Bottle It Up: (A Between the Pines Novel)

by Lisa Shelby

  Chapter 24

  “Bonjour? Vérifiez-vous, monsieur?”

  “Yes, we have reservations under Slim Shady.”

  I chuckle to myself as I hear Max checking us in behind me, but I’m so mesmerized by the beauty of the Shangri-La Hotel the hilarity of the pseudonym he’s used for our reservations barely registers.

  Corporate travel and booking trips for the bigwigs at my company is what I do for a living, yet here I am, all wide-eyed and mouth agape as I take in the opulence surrounding us. I know how much a hotel of this caliber costs, and I cannot believe this is where we’re staying.

  I’ve stayed in beautiful hotels with Josh in the States and a couple of times in Mexico, but this isn’t a beach vacation. This is the vacation I’ve always dreamed of. But this is even more than I could have imagined. The Shangri-La is grand, luxe, and home for the next week. And the fact that a place this beautiful is smack dab in the heart of Paris intensifies my excitement.

  I’m in Paris.

  The City of Love.

  With Max.

  I’m so lost in my own head that I jump when he whispers in my ear. “C’mon, Firefly.”

  He takes my hand in his, claiming me publicly, and there is no longer anything more beautiful than the feeling of being his. Because I am, heart and soul. I know this already, and our relationship has only just begun.

  We’re on the elevator with the bellhop who has all of our luggage on a rack, and the ride to our room is so quiet that when Max brings our interlaced hands up to his mouth and kisses the back of my hand, all I can hear is my thunderous heart beating to the new rhythm it seems to beat to when Max’s lips touch me. No matter how sweet the act, it still sets me on fire.

  The bellhop opens the door to our room and steps aside so we can enter. Once we’re all inside, he steps around us and opens the French doors that lead to a terrace. I’d say I was tired from the overnight flight we were just on, and this is why my eyes well up when I see our view, but that’s a lie. I slept soundly in Max’s arms for at least seven hours of the flight.

  No, it’s the perfection of it all that has me tearing up. There are floor-to-ceiling windows on one entire side of the room with a view of the city, in particular the Eiffel Tower. I’m standing next to the bed, and it’s right there.

  I hear Max thank the gentleman for helping us to our room, followed by the door clicking shut. Within moments, his body is pressed against mine from behind as his arms wrap around my waist.

  “You’ve been quiet since we got here. What’s going on in that beautiful head of yours?”

  “Max, it’s just...I don’t even know what to say. It’s beautiful.”

  “So, you like it?”

  I turn in his arms so I can see a view even more stunning than the one from our terrace. Golden eyes, scruff littered with flecks of silver, and every rugged scar on his face takes my breath away. My fingers instinctually reach to touch the scar above his eyebrow and then trace his jawline until I reach his mouth. My thumb gently pulls on his bottom lip.

  “It’s perfect, Max. You’re perfect.”

  When I lift up on my toes to kiss him, he bends to meet me. Kissing me softly he searches my soul with his gaze, telling me so much more than words ever could.

  His large hands hold the sides of my face as though I’m a fragile piece of china. His thumbs caressing my cheeks, he pulls his lips away pressing his forehead to mine.

  “Emmett Ford, I am so fucking in love with you it hurts.”

  “Max...”

  “Shh...just let me love you, Emmett. I don’t want to wait another minute.”

  “Yes,” I say.

  He steps away and pulls the covers back on the bed, then kicks his shoes off, stepping to where I’m frozen to the spot unable to comprehend that he’s finally going to take me. I’ve been dreaming about it for three months now, and the moment is not only here but the Eiffel Tower will have a full view.

  He pulls on the end of the cream scarf Josh gave me for Christmas, and the feel of it sliding across my neck ever so slowly is setting the tone for what’s to come. He drops it to the floor before slipping my wool coat off my shoulders, letting it join the scarf at our feet.

  He removes his coat and throws it to the floor and then quickly adds his charcoal cashmere sweater and undershirt to the pile growing on the floor. I’ve slept on his bare chest in the past, but seeing him presenting himself to me is a sight to behold. He’s broad and solid and all muscle. Only his muscles aren’t for looks; they serve a purpose.

  To protect.

  He has a six-pack but not like a starved model has a six-pack. He’s thick at the same time. Standing in front of him while his barreled chest rises and falls with his lust-filled breaths leaves me breathless and needing him to fill my lungs with his so I don’t pass out.

  Leaving me completely clothed, he removes the rest of his clothes until he’s left in only his black boxer briefs. Reaching out my fingers, I trace over one of his pecs, and I can feel the sexual tension coursing under his skin. I step closer until I’m near enough to press my lips to where his heart beats within his chest.

  As I pepper his chest with my kisses, he keeps his hands down at his sides, letting me push us forward. My hands flatten as they drag over his torso and down his abdomen until reaching the waistband of his briefs where one of my fingers teases along the edge.

  Stepping back, I kick off my shoes and pull off my leggings. Now farther back from him, I can see what my caresses have done to him as he strains against the one article of clothing still covering him.

  Pulling my sweater over my head and adding to the ever-growing pile of winter clothes on the floor, I stand before him in just my bra and panties.

  Reaching behind me for the clasp on my bra, I look up, and his eyes are on mine. Not on my body but on my face. Telling me this is more to him than just sex. With the clasp undone, I stop before fully exposing myself to him. I need to make sure his feelings are matched.

  Closing the gap between us, I rest my hands on his chest, and my head tips back to look up at him. “I love you, Max.” His eyes close, and his face softens in relief. “So much,” I say, kissing his chest once again.

  His hands finally touch me, caressing my back.

  “Make love to me, Max.”

  His rough fingers trail up to my shoulders to my bra straps where he slips them off my shoulders, and I drop my arms to my sides, letting it fall to the ground.

  Stepping over the clutter now below us, he turns me so the back of my legs touch the mattress, and he encourages me to lie back on the bed. I scoot back and lay my head on the mountain of soft downy pillows offering myself to him as he stands above me, drinking me in.

  For the briefest of moments, my insecurities about my body sneak into my conscience, but I remember the first time he told me he loved my ass and that he thought my body was a masterpiece. The memory of his words gives me the confidence I need as I lift my hips just enough to slip my panties off, so I’m not hiding anything from him.

  “You are perfect, Emmett. There is simply no other way to describe you.”

  Lifting up on my elbows, I quirk an eyebrow that says, are you going to leave me here on my own or are you going to join me? No words are needed. He knows what I’m asking.

  He finally slips off his briefs, and his erection springs free when he does. He climbs into the bed but leaves the covers pulled back, not hiding either of us. Baring ourselves to one another body and soul.

  Except to call out each other's names, no other words are spoken as we give ourselves to each other. He explores every inch of my body, and by the time the sun sets on the Parisian streets below, I know his by heart.

  Famished from spending all day making love, we ordered half the room service menu and ate in our hotel robes. Now we’re lounging in the large luxurious bathtub, the signature Shangri-La scent surrounding us as the hotel candles flicker their ambient light all around us. The scent of vanilla, sandal, musk, and highlights of ginge
r tea intoxicate us as if our self-induced bliss wasn’t enough.

  We talked about our childhoods, first kisses, proms, hangovers, and broken hearts. I’ve listened to him gush about Nicholas and how proud he is of the young man he’s turning into. We’ve even talked about his ex and how much better they’ve gotten along since she found love again. As open as we’ve been, I’m hesitant to ask my next question, but I want to know everything there is to know about him.

  “Max, why did you stay away from home for so long? You seem so close to your parents and your brother. I just can’t imagine anything keeping you apart.”

  My question is met with silence. With my back lying against his chest, I can’t see the expression on his face to know what kind of emotion my question has evoked. I keep my head resting on his shoulder and give him the privacy not being able to see his face can give him. But when he still doesn’t answer minutes later, I start to change the subject but stop when his arms come out of the water to wrap around my shoulders, and he places a soft kiss against my temple before speaking quietly.

  “You’re right. I am close to my family, and I was away from them for far too long. I tried to go home when I first got out of the military, but I was no longer the eighteen-year-old boy I had been when I first left. I had seen things. Done things that changed who I was inside. Don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t ashamed of any of my time in the military. My time serving my country made me the man I am today.”

  “I quite like the man you are today, if you don’t mind me saying?” I interject as he pauses in thought.

  “And I’m glad you do, but I was no longer my mom’s son, at least not the one who left Phillipsburg for the Marine Corps. When I would come home to visit, she wanted to wait on me hand and foot and treat me like I was still her little boy, but I had grown into a man. A man who had fought and killed to keep not only myself but also my brothers-in-arms alive. For some reason, it got under my skin to be treated like I always had been. In fact, when I would go home, I tended to get into fights at the local bars and even got kicked out of a few. One night, I overheard my parents talking about how worried they were for me and how they couldn’t believe I was behaving this way in my hometown, in the community I grew up in. Emmett, hearing their disappointment sent me into a spiral of shame, and I told myself I wouldn’t go back to Phillipsburg until I was the kind of man they could be proud of.”

  “Oh, honey. They were just worried about you. I’m sure they’ve always been proud of you.”

  “Well, after that, I stopped going home on leave, and I stayed in California instead. Eventually, I met Lauryn, and I had an excuse not to go home. When Mom and Dad found out she was pregnant, they did come visit so they could meet the mother of their grandchild, and then they’ve come back a couple of times a year since Nick was born.”

  “But you said it had only been three years since you had been home. That seems like a lot more than three years ago that you stopped going home.”

  “Well, I went home when Alex and Malory got married, and when the guys all got married. I was in their weddings. I was there for Dad’s retirement party and then again when my grandmother passed away. I’ve gone back when there has been a reason to, but I never stayed long, and I never missed the look of concern my mom would have every time I would go out in the evenings. She was so afraid I was going to tarnish the family name, and it hurt. Mostly, it hurt knowing I caused that kind of concern.”

  “What about Nick? Did you ever take him back to Phillipsburg?”

  “No, and I’m ashamed of that. Alex and his family have been out to LA and stayed with us. They did the whole Disneyland thing, and I played tour guide. So they’ve met Nick, but I haven’t taken him home. I’m not sure why either. After taking you there and spending real time with everyone, I can’t wait to take him. I want him to see where I grew up, to meet my friends, and to spend more time with my parents and Alex’s kids. It couldn’t be more different than LA, and I think it would be good for him.”

  “He’ll love it so much. And with your new custody schedule, I would imagine it will make things that much easier.”

  “It will, and I already plan on taking him out for spring break. I don’t want to put it off any longer.”

  “I think that’s a great idea.”

  Feeling the hard part is over, I break from his embrace and turn to face him. Sloshing a bit of the water over the side of the tub.

  “Thanks for sharing that with me.”

  “There isn’t really much to share. I was stubborn and stupid and let my pride get in the way. It was selfish and immature.” He shrugs. “Thanks to you, I went back and I’m putting an end to all of that bullshit.” He lifts my fingers out of the water and kisses the tip of my forefinger. “Now, let’s get out of this tub before we shrivel up. We can plan the rest of the week and get some sleep so we can get an early start in the morning.”

  He’s not looking at me when he talks, staring at my fingers instead. Embarrassed by his behavior.

  “I love you,” I say, hoping to get his attention.

  “I don’t deserve you, but I love you too, baby.”

  He stands, and water trickles off his body. I stare in a trance watching the beauty before me. He grabs a towel but doesn't dry himself off. He unfolds it, holding it open to me. Standing, I step out of the tub, where he wraps the towel around me.

  He dries me off, then himself before covering my body in lotion. The rest of the evening is spent in bed planning our week before making love one more time.

  We fall asleep in each other's arms.

  Curtains open with the City of Love surrounding us.

  Chapter 25

  Stopping on the stone steps outside the grand Paris Opera House, I pull one of my gloves off with my teeth and shove it in my pocket before bringing out my phone to call Josh. I’ve learned how to do things with one hand this past week because one of them is always in Max’s hand, and I’m not letting go for anything.

  Opening the FaceTime app, I call Josh, watching a cloud of my warm breath float on the cold Parisian air while I wait for him to pick up.

  “Well, there she is! How's my girl liking France?” Josh’s tired face beams up at me from the screen.

  “Bonjour!”

  “Oh, she’s already taken up the language. I like it.” He yawns.

  “I’m so sorry did I wake you up?”

  “Nah, I have to get up soon anyway, and I haven’t talked to you in days. Tell me all about it, Emmy.”

  “Oh, Josh, this place is amazing. I can’t believe it’s taken me so long to get here. To leave North America, for that matter. I’ve been missing out on so much. Thank you for letting us borrow the plane. It’s been a dream trip, and it was an incredibly extravagant yet sweet gift.”

  A toddler runs up the stairs behind us, scaring a group of pigeons causing them to fly away over my head and me to duck for imaginary cover.

  “Ha! Even in Paris you can’t escape your nemesis, le pigeon.”

  He’s right. I hate them, and they hate me. This is something Max can also attest to because they seem to be everywhere we go this week.

  “Ugh, they are so evil!”

  “Only to you. Now, tell me what your favorite part of the trip has been so far?”

  “Well if I’m being honest...I probably shouldn’t share with small children around.” Max lifts my gloved hand and brings it to his lips. We have seen all the sights of the city, but we’ve also spent plenty of time to ourselves in our hotel room falling deeper and deeper into one another.

  Josh’s eyes grow large, but his smile says it all. “Now, that’s what I like to hear. Speaking of the man of the hour, where is he? You aren’t out on the streets alone, are you?”

  Tugging on Max’s hand, I pull him down next to me, and he rests his chin on my shoulder. “Hey, Josh. How’s it going?” he asks, waving into the camera phone.

  “I know I don’t need to ask, but are things as quiet on your end as they are here?”

 
“Yep, I’ve been checking with the guys, and there hasn’t been a picture in the press or any threats since Emmett left LA for Eastlyn the week of Christmas.”

  “Good, that’s what I like to hear. Take care of my girl, Hopper. She means the world to me.”

  “I know exactly what you mean. I’ve got her, I promise.”

  Max steps out of frame but continues holding my hand while I go on about our week. Sharing everything with him just as I have since we were kids.

  “It’s such a romantic city, Josh. I wish I never had to leave. Right now, we’re standing out in front of the opera house. Here, take a look, isn't it gorgeous?”

  I hold my phone up so he can see the beautiful green domed building with its grandiose pillars and gold statues. Napoleon commissioned it in 1861. It’s magnificent.

  “So where else have you been?”

  “We’ve been everywhere. We were kinda stuck in the Louvre for about five hours, but we made it out eventually.”

  “What do you mean stuck?”

  “Well, the first four and a half hours were great, but then we spent thirty minutes trying to find the exit.”

  “Why didn’t you ask for help?”

  “We did! But no matter what we did, we just kept passing the same Greek statues over and over. I thought we would never get out of there.”

  “Max, did you let her navigate?” He yells so Max can hear him. “I should’ve warned you, never let her navigate!”

  Max pops his head back into frame. “I wish I could blame her, but the two of us were a disaster. It was just as much me as it was her.” He lands a peck on my cheek before stepping out of frame again.