What it Takes to Fall

by Ellis, C. R.

  I was still smiling by the time Bryce rounded the hood to get in the driver’s seat, and I quickly eyed the interior. Everything from the leather seats to the shiny surface of the dashboard was black. I searched for signs of personal touches, but found nothing. I didn’t see a single speck of dust or even a gum wrapper littering the floorboards. Bryce clearly took pride in keeping things in order.

  “Not what you were expecting?”

  “I guess I didn’t peg you as the type to keep everything so…impersonal.”

  “Oh, believe me, it’s usually not nearly this clean.” He paused and flickered his gaze to the second-row seats before turning back toward me. “Never, actually. Told you, you’re special, Uno,” he said with a wink that was way too sexy to be considered just a friendly act.

  Knowing Bryce took the time to thoroughly clean his car before taking me out meant more than I expected it to. I tried to remember if any of my previous boyfriends had put in that kind of effort before any of our dates, but stopped myself when Milo’s voice popped into my thoughts. Just go with it.

  Right. No comparing this to past experiences. And definitely no comparing Bryce to previous boyfriends.

  “So, you were saying the wedding went well? With the exception of all the fires you put out?” Bryce prompted, bringing me back to earth.

  I nodded before launching into a summary of today’s events. I told him about tracking down the caterers myself when their phones cut out and lost signal. He laughed when I explained how the mystery of the rings was solved by another groomsman who had gotten the rings stuck on his fingers (thank god for coconut oil). He shook his head and wore an awed expression when I finished describing the system I’d perfected when it came to cleaning up after weddings.

  “I don’t know how you do it. I’m betting you’ve been up since before the crack of dawn, then spent hours upon hours running around to give these people the best day possible, and now you’re here telling me about it and still have the energy to be genuinely happy when you talk about what went on.”

  “I know. It’s not always like this, trust me. Some days I want to rip the bride’s veil off and hang myself with it,” I admitted with a chuckle. “But overall, I just really love being the one to make people that happy. To know I’ve played a small role in giving them something special they’ll always share and remember. That kind of satisfaction gives me a weird work-high…which I’m now realizing sounds lame when I try to describe it out loud.”

  “Nah, I get it. Seeing my designs brought to life gives me that same feeling. Maybe not exactly, but I know how rewarding it is for your hard work to manifest into something great. To know you’re doing something you’re passionate about.”

  Then why did he leave Seattle?

  I knew his ex must’ve played a role in his decision to move back here, but the need to know the whole answer was burning under my skin. Something told me it wasn’t that cut and dry.

  We rode in a comfortable silence for a few minutes, and I looked out the window and watched the downtown buildings grow smaller as Bryce drove us toward north Austin.

  “El?” he asked eventually, drawing my attention back to him.

  “Hm?”

  “Have you thought any more about what you want to do with the inn? I know George mentioned there’s no rush on a final decision, but I can’t imagine you and Sophia enjoy having this looming over your heads.”

  “Actually, I have.” I turned in my seat and sucked in a deep breath, seeking his smile for the encouragement to tell him what I hadn’t even discussed with Sophia yet. “I have an idea. I haven’t told anyone, so I need you to promise you’ll be honest if I’m completely crazy. Okay?”

  He nodded and lifted one hand from the wheel to draw an imaginary cross over his heart. “Of course. Lay it on me.”

  When I hesitated, he reached across the center console and squeezed my hand. The familiar gesture instantly cloaked me with comfort. “My biggest struggle with this decision is weighing my love for the inn and everything it represents against my love for my job. I mean, I’ve loved the inn for as long as I can remember. At the same time, FMK and Jade and Jasmine have become family to me; I can’t imagine walking away. But I think I’ve found a way to have my cake and eat it too.” I paused, biting my lip and trying to rein in my excitement. Bryce smiled and gave me a nod in a ‘keep going’ kind of way. “What if I turn Let Love Inn into a wedding venue? I mean, not get rid of the inn part, but add another part that would be used for weddings. We could even make it FMK-exclusive. Or I’d find another way to keep my job and make this possible. I’ve given it a lot of thought, Bryce. You know that clearing near our ‘B+E’ tree? I really think it would work for a ceremony location. And then we could turn the old barn into a reception hall, or even build one from scratch, if not. I’m not entirely sure how much that would cost. I know it’s way more than the renovations Nana and Pops had in mind, but I could get a loan. And I don’t know what Sophia’s thoughts will be, but I think she’d want this for me.” I finally stopped talking and took a breath before bringing my eyes back to Bryce to see his reaction. “That was a lot. Sorry. But, um, what do you think?”

  “I think…” He lifted a hand to rub his jaw, and I felt myself stop breathing again in anticipation of his next words. “El, I think it’s perfect. Honestly. So perfect for you.”

  “Yeah? Really?!” I practically leapt across the console and onto him, throwing my arms around his neck. Thankfully, my impulsive excitement didn’t make us crash. He just laughed and brought his left hand up to squeeze my arm.

  “I mean, I know it’s going to be crazy and a ton of work, and I have no clue if Jade and Jas will even go for it, but I have to at least try. You know?”

  “If there’s one thing I know for sure, it's that you, Elliot Kincaid, are not the type to back down from something just because it’s going to be a difficult journey. You’re way too tough for that. And I’m sure they’ll all love this idea. It’s kind of impossible not to after seeing your enthusiasm.”

  He wove his fingers through mine and held them there the rest of the car ride.

  By the time we pulled up to the go-kart place, I’d been so consumed by excitement over my plans for the inn that I forgot what we were about to do. I turned to Bryce after unbuckling my seatbelt and smirked. “You’re going down, Diddy Kong.”

  His lips curled at my attempted new nickname. “You gonna cycle through all the Mario Kart characters, or what?”

  I shrugged. “Maybe. At least all the sucky ones. One’s bound to stick.”

  “Don’t hold your breath.”

  “Whatever. You’re still going down, Bryce.”

  “So you keep saying.” He paused, dropping his eyes down my body and bringing them back up at a blatantly slow pace. “You really can’t wait for me to go down, can you? I gotta say…as much as I still hate losing, the idea of going down to you makes the fall incredibly fucking appealing.”

  His voice held both a threat and a promise, and I wasn’t sure which one was responsible for the tremor that raked through my body, but I itched to find out.

  “Bryce—”

  “Patience, El. Right now I’m gonna kick your ass on the race track.”

  Heat fully flooded my neck and cheeks by the time Bryce made it over to my door. He pulled it open and held out a hand.

  I lifted my chin and eyed him curiously once my feet touched down. “Bryce McKnight…boy-next-door gentleman one minute, and smooth-but-dirty talker the next. Aren’t you just full of surprises?”

  He arched a brow, and at the same time a corner of his mouth lifted up into a wicked grin that made me want to forgo our date and pull him into the back seat of his Range Rover. “You have no idea, Elliot. No fucking idea.”

  “Enlighten me,” I challenged, planting my feet instead of following when he moved to walk toward the building.

  He turned back, but not before quickly surveying our surroundings. I licked my lips and kept my head tilted up, too sho
cked to look away. Pretty sure he just set a record for how turned on one simple exchange can make a person.

  I blinked and he was there, casing me in against his car with his body. My chest brushed his torso, adding fuel to the sparks flying underneath my skin. Everything about this moment drew me in and made me crave more of him. I gripped his shirt at his waist and held him close, unwilling to let him move without finishing what he had started.

  He brought one hand up to cup the side of my face and the other to lightly caress my opposite cheek. “Careful what you wish for, El. Enlightening you completely right now would involve saying and doing a lot of things to you in the back seat of my car that are definitely not family-friendly. And it definitely wouldn’t be taking things slow to put my mouth between your legs before our first date ends. But I don’t think I can go another minute without doing what I should’ve done five years ago,” he said roughly, dropping his mouth down to brush against the outer shell of my ear.

  A moan erupted from my throat, and that’s all it took for his mouth to crash into mine. I pressed up on my toes and met his kiss with matching desperation.

  Where his touch had been gentle two seconds ago, it was anything but now. He pressed into me, and I was vaguely aware of another moan escaping into his mouth when I realized just how hard and toned Bryce’s body was. His hands held my head in place and mine dug into his sides, holding on for stability.

  Leading up to this moment, I would’ve expected my first kiss with Bryce to be sweet or reserved on both of our parts. Ours was an unusual situation, and I never would’ve expected things to explode this way with him.

  But they did. In the best way imaginable.

  Fireworks—that’s what I felt with Bryce’s mouth on mine and our tongues dancing and exploring like we’d been deprived of each other for decades.

  I was seconds from sending us both tumbling to the ground when he pulled back.

  “That was…” I trailed off, breathing hard and at a loss for words.

  “I know,” he agreed.

  I was on the verge of suggesting that he should completely enlighten me when he took a step back and quickly ran a hand over my hair to smooth out the mess he’d made.

  “Uhh, ye—uh huh,” I sputtered. Great, now full sentences aren’t a part of my verbal skillset?

  Bryce smirked, and I would’ve been annoyed at how unaffected he looked after our kiss if not for the way he turned to adjust things below the belt.

  He reached around me and closed the car door while I continued to do nothing but stare at him, still not trusting my brain to send messages to my mouth.

  “C’mon." He motioned toward the go-kart park. "You might’ve beaten me at Mario Kart, but we both know who’s going to be on top by the end of tonight. Though, in this case, I might be willing to make an exception about you coming out on top.”

  My mouth fell open, but before I could say a word, he grabbed my hand and tugged me forward.

  Who freaking knew. Underneath the high-end clothes and the charming, unassuming boy-next-door demeanor, Bryce McKnight is a dirty-talking Romeo.

  And I was pretty sure the taste he’d just given me barely scratched the surface of what he was capable of doing.

  Chapter 10

  Elliot

  I regained my composure by the time we walked through the door, driven back to reality by my desire to beat Bryce. Our impending competition was the only reason I didn’t drag him back to his SUV to finish what he'd started. Knowing that I would have the satisfaction of being the (metaphorical) one on top by the end of our competition was a great motivator.

  Truthfully, it was probably for the best that Bryce put the brakes on when he did. Without the sensation of his lips possessing mine, of his hand sliding to the small of my back, of his hard chest pressed into me, I could think straight again.

  Well, straight enough to know the whole ‘taking it slow’ thing would’ve gone right out the window if my lady parts had gotten their way.

  Over the course of the last year, I’d casually dated a handful of times and had a few hook-ups. But I’d gone into those flings knowing they were all temporary and being totally on board with that. With Bryce, ‘temporary’ sounded too…brief. Too unmemorable.

  With his deep blue-green eyes, his perfect, dark dirty-blondish hair, and that same Bryce charm he’d always possessed, nothing about Bryce belonged under the ‘unmemorable’ umbrella.

  Taking things slow—savoring that getting-to-know-each-other phase—had to stay my priority.

  The building was massive, and in addition to the race track, featured oversized love seats in the waiting area, a cafe, and a variety of arcade games. When we walked in, Bryce found the nearest employee and asked if they gave trophies to the winner of each race. Much to his disappointment, the sweet elderly lady at the front desk told us they did, but only for group events. For the rest of us, they only handed out certificates.

  Bryce and I scoped out the different games we wanted to play after our race, then sat through a mandatory ten-minute safety and instruction spiel about how to operate the karts and what each flag meant. Afterward, Bryce and I stood in line to get our helmets with the other competitors. I looked up and caught him smiling down at me.

  “What?” I asked.

  “Just trying to decide what kind of frame I should get for my certificate and where to hang it.”

  “So cocky, McKnight. I wouldn’t go picking out colors or styles just yet, Mr. Hope-you-can-back-it-up,” I teased, reminding him of the words he’d said to me after I’d told him I would beat him at Mario Kart. The difference was that I’d actually backed up my claim.

  “Oh, I can back it up.” He stepped toward me and nudged my shoulder with his, leaning close enough that his breath tickled my cheek. “I always follow through with my promises, El.”

  My back snapped a little straighter, and I resisted the urge to look at him, knowing my cheeks were probably flushed. Fortunately, I was saved from having to answer because it was our turn to step up and pick our helmets. We grabbed matching ones, along with some kind of weird head-sock, and I said a quick prayer to the hair gods that a) the thing wouldn’t give me lice, and b) it wouldn’t totally ruin my hair when I took it off later.

  The rest of our group selected their helmets as well, and we all made our way over to the track when an announcement came over the speakers telling us to find the karts we’d been assigned. Somehow, I’d ended up in one of the karts at the very front of the pack with Bryce directly behind me.

  Bryce set his helmet down and held out his hand for my head-sock. “Here, let me help you with that.” I could’ve managed on my own, but I liked having his hands near me. My nose wrinkled when he slipped the fabric over my head and into place. “What? Afraid it’ll mess up your hair?”

  “No. Just lamenting the fact that there’s no way to make this look remotely sexy.”

  “Gonna have to disagree with you there, Uno,” he countered, easing the helmet on and fluffing my hair over my shoulders. “I can promise you that this look right here is the picture of a hot race car driver fantasy I never knew I had.”

  Huh. Hot race car driver. Definitely not something I ever imagined myself embodying, but I didn’t hate it.

  We all settled into our karts as the instructor went through another run-down of the rules. The race was three laps around, and the track was long and narrow, featuring a series of sharp turns with stretches of long and short straightaways separating them. It was only a matter of time before someone went sailing into the red and white-striped barrier walls, despite the instructor’s warnings about not bumping other racers into the wall.

  I knew I’d be the first if Bryce had his way. On normal first dates, some hesitation would probably exist on both sides about being ruthless in a competition, with each person feeling the other out and not wanting to show up their date.

  But this was far from a normal date. We’d resorted back to the days when raced each other on bikes around my grandp
arents’ land or his parents’ winery, desperately trying to back up the shit-talking we did to each other on a regular basis. Back then, our competitiveness was real but innocent; we never wagered anything serious. Hearts and feelings were never part of the equation, never put on the line. Now, whether either of us was willing to admit it, that—hearts becoming vulnerable and feelings taking root and growing—was exactly where this was headed if things between us stayed on track.

  With the blare of the horn, we were off.

  An adrenaline-fueled surge of excitement struck me like lightning as I rounded the first turn. I focused on the next two quick turns and forced myself not to risk a glance to my left, knowing Bryce was probably in the process of overtaking my lead. When I came to a straightaway at about the halfway point, a kart pulled up next to me, and I knew it was Bryce without looking. A grin spread under my helmet until the kart edged forward and he flew by, somehow gunning it around a corner and leaving me in his dust.

  Another kart pulled up next to me, and we were neck-and-neck until I maneuvered my way around a sharp turn, preventing it from passing. Dealing with the other kart slowed me down and allowed Bryce to pull even further ahead. I glanced above the barrier walls and saw him closing in on the last straightaway of his first lap.

  Taking the last turn without slowing brought me closer to Bryce, but not close enough. He used the second lap to stretch his lead, and by the time he rounded the last corner, he was far enough ahead that he had a shot at breaking the record.

  I spent the entire third lap distracted and cursed into my stupid head sock when a kart passed me at the last second, putting me in third place.

  I slowed to a stop next to Bryce’s kart and focused all my efforts on being indignant about his victory. But the second he tugged the head sock off, my lips parted and a breath caught in my throat. Nobody should be able to pull off a helmet and head sock and somehow maintain such a level of sexiness. Instead of having wild, windblown zombie hair like the rest of us, Bryce had an early morning bedhead look, and it was the epitome of sexy. Only the hair on each side of his head had moved, and thanks to static electricity, it extended in all directions, but somehow only highlighted his hotness.