by Kelly Moore
“Obviously not if she chose to be here with me tonight.” He jerks her forward. I move her out of the way and take a swing. My fist crunches against his nose, making him stumble forward. He catches himself on a barstool and comes up swinging with blood running down his face. His right fist connects with my left eye before I can duck. Chairs topple over, and people scatter as I slam him onto a tabletop, grasping his collar.
“Don’t put your hands on her ever again!” I roar.
Reese is pulling at my arm, trying to get me off him. The bouncer pushes at my shoulder, making me let go.
“Out! Both of you!” the six-foot-four wall of muscle yells.
I take Reese by the arm and escort her outside.
“What the hell was that?” She jerks out of my hold on her.
“He had no right to put his hands on you.” I inch up close to her.
“I could’ve taken care of it without breaking his nose.” She gets in my face.
“Are you aware of his reputation with women?” I don’t back down.
“Yes, I was warned.” Her lips purse together.
“Then why were you letting him gawk and paw at you?”
“He wasn’t pawing at me,” she spits out.
“His eyes were fucking you the entire time!” I snarl right back at her.
She takes a step back. “You were jealous,” she huffs.
“No, I was protecting you from that asshole,” I deny.
She leans down, taking off her high-heeled shoes and putting them both in one hand, she storms toward her vehicle. Aaron has made it out the door, holding a bar towel to his nose, making a beeline to her car.
I march after her. “You aren’t taking him home. I’ll call him a cab.”
“You’ll do no such thing!”
“Please don’t take him home.” My voice cracks.
The fight leaves her body when she blows out a puff of air. “Fine.”
“I can call my own fucking cab.” Aaron pulls his phone out of his pocket and storms off.
“Can I follow you home? We need to talk.”
“What about? The band?”
“I’ll get in touch with them and make all the arrangements.” I brush a piece of hair off her cheek.
“I don’t know. I’m tired and jet-lagged and in dire need of sleep.”
“I have a hotel room in town for the night. How about I come over in the morning so we can talk?”
“Okay. Call me before you head over.” She reaches up and touches under my eye. “You’re going to need to ice that.”
I take her hand in mine and kiss her cheek. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
I get in my car and fall in behind her until she makes the turn to her place. After checking into the hotel, I raid the mini-fridge of whatever alcohol I can find and make an ice pack. Purple is already tinting my cheek and around my eye.
I don’t know what got into me. Normally, I don’t lose my temper so easily. Except, when it comes to a guy manhandling a woman. I know if a man would’ve handled Lyla the way Aaron did tonight, I’d have killed him where he stood.
Pressing the ice firmer to my face, I scoot down in the bed to find a comfortable position. Sleep doesn’t come easy, but I finally drift off.
The next morning I shower and slip on a pair of jeans and a pullover. I stop at the desk downstairs to check out and purchase some Tylenol. The skin surrounding my eye went from light shades of pink and lavender to deep, dark purple, and it hurts when I smile.
Connecting with my Bluetooth as I pull out of the parking garage, I call Reese.
“You on your way?”
“Yeah, can I bring coffee and donuts?”
“Nix the coffee. I have plenty here, but I’d love some donuts.”
“You have a sweet tooth, don’t you?” I chuckle and wince.
“Yes. It’s the way to my heart, so bring a couple dozen.” She giggles.
“I’ll be there shortly.”
I drive through the Krispy Kreme and order one of every kind of donut they have and a large bottle of milk. The boxes slide, and I almost drop them when I get out of my car. Her front door swings open before I can knock. I hold both boxes out in front of me with the milk tucked under my arm.
“I didn’t know what kind you liked.”
She grabs them from me. “I love them all.” I follow her inside, and she places them on the counter, then turns to face me. “Ouch,” she says, looking at my face.
“You should see the other guy.” I try not to laugh and place the bottle on the counter.
“I did. I’m sure he’s having a hard time breathing this morning.” She closes the distance between us and her fingertips skim my face. “Does it hurt?”
“Only when I laugh.”
“Then you should be pain-free because that hardly ever happens.”
“I know. I’m going to work on that.”
She drags a chair out from the small kitchen table and sits. She points to the spot next to her, and I join her.
“I’m sorry,” I start.
“What exactly are you sorry for, Jameson?” She taps her nails on the table.
“I’m sorry for last night. I’m sorry for walking out on you the way I did.”
“You don’t need to be sorry for last night. It was kind of charming…you defending my honor.”
“Why was your last voicemail message different than the ones before?”
She blows out a long breath. “Because Aubrey told me what happened to Lyla.”
Muscles tense up my spine. “What did she tell you?”
“That the accident she was in was intentional on her part.”
I clench my jaw. “She had no right to tell you that.”
“Don’t be angry with her. She was trying to make me understand why you pulled away from me.”
“I should’ve been the one to tell you, not Aubrey.” I’m angry.
“Here’s the thing, I don’t think you would’ve ever told me. I think you keep her so tightly locked down inside of you that you can’t share her. And, you can’t let anyone that close to you. The choice Lyla made had to be so hard on you. I can’t imagine the guilt you carry from it. It’s not your fault, but it’s a natural thing to do, and I’m so, so sorry for the burden it put on you.”
“So what are we doing? You don’t think I’m capable of a relationship.”
Her hand folds into mine. “Because you and I have some crazy spark between us that I don’t understand. We barely know one another, yet, I can’t deny the instant connection I felt for you. Which is saying a lot. I’ve dated my share of men, and I told you the circumstances around which I got married. I’m not sure why that didn’t send you running, but you didn’t even bat an eye at how shallow I was.” She raises her other hand in the air when I go to say something. “I’m not shallow anymore. I’ve never even felt a tinge of what it would be like to love someone until I met you. I wasn’t looking for you. My life is pretty great. I have a fantastic job, and I’m more than capable of affording anything I want. That being said, I like you despite our disagreements. You’re somewhat sweet.” A lopsided grin pulls at her lips. “Underneath the man that pushes me away, I know there’s a loving heart inside. Honestly, I think I fell for you before I even met you.”
“How is that possible?”
“Greg talked about you nonstop. He told me about you. Not that you were married or that Lyla died, but about how great you were. I wanted to meet the man he knew.”
“I’m not the same guy.”
“You are, only you can’t see it. Just like you don’t see me, and until you do, nothing can happen between us. I won’t be your friend with benefits.” She laughs.
“Aubrey told you that too?”
“She did, and something about bases.” She winks at me.
“When I see her, I’m going to have to kill her.” I chuckle and sit back. “Where does that leave us?”
“That’s totally up to you. I’ll give you time to figure it out.”
“Is dating off-limits?”
“You dating other people is.” She narrows her copper eyes.
“I meant dating you.”
“I think that would be a great idea. We could take it slow.”
“I’d like that.”
She stands.
“Where are you going?”
“I’m walking you to the door. I’ve got a ton of things that I’m behind on and need to play catch up, so my weekend is all booked.”
I get up and follow her. I stop her before she opens the door and spin her in my arms. “Thank you for understanding.”
“I’m only pretending to be patient. I’m really not.” She flings her arms over my shoulders.
I take my time kissing her, tasting her sweetness. Her tongue explores my mouth with a softness that draws me in. It’s passionate yet gentle. “I’ll call you,” I say as I pull away.
“If you go to voicemail, leave me a message. I’ll be listening to demos on my headphones.”
“Are you going to leave a message directed at me again?” I wink.
“Mmmm…maybe. It depends how long it takes you to call me.”
She walks me to the car, and I watch her go inside. I pull out of the drive and head toward the ocean. I’m only a few miles away when I call her cell phone.
“It’s Reese, do your thing…unless it’s Jameson. What’s taken you so long to call me?” I hear laughter before the sound of the beep.
“Damn, you wasted no time.” I chuckle. “I know you said that you’re busy all weekend, how about it if I pick you up and bring you out to the beach on Monday? I’ve rented a cottage. I could make us dinner or take you out to a fancy restaurant, whichever you’d prefer. Anyway…call me back.”
Chapter 9
“I wish you would’ve let me come and get you.” I greet her at her car before she can get out.
“I had phone calls to make, so I did them while I drove.” She steps out, and I don’t hesitate to kiss her.
“I’m glad you’re here.”
“Wow, a girl could get used to a kiss like that on a second date.” She splays her hand on my chest. She reaches in the Yukon and grabs an oversized and overstuffed straw bag. I take her hand, and we walk into the cottage. “This place is cute,” she says as she takes off her round red sunglasses.
“Thanks. How about I fix us a couple of drinks while you go get changed.”
“It’s been a busy weekend. I could use something a little strong.”
“I’ve got just the thing. The bedroom is through those doors.” I point.
She disappears in the room, and I finish filling the picnic basket I started prepping earlier, stashing a bottle of vodka and orange juice into the cooler. I stuff bright-colored beach towels, a bottle of suntan lotion, and a ball cap in a bag.
“Ready,” she declares as she comes back out wearing a teal-colored cover-up that has fringes on the edges with a pair of matching sandals, and a wide-brimmed white hat. Her legs are long and lean, looking sexy and smooth. Imagining what she’s hiding underneath is going to make me hard as hell.
“Here, you take the bag. I’ll get everything else.”
A pair of teal glasses slide in place as she takes it from me. “I can’t remember the last time I went to the beach.” The smile tugging on her lips is beautiful.
I open the French doors on the back, and we walk the narrow pathway down to the beach where I already have chairs and an umbrella set out for us.
“You relax, I’ll make us some drinks.” I use the picnic basket as a table, putting the glasses on top of it, filling them with ice, followed by vodka and orange juice.
She sits with her cover-up still in place and sips her drink. “This is nice. The water looks so blue.” I inwardly groan when she crosses one lean leg over the other. “I’ve always loved the salty air smell.”
“This is only the second time I’ve come here since I moved to California. I grew up on lakes and rivers, but I’m quickly falling in love with the ocean.” I sit. “Are you hungry?”
“Yes, but I’d rather go walk down by the water.” I reach into my bag and toss her the bottle of coconutty-smelling lotion. “You might want to slather this on before you do anything else.”
She stands, takes off her hat, and pulls her hair into a high ponytail. Then she removes her cover-up.
I press my lips together and watch her from behind my shades. The strings on her teal-colored bikini bounce off her skin, and she rubs the lotion down her legs. Her flat stomach is firm yet soft in all the right places. Her breasts fill out her swim top with a deep cleavage. She rubs lotion in between them and I damn near swallow my tongue.
“Are you just going to sit there gawking or are you going to help me?” She tosses the lotion at me, then gets up with her back toward me. When I don’t move quick enough, she looks over her shoulder. “Do I need to go ask someone else to do it?”
I almost trip getting out of my chair. Popping off the top of the bottle, I squirt the white, thick liquid in my palm, rubbing my hands together before I apply it. It glides on smooth over her shoulders, down the center of her back. I apply more to my hands and rub the side of her hips and slip one hand over her belly. “I think you missed a spot,” I say, nipping at her shoulder, tasting the coconut fragrance.
“You’re more than welcome to check for any other places I might’ve missed.” Her warm breath blows, caressing my jaw. She turns to face me.
“I think you covered these thoroughly,” I say with my gaze toward her chest.” Squeezing more lotion out, I apply it to her nose, forehead, and cheeks. “That will do it.” I toss it on the chair, and she puts her hat back on and sunglasses in place.
“I’ll race you,” she says and takes off for the water.
I halfheartedly chase after her, watching her graceful body and her nice ass move in her skimpy swimsuit. It’s a win-win situation. She beats me, but I’m more than happy to lose. She stops when she’s ankle-deep in the water. “Look, there’s a starfish.” She points. I bend down to get it for her, but she stops me. “No, leave it. It’s beautiful.”
“Do you want to swim or go for a walk?”
She plops down by the edge of the water. “I want to sit here and stare out over the ocean.”
I join her. “I love the sound of the surf crashing. It’s a beautiful melody.”
“Does everything remind you of music?” She leans her shoulder into mine.
“I can hear a song in almost anything.”
“I used to, but I don’t stop and listen often enough anymore.”
“You should.” I lay in the white sand with my hands laced behind my head. I feel the heat of her stare on me. “What?”
“You’re really quite beautiful.”
“Thanks, I think.” I chuckle.
“Minus the black eye, you could be a model.” Her long fingers trail over my chest, leaving a fire in their wake.
“According to you, I don’t smile enough, so nix the modeling career.” I roll onto my side.
“But when you do, it’s glorious.” She moves her hand and draws her knees up under her chin, placing her hat next to her.
“Tell me about your ex-husband.”
“He was ten years older than me and owned half of Wall Street, at least as far as stocks go. He was very good at his job.”
“Was?” I sit next to her.
“He got caught insider trading. He’s still battling it out, but he’s likely to lose everything he owns.”
“You aren’t caught in the middle of all that are you?”
“No, he and I were done before any of that went down. I’ve been questioned multiple times, but everything is dated after we were separated.”
“Did you divorce on good terms?”
“At first, no. But once we were no longer married, he didn’t try to control me anymore, and we became friends.” She turns, facing me. “How long were you and Lyla together before you got married?”
“Not long at all. I k
new the moment I laid eyes on her she was mine. It just took convincing her. Her husband and child had been killed in a car accident, and she was scared to let anyone too close to her.”
She squeezes my shoulder. “I’m so sorry. No wonder she was…”
“Broken,” I finish her sentence.
“Now I get why she wanted out. I think if I lost a child, I’d feel the same way.”
I swallow hard. “I understood her pain, but opting out wasn’t the solution.”
“God, no wonder you’re gun-shy.”
I stand. “Enough serious stuff. Let’s get in the water.” I bend down, and she squeals as I pick her up over my shoulder and take her into the cool ocean until I’m waist-deep.
“Don’t do it!” She’s giggling.
“One…two…three…” Instead of throwing her. I sink down with her and drag her under the water. She comes up laughing and wraps her arms around me, then her legs.
She hungrily crashes her lips to mine, startling me with a kiss. Her mouth opens, and her tongue pushes past my teeth. Our tongues dance together like they are playing a song. My soft beard scrapes against her skin, mingling with her suntan lotion. A surging tide of warmth makes me want to hold her tighter.
When she slows her kiss, she nips along my jawline, leaving her face pink and her lips swollen.
“God, you’re beautiful,” I whisper against her neck.
“I think maybe we should go dig into that picnic you brought and finish our drinks.”
“You’re going to have to give me a minute.” I look down between us.
She giggles. “Sorry, not sorry.” She pushes off me and dives into a wave. I love watching the carefree side of her.
When I’m no longer bulging in my board shorts, I get up, and she follows me back to our lounge chairs, picking up her hat along the way. I throw her a towel. She dries off, then lays it flat on her chair before she sits down, making herself comfortable. “What do you have in the basket?”
I refresh our glasses with ice and hand it to her. “Chicken salad, croissants, several types of fruit, and pie.” I hold up an individual pie in a small tin.
“Oh, my god, give that to me now.” She sits up and snatches it out of my hand.