Feisty Red: Three Chicks Brewery #2

by USA Today Bestselling Author

  He watched her closely, then all the hesitation faded from his eyes. Their lips met again as his agreement, and there was nothing soft about it. The kiss was rough and spoke of years of heartbreak. Years of pain they could never recover from. And this, this was their time to heal.

  When he broke the kiss again, he spun her around, his strong chest to her back. She shivered, sliding her hands down his thighs as his kiss traveled over her neck. A soft moan spilled free when his hands working their way under her top. “You’re so beautiful, Clara.” His voice a low rumble in her ear, sliding his strong hand across her stomach. “Somehow even more beautiful now.”

  She felt those words ripple across her. Felt his touch right down into her soul. Here, between them, there was unthinkable pain. Hard truths. But there had once been love, so much love. She twisted around and her mouth met his, and she kissed him, slow and easy. His woodsy aroma swirled around her as she became overwhelmed by him. His warm full lips were just as she remembered, like no time had passed. She kept wanting to pull back, to see reason, but the more she kissed him, the harder it became to pull away. Until all that lingered was need. It lived in the deepest parts of her heart that longed for his touch again.

  Soon, he had her shirt off and unhooked her bra, revealing her breasts to him. He cupped her, kissed her, teased her nipples, sucking them up to the roof of his mouth, until all she knew was hot pleasure. She moaned against his touch imprinted on her skin. He was more confident now, more experienced, and she relished in his powerful embrace.

  This time, when he leaned away, something on her stomach caught his eye. She followed his gaze then watched as he traced the three stretch marks on the side of her belly.

  “From Mason?” he asked.

  She nodded and couldn’t speak when she saw the sheer emotion in his eyes.

  Not wanting to talk, only wanting to feel, her lips met his again, and his pants were soon gone. And then hers did too. Until they were bared to each other, except for the condom between them. He gathered her in his arms, laid her out on the bed, and slid her beneath him. She cupped his face, like she’d done the night he took her virginity. They’d both been nervous, unsure, and yet once together, everything made sense.

  Hovering over her, resting his weight on one arm, he brushed his thumb against her cheek, the side of his mouth curving oh-so deliciously. “I used to dream of seeing you like this again.”

  “Reality is better.” Emotion and pulsating desire consumed her as she slid her hand over the hard muscles of his butt cheek and wrapped her legs around his hips, guiding him inside her.

  His low groan washed over her, and then he began moving. This time, when his mouth met hers, the kiss was different. All-consuming as he swept her away to a place where they’d once lived. A safe space full of trust and of possibilities. Each movement was slow but with the intent to tease and to offer pleasure. He thrust as if he meant for her to feel all of him, and she did—every single glorious inch, until her back was arching and her toes were curling. He tangled one hand into her hair. With the other, he pinned her hip to the blanket below. His eyes—oh, his eyes simmered with hunger.

  “Sullivan,” she moaned.

  He answered her with a low growl. His thrusts becoming harder, faster, as he grew harder insider her. They moved together, a steady rhythm, slapping skin against skin, his moans echoing hers. Until the pleasure became too much—so much, so good—taking her to the place only he’d ever taken her. Right over the edge, where she utterly let go. Only then did he follow her.

  Sometime later, she found herself lying on her side, spooned by him. She wiggled back into him, catching her breath, and his arms tightened further around her.

  A sweet, comfortable silence settled in. One Clara didn’t want to let go of. How many times had she wished and prayed that Sullivan would hold her like this again? For this one moment, she let her guards fall and allowed her young heart to relish in his safe hold.

  Until he broke the silence. “What happened after I left?” he asked.

  Reminded of the past, she processed his question, realized she’d heard him right, then flipped over to face him. His eyes were soft, curious, his hair damp with sweat. “Why are you asking that?”

  His voice was sleepy, rough. “I want to know what you went through.”

  Thinking that right now, for Mason and to finally heal, they needed only the truth between them, she indulged him. “It wasn’t pretty,” she told him honestly. “Are you sure you want to know?”

  “Yes,” he said, adamant.

  It occurred to her that while she was doing her own type of healing to mend past hurts; he was too. Because she knew he needed it, she let herself go back into the past, to a day she’d thought she’d never recover from.

  Clara pulled up to Sullivan’s childhood home. Tears flooded her face as she stood on the front yard, staring at the house that had once held so much love. Why did his mother have to die? Why couldn’t they cure cancer? Why did Sullivan have to leave?

  Her feet moved, bringing her to the front door. Her knuckles knocked. Everything felt dream-like, slow and unbelievable. No way this could be her life.

  The front door opened. Sullivan’s dad remained rooted in the doorway, his eyes bloodshot and his hair long and ragged. “Sullivan’s gone,” she heard herself saying. At Kurtis’ silence, she yelled, “He’s gone. Did you hear me? He left me because of you. He’s gone!”

  Kurtis simply blinked.

  Anger boiled inside her. She clenched her fists at her side. “Now you have nothing to say? You were so cruel to him, but now that he’s gone, you’re silent? How fucking dare you? Your wife would be ashamed of what you’ve become.”

  “It’s good he’s gone,” Kurtis growled. “Don’t ever come back here.” He began to close the door.

  That barely in-check rage burst wide open, and before Clara could stop herself, her clenched fist tightened, and using all her strength, she punched him, hearing a loud crack. Her knuckles crunched, and she screamed against the pain blasting through her fingers. Blood poured from Kurtis’ nose as she screamed at him, “I will never forgive you.”

  Her cries faded from her ears as Sullivan asked, “You punched him?”

  She blinked, realizing she’d told him everything without filters, and noted the tightness around his eyes. “I did, and I broke a couple fingers too.”

  She held up her hand and showed him the two fingers. He examined them, running his thumb across the crooked parts before his gaze met hers again. “What happened after that?”

  With a sigh, she tucked her hand between her cheek and the pillow. “I guess your neighbors saw, or had been watching, probably because they worried about me, and they ran over and pulled me away then called the cops.”

  “Did the cops do anything?”

  She shook her head. “They had to take me to the station for a report, but of course, they never pressed charges. For one, your dad didn’t want me charged, and Hayes’ father was totally on my side.”

  Sullivan watched her for a long moment. His expression revealing nothing. He eventually asked, “What made you go to see him in the first place?’

  “Honestly, there were a million reasons. I was so angry and hurt that you were gone, and at the time, I wanted him to know that. To know that it was all his fault you were gone. That your mother would have been so ashamed of him. That I was ashamed of him.” She hesitated, trying to put into words what had been an emotional mess at the time. “I wanted him to feel accountable, I guess, but things changed after that day.”

  “Why?”

  Warmth filled her chest, and she smiled, hoping Sullivan saw all of her happiness. “Because I found out I was pregnant with Mason. It’s weird, you know, but the timing of all of it was crazy. The day before I found out, I booked a plane ticket to come out to see you. I thought if you could just see me, then we could make it work.”

  His brows rose. “You came out to Boston?”

  “No, I never made it, beca
use the night before my flight, Amelia convinced me to take a pregnancy test, and it came back positive. Everything changed in an instant.” She paused, holding his gaze, knowing what she was about to say would hurt. “Because someone mattered more than you.”

  “Mason,” he said gently.

  She nodded. “Mason. So, I decided to call you once more to let you know about the pregnancy.”

  “But a woman answered.”

  “She sure did,” she agreed, her heart lodged into her throat. “That’s when I knew I needed to accept that you were never coming back for me. I decided then to let you go and let you live out your dream in Boston. You deserved that happiness, and I had Mason.” A thousand emotions flashed over his face as he rolled onto his back and looked up at the ceiling. One minute ticked by then another. She couldn’t stand the silence anymore. “Please tell me what you’re thinking.”

  A beat passed then he turned his head, the side of his mouth curving slightly. “I’m thinking that I’m annoyed.”

  “Annoyed?”

  He chuckled, shaking his head slowly, then gathered her in his arms until he hovered above her. “Yes, Slugger, annoyed that you punched my bastard father in the face and I didn’t get the chance to see it.” She laughed, and he pressed his lips to the top of her head before making direct eye contact again. “I’m sorry, Clara. I’m sorry I hurt you. I’m sorry for being a coward and not taking your calls seven years ago. I’m sorry for the anger you endured after I left and for how lonely and scared you must have felt. Most of all, I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you and Mason.”

  She cupped his face, hoping he heard her. “Honestly, Sullivan, I’m done with apologies and regrets. The past is the past. You’re here now. Let’s make this good for Mason and move on from the rest.”

  He whispered against her lips, “One day at a time.”

  “One day at a time.” Then she claimed his mouth.

  8

  The next morning, after dressing for the day and over hot coffee, Clara spent the morning hours reviewing the contracts and drawing up her counteroffers. Of course, their lawyer would review her requests before they sent the contract back to Ronnie and the other distributors, but she knew what they needed for the brewery to survive. And for Mason, the brewery needed to kick some serious butt. For Pops, her grandfather who’d loved his beer and left his life savings to support this venture, Clara couldn’t stop pushing until they got what they needed to make this business successful. She felt the pressure weighing on her shoulders, but everything would work out. There was simply no other choice.

  Leaving Mason to finish getting dressed upstairs, and feeling tired from last night with Sullivan, she headed downstairs for her second cup of coffee. When she woke up this morning, an unexpected peace washed over her. The tension that always lived in the center of her chest had lessened. And while she knew the healing with Sullivan was for Mason’s sake, she hadn’t quite realized how much she needed it to. To hear an apology, to understand why Sullivan had given up on her, were all things she didn’t know she needed. She finished stirring in the cream and sugar into her coffee when a knock came at the front door. She whisked it open to reveal a sight she’d seen many times, many years ago.

  Sullivan greeted her with a warm smile and a sweet peck on the cheek. “Ready to go?” he asked.

  Her belly fluttered right alongside her heart. Sullivan always seemed to have a way of looking good without even trying. Handsome and charming and all the things in between, he wore jeans and a white T-shirt, his hair rustled and unstyled. He looked like a dream come true. If she was being honest, it was her dream come true. Before she could respond to his question, a blur of beige shorts and a blue T-shirt rushed by as Mason ran outside into a clear sunny morning without a cloud in the sky. Clara shook her head at her rambunctious son and finally answered Sullivan, “That’s a definite yes.”

  “Then, let’s be on our way,” Sullivan said, stepping out of the way.

  Clara quickly put her coffee in a to-go mug, grabbed her purse off the hook on the wall, shut the door behind her, then snatched up the booster seat she’d left on the porch last night.

  Right as Mason opened the back door, Sullivan called, “Mason, buddy, hold up.”

  Mason whirled back to Sullivan, confusion in his eyes.

  Sullivan jogged down the porch steps and then went down to one knee, making eye contact. “Whenever ladies are with us, we open the door for them first before we get in.”

  Mason gave a quizzical look. “Why?”

  “You love your mama, right?” Sullivan asked gently.

  Mason nodded. “Yeah.”

  “You want your mama to feel special?”

  Another nod.

  Sullivan’s smile warmed as he gestured back at Clara. “This is one way we can show her that we’re thinking of her and appreciate all she does for us.”

  “Oh,” Mason said, examining Clara with his little brows furrowed. Then he smiled big and ran around Sullivan to open the passenger-side door. “Get in, Mama.”

  Clara’s heart tripped as she was fighting back the tears. “Thank you, sweetie.” He was gone a second later, taking the booster seat with him to the back seat and was fastening his seat belt. She swallowed back the emotion and said quietly to Sullivan, “Thanks for that.” Of course, she’d taught Mason manners over the years, but it occurred to her now, she’d never asked for those manners for herself. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that either. When did she stop thinking about herself?

  Sullivan slowly rose, the heat of his body so close. His eyes were steady, and Clara got lost in that for a moment, hoping he’d come even closer. “You’ll tell me if I overstep?” He lifted a shoulder. “Just felt like I—”

  “Did the right thing,” she said with a firm nod. “You didn’t overstep.”

  His smile widened. “Good.”

  Sullivan’s woodsy cologne infused the air, bringing Clara back to last night when all she smelled was him, all she felt was him, all she wanted was him. Her nipples puckered, and she immediately stepped back, putting some distance between her and all of Sullivan’s heat. His devilish smile said he read right through her.

  “Come on,” Mason called, bouncing in the seat. “Let’s go!”

  Glad for the distraction, Clara shook her head at Mason and told Sullivan, “Manners are a work in progress.”

  Sullivan winked. “For most people.”

  He shut the door behind her then trotted around the hood of the truck to hop in next to her. As he started the ignition, she glanced back at Mason, who was smiling ear to ear, and her gaze fell on Sullivan, who had the same grin. Even she felt the beaming happiness on her face. Life could be a real bitch sometimes, but then, it could take wonderful, surprising turns. And for all the hard times when everything had seemed so difficult, Clara settled back into the seat, sighed, and smiled too.

  “Can we see the tigers first?” Mason asked from the back seat as Sullivan drove off. “No, the lions.” A pause. “No, the monkeys. Wait.” His babbling continued in a blur of words and indecisiveness.

  Sullivan leaned over with a grin. “Is it always like this?”

  “Always.” Clara smiled back.

  Staying true to himself, Mason kept talking the entire afternoon at Denver’s zoo, and Sullivan kept up. Mason’s excitement was infectious, and Clara had seen an unexpected shift in Sullivan. He’d turned into a big kid who seemed to enjoy the zoo as much as Mason did. After they had lunch at the Lion café, it occurred to her that Sullivan probably hadn’t done anything like this since before his mother passed away.

  “I love the lemurs,” Mason said, clutching onto Clara’s hand.

  “They are very cute,” she agreed.

  Mason smiled then scooped up Sullivan’s hand and asked, “Did you like the lemurs too, Sullian?”

  Sullivan looked to their held hands for a beat then his smiled warmed. “Yeah, buddy, I loved the lemurs. Those silly monkeys too.”

  “Mama calls me a
monkey all the time,” Mason exclaimed with a laugh, then dropped their hands and went running down the pathway.

  “Not too far ahead,” Clara called after him.

  Sullivan laughed softly then said to Clara, “It’s safe to say he likes the zoo, huh?”

  “He loves everything,” Clara replied. With Mason gone, her hand brushed Sullivan’s. She had to fight the instinct to take it. Today felt like the very dream she’d had before Mason was born. Doing things just like this, spending the afternoon at the zoo with Sullivan and their child. Once Mason came, she couldn’t think about dreams like that. But the truth was, and always would be, she could only imagine that dream happening with Sullivan. And there was a part of her heart that never wanted to let this moment go.

  Sullivan was silent next to her, a quiet peace on his face.

  To gauge where his head was at, she said, “You’re good at this, you know.” She tucked her thumbs in the back pockets of her jeans to keep her hands to herself. “When did you become so good with kids?”

  “Seven years playing pro ball,” he answered, his hand closest to her shoved into his pocket like he was trying to control himself as well. “Kids come with that territory.” His gaze turned a little unsure. “But thanks—I appreciate your approval. I definitely feel out of my element here.”

  “You’d never know it,” Clara said seriously. “I’ve never seen Mason grab someone’s hand like that other than with Amelia and Maisie.”

  Sullivan looked to Mason, who stopped at the flamingos, his gaze thoughtful, contemplating. “We should tell him the truth.”

  Clara slowed and stopped near the capybara habitat. Mason was still watching the flamingos, and while Clara kept him in her sight, she asked Sullivan, “Are you sure you’re ready for that? It’s a commitment forever. There is no going back after that. Again, we don’t have to rush this.”