Crazy for Your Love - Lexi Ryan

by Lexi Ryan

“How’s that?” I’m breathless from a simple kiss. Damn.

  “Not bad,” she answers, equally breathless.

  I pull back and tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “I’ll see you tomorrow, eyebrow.”

  She draws in a shaky breath. “Tomorrow.” She walks me to the door and opens it, smiling softly.

  I stop on her porch and turn back to her. “One more question.”

  “Shoot.”

  “Top or bottom?”

  She blinks. “What?” When I flash her my most lascivious grin, she rolls her eyes. “Goodnight, Carter.” Then she shuts the door.

  Teagan

  “Welcome, welcome!” Mom says, grinning widely as she greets Carter and me at the doors to the Hayhurst mansion. Tall, lithe, and exuding class, my mom is as beautiful today as she was when I was a little girl. She has honey-brown hair that she wears in an asymmetrical bob and blue eyes that brighten when she takes in Carter. “I’m LouAnn, Teagan’s mom. I’m so happy to meet the local hero!”

  Beside me, Carter stiffens, but he takes her offered hand and shakes it. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, ma’am. Teagan’s told me a lot about you.”

  “I wish I could say the same,” Mom says, flashing me a glare. “But my daughter’s been keeping your relationship a secret.”

  “We didn’t know if it would go anywhere,” I say. I’m sure I’m going to have to repeat the words a hundred times this weekend. I love my mom, but she takes the whole Catholic mom guilt-trip cliché to the next level.

  “She wasn’t sure,” Carter says, grinning at my mother in a way I’m sure will melt the ice-queen thing she’s got going on. “I’ve been biding my time until she was willing to give me a chance.”

  “Well,” Mom says, softening as I knew she would, “I can certainly see why she couldn’t resist.”

  Dad steps up beside her and smiles. I feel ten again at the sight of him in his typical dress pants and suit jacket, his dark hair parted to the side. I favor my father—the olive skin, and full lips, the build that leans more brickhouse than ballerina. Dad offers Carter his hand. “I’m Kamal. You must be Carter,” he says, his words still curled with shades of the accent that hasn’t quite disappeared in his thirty-some years in the U.S.

  “I am. It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir.”

  “Don’t mind my wife. She likes to worry.” He turns to me and opens his arms. “How’s my beautiful girl?”

  I step into his warm embrace, letting him hug me and wrap me in the scent of the cologne he’s worn since I was a little girl. “I’m fine, Daddy. How was your flight?”

  “Oh, fine, but I’m glad to finally be here. I don’t get to spend enough time with both of my girls under one roof anymore.” He kisses the top of my head before pulling away.

  “Kamal, we need to meet with the wedding planner,” Mom says. “She has a few items to run by us.”

  Dad huffs good-naturedly and tells Carter, “She means checks she needs me to write.”

  Carter laughs. “I won’t keep you. It was nice to meet you both.”

  “Likewise, Carter. We’ll all talk more at dinner, I’m sure.” Mom looks me over and frowns at the décolletage exposed by my V-neck sweater. “Try to dress appropriately, darling. It’s not at some wild dance club.”

  Carter doesn’t bother disguising his snort of amusement, but I sigh. “Yes, Mother.” And we both watch them go before Carter turns to me and examines my jeans and sweater.

  “Am I supposed to believe your mother thinks that sweater is scandalous?”

  I shake my head. “Like I said, conservative.”

  “Wow.” His gaze dips to the same V my mom disapproved of. “I hope you won’t be taking her fashion advice anytime soon.”

  I open my mouth to respond but am cut off by a shrieked “Tea-Tea!” and I turn to see my sister rushing toward me, her arms wide.

  I can’t help but smile when I see her. In my mind, Saanvi will always be the baby sister I got for Christmas. Many people told little-girl me that she wasn’t mine, but I didn’t believe them. When you ask Santa for a baby for Christmas and he delivers, she’s yours. So Saanvi was and always has been. Since I moved to Jackson Harbor, I haven’t gotten to visit her nearly as often as I’d like, but that hasn’t changed the surge of love that fills me every time I see her.

  She wraps her arms around me, and I hug her right back. “You’re glowing,” she says as she pulls away. Her gaze shifts to Carter as she gives a coy smile. “I think I know why.”

  I hate lying to her. My parents, I can deal. But Saanvi? Yeah, getting through this week is going to be hard. “This is Carter Jackson, my boyfriend.” The words are like glue on my tongue and don’t want to come off. But he takes my hand in his and gives me an extra squeeze of reassurance. I’m so epically grateful for his friendship. “Carter, this is my sister, Saanvi.”

  Carter flashes her his charming, panty-melting smile—though, to be fair, I’m not sure he has another one. “It’s a pleasure to meet Teagan’s favorite sister.”

  “I’m her only sister,” Saanvi says, smiling. “I’m glad to meet you too. I’ve heard so much about you—your whole family, actually.” Saanvi ignores his offered hand and pulls Carter into a hug. He rolls with it. The Jacksons are all comfortable with physical affection. Maybe it’s one of the reasons I adore Carter’s family so much. Right up there with everything about them. My sister squeezes his biceps as she pulls back. “Dang, I can see why Tea likes you! Well done, muscles.”

  “Don’t you have your own man to grope somewhere around here?” I ask my sister.

  “He’s upstairs getting us settled into our room.”

  I arch a brow. “Your room? Mom’s letting you share a room with Liam before you say your vows?” I can’t imagine the parents I was raised by allowing their daughter to share a room with her husband before the wedding.

  “I insisted,” she says with a shrug. She lowers her voice. “I’ve discovered that if I play the but it’s my wedding card, Mom will bend to almost anything I ask.”

  Carter shifts to stand behind me. It’s not a struggle to act normal when he wraps his arms around my waist and pulls my back to his front. In fact, the struggle is in reminding myself that this is all pretend. This is going to be our “normal” this weekend, and I need to remind myself that it doesn’t mean anything. Even if it feels . . . easy.

  A moment later, I catch sight of Rich out of the corner of my eye and understand what Carter’s doing. Rich is in the common living area off the foyer talking to my uncle, but I can feel his attention on me. On us. I lean into Carter’s touch. His heat. Damn, he smells good.

  “Saanvi?” A tall brunette in a pencil skirt appears from the hall, hands folded as she walks over to us. “The chef wants to run a couple of ideas by you for breakfast. Would you follow me?”

  “Valarie, this is my big sister. Teagan, this is Valarie, my wedding planner,” my sister says. She whispers, “Val is the best money Mom ever spent. She’s a genius.”

  Val gives me a broad smile and nods. “I’ve heard so much about you, Teagan.”

  “It’s nice to meet you,” I say. “Please let me know if there’s anything I can help with.”

  “Oh, no,” Valarie says. “My job is to take care of the details. Yours is to enjoy yourself.”

  “I’ll see you tonight,” Saanvi says to me. Her smile’s so wide she’s glowing. God, I hope I’m that happy if I ever get married. “It’s nice to meet you, Carter.”

  “You too,” Carter says.

  “Oh, and I have a surprise for you.” She digs into her pocket and pulls out an envelope, tossing it to Carter. “That’s the key to the other honeymoon suite.”

  My eyes go wide. Why is she putting Carter in a suite?

  “I talked Mom into letting you two share a room.” Saanvi winks at me. “You can thank me later.”

  I can only blink as she walks away. This was not the plan.

  I spin in Carter’s arms, cringing. “I’m sorry. She means w
ell. It’s just—”

  He puts his thumb on my bottom lip and lowers his forehead to touch mine, and I stop talking. Even if he hadn’t put his thumb on my lip, I’m not sure I’d be capable of forming coherent sentences with the full intensity of Carter’s gaze on me.

  He lowers his mouth to my ear and whispers, “Your old boyfriend is watching, so if you want him to believe we’re together, maybe you should tone down the disappointment over sharing a room with me.”

  At least, I think that’s what he says. I only pick up every other word or so, because his lips brush my ear as he speaks and the sensation sends licks of pleasure up my spine, reminding me of his touch, his mouth, his magical fingers . . .

  I’m still frozen with lust when he pulls back. “What do you say we go check out our room and unpack our clothes?”

  I nod stupidly. Right. We should definitely go to our room and take off our clothes—or put them away.

  He chuckles, as if he can see right into my pathetic, lust-addled brain. “Come on, Teagan. I won’t bite. Not again. Not unless you want me to.” He presses his thumb to the faded mark on my neck. And after that bonus jolt to my libido, he takes my hand and leads me toward the stairs.

  Carter

  Having lived in Jackson Harbor my whole life, I’m familiar with the Hayhurst mansion bed and breakfast, but I’ve never had a reason to stay here. I knew it was a nice place, but I didn’t realize how big or opulent until today.

  Our suite is incredible. There’s a kitchenette, a large bathroom with a tile shower that has half a dozen showerheads, and a Jacuzzi tub by windows that overlook the lake. On the other side of the kitchenette is a sofa facing a massive four-poster bed.

  One bed.

  “Your sister must really like you,” I say.

  Teagan threads a hand through her dark hair as she surveys the room. “Go, Saanvi. Thanks for making sure I can sleep with my fake boyfriend.” She wanders toward the bed, where a little red box is wrapped with a black ribbon. She pulls the card off the top and reads, “‘For my big sister. Congratulations on finding an epic love. I’m so excited for you.’” She squeezes her eyes shut.

  “Are you going to open it?”

  “I should have told her. She could have kept the secret.”

  “You still can,” I suggest softly.

  “It feels dirty lying to my sister at her wedding, but if I tell her now, I’m going to create drama where there should be none. I want her to focus on having the best weekend of her life, not on me and Rich.”

  I understand her angst, but her sister is going to ask about the gift later, so I step forward and take the box. “May I?”

  “Knock yourself out.” She sinks onto the bed then lies back, her hair splayed out all around her. She’s a beautiful sight, and it would be easy to stare at the way her body sinks into the fluffy duvet, but I don’t let myself.

  I pull the lid off the box and drop it to the bed, pulling a lacy black fabric from inside. Grinning, I hold it up for her. There’s not a lot to it, and if Teagan put this on, I’d be able to see every curve, every private inch beneath the fine black threads. “I really like your sister.”

  She grabs a pillow and hurls it at my chest. “Shut up!”

  I sigh heavily. “You know you have to model it for me.”

  She springs upright. “No, I don’t!”

  “What if she asks about it? I don’t want to mess this up.” I press a hand to my chest. “I take my job here very seriously.”

  “You’re a pig,” she mutters, but her lips curl into a smile and some of her tension falls away.

  I take her hand and pull her up to stand in front of me. “Relax, Teagan. I’ll sleep on the couch. This is not a crisis.”

  “I’m not a good liar.”

  And yet you’ve spent years in Jackson Harbor without telling any of us what you’re so afraid of at home. In all that time, you didn’t breathe a word to me about losing the man you planned to marry or hiding from another guy who terrifies you.

  I’m not supposed to ask about Rich, but maybe there’s a way around that. “You know what we didn’t cover last night?”

  “What?”

  “Our romantic histories—you know, serious relationships. I know you don’t want me to ask about Rich, but what should I know that you feel okay talking about? And what about other guys?”

  She nods slowly. “Rich was high school—my sophomore to senior year, his senior year, and then his first two years of college.”

  I know the shock is clear on my face. “That’s a long time, considering how young you were.”

  She toys with a loose lock of hair at the base of her neck and twirls it around her fingers. “I guess so, but I didn’t think of it that way at the time.”

  “What happened between you? To end it, I mean.”

  “I got a track scholarship to go to school in Georgia, and he gave me an ultimatum. If I wanted him, I had to stay.”

  “That’s a little intense. You were only eighteen.”

  She rolls her eyes. “No shit. It was an easy choice for me, though it wasn’t a clean break. The summer before I left, we kept . . .” She shakes her head. “Anyway, it was good to get away, and once I started college and realized I suddenly had more freedom than I’d had in three years, I knew I’d never get back together with him or be with anyone that controlling.”

  I wonder if that’s the extent of her fear. He was controlling, and she doesn’t want that in her life again. But I know there’s more. If there weren’t, she wouldn’t have stipulated that I not ask about him. “Then in college?”

  She chews on her thumbnail. “Nothing significant. Lots of dating. A few boyfriends. Nobody who gave me butterflies or made me see a future together with them.”

  “And then Heath was after you moved back home? He gave you butterflies?” I’m not sure what to think about the jealousy that tears through me at those words. I’m jealous of a dead man for his relationship with my fake girlfriend. That might be a new low.

  “Yeah. Butterflies and . . . thrills.” She sighs, tugging on that same lock of hair. “My parents didn’t care for him, and given how much they approved of Rich, I think that made Heath all the more appealing.”

  There’s a knock on the door. “Bellman.”

  “Hold that thought,” I tell Teagan, going to the door.

  “Good afternoon, sir,” the man says. “I have your luggage.”

  “Thanks. You can leave it by the couch.”

  He nods and hauls our suitcases into the room, thanking me when I pass him a tip. Then he’s gone and we’re alone again, but judging by how diligently she’s avoiding my gaze, I wonder if she’s planning to change the subject.

  I pick up my suitcase, put it on the bed, and unzip it so I can hang up my clothes as she does the same with hers. “What was Heath like?”

  She stills, hand tightening around some vibrant red material. When she releases a puff of air, I realize she’s quietly laughing. “Like you, I guess.”

  “Because of his job?”

  Her lips twitch into a reluctant smile, but she still doesn’t meet my eyes. “More because of his . . . love of women?”

  I cough. I was not expecting that. “What?”

  “It’s not a secret that you like to keep your bed warm, Carter. Or that you’ve come to prefer . . . variety to commitment.”

  “Jesus.” I remove a stack of clothes and put them into a dresser drawer. I guess it’s not just Jake. I’ve somehow managed to get a reputation as a player. “Is that what you think of me?”

  “I’m not judging. A lot of guys are like that.”

  But I want to be better than a lot of guys. I release a breath and drag a hand through my hair. This isn’t about me. Not right now. “How’d you end up with a guy like that? Heath, I mean.”

  “He was charming, and I wasn’t looking for forever.” She slides a dress onto a hanger. “I moved home right after graduation and met him my first weekend back.”

  “How’d y
ou meet?”

  She stills again, and she’s quiet so long that I’m about to repeat my question when she says, “Rich introduced us.”

  “Oh.”

  “Sounds crazy, doesn’t it? But then, I believed Rich had moved on as completely as I had. No hard feelings, no weirdness. And he was best friends with Heath—they’d gone to the police academy together and worked out of the same precinct. I actually think Rich meant to set us up, as crazy as that sounds. If I knew then what I know now, I’d have run far away from anyone Rich wanted me to meet.”

  And what do you know now? I don’t want to push her, so I continue unpacking and wait for more.

  “Heath had a revolving door of women in his life when I met him, but we hit it off. I liked him. But after a couple of weeks, I knew I couldn’t be one of many, and I told him if we were going to keep seeing each other, he had to stop seeing everyone else. Rich encouraged me to have that talk with him. He said Heath was the kind of guy who’d need it spelled out, but I’m not sure he was giving Heath enough credit. He was young and single, not an ass. It didn’t take much convincing. And after that . . . we fell in love fast and hard. He was romantic and sweet, and so damn good in bed.”

  I grunt. I don’t want to think about another man physically pleasing her.

  “Not that bedroom skills are required for a relationship, of course,” she says quickly.

  “Of course.”

  “My family accepted him, but Rich was always around, and he always found ways to look better than Heath. At first, I didn’t think he was doing it on purpose. Rich knew my family from the years we’d been together in high school, and he stayed close to them after I left. He’d know Mom needed help getting the salt to the basement for the water softener, and of course he’d remember how much she loved to get lilies at Easter.” She releases a small huff of air. “I guess I can’t really talk about Heath without talking about Rich, and that was always the problem. The harder I fell for Heath, the more my family wanted to see me get back together with Rich.”

  “Why?”

  She hangs another dress, taking her time before responding. “Rich has a way of twisting things—making people look bad for nothing without straight-out lying. I know this sounds crazy, but I need you to promise me now that you won’t let Rich get to you. He might try to be your buddy or he might just be an ass, but whatever he does, he’ll be trying to manipulate you.”