

  And for me, a bookworm whose Saturday nights were usually spent reading bio-chem textbooks or romance novels, broom closet sex with a hot guy was a pretty erotic experience. Until that point I’d only had missionary sex in dorm room beds with two other guys, neither of whom had said anything except “uuuuuuuhhhhhhhh” the entire time. And by “the entire time,” I mean all five minutes.

  But with Levi, it was different. Not that it was much slower—in fact, it may have been faster—but it was more illicit. More unexpected.

  Dirtier.

  Rougher.

  And I’d liked it—it had shocked me how much I liked it. In fact, it was still one of my go-to fantasies when I was alone with Magik Mike.

  Too bad he was married.

  I cleared my throat in an effort to clear my head. “Is your wife here?”

  “We aren’t together anymore.” He didn’t look or sound particularly sad about it.

  “Oh.” My pulse picked up, and I sent God a silent apology for the stinkeye. “So tell me how you know Sebastian. Skylar is my sister.”

  He cocked his head. “Is she? Sorry, I probably would know that if I hadn’t been so late that I missed the ceremony. I never saw a program or anything.”

  “That’s OK, most people wouldn’t guess it. We don’t look much alike.” Skylar and Natalie had our mother’s blonde hair and pet
ite, curvy body. I had our dad’s tall, thin frame and dark hair, although we all had the same blue eyes. “And we, um, might not have exchanged last names that night.”

  Levi laughed, a deep throaty sound that heated up my insides. “Maybe not.”

  “Jillian Nixon.” I held out my hand.

  He took it. “Levi Brooks.”

  I have a bit of a hand fetish and couldn’t resist glancing down at his. It was solid and strong, with long fingers, nails neatly trimmed. A thick black watch peeked out from the crisp white cuff of his dress shirt, which made my heart skip a few beats. I love a nice wristwatch on a man. There’s something so classic and masculine about it.

  His grip was firm, and he gave my hand an affectionate little squeeze before letting go. “I met Sebastian at the gym a couple years ago, but I’m also his architect.”

  “You’re an architect? Did you design his cabin?” I asked, impressed. “It’s beautiful!”

  “Thanks.” He shrugged, sticking his hands in his pockets. “That was a pretty simple project, really. And Sebastian had a lot of input. He just needed someone to draw up the plans and supervise the construction.”

  “I hear they’re adding on, though, right? I knew my sister wouldn’t be able to live with so little closet space.”

  Levi chuckled, and I raised my eyebrows. “Sorry,” he said. “It’s just…” He glanced sideways at me, a boyish grin on his face. “Closet space.”

  My face warmed, and I couldn’t help smiling either. “Ah. Yes. Closet space.”

  The group in front of us moved away from the bar, and Levi put a hand lightly at the small of my back as we stepped forward. It wasn’t overtly suggestive, but it sent a flutter through my belly all the same.

  In fact, every part of my body felt fluttery—my heart, my hands, my knees. Even my head, which can usually find something wrong with a guy in under five minutes, wasn’t telling me no. So he had a son, so what? He was handsome and smart and funny, and I hadn’t been this attracted to someone in a long time.

  So I was glad when he left his hand on my back while we ordered drinks, his thumb rubbing softly at the base of my spine.

  We took our drinks to an unoccupied table in one shadowy corner of the winery’s stone terrace, where the ceremony had taken place hours before. Since then, the rows of chairs had been replaced by cocktail tables fashioned with giant oak barrels and round glass table tops covered with ivory linen. Party lights were strung in the trees above, and the table held small votive candles, which flickered in the falling dark.

  “Hard to believe we’ve never run into each other before,” I said, setting my glass on the table. “Have you lived in this area long?”

  “About three years. Before that I was in Charlevoix. That’s where my family is.”

  Impulsively, I reached over and fixed his tie, pulling the knot tighter and straightening it out. “Sorry. Couldn’t resist.”

  “Was it crooked?” Grimacing a little, he took over the task, and a tingle swept up my arms when his fingers closed over mine. “I was so rushed tonight. My sister was late, and then I had trouble getting out of the house. Did I even remember to put pants on?”

  I laughed. “Yes, you did.” Although I wouldn’t mind if you took them off.

  “Oh, good.” He picked up his drink and took a sip. “So tell me about you. I know your last name now, I know you used to like Harry Potter, and I know you’re a little clumsy when you drink champagne, but other than that, I got nothing.”

  Heat rushed my face, and I giggled. “I am a little clumsy, and not just when I drink champagne. But in addition to that, I still like Harry Potter, and I’m a pediatrician.”

  He cocked his head. “Are you? I always wondered if you went to med school. Back then you were planning on it.”

  I smiled, pleased that he’d remembered something about me. And had he said always wondered? “Yes. I finished up my undergrad at Michigan and then went to medical school at Wayne State. I completed my residency up here and took a job in private practice about six months ago.”

  “In this area?”

  I nodded. “Yes. In Traverse City. I’m really close to my family, so I was happy about that. Now catch me up more with you,” I said, tucking my hair behind my ear. “If memory serves, you were at State—but there’s a good chance it does not, since I believe there may have been some liquor consumed the night we, um…met—”

  “Uh, yeah. A lot of liquor, as I recall.” Levi laughed. “Sometimes I’m amazed my liver survived undergrad. OK, let’s see. I think I met you my senior year, when I was at State, and then I ended up in Boston for grad school. Scotty was born during my final year there.”

  I blinked. “Wow. That must have been tough, trying to finish school and care for a wife and baby.”

  He hesitated. “Actually, Scotty’s mom and I were never married.”

  “You weren’t?”

  He shook his head. “No. I offered to marry her when we found out she was pregnant, but she didn’t want that. She said she couldn’t handle grad school and marriage and pregnancy all at once. Sometimes I wonder if she knew then she was leaving.”

  “She left?”

  He nodded, lifting his drink again. “Shortly after Scotty was born. Said she wasn’t cut out to be a mother and she’d made the wrong choice.”

  “My God.” I tried to imagine what that must have been like for Levi, suddenly on his own with a newborn baby. “So you’re raising him alone?”

  “He’s my son. For me, there was no choice.” He rotated his glass slowly on the table, staring into it. “She wanted a career in finance, so she went to New York, and I moved back to Charlevoix so my family could help out. My uncle had an architectural firm and offered me a job.”

  “Do you ever see her or hear from her?” I hoped he didn’t think I was being too nosy, but I was so curious about him.

  “No, and that’s how I wanted it. That’s how we both wanted it.” He met my eyes and lifted his broad shoulders. “The relationship wasn’t good to begin with. I definitely got the best part of it—in fact, as far as I’m concerned, I got everything. She walked away with nothing.”

  My heart thumped hard. “I bet you’re an amazing father.”

  He smiled, but he shook his head. “Actually, most of the time, I have no idea what I’m doing and I’m just trying to get through the fucking day.” After another big swallow of whiskey, he squared his shoulders and set his glass down hard. “But you know what? I rarely get out on Saturday nights—in fact, I can’t even remember the last time—so let’s talk about something more fun.” His dark eyes glittered. “Like broom closets.”

  I laughed, shaking my head. “That was fun. I still can’t believe I did that.”

  “Are you saying you didn’t make a habit of luring innocent college boys into your lair with your blue eyes and long legs and sexy Harry Potter t-shirt?”

  “Ha! No, I certainly did not. And you were not that innocent.” I tossed back the last of my champagne, the bubbles tickling my tongue.

  “I wasn’t?”

  “No. You knew exactly what you were doing, and you did it very well.”

  “Thank you.” He looked pleased with himself.

  “And very fast.”

  His face fell as he groaned. “God, don’t tell me. All I remember thinking is, ‘oh fuck don’t come oh fuck don’t come oh fuck I came.’”

  I couldn’t resist. “That’s pretty much what you said, too.”

  “Is it?” He groaned even louder and slammed the rest of his drink. “I need more whiskey. Want something?”

  I bit my lip and looked at my empty glass. What number was that? I felt light-headed, but I didn’t know if it was the champagne or the flirting. I felt light-hearted too. “I shouldn’t.”

  “Why? Are you driving?”

  “No.”

  “Are you married?”

  “No.”

  “Are you worried I’m going to get you drunk and drag you into a closet for round two?”


  I smiled coyly. “Maybe.”

  He leaned in closer, so close I felt his breath on my lips. “Good.”

  Three

  Jillian

  Before Levi came back with our next round, Skylar and Sebastian appeared on the patio. Noticing I was by myself, Skylar tugged on her new husband’s hand, whispered in his ear, and left his side to join me at the table.

  “Hey, you.” She fanned her face, which was dewy and flushed, but other than the fact that her lipstick had faded, she looked just as radiant and flawless as she had at three o’clock this afternoon. “What are you doing hiding out all alone over here?”

  “I’m not hiding, and actually, I’m not alone.” I gave her a cryptic little smile, and her eyes widened.

  “What’s that mean?”

  Over her shoulder, I saw Sebastian and Levi greet each other with a handshake and a back-thumping man-hug. I knew I’d only have a minute before they came over here, so I spoke fast. “OK, remember the guy I told you about, the one in the dorm closet?”

  “Pine Sol?”

  “Yeah. He’s here.”

  “Pine Sol is here?” Her jaw dropped, and she craned her neck to look over her shoulder as I shushed her.

  “Yes. He’s talking to Sebastian right now.”

  She faced me again, her eyes huge and sparkling. “Pine Sol is Levi Brooks? The architect? I don’t believe it!”

  “Shhhhhhh!” I flapped my hands between us to get her to quiet down. “Will you hush, please? I don’t want him to know I told you about the closet.”

  “I’m sorry, I can’t help it. Oh my God, this is amazing. I can’t wait to tell Natalie.” She shook her head and moved around the table to make room for the guys, who were headed our way with drinks. “Wait, isn’t he married? He’s got a kid, I think.”

  I shook my head. “Nope. Not married. But yes, one son.” There was no time to get into everything he had told me. “Do you know anything else about him?”

  “Not really,” she said, frowning. “Sebastian never gossips about anyone, it’s so annoying.”

 

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