She planted little kisses down my neck to my collarbone. The light touch tickled me, causing bumps to rise across my skin.
“I wouldn’t be opposed to another, altogether slower round two,” she murmured, her voice low and sexy as hell.
I groaned. “If I don’t get downstairs soon and fix your mom’s oven, she’ll have cause to come up here to find out what’s going on. Do you want to have to explain this to her?” I asked, waving a hand in the general direction of the two of us.
“I guess not.” She swung up and out of bed, grabbing a pair of shorts and a camisole from her closet. “I’ll be in the bathroom cleaning up. You know your way downstairs.” She gave me another slow sensual kiss before walking away.
I shook my head. The woman was a damn vixen. She was a nuisance, but I was ready to dive into her kind of trouble again.
She disappeared to the bathroom, leaving me to find my forgotten jeans, shoes, and underwear on the floor. I was about to leave her bedroom when I noticed photos attached to the mirror of her vanity table. Curious, I wandered over to look.
Most were what I would have expected—a teenage Rose posing with her friends while someone took an over-exposed Polaroid, but there were a few that surprised me. She had a couple of both the Rogers and Coopers together. I assumed it was because of how happy her parents looked in them, but there on the floor of one of the photos was a young Rose and a slightly older me. She was tugging at my hair while I sat there passively taking the torment.
I snorted in laughter. I looked ridiculous, and she looked annoyed. If our genders were reversed, I would have assumed it was a typical case of a boy picking on the girl he liked.
I paused, considering the thought. Though it wasn’t impossible that was the case with her and me—that she picked on me because she liked me—a large part of me found it difficult to believe. She had made her dislike of me perfectly clear as we grew up, and then she ignored me altogether in high school. That wasn’t the mark of someone with a crush.
Another photo caught my eye. It was the same high school junior and senior photo that had been posted online a few days prior—the one I’d been mulling over in bed. There she was, standing at the front in her cheerleader uniform, and there I was standing in the back trying to blend in with the background.
She had circled my figure in the photo, scribbling beside it something that looked an awful lot like the word idiot. If I had been laughing at the photo before, I was absolutely howling at this one. So much for her growing up. Even when she’d reached her final years of high school, she still couldn’t help but vocalize her aversion to me.
“Why are you cracking up?” she asked, suddenly appearing behind me.
“I’m laughing at you,” I admitted, gesturing to the photos.
Her face paled before flushing a furious scarlet. “Oh my—oh my God, why would you look at those? They’re private.”
“They’re hardly private if they’re on show in a room you invited me into.” Her mouth opened and shut like a fish gulping air as she realized she couldn’t argue her case.
“I can’t believe you did this.” I pointed at the circle around me in the photo. “What was the point? For all intents and purposes, you ruined the photo for display.”
She rolled out her bottom lip and stretched it into a thin line. “I felt like it was an improvement. I should have scribbled you out.”
“Charming. What caused you to write I was an idiot on it in the first place?”
“I—I’m not sure,” she admitted. “You were leaving school for college, so I don’t have a clue what you could have possibly done for me to write that. Oh—”
“Oh?” I echoed, raising an eyebrow when she paused mid-sentence.
She giggled. “My friend Nicki had asked you to prom. You refused. I had no idea why you’d say no to her. It’s not like you had any other offers, and she liked you, though God knows why. It was better than a pity date. You kind of broke her heart.”
I frowned as I tried to remember her friend. “I didn’t go to prom,” I said as I pulled at the memory, forcing it out. “I told her that I had no intention of going, and she got upset.”
Rose looked surprised. “Wait, you actually spoke to her? I always assumed you ignored her request.”
“What would you have had me do, walk away from her when she asked me directly?” I asked, incredulous at how low her opinion of me had been. “Of course, I declined her offer—with words.”
“I never got why she liked you in the first place.”
“That’s because you hated me.”
“I never hated you,” she complained. “You … annoyed me. A lot.”
“Clearly,” I replied, glancing at the photo of us as children.
She chuckled. “I told you before, I didn’t understand why you wouldn’t talk to me. I thought we’d gotten past that.”
I shook my head. “We have. Mostly. It’s funny to see it with my own eyes. Maybe I deserved all your teasing.”
“Well, I certainly thought so at the time.”
“But not now?”
“No, not now. Besides”—she sidled up to me, placing a hand on my bare stomach, a mere inch or two above the waistband of my jeans—“there are more interesting ways to tease you as an adult.”
I glanced down. “I’m not sure if that’s worse.”
“Worse for who?”
I leaned over and kissed her. “Me. I don’t like you having this much of an effect on me.”
Her lips curled into a smile beneath my own. “At least you’re admitting to it. And in full disclosure, I wasn’t happy she asked you to prom.”
“Jealous?”
She half shrugged. “Oh please. Get over yourself.” She glanced back at the photo, and I saw the regret in her eyes.
“Unbelievable. You had a secret crush on me.”
“Hardly, but now that we’ve moved past all this, can we behave for Owen and Carla’s wedding?”
I brushed my lips against her cheek to whisper into her ear, “What exactly do you mean by behave? Something tells me what you’re hoping for is anything but.”
“You’ve figured me out,” she murmured. “But I don’t want to do anything you’re not up for. There’s no point in this if you don’t want it to happen.”
“And if I say I don’t?”
She pulled away to stare at me. “Then, you’ll be lying because you were definitely up for it.” Her eyes went straight to my package.
“Tell me you loved it, and I’ll consider being up for it again,” I joked, though I slid my hands around her waist as I did.
“Don’t act like this is a chore for you.”
I adjusted my growing length. “It’s a damn hardship.”
“Hilarious. Don’t forget you still need to fix that oven for my mom.”
I pulled away from her as if I had been burned, cursing slightly as I made for the door.
“Why did you distract me for so long?” I complained as I made my way down the stairs with her following closely behind me.
“You should know by now,” she said.
“Rose Rogers likes me.”
Lucy stood in the kitchen when we reached it. She raised an eyebrow at me—a gesture which reminded me so much of her daughter—then she laughed softly.
“The two of you are like little kids around each other. It’s refreshing.”
“I’d hardly say we were like kids, Mom,” Rose said as she grabbed a can of soda from the fridge, throwing it to me without even asking if I wanted it. I did, but that was beside the point. She was in my head now.
“Oh, nonsense. Running down the stairs arguing with each other; if that’s not acting like children, then I don’t know what is. Never mind all that fuss in the garden trying to get each other’s attention.”
I looked away as she stared at her mother. The woman was too sharp for her own good. I had no doubt she knew exactly what the two of us had been up to while we were gone.
“Paxton,” Lucy cont
inued, “your T-shirt is still outside. I didn’t know if you’d want to put it back on before having a look at the oven?”
I shook my head and smiled at Rose. Two could play her game. “No point in getting it dirty. What seems to be the problem with the oven?”
I whiled away the next hour in silence. Both Rose and her mother left me alone while I got to work. This surprised me, especially after what had happened upstairs.
Was this my life now? Wondering if Rose would hang around and bother me because she could and because she knew it affected me? I had to admit that it didn’t sound unpleasant.
I glanced through the kitchen door down the hallway to the open front door. Rose was sitting on the doorstep talking away happily with her mother, not a care in the world as she laughed and complained and told her mom about the latest issue released of the magazine she worked for.
It suddenly occurred to me that she had arrived in Frazier Falls much earlier than planned, and I’d never found out why. Looking at her with her mother, I reasoned that she must have missed home even if she spent half her time complaining about the place. Would she ever consider coming back? No way. That magazine said everything about her. It wasn’t what was honest and true, but how she could make things look that mattered.
I shook my head to get rid of the thoughts. Her life didn’t concern me. I had to be sure it remained that way for my own sanity.
Chapter Sixteen
Rose
“What’ll it be, ladies?” I arrived at Reilly’s ready to drink, but Carla had other ideas.
“Coffees, for now, John.”
“Nonsense. You’re in the final stages of planning your wedding—surely some mimosas are in the cards?”
Carla laughed. “You trying to compete with The Bobbly Olive?”
From behind the bar, John waggled his finger knowingly. “I always knew how to make good cocktails, Carl. I think you’ve all been spending too much time with beer and whiskey drinkers in here and have forgotten that I can make any drink you want. I spent my twenties working on a cruise ship, you know.”
I widened my eyes. “No way. I never had you pegged for a cruise ship guy.” Thinking of old John as Mr. Love Boat made me giggle.
“Maybe you should spend more time getting to know your barman,” he replied, a twinkle in his eye. “Might be he’s actually the most interesting guy in town, instead of those Coopers.”
Emily, who, despite not being one of Carla’s bridesmaids, had become part of the bridal party, looked at the man with disbelief. “I seem to recall you pushing me onto them when I first came home to look after my ma.”
He shrugged. “It’s not like I could be with all of you lovely ladies, though that’s a damn shame.”
We all laughed. Carla’s other two bridesmaids—friends from college—were running late, having been on bachelorette planning duty. I still couldn’t believe it was less than a week to the party, and ten days to Carla’s big day.
“Are you still set on those coffees, Carl?” John asked, smiling. “Or are you upgrading them?”
She glanced at Emily and me before breaking out into a grin. “Okay. You’ve twisted our arms. Upgrade away.”
I wasn’t complaining about the change from caffeine to alcohol. A couple of days had passed since I’d slept with Paxton, and while the two of us had noncommittally messaged each other over the past forty-eight hours, we hadn’t met up in person. I hoped that we would, but at the same time, somewhat dreaded it. Was round one a fluke and round two would be a disappointment? Not possible.
The more time I spent with him, the more I realized how much I liked him, and that scared me. I had a life in New York I’d be happy to get back to after Carla’s wedding. The last thing I needed was an attachment to Paxton. He was a complication I wasn’t prepared to face.
New York and Frazier Falls weren’t too far away. If he and I were inclined to see each other on a regular basis, it was under four hours on a plane. We could travel every few months if we chose. It wasn’t like I would never be back here. It was simply that I was usually only here for a couple of days at a time to see my mom. Spending time with Paxton would make good use of my often-neglected vacation days.
I laughed at the notion. Was I trying to plan out a long-term arrangement with a guy I wasn’t even sure would want to sleep with me again? No doubt he wanted to, but with Paxton, that didn’t mean he would. After everything that had happened, there was still a reluctance there—I saw it plain as day when I shortened his name the way his brothers did. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to let me in.
He was entitled to those feelings because I hadn’t exactly made life easy for him back when we were kids. Even if he had forgiven me, he was allowed to be cautious and should be cautious.
We had agreed to our own version of behaving in the run-up to the wedding, which for me included getting into bed with him again. Now the ball was in his court. If it was going to happen again, it would be up to him. No way would I throw myself at him in desperation. I still had my pride.
At least when I’m sober. I sipped on my mimosa, forcing my attention back to Carla. We were here to finalize a few details for her wedding, and I needed to listen.
“And with that, we’re done,” she said. “I can happily move on to the far more interesting topic of conversation like what is Rose thinking about right now? My bet is on a Cooper brother, and it’s not Owen or Eli.”
“Do we have to talk about that?” I complained.
She nodded enthusiastically enough to make her curly hair bounce. “Absolutely. You’ve been cagey with the details, so you bet your ass you’re telling Emily and me what happened.”
I glanced at Emily. “Are you at all interested in this?”
She laughed. “I do happen to like Paxton, so I have to admit I’m curious to learn about the kind of woman he’s into.”
I made a face. “I wouldn’t know. I think I’m a weird exception for him.”
“Because you went to school together?”
I shook my head. “No. Well, yes we went to school together, but I think it’s more the—”
“Incessant teasing and name-calling,” Carla cut in. She explained my history with Paxton to Emily in a few succinct sentences.
Emily narrowed her eyes. “Please tell me you apologized for acting like that as a kid.”
“I did.” I sighed. “It was like shoving a golf ball through a Coke bottle to do it, but I did. I think he and I are finally on even footing.”
“You did sleep with him, right?” Carla asked, smirking.
“There was no sleep.” I looked away. “And it didn’t happen after your cocktail party. It was the next day.”
Carla’s and Emily’s faces lit up with interest. “How did that happen?” Emily asked. “I mean, didn’t the two of you go home together?”
“How could you not get it on after the party?” Carla asked incredulously. “You hardly stopped staring at each other the entire night. You were like kindling and flame.” Her hands burst into the air. “Explosive.”
“It’s a long story, but we didn’t sleep together until he came around to help my mom out.”
“So … how was it?” Carla tossed back her mimosa and held up her glass for another.
“Fast,” I admitted. “We were both riled up. But it was great. Pretty damn great.”
Carla’s brows disappeared under the sweep of her bangs. “You only did it once?”
I nodded. “He still had to fix the oven, and my mom was home. We didn’t want to raise suspicion, not that she didn’t work out what was going on anyway.”
“Are you gonna keep hooking up while you’re back here?” Emily asked. “You are going back to New York after the wedding, aren’t you?”
I nodded again. “Yeah, I’m going back, and I don’t know if we’ll hook up again, to be honest.”
“But you want to,” Carla added.
Everything inside me reacted to the thought. “Obviously.”
She laughed at t
hat. “Obviously? See, I said you had it bad for him. You never wanted to admit it back when we were teenagers.”
“Shut up. It’s mortifying to think that all this time, I actually liked him. Ugh, it’s disgusting.”
“You sure you’re not the weird one instead of him?”
“That possibility makes it worse.”
We were interrupted when Carla’s brother Rich entered the bar. He saw the three of us, smiled brightly, and then approached. “I’m only in to drop something off. See you at home, Carl.” He was in and out of the bar in a matter of seconds after handing something over to John.
Seeing the man in question reminded me of what my mom had said about Rich, and how Nick had asked if there were any not so straight men in Frazier Falls who’d be at Carla’s wedding.
“Carla,” I murmured, keeping my voice low. She and Emily immediately sidled in closer like I was giving out state secrets. “For reasons I shall keep private for now, but which definitely involve my mom being a busybody, I can’t help but ask …”
She glanced at the door, then back at me. “Is this about Rich? You trying to set him up?”
I bit my lip as I wondered how to word my question. “Kind of. Maybe. Um … is he straight? I realized that I don’t know.”
Carla held a hand to her mouth as if to stop herself from laughing out loud. She glanced at John behind the bar before replying, “I don’t know, either. I mean, I know of a couple girls he’s slept with, and he went out with someone in college, but he always referred to the person in neutral terms. To this day, I have no idea if it was a guy or a girl.”
“He might not be.” Nick would be so excited if that was the case.
She shrugged. “It’s not something I’d ever push for him to talk about. If he wants to discuss it with me, then I’d be happy to lend an ear, but it’s his personal life. All I want is for him to be happy. I don’t care who he loves.”
“I agree wholeheartedly.” I tucked the idea away. “I didn’t mean to intrude by asking. I think my mom got into my head.”
She laughed softly. “You still put too much stock into what other people say and think. Ah, well, at least you’re not as bad as you were back when we were kids.”
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