Every Little Thing

by Samantha Young

  He shifted his hips up, his erection pressing into my ass. “Have we got time?”

  I glanced at the clock on the fireplace mantel. Not really. I looked back at him. “If we’re really, really quick.”

  I squealed as he threw me onto the couch on my stomach. The heat of his body covered mine. “Quick and dirty?” he murmured in my ear as he slid his hand under my dress and caressed my ass.

  Lust fluttered low in my belly. I nodded, breathless with anticipation.

  “Hands and knees, princess,” Vaughn demanded.

  Following his instructions, my arms wobbled a little with tremors of excitement. The sound of him lowering the zip on his trousers sent white-hot arousal through me. My nipples peaked against my bra.

  “Vaughn,” I whispered hoarsely as he pushed my dress up to my waist and peeled my underwear down my legs to the bend in my knees.

  His words were like gravel as he caressed my naked ass. “I’ve dreamt about this. You. On your knees. On this couch. That ring on your finger.” He leaned over me, sliding his hands down and around my ribs to caress my breasts. His warm breath whispered over my ear. “Reality kicks my fantasy’s ass.”

  Those words, mixed with his touch, excited me, and I felt that rush of excitement between my thighs. “Come inside me,” I pleaded. “Just give it to me.”

  Understanding I was asking for the main course and no appetizer, Vaughn straightened and I felt the hot throb of him. His hands clasped my butt, his thumbs caressing the soft skin there.

  “Anything you want, princess,” he avowed, and then he was pushing inside of me.

  The pleasurable burn shot through my limbs and I dropped my head on a gasp as I accommodated his thick length. “Yes, yes, yes.”

  I felt his deep answering groan in my nipples.

  “Hard and fast or gentle and slow?”

  “We only have time for option one,” I huffed out.

  “We have time for anything you want.”

  I smiled even though he couldn’t see it. “Option one.”

  “Then I get to do it gentle and slow tonight.”

  “Not arguing with that.”

  Vaughn’s laughter caught on a groan as he slid slowly back out. My back arched and I whimpered as he slammed back in.

  He hadn’t exaggerated.

  It was fast and it was hard.

  And all of it was fantastic.

  The first thing I did when we walked into Cooper’s a little while later was head straight over to Jess. She saw me coming and jumped off her bar stool to hug me hard. Her dark blond hair had been lightened by the sun, her skin was more tan than usual, and she even had little freckles across her nose.

  “It’s so good to see you.” I squeezed her tight. “I missed you.”

  Jess pulled back and studied me with a knowing glint in her eye. “You just had sex,” she whispered.

  Surprise made me stiffen. I’d made sure before leaving the house that I was cleaned up, my hair and makeup fixed, my dress smoothed into place. “How do you know that?”

  “Because Vaughn is wearing this smug, possessive look on his face right now that says ‘I just got some.’”

  I glanced behind me where Vaughn was hovering close to me and I laughed. She was right. He was.

  “What?” He frowned.

  “Nothing.” Jessica withdrew to embrace Vaughn.

  Vaughn was taken aback by the embrace, and a little uncomfortable. I laughed as he patted between her shoulder blades, unsure how to deal with the hug.

  Jess wasn’t the least bit bothered by his awkwardness, especially when he smiled at her. Her eyes widened. “You look happy.”

  “I am,” he said. “So are you.”

  “I am,” she agreed and shot a smile at Cooper, who was working behind the bar.

  “Tremaine.” Cooper held out his hand across the bar top.

  Vaughn took it. “Lawson. I assume you had a good honeymoon.”

  He threw a heated look at his wife. “Great honeymoon.”

  “No need for details!” Dahlia said from her stool. “No one needs to know that.”

  “I don’t know. I’d quite like to hear about it.” Iris winked mischievously at Jess.

  Jess rolled her eyes before focusing in on me again. “Everyone has been acting weird since we got here. They said you had something to tell us but they won’t tell us what.”

  It hadn’t been easy telling everyone about my engagement to Vaughn. I knew some people would think it was way too fast. Dahlia was a little concerned as were Iris and Ira. Emery thought it was wonderful and even Charlie sounded happy for me. My mom and dad were worried, and that was what upset me most. I just wanted them to be happy I was happy.

  But Jessica was not a friend I worried about telling. She met and fell in love with Cooper in record time. She’d so get it.

  “There’s lots to tell you,” I said as Vaughn stepped up beside me to take my right hand. “But first there’s this.” I lifted my left hand.

  My stunning engagement ring winked in the light.

  Jessica’s lips parted in shock. And then she grinned. And then, “Oh. My. God!” She threw her arms around us both, making me laugh as Vaughn grumbled in discomfort.

  “What?” Coop asked.

  Jess let us go and grabbed my hand to turn it to him. “They’re engaged!”

  Cooper shook his head, grinning at Vaughn. “You move fast once you pull your head out of your ass, huh?”

  On my fiancé’s behalf I flipped Cooper the bird.

  The laughter it caused in the bar among the regulars—who were of course watching us like we were an entertainment show, but I was used to it—died down quite abruptly. We all turned toward the door to see what had caused the room to quiet.

  My parents.

  Stacy and Aaron Hartwell.

  Still familiar and well-loved.

  And here.

  Dad stood like the giant he was at six foot four, still big and broad-shouldered with a slight gut he had gained from a love of Irish lager. His handsome, ruddy face was one that the mere sight of automatically instilled in me a sense of safety and love. But right then I couldn’t work out what was going on in those blue eyes of his as he took in the bar.

  As for my mom, she was almost a full foot shorter than my dad, and currently tucked into his side. She looked young for her age, her auburn hair lightened with blond highlights and bouncing around her shoulders in a wavy chin-length cut that probably cost a small fortune. She was immaculate from head to foot, and it was easy to see where my sister Vanessa inherited her fixation about her appearance.

  There were no people more different than Stacy and Aaron Hartwell but they loved each other so much. Kind of like Vaughn and me.

  “Mom, Dad?”

  They caught sight of me and moved toward us, and my eyes drifted to the man coming into the bar behind them.

  “Dad?” Vaughn was shocked.

  And just like that we were surrounded.

  By my mom and dad.

  And Liam Tremaine, my future father-in-law.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked.

  “All of you?” Vaughn added.

  “Coincidence,” Liam said. “You told me you’re engaged. I had to come out and see for myself. I bumped into the Hartwells on the boardwalk.”

  “And you?” I said to my parents.

  “All the crap with the inn was one thing, Cherry,” Dad said. “But our daughter getting engaged . . . you really think we wouldn’t fly out here to see if her fiancé is good enough?” He eyed Vaughn carefully. “I’m willing to give you a shot because of what you did for Cherry for the inn but it’s a shot, not a free pass.”

  Vaughn stared at my father in perfect seriousness. “Understood.”

  “Oh, he’s handsome, sweetie.” My mom st
ared at Vaughn, apparently stunned. “So handsome.”

  Liam grinned. “Good genes.”

  I snorted in an attempt to hold in my hysterical laughter and Vaughn squeezed my hand. Hard. I knew without him telling me that he didn’t want to laugh in front of my dad.

  “So,” Aaron Hartwell said loudly as he stared at my fiancé, “let’s have a drink and get to know one another. Very well. Like blood type, medical history—including any and all sexually transmitted diseases—kind of well.”

  “Dad,” I warned him.

  But Vaughn looked at Cooper. “Drinks, Lawson. A lot of drinks.”

  Cooper was grinning, clearly enjoying Vaughn’s predicament. “What is everyone having?”

  As everyone ordered their drinks, regulars swarmed Mom and Dad, happy to see them again. While they were distracted catching up with the town, I snuggled against Vaughn and whispered, “I’m sorry about this.”

  “Don’t be,” he assured me. “I’m going to like your dad. I can tell.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah.” He kissed me, a short, sweet kiss on the lips. “He’s just protecting you, wants you to be happy. He and I are already on the same page.”

  I smiled and melted against him, still amazed that Vaughn had changed so much in the past few months.

  No.

  Not changed.

  Just shed his fears to become the man he’d always meant to be.

  I’d helped him do that.

  He had helped me to be brave, too.

  And right then I knew I was exactly where I was supposed to be.

  The truth was that loving someone wasn’t always as easy as the love songs made it out to be. In fact, loving someone could be the most terrifying thing a person could ever do in life. It was difficult to make yourself that vulnerable to another, to let him be the one person who got to see who you really are, flaws and all. Yeah, especially those flaws. It was scary asking someone to love those flaws.

  But I’d done it. Vaughn had helped me be courageous enough to love fully with all my defenses down; to love every little thing about this man, good and bad, because I knew without fear or insecurity that Vaughn loved every little thing about me.

  Don’t miss how it all began in Hart’s Boardwalk in the first book in the series,

  The One Real Thing

  Available now. Turn the page for a special excerpt.

  Jessica

  One of my favorite feelings in the whole world is that moment I step inside a hot shower after having been caught outside in cold, lashing rain. The transformation from clothes-soaked-to-the-skin misery to soothing warmth is unlike any other. I love the resultant goose bumps and the way my whole body relaxes under the stream of warm water. In that pure, simple moment all accumulated worries just wash away with the rain.

  The moment I met Cooper Lawson felt exactly like that hot shower after a very long, cold storm.

  The day hadn’t started out all sunshine and clear skies. It was a little gray outside and there were definite clouds, but I still hadn’t been prepared for the sudden deluge of rain that flooded from the heavens as I was walking along the boardwalk in the seaside city of Hartwell.

  My eyes darted for the closest available shelter and I dashed toward it—a closed bar that had an awning. Soaked within seconds, blinded by rain, and irritated by the icky feeling of my clothes sticking to my skin, I wasn’t really paying much attention to anything else but getting to the awning. That was why I ran smack into a hard, masculine body.

  If the man’s arms hadn’t reached out to catch me I would have bounced right onto my ass.

  I pushed my soaked hair out of my eyes and looked up in apology at the person I had so rudely collided with.

  Warm blue eyes met mine. Blue, blue eyes. Like the Aegean Sea that surrounded Santorini. I’d vacationed there a few years back and the water there was the bluest I’d ever seen.

  Once I was able to drag my gaze from the startling color of those eyes, I took in the face they were set upon. Rugged, masculine.

  My eyes drifted over his broad shoulders and my head tipped back to take in his face because the guy was well over six feet tall. The hands that were still on my biceps, steadying me, were big, long fingered, and callused against my bare skin.

  Despite the cold, I felt my body flush with the heat of awareness and I stepped out of the stranger’s hold.

  “Sorry,” I said, slicking my wet hair back, grinning apologetically. “That rain came out of nowhere.”

  He gave a brief nod as he pushed his wet dark hair back from his forehead. The blue flannel shirt he wore over a white T-shirt was soaked through, too, and I suddenly found myself staring at the way the T-shirt clung to his torso.

  There wasn’t an ounce of fat on him.

  I thought I heard a chortle of laughter and my eyes flew to his face, startled—and horrified at the thought of being caught ogling. There was no smirk or smile on his lips, however, although there was definitely amusement in those magnificent eyes of his. Without saying a word he reached out for the door to the quaint building and pushed. The door swung open and he stepped inside what was an empty and decidedly closed bar.

  Oh.

  Okay for some, I thought, staring glumly out at the way the rain pounded the boardwalk, turning the boards slick and slippery. I wondered how long I’d be stuck there.

  “You can wait out there if you want. Or not.”

  The deep voice brought my head back around. The blue-eyed, rugged, flannel guy was staring at me.

  I peered past him at the empty bar, unsure if he was allowed to be in there. “Are you sure it’s alright?”

  He merely nodded, not giving me the explanation I sought for why it was alright.

  I stared back at the rain and then back into the dry bar.

  Stay out here shivering in the rain or step inside an empty bar with a strange man?

  The stranger noted my indecision and somehow he managed to laugh at me without moving his mouth.

  It was the laughter-filled eyes that decided me.

  I nodded and strode past him. Water dripped onto the hardwood floors, but since there was already a puddle forming around the blue-eyed, rugged, flannel guy’s feet I didn’t let it bother me too much.

  His boots squeaked and squished on the floor as he passed me; the momentary flare of heat from his body as he brushed by caused a delicious shiver to ripple down my spine.

  “Tea? Coffee? Hot cocoa?” he called out without looking back.

  He was about to disappear through a door that had Staff Only written on it, giving me little time to decide. “Hot cocoa,” I blurted out.

  I took a seat at a nearby table, grimacing at the squish of my clothes as I sat. I was definitely going to leave a butt-shaped puddle there when I stood up.

  The door behind me banged open again and I turned around to see BRF (blue-eyed, rugged, flannel) Guy coming toward me with a white towel in his hand. He handed it to me without a word.

  “Thanks,” I said, bemused when he just nodded and headed back through the Staff Only door. “A man of few words,” I murmured.

  His monosyllabic nature was kind of refreshing, actually. I knew a lot of men who loved the sound of their own voice.

  I wrapped the towel around the ends of my blond hair and squeezed the water out of it. Once I had wrung as much of the water from my hair as I could, I swiped the towel over my cheeks, only to gasp in horror at the black stains left on it.

  Fumbling through my purse for my compact, I flushed with embarrassment when I saw my reflection. I had scary black-smeared eyes and mascara streaks down my cheeks.

  No wonder BRF Guy had been laughing at me.

  I used the towel to scrub off the mascara, then, completely mortified, I slammed my compact shut. I now had no makeup on, I was flushed red like a teenager, and my ha
ir was flat and wet.

  The bar guy wasn’t exactly my type. Still, he was definitely attractive in his rough-around-the-edges way and, well, it was just never nice to feel like a sloppy mess in front of a man with eyes that piercing.

  The door behind me banged open again and BRF Guy strode in with two steaming mugs in his hands.

  As soon as he put one into mine, goose bumps rose up my arm at the delicious rush of heat against my chilled skin. “Thank you.”

  He nodded and slipped into the seat across from me. I studied him as he braced an ankle over his knee and sipped at his coffee. He was casual, completely relaxed, despite the fact that his clothes were wet. And like me he was wearing jeans. Wet denim felt nasty against bare skin—a man-made chafe monster.

  “Do you work here?” I said after a really long few minutes of silence passed between us.

  He didn’t seem bothered by the silence. In fact, he seemed completely at ease in the company of a stranger.

  He nodded.

  “You’re a bartender here?”

  “I own the place.”

  I looked around at the bar. It was traditional décor with dark walnut everywhere—the long bar, the tables and chairs, even the floor. The lights of three large brass chandeliers broke up the darkness, while wall-mounted green library lamps along the back wall gave the booths there a cozy, almost romantic vibe. There was a small stage near the front door and just across from the booths were three stairs that led up onto a raised dais where two pool tables sat. Two huge flat-screen televisions, one above the bar and one above the pool tables, made me think it was part sports bar.

  There was a large jukebox, beside the stage, that was currently silent.

  “Nice place.”

  BRF Guy nodded.

  “What’s the bar called?”

  “Cooper’s.”

  “Are you Cooper?”

  His eyes smiled. “Are you a detective?”

  “A doctor, actually.”

  I was pretty sure I saw a flicker of interest. “Really?”

  “Really.”

  “Smart lady.”