Second Chance with Brother's Best Friend: A Single Mom Secret Baby Romance
Page 6
I wanted to ask, if only because I wanted him to be this soft all the time, and it had worried me to see him in that harsher light. Jace had always been a good person. Nothing should take that away from him.
“I’ll show you where to throw out the paper towels,” I told him, leading him into the back and taking the mop with me to wring out.
Jace followed, dumping the paper towels and the rags where I instructed, and then paused, staring around. It took me a moment to realize what he was staring at, as I focused on the mop, but then Jace said, “Wow.”
His voice was… filled with awe. I turned and looked at him—and realized that he was staring at the other paintings I had put up around the space.
Some of my paintings were up around town, done for a small fee or presented as gifts. I had some up in the diner, for instance, and I knew there were some neighbors who had one or two. I even had a few up in my house. But most of them I kept here, in the shop. I wasn’t really comfortable having them all over my home—it felt almost like bragging, in a way. And if they were here, then if someone liked the painting above the cash register and asked if it was for sale, I could take them back here and show them my other art and hopefully make a sale.
Jace stared around at the paintings, taking each one of them in, lingering, really taking his time.
“You have real talent,” Jace said, his voice quiet, still a bit awestruck. “I think I recognize this one… you were sketching it when we had that picnic.”
I nodded. “Yeah. Good memory.”
Jace paused in front of another one. It was a painting I’d done of a long, flat rock that jutted out over the clearing below. The rock was covered in layers and layers of moss, making it the perfect soft bed to lay on. Jace and I would usually lay out a blanket when we’d go there, but it had been out favorite spot to sneak out to, where we’d make love. We hung out in other spots, but it could be difficult to have sex when there were leaves getting in your hair or a tree root digging into your ass.
That rock, with its soft moss, had been the perfect solution.
I wanted to say something, but it felt like all the words were sticking in my throat. I swallowed, overwhelmed with the memories and the emotions. I had been so in love with Jace. We’d been so tender together. He would spend literal hours kissing me, with the sun warming us, sunbeams sliding down through the trees. My memory was probably making it all a bit rose-colored, at least in regards to the scenery, but I hadn’t felt as loved before. Or since.
“The birch trees,” Jace said, and then he stopped, clearing his throat.
There were birch trees all around the rock. He’d used to say that they reminded him of me. Something about their… elegance or something. I had never quite understood it, but I hadn’t had to. I’d been in love and since when did love have to make a ton of sense?
“Yes,” I said, and I didn’t have to say anything more. I knew that confirmed it for him.
Jace turned to look at me, his gaze heavy and unreadable. “You know those were…” His voice was thick, and he cleared his throat again. “Those moments were some of the best of my life. The most memorable. I’ve spent the last six years thinking about them.”
“I…” What could I say to that? “Yes,” I agreed. “I—yes. Same here.” I laughed a little, feeling horribly awkward and exposed.
Jace strode across the room towards me. “You don’t wear a ring,” he said, his voice low and harsh, and for a second I had no idea what he was talking about. A ring? What?
Then I realized what he meant. With my having a son and all, he must’ve wondered if I was married. “No, there’s no one,” I promised.
The moment the words were out of my mouth Jace made a noise of pained relief and took my face in his hands, pulling me in and crashing our mouths together.
For a moment I was completely stunned. I had felt a charged emotion between us, but it was one thing to reminisce about something for old times’ sake and another to want to act upon it in the present. Then I realized—holy shit, I was kissing Jace. Jace was kissing me, kissing me like he was going to die if he didn’t get to do it, if he was forced to move away.
It was like my body was jolted with electricity and I came alive, grabbing onto him and kissing him back. Jace’s hands moved down from my face, over my curves, squeezing, and I moaned a little, my mouth opening. He wasted no time sliding his tongue against my bottom lip and then inside of my mouth, curling against my tongue just like it used to, like no time had passed.
A thrill passed through me as I pressed our bodies together and felt his firm, sturdy frame up against my softer, curvier body. The contrast between the two of us had my head in a whirl. It was like I was reliving a memory, our earlier times together, the line blurring between what was Now and what was Then.
How could it be that he kissed just like—or almost like—he used to? There was a slight roughness to him that hadn’t been there before, almost like he had forgotten how to be gentle, but I slid my hands up to his face, guided the kiss, and that melted away right back into the eager softness that I had been so addicted to, that I had dreamed about off and on for six years even though I’d hated to admit it.
Just barely, I could hear the voices of Jenkins and Withers outside, their rocking chairs creaking, arguing about something or other. I couldn’t make out what they were saying but I could still hear their voices and it reminded me of the fact that we were far from alone. The two men, or another customer, could walk in and peer around the doorframe into the backroom and see us. Sammy could walk in, early from kindergarten. Hell, Andy could stumble in, back earlier than expected.
It sent an odd thrill through me, actually—the idea that we might be caught. The idea that this wasn’t really private. It reminded me of sneaking around, of being teenagers again. Part of me knew that this was a bad idea—getting involved with anyone recklessly while I was a single mother was a bad idea, but Jace, the father of my child? The man who didn’t know he was the father of my child? It was a recipe for disaster.
But in that moment, I didn’t care. All I cared about was his mouth on mine.
We stumbled backwards, towards the shelves, Jace’s hands sliding up underneath my shirt. Maybe it was a bit fast, but I hadn’t had sex in six damn years and his mouth was sucking on my neck and I was a goddamn puddle of goo. My hands moved down to his jeans, trying not to rip them open in my eagerness, my fingers trembling.
We couldn’t get fully undressed, not in this situation, but that didn’t seem to be stopping Jace from roaming his hands everywhere he could reach, like he was starving for my skin, had to feel me everywhere.
God, if only we were somewhere private and he could put his mouth all over me, on my breasts the way that he used to—he’d always taken his time exploring my body, making me moan.
Not that I was complaining about how this was going. Not in the slightest.
Jace got my pants down and spun me around so that I braced my hands on the shelves, his fingers skidding up my inner thighs, rubbing against my slick folds. I felt a new pulse of heat rush through me, coating Jace’s fingertips, and he chuckled right up against my back. “The amount of times I’ve dreamed about holding you just like this…” he whispered darkly into my ear.
Then why didn’t you ever call or write me? That wasn’t a question for now, though. Especially with my brain cells flying out the window as Jace continued to stroke me. We didn’t have a lot of time, so he was going a bit fast, a bit rough, but I loved it.
“Christ, how long has it been?” he asked, sliding a finger inside of me. “You’re so tight, baby, I don’t want to hurt you.”
“It’s been—been a while,” I said, because admitting I hadn’t been with anyone since him felt a bit pathetic. It wasn’t like I’d been hanging around hoping he’d come back. I’d honestly had no idea that Jace would ever return. I’d thought he was gone for good. That even after he quit the military he’d go somewhere else to settle down. But I’d never found anyone e
lse who gave me that spark the way that Jace did and I hadn’t been about to settle for anything less than that.
Jace nuzzled my neck, kissing the delicate, damp skin just behind my ear. A second finger slid into me and my breath hitched. I touched myself, so it wasn’t like I was entirely unprepared for this, but my own fingers were smaller and shorter than Jace’s. And it was Jace. That alone made it overwhelming.
“You’re so responsive,” he murmured, biting down lightly at the joint where my neck and shoulder met. I was torn between wishing he would leave marks and hoping that he wouldn’t. I didn’t want to have to cover them up with makeup or explain to Dawn and Andy why I had hickeys. But I also wanted evidence that this had happened, marks of him… claiming me like this.
“I’d be even more responsive if you got inside me,” I replied.
Jace laughed. “You could get so sassy with me,” he noted.
“Is that not what I’m doing now?”
Jace kissed me and slid his fingers out, turning me around. I was surprised—I thought he would just tilt my hips back and slide into me from behind—but Jace smiled at me. “I want to see your face.”
That sent a thrill through my chest, one that I tried to ignore. This wasn’t the start of something. It couldn’t be. This was just giving into the lust of the moment—and oh God, what lust, I felt like I was going to combust with how much I wanted him, my whole body on fire…
I hooked me leg up and around him as Jace slid into me. I could tell that he was trying to go slowly but his hips jerked and he slid in all the way, his hips pressing up hard against mine, and I moaned, my head falling back against the shelves.
“Shh, shh,” Jace said, half serious and half playful, covering my mouth with his. “We can’t let those poor sweet old men outside hear us, they’d be scandalized.”
“They’re not sweet or poor,” I countered, “and they’re definitely not innocent.”
Jace thrust into me instead of answering and I bit my lip hard to hold in my cry. God it felt so good, so, so good, and after so long without this, without sex, without Jace, I could feel myself already teetering on the edge.
The groan of satisfaction that Jace made vibrated through his chest and up against my body, the sound pressed into my mouth as he kissed me again to try and keep us both quiet. I clung to him as he moved inside of me, his thrusts shallow but sharp, keeping him mostly inside of me. He couldn’t get a real hard thrust inside of me from this angle, couldn’t pull out far, but that was fine. That wasn’t what mattered to me in that moment. I wanted him inside of me so far I could taste him in the back of my throat. I never wanted him to leave, not even to thrust harder into me.
We kept kissing, ostensibly to keep silent, keep anyone from hearing, but God I also wished that it was for another reason, I wished that it was because we just wanted to.
Jace kept thrusting in, shifting his angle until he found one that made stars go off on the inside of my eyes. I clutched at him, digging my nails in, and I could feel him smile against my mouth. “There it is,” he hummed, sounding incredibly pleased with himself.
He thrust into me at that same angle and it was everything I could do not to cry out as my toes curled, my body shaking with pleasure. It felt so unbelievably good. I had forgotten exactly how good sex could be, how much I loved it and enjoyed it.
Jace kept up a steady pace, his thrusts growing harsher and faster, until I felt like I couldn’t even make noise anymore—I was just clutching at him helplessly, seizing up again and again with pleasure, until Jace scraped his teeth over the hollow of my throat and I came, shaking.
Oh my God. How had I ever forgotten it was this good? Sparks flew inside of me and it was all I could do not to scream. This was nothing like my own hand or my toys. This was so much more. And I felt like I was already in danger of becoming addicted to Jace once again.
11
Jace
I could barely believe it—I was making love to Leigh again. I had her around my cock, in my arms, I could kiss her and squeeze every one of her gorgeous, generous curves. She was so tight around me, it was like a vice, one I never wanted to leave.
Had she been with anyone since the father of her child? Had she had anyone to make her feel like this, to help her to come to ecstasy? It seemed insane to me that anyone could’ve gone this long without snatching her up, or at least trying to.
I fucked her hard, desperately, driven fucking insane by the feel of her around me. She tasted and sounded and smelled just as delicious as she had before. It felt like I must’ve lost my mind to have ever let her go for so long, or at all.
When she came, clenching around me, it felt like I saw stars. I had to swallow down another moan, trying to keep quiet as I chased my own release, fucking into her harder, harder, more, feeling that tight heat, feeling Leigh—until I spilled inside her, panting.
My eyesight was all fucking blurry. It felt like I’d gone cross-eyed with how good it felt. Leigh trembled around me, her nails digging into my arms, and she whimpered as I pulled out of her. God, that had been so fucking good.
“You good?” I asked her, just to be sure. I had felt her orgasm, or thought I had, but I wanted to double check. I wanted her to have just as good of an experience as I did.
Leigh nodded, a faint smile curling up the corners of her lips. “More than good,” she promised me, her voice a hoarse whisper.
I pulled back so that we could clean up. Thank God there were more rags and paper towels, and that not too much mess had gotten onto our clothes.
Feeling like a goofy young idiot all over again, I smiled at Leigh, handing her some supplies to help her clean herself up. God, it was a dream come true to have her again. I wanted her more, again, as many times as I possibly could. If I’d still been twenty-two, I would’ve been ready to get it up again right now. I almost wished that I could.
But it was only a matter of time until one of those cantankerous geezers out on the porch wanted something, so I started cleaning up as well. I’d just finished when I heard the door open and thought, ah, probably a coffee refill request.
Instead what I heard was, “Mama?”
Leigh had been trying to fix her hair and she froze, her eyes going wide. “Sammy!” she said, putting on a smile and quickly exited the back room.
I wrinkled my nose. It smelled strongly of sex back here. I grabbed one of those spray bottles of air freshener and sprayed it around a bit. Sammy wouldn’t know what the smell meant, of course, but God help both Leigh and me if he noticed and asked.
When I walked out of the back room, Leigh was crouched down in front of her son, who was happily chattering to her about his day. My heart thumped painfully in my chest. If I’d stayed here, stuck around and married Leigh… maybe that would be my son. Or if I’d stayed in touch with her—maybe that would be my son, in a few years, maybe we’d be able to have a kid together someday.
It was thanks to my own damn stupidity that I lost out on this.
Life went on when you left somewhere, and I’d expected it to—but I hadn’t expected it to go on in this particular way, and I should’ve known that. I should’ve known that my prediction for how things would go didn’t mean that things were actually going to go that way, and that I should be prepared for any eventuality.
Sammy looked over Leigh’s shoulder at me, pausing in his explanation of his day. Leigh turned, saw me, and stood up. “Sammy, this is Jace. He used to be a friend of mine back when I was younger, before you were born. He just came back into town. Jace, this is my son, Sammy.”
Leigh had an odd look on her face as she stared at me, as if she was daring me to challenge her on Sammy being her son. I crouched down so that I could shake Sammy’s hand. “Nice to meet you, Sammy. Strong grip you’ve got there.”
Sammy grinned. “Thanks!”
He looked familiar to me. Like Leigh—he had her nose and her big sunny smile—but something else, too. Probably just more of Leigh. Unless the father was someone in town tha
t I knew. I couldn’t think of anyone and quickly shut down that train of thought before my frustration and jealousy could boil over.
Leigh scooted Sammy over to a corner of the store where he had a little desk and play area set up. “I’ll grab you a snack,” she told him, kissing him on the top of his head.
She completely ignored me as she went about her business. Was that… it? She didn’t want to even look at me?
It was odd.
I didn’t want to stick around where I wasn’t wanted and make things more awkward, so I quickly gathered my things and left. What was that brush-off for? It wasn’t like Leigh. Unless…
About ten feet outside the store, my feet froze.
She’d said she wasn’t with anyone, but what if the father of her child was still in the picture in some way? What if she knew it would upset him that she’d had sex with someone? Just because they weren’t officially dating didn’t mean that things weren’t complicated between them. Would he make things difficult for Leigh if he found out she’d slept with someone?
My gut clenched. I couldn’t do it now, not after Leigh’s brush-off and with Sammy right there (and Jenkins and Withers right out on the porch where they could easily eavesdrop), but I had to find out, soon, who Sammy’s father was and what was going on with that. If I was going to have Leigh back in my life—and now I was determined that I would—I had to know what the situation was. As soon as possible.
12
Leigh
I frowned up at Rachel’s house, my stomach tight with nerves. It was a lovely house, I had to admit. Rachel had good taste. It was more than I could possibly afford but then, I’d already been expecting that. And it wasn’t anything too ostentatious or over the top. It was a really nice home, and I had faith that with his renovations Jace was going to make it even nicer.