by B. Cranford
“I can’t help myself. I have a beautiful, naked Lenny in my lap. You’re not the only one feeling good.”
I shifted, sitting up enough that I could cup his cheeks and bring our lips together. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
I wanted to tell him what I was feeling. Maybe roll down the window and yell it across the rest area, so the truckers parked over there knew it too.
But the timing didn’t feel right. It was too soon; we were too new. And I wasn’t willing to take that big of a risk.
Not yet. Not with my heart on the line.
Instead, I lazily kissed him, closing my eyes to heighten the feel of his tongue sweeping into my mouth, his hands caressing my body, bringing me back to that near-desperate state that had resulted in us veering off the interstate and into this darkened parking place.
“I want you again,” Rowan murmured, an echo of my own thoughts. “But we shouldn’t.”
I leaned back, lifting an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”
His groan was pained. “I want to take you back to my place. I want to make love to you in my bed.”
“I want that too.”
Chapter Fourteen
Rowan
We dressed quickly, laughing as we ducked and weaved in the small space. Part of me regretted that we weren’t going to have an encore, but the rest of me couldn’t wait to see her in my home.
In the back of my mind, I could see her there always. A reckless, who-cares-how-long-we’ve-known-each-other part that wanted to throw caution to the wind and ask her to move in with me.
She was moving anyway. Why not in with me?
Because it hasn’t been long enough. You don’t want to scare her away. A voice of reason, unwelcome and logical.
“Can I tell you something?” she asked as I stood next to the car, holding out a hand to help her out. “Something silly?”
“You can tell me anything.” Fact.
“I-I feel like I could get behind that wheel right now.” She pointed through the passenger side window to the driver’s side. “I could do it without quaking or freaking out or needing a moment. Is that dumb?”
Dumb? “Hell no, it’s not dumb. That’s amazing, Challenger.” Leaning in, I kissed her flushed cheek—her embarrassment over her admission wasn’t visible with the way this part of the rest area was barely lit, but I could feel it. The heat of her reddening cheeks.
It was adorable. Is that dumb? Maybe I should be the one blushing.
“Do you want to try?” I offered, holding up the keys so she could take them if she wanted to. “No pressure. We can do a couple of spins around here. Practice parking.”
She considered it, her head tilting to the side. I could just make out the small smile creeping across her face when she reached out and grabbed the keys. “I’m going to do it.”
Lenny was laughing when she stumbled through my front door ahead of me. The sight of her in my house, smile in place, happiness basically pouring out of her wasn’t something I could have ever prepared for.
“I was so good,” she boasted, reaching out to grab my hand and drag me inside.
I hadn’t even realized I was still standing in the doorway—I was too mesmerized by her.
“The best.”
“Definitely.” She nodded. “And that dent in your front bumper is easily fixed, right?”
“No trouble. It’ll knock right out.”
“I don’t think the rest area staff will care about that one tree that’s slightly . . . wonky now, will they?”
I grinned at her. “Absolutely not. The tree was collateral damage to a good cause.”
She busted out laughing. “Oh my god, imagine if I had actually knocked down a tree. And dented your car!” She pulled a cringe face that made me want to pull her into my arms. “I’d have had to move away. Change my name. Start over.”
“Yikes. That seems—”
“Excessive? Maybe. Terrifying? One hundred percent. My only chance to recover from the horror? Yes.”
Unable to resist any longer, I pulled back on the hand she was still holding, enjoying the way she spun into my arms—literally spun. I’m not getting all mushy on you, I promise. She effected a little pirouette move that was made graceful by the way one of her long, long legs kicked out, pointed toe and all. ”Fancy.”
“I’m a fancy lady.” She pressed her forehead against my temple, her warm breath drifting across my skin. “And hyper. I can hear myself being ridiculous, and I can’t seem to stop.”
Turning my head so our foreheads came together, I wrapped my arms around her waist. “I don’t want you to stop. You’re so—”
“Crazed?”
I frowned. “Not what I was going to say.”
“Over the top?”
“Happy.” I lifted her off the ground and spun her around, some of her over the top seemingly rubbing off on me. “I love seeing you like this.”
Her face turned shy as she pulled back a little. Not so far that I thought she was trying to escape, but like she wanted to be able to look at me. I didn’t know why until she said, “I’ve never felt like this. So, I don’t know, light. Excited.” A long pause, her teeth nipping out to nibble on her lower lip. “Alive. I feel alive, Row. Like that day on Avalanche, but without all the shaky terror. I think I’m finally doing this life thing properly.”
Some part of me hated the idea that she hadn’t been living “properly,” at least according to her. But the rest of me was fucking thrilled that she felt that way—and that I’d been able to help her find that. “I’m proud of you, Challenger. Maybe I’ve already said it, I really can’t remember, but if I have, it bears repeating. You’re incredible.”
She didn’t say anything, but her eyes softened, and before I knew it, we were kissing. It started slow, the urgency behind it increasing each moment our lips remained locked together.
I would never get tired of kissing her.
I could’ve stayed there forever—okay, maybe not forever, because the way she was sighing into my mouth, her tongue stroking against mine as her arms around my neck tightened, made my entire body rigid. One particular part especially.
The point is, it was a moment I wanted to last, I wanted to enjoy. Which makes the fact that I broke it with an ill-conceived, shouldn’t-have-been-spoken-aloud thought all the more stupid.
“Move in with me.”
Chapter Fifteen
Lenny
I wanted to say yes.
I wanted to so badly, and damn it, I nearly did. But my racing heart and ’fraidy cat tendencies soon won out over the romantic part of me that was screaming at me that this was it.
“Rowan . . .” I unwound my arms from his neck and took a step back, already regretting the distance I needed to put between us, so I didn’t say something impulsive.
To be honest, I’d never had to worry about impulsive before—it was a nice change. But also not. Because, did I mention I wanted to say yes?
“I shouldn’t have said it. Shit.” He made a motion like pulling his glasses off even though he wasn’t wearing them, instead opting to pinch the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry.”
Deflated. That’s the only word I have to describe how I felt right then. Because even though I’d planned to refuse—as gently as possible while keeping this thing between us intact—it hurt to hear him wish it away.
“No, I-I’m sorry,” I stumbled a bit over the words, scrambling for something to say. I no longer wanted to say yes—that moment was gone—but I did want to tell him I was tempted.
That I felt it too, the connection that had grown and grown between us until falling for him had become easy.
It was strange to think that I could have gone from fearful to fine in no time at all, at least in this arena, but it was him. The man who’d seen something in me that very first day and hadn’t given up even when anyone else in their right mind probably would have.
“You’re not saying anything,” he remarked, face searching mine carefully.
“I was thinking. Got sidetracked.” Did I dare tell him what had been running through my mind?
“Thinking that now I’m the crazy one?”
I smiled, though it felt a little forced. “I said ‘crazed,’ not crazy. Big difference.”
Like my smile, his answering smirk seemed off. Unnatural. “Oh, yeah. Huge.”
He opened his mouth to speak again, but I quickly stalled him. And by stalled him, I mean I moved back close enough to place my hand over his mouth. “Give me one second, okay? I just need to—”
He cocked an eyebrow at me when I cut myself off abruptly, and I shook my head. “One second,” I repeated, willing my courage—which I’d celebrated only a minute earlier—to come back long enough to say what needed to be said.
Deep breath in through the nose, out through the mouth. Repeat as many times as necessary to get over yourself and say it, Eleanora Johnstone.
It was Willa’s voice in my head, full-naming me, telling me what to do. Telling me to push through.
I did.
“I know you said you’re sorry. And maybe you meant it when you said you wanted to take it back. But on the off chance you didn’t, I need to tell you: I want to say yes.” I watched as his eyes widened, putting a teensy bit more pressure on the hand over his mouth because I wasn’t done yet. “I want to, but I can’t. I like you so, so much”—actually, I love you, I thought, not ready to share that yet, not like this—“and I want us to keep doing this. Us.”
His nod was minute, and it caused the faintest brush of his lips against my palm. The tingles it shot through me raised goose bumps across the landscape of my body and gave me a momentary respite from the sudden weight of the moment.
“So, can I say not ‘no,’ but not yet, instead? Because”—another deep breath in as I clutched and clawed at all the bravery I could find, scooping it toward me like a pile of winning poker chips—“I think that’s where we are headed. More than that, I want that to be where we’re headed. Because when I say I’m crazed? Rowan, I’m crazed over you.”
His hand came up slowly, wrapping around my wrist and holding it steady for a heartbeat before he kissed my palm and pulled my hand away from his mouth. Inside my chest, my heart was pounding in a way that usually sent my hands into nervous overdrive. But with one caged in Rowan’s grasp and the other somehow fisted in his shirt, that poor organ merely sped up and up and up.
Until he grinned so wide, his happy crinkles deepened beside his eyes and his perfectly white teeth nearly blinded me. And said, “I’m crazy about you. How about I help you move—now, and when we get to where we’re headed?”
“Deal.”
The next few weeks were insane. Between finding a place to live, moving into it, and starting at my new job, finding time to spend with Rowan was difficult. But we managed. And, eventually, fell into a routine that worked for us.
Smiling as I answered the phone, I didn’t bother with pleasantries. “My place or yours?”
His answering laugh was warm, the question a familiar, daily refrain. I could hear the telltale shuffling and murmurs in the background that told me he was finishing up for the day and knew that’s why he was calling. “Yours.”
I was already nodding, but before I could answer, his sister spoke, her voice distant. “Hey, Lenny, get Rowan to tell you about the extraction he performed today. Super gory.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. Every day, whether we saw each other or simply spoke on the phone, I asked Rowan whether he’d ripped any teeth out, or terrified an unsuspecting patient to the point of tears. Don’t ask me why—it started as a joke after we watched some horror movie with a killer dentist and his bloodthirsty assistant—but it had become one of those things we did.
Like me telling him I was crazy about him, and him replying that he was crazed over me. I knew it was a substitute for “I love you,” but it was ours.
And I kind of loved it. Especially when I’d find notes hidden all over my place that he’d left as a reminder.
“Super gory, huh?” I asked when he’d finished telling Sailor she was annoying and definitely not his favorite sister.
“It wasn’t even close to gory. There was a little bit of blood. And a small chunk of gum. Nothing major.”
“Ew,” I shuddered. Even if he was messing with me—and I was sure he was—the visual was unpleasant. Wanting to avoid that topic, I veered back to the original one. “So, my place? I can make that pasta with sun-dried tomatoes.”
His humming reply told me he approved. “I’m just finishing up, then I’ll head home to grab some stuff and be over, okay?”
“See you soon.”
“Can’t wait.”
I was grinning like a loon when I ended the call, staring at the picture of us that was the background on my phone. It was the picture we’d taken that day at Island Heights, the one he’d sent to Willa, so she’d know who I was with in case he ended up being a psycho murderer.
Thank god he wasn’t.
Shaking my head at the idea that Rowan could ever be someone to fear, I gathered the rest of my stuff and headed home. The apartment I’d found was close enough that I could ride my bike, though I occasionally had Rowan drop me off in the morning if he’d stayed over and I was late, or the weather was murky.
Those were my favorite days—when I got to spend a little more time with him.
Phone ringing as I walked through my front door, I expected it to be Rowan giving me an update on where he was, so I answered without thinking. “Nearly here, handsome?”
“Lenny?” Willa’s voice was soft, whispered, and my senses immediately perked up. Something had been going on with her since she’d visited, and I was hoping she was finally ready to tell me.
Trying not to freak out on her, so she wouldn’t freak out on me, I asked, “Hey, are you all right? You sound weird.”
“I’m fine. I have some stuff to tell you, but . . . right now, can you just talk to me instead? Tell me something, anything. I need a distraction.”
“Oh-kayyy.” Odd. But then again, it was Willa. “One of my kids called me Mommy today. First time it’s happened at the new school. It finally feels like home.” I smiled at the memory of Adrian slipping up in the way six-year-olds sometimes did and blushing his embarrassment.
Willa, when she replied, already sounded more normal, “Cute. What did you say?”
“Nothing. Just answered his question and moved on.” Hiding a smile, I might add. “And I got asked to join some of the other teachers for drinks on Friday night, so I’m making progress. Proud of me?”
“You know I am, Len.”
A rush of warmth settled over me as I headed into my kitchen to start making dinner. Here I was, talking with my twin sister who I loved—even if she was holding out on me—in a new place, with a new job, finally living my life.
Loving my life.
I was still feeling the afterglow when I hung up with Willa, after promising to get to the bottom of whatever was going on with her and opened the cupboard that held my pots and pans.
Stuck to the inside of the door was the picture of Rowan and me from Island Heights, only it wasn’t the good one, the one I used as wallpaper on my phone. It was the bad one—multiple chins and moving lips. Damn, it even had bad lighting. The sight of it startled a laugh out of me, and when I pulled it down, I noticed writing on the back.
Rowan’s.
Challenger,
Remember this day? I knew right away you were the one, even if you needed a little convincing to leave the premises with me.
I love you. When you’re ready, you can tell me the same, because I know you love me too. But until then, there’s something else I want you to remember—I’m crazed about you.
Rowan
My tears were happy. I was happy. And fully prepared to launch myself at my boyfriend the second he walked in the door.
Which he did, moments later.
Photo still clutched in my hand, I leaped into his arms and peppere
d his face with kisses before he’d even closed the front door. “I’m crazy about you.”
“Yeah?” He looked almost arrogant, his perfectly white teeth and happy crinkles doing wicked things to my insides. “Tell me about it.”
I wanted to. I did.
Hell, I even started to, until a familiar, unwelcome sense of nervousness, anxiety welled up and threatened to ruin the moment entirely. Shoving it back, I made a silent commitment to figure out a way past it, so I could tell him without the fear. So, I could enjoy this moment and his love.
One day I’d tell him. And I’d tell him without the fear of falling over my words or falling apart because what I felt was too much. Until then, I’d show him.
Which, after slamming the door closed behind him and leading him back to my bedroom, is exactly what I did.
Chapter Sixteen
Several Months Later
Rowan
I watched my car as it turned into the parking lot of my dental practice, smiling when the reverse lights came on, and it smoothly slid back into the spot that was marked as mine. Perfectly spaced between the lines, not too far forward, not too far back.
Exactly right. Lenny was so comfortable and confident behind the wheel now, it was probably time for her to get her own car. But honestly, I liked sharing mine with her.
It meant she always had to come back to me, and I was fine with that.
Also, my car had the remote stop feature, so if she did try to steal it—and steal away—I could stop her in her tracks and try to win her back.
What? It was a solid plan and not at all problematic.
Smiling, I moved quickly to open the door for her as she switched off the engine and climbed out of the driver’s seat, making sure to catch her lips in a quick but heady kiss. Even after months of kissing her, I still couldn’t get enough.