by Vivian Wood
Shivering, she looked away, effectively breaking the moment. “How long have you been doing this?” She gestured at the table, the figurines. “You’ve never mentioned it.”
She saw him shrug in her peripheral vision. “I learned how to do it in high school, but I’ve only taken it up again recently. I work part-time at Alan’s shop.”
“Of course you just took up woodworking again and are this good at it.” She shook her head. She knew next to nothing about how to shape wood into tables and chairs and hummingbirds, but she could recognize skill when she saw it. “This is amazing,” she said truthfully as she once again picked up the hummingbird.
“I like to do smaller works to get my mind off things. The horse is kind of messed up—its head is too big.”
She hadn’t noticed, but now that she looked at the horse, it did seem rather out of proportion. The hummingbird, however, was perfect—almost. She realized that one wing was slightly bigger than the other, but oddly enough, it made it even more precious to her.
It made the maker seem more human, and she marveled at how lifelike the figurine seemed regardless. He’d even carved the individual feathers on its body and wings.
“You can have that,” he said. At her surprised look, he laughed a little. “I think I carved it with you in mind, you know.”
She brushed a finger down the bird’s neck. Closing her eyes, she thought, Don’t break my heart, Seth. Because you could, so easily.
“You never answered my question: why are you here, Rose?”
She set the hummingbird down a second time. But when she turned toward Seth, she said, “I want to touch you like you touched me.”
Seth was sure he hadn’t heard her correctly. Gazing up at him from under her lashes, she had a slight flush to her cheeks and he could see that her nipples were peaked under her tank top. He swallowed, a lump in his throat.
He’d get whiplash from how many times Rose changed her mind, but right in that moment, with his cock so hard it ached, he didn’t care. He didn’t care if she kicked him out of his apartment afterward.
To touch her—to have her touch him—it would be worth it.
He took her hand and pressed it right over his pounding heart. “If you think I’m going to stop you,” he rasped, “you’re crazy.”
She shot him a quick grin, but it turned into a sigh of pleasure as she caressed his chest before tracing a line down to his belly button. His abdomen tensed.
With only his boxers covering his erection, she had to know how much he wanted her. Yet she didn’t seem in a hurry: something his mind appreciated but his body wanted to protest. He needed her hands on his cock—and God, her mouth. He shuddered at the mere thought of something so divine.
Rose was tentative, but not fearful. Yet he sensed that she was inexperienced, like when she brushed her thumb over one of his nipples and frowned when he didn’t erupt into loud moans like she had. He bit his lip to keep from laughing, although the furrow in her brow was so adorable he wanted to kiss it away.
“I love your body,” she said on a heartfelt sigh. “When you came to my door that first time without your shirt on…”
“Had a few dirty thoughts, hummingbird?”
“You could say that.” Her grin this time was impish. “If I told you that I touched myself the next night thinking of you, what would you say to that?”
He groaned and said a prayer to some deity to help him, save him. She was going to kill him.
“I’d say that you’re going to drive me absolutely insane.”
“Good. I like seeing you lose control.”
Seth gritted his teeth as her breasts brushed against his chest, and he gritted them even harder when she kissed him between his collarbone. Her hot little tongue laved his skin. He gripped her waist, more so to hold himself steady than to keep her upright.
“How about we move this to the bedroom?” he suggested.
“No, I like it here.” Right then, she kneeled in front of him, and he almost came out of his skin. “Don’t move, Thornton.”
As if he would move. He’d stand right here until the end of the time if she asked him to.
Rose hesitated—it was only a split second, but it made alarm bells go off in his brain. She’d essentially kicked him out of her place after their last encounter, and now he wondered if she was pushing herself too hard, too fast.
“Rose, you don’t have to do anything tonight. It’s fine.”
That only made her eyes flash. He should’ve known saying something like that would dare her not to give up on what she’d intended to do. Well, he might very well get burned, but was it worth it?
When Rose slowly pulled his boxers down to reveal his cock, he knew the answer: absolutely fucking worth it.
He’d never been this hard for a woman. He clenched his fists to keep himself from touching her. Because if he touched her, he’d carry her straight to his bedroom and be inside her in five seconds flat.
“You’re huge,” she said with wide eyes, and her expression almost made him laugh again. And, yes, it also made his head swell—he was a guy, he couldn’t help it.
She looked up at him again, licking her lips. “Tell me what you like. What I should do.”
He tanged his fingers in her hair, but he didn’t press her. He knew that although he was receiving pleasure, this was almost more about her than it was about him.
“Take my cock in your hand—at the base—and stroke me. Harder. You won’t break me, don’t worry.”
Rose didn’t break eye contact as she moved her hand up, then down, then up again, in a rhythm that was slow but steady.
“Twist your hand, too,” he said, and when she complied, he groaned. “Yeah, like that. Fuck, Rose, you’re driving me crazy.”
She stroked him until he wanted to beg her to put him into her mouth, but as if sensing his thoughts, she swirled her tongue around the head of his cock. It was such a light touch that it only made things worse.
God Almighty, he was going to come from just a quick hand job and nothing else. He’d never done that before, but he’d never been this aroused before, either.
Rose took him into her mouth, taking more of him, as she twisted her hand around his cock as she stroked him. The combination of her tongue and her hand and the look in her eyes—the gleam in them that told him she knew she was driving him crazy—plus the feeling of her silky hair in his hand made it all too much.
With a groan, he lifted her face away right as he started to come. His seed shot out in endless bursts, and he swore the entire time. His knees almost buckled.
“Goddamn, Rose,” he said as he pulled her up. “Goddamn.” He kissed her, thrusting his tongue into her mouth like he wanted to thrust his cock inside her.
She moaned and rubbed against him like a cat in heat. He deepened the kiss until everything else faded but the feel of her soft weight pressing against him.
When he tugged on her hair—a light tug that he barely realized he’d done—she froze. He didn’t realize it for a long moment because she kept kissing him, yet the kiss began to fade away as she began to come back to herself.
“No, stop,” she whispered. “Stop.”
Her voice came to him slowly. It was like hearing someone call out in a tunnel when your eardrums had just been blown out by an explosion. It was rather like when he’d tried to listen for Max’s voice after the IED explosion.
“Stop.” She pushed him.
He let her go, and she stumbled away from him, breathing hard.
“Rose? What is it?”
He was reminded of a wild animal caught in snare right then: with her eyes wide, her breathing fast, her body trembling. He approached her with cautious steps, his hands up.
“Rose,” he said more firmly, “what is it? Are you okay?”
“No, no. I need to go. I need to—what have I done?” She choked back a sob; she slapped a hand to her mouth. “Oh my God, oh my God—”
He tried to get her to stay still, but the second he put his hand
s on her, she turned wild. She pushed and writhed, her voice shaking, and he’d never been so confused and afraid and hurt as he was right then.
“Talk to me. Baby, talk to me. You’re safe. It’s me—it’s Seth.”
“Nooooo,” she moaned. She clutched her head and collapsed to the floor. She wrapped her arms around her knees.
He didn’t touch her again. He waited, letting her panic slow down. After what seemed like an eternity, she seemed to return to herself, although she wouldn’t look at him.
“I need to go.” She walked like a zombie to the front door without even looking at him. It was like he didn’t even exist anymore.
His gut twisted. He reached out to touch her, but she wrenched her arm away. At his hurt look, tears filled her eyes.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry—just, I need to go. Please. Don’t come after me.”
She darted away from him and out the door, and when he heard her front door open and then close, he rubbed a hand over his face.
What the hell have I gotten myself into?
Chapter Twelve
Rose saw Seth and his brothers sit down at a table in the back at The Fainting Goat, and she almost ran into Rebecca when she whirled around.
“Whoa, watch out! I almost dropped my tray.” Rebecca glared as she pushed past her.
Rose took a deep breath and forced her heart to slow. She owed Seth an explanation—and an apology. Again. This seemed to be her lot in life: want Seth, offend Seth, avoid Seth. Rinse, repeat ad infinitum.
“DiMarco, you okay?” Ash Younger asked as he walked past her to Trent’s office. “You look like you saw a ghost.”
She gave him a wan smile. “I’m fine. Sorry, I’ll get back to work.”
She didn’t give a chance for Ash to ask more questions before she hurried into the kitchen, only to realize that there weren’t any orders to pick up. She loitered until the chef told her either to start cooking or go be productive.
She checked on her tables, refilled water glasses, and made absolutely certain to avoid any glares directed her way via Seth Thornton. Considering she refused to look at him, she didn’t know if he was glaring. Maybe he was smiling. Maybe he wasn’t even looking her way at all.
Oh God, what if he’d decided she wasn’t worth the trouble? She couldn’t blame him: she kept giving him so many mixed signals she was confused.
As she rose from pouring a glass of water, her gaze collided with Seth’s. It was inevitable, like they were two magnets attracted to each other no matter how far away the other was.
And Seth wasn’t smiling.
He wasn’t glaring, either: he seemed speculative. Wary. He raised his glass to her, like an ironic salute.
She gritted her teeth and hurried into the back.
Her dreams had worsened since she’d been with Seth. Not because of what they’d done—which had been beautiful and wonderful and beyond her wildest imaginings—but because the universe seemed bent on not allowing her any respite from Johnny or what he’d done to her. She dreamed of times when she’d considered suicide to escape; she dreamed of when Johnny had toyed with her, acted like he cared about her.
She dreamed of the times when Johnny would pull her hair, and she’d wake up, crying until she fell into an exhausted sleep.
She dreamed that Johnny would have her in the end, no matter what she did.
A cold sweat broke out on her forehead. Shivering, despite the warmth of the restaurant, she went to the ladies’ room to put herself back together.
Gazing into the mirror, Rose saw a woman who looked wan and thin, with purple crescents under her eyes. When was the last time she’d felt content? Or safe? She didn’t know. Except when she was with Seth, she realized with a pang in her heart, she was barely holding it together.
She brushed strands of hair from her forehead, and after redoing her lipstick, she exited the ladies’ room. Only to run into Seth, who stood in front of her like some muscular Great Wall of China.
“It’s you,” she said, rather inanely. She felt her cheeks grow hot.
“It’s me. I didn’t think I’d catch you tonight, you know, what with you refusing to even look at me.”
She ducked under his arm. “I need to go back to work.”
“You have a minute to talk.”
She did, but he didn’t need to know that. When she saw the pain in his eyes, though, she paused, her heart twisting. She hated that she’d hurt him. If she could take it back, if she could right the wrong she’d done—
“Why do you keep running, Rose?” His voice was quiet, yet indomitable. He crossed his arms over his wide chest and waited.
The words threatened to spill over like a flood after a rainstorm. Memories collided inside her mind, and suddenly, she felt very, very tired. What if she could lay her burdens on someone else for once? Someone strong like Seth?
He has his own burdens. Don’t be selfish, Rose.
“Look, I’ll explain everything to you, but not tonight.” At his implacable look, she put her palms up, entreating him. “I promise.”
“Why do I feel like your promises are worth less than nothing lately?”
She winced. It hurt, but she deserved that. “You’re right. But I can’t talk about this here.”
Sighing, he pushed his fingers through his hair. “Fine. Tomorrow night? Or are you working?”
“I get off by eight o’clock.”
“Good. I’ll be home.”
They stared at each other, and Rose felt the gulf between them widening. Swallowing, tears imminent, she walked away from him for what felt like the thousandth time.
Throughout the rest of the evening, he didn’t try to get her attention. She noticed that he kept his back to her for the most part, although she heard him laugh and joke with his brothers. His brothers, for their part, shot him concerned glances every so often. Rose caught Caleb shaking his head at Harrison, and Harrison frowning into his beer.
When Harrison saw her looking, she whirled away and flew back into the kitchen. She didn’t even care if she got reprimanded again for loitering. Better that than having the wrath of three Thornton brothers coming down on her head.
But as fate would have it, Rose couldn’t avoid everyone related to Seth that night. Trent popped into the kitchen to steal some fries before the chef shooed him away. Trent grinned like a kid in a candy store.
“Hey, did you see Ash?” he asked Rose offhandedly. “I need to talk to him.”
“I saw him earlier. He’s probably in your office.”
“Great. Thanks, Rose.”
She followed him out, but then she found herself on the edges of a family reunion of sorts. Lizzie had Bea, and when Trent saw them, he kissed first his wife, then his daughter on their cheeks.
“I thought you two were heading home?” Trent asked. “I’ll be done soon if you want to wait for me.”
“Sure. We just stopped by to say hi to everyone.” She finally saw Rose standing there. “Oh, hey, Rose! How are you? Too bad you couldn’t come out for Caleb’s birthday. Heath said you were working.”
Trent frowned. He opened his mouth, but then shut it just in time. Rose blushed to the roots of her hair: she’d completely lied about not being able to join the party. She just hadn’t had the guts to face all the Thorntons and their significant others in one go.
She gave Lizzie a small wave. “Hi, nice to see you. I should get back to work—”
Seth walked up toward the group, at first not noticing Rose at all. She almost slipped away, but right then, he turned his head. And their gazes met.
Seth nodded at her; Rose froze, torn between running and trying to act like nothing was wrong.
But as luck would have it, Bea would save the day. The baby started to fuss, and when she began to reach out for Seth, Lizzie laughed while Trent shook his head.
“Does somebody want her uncle Seth? Here you go, sweetheart. She missed you.”
Seth took his niece without hesitation, and Bea quieted almost instantl
y. She laid her head on his shoulder, her fist in her mouth as she looked on with those wide baby blue eyes.
Rose’s heart melted. It completely melted into a puddle of goo, seeing a big soldier like Seth holding his tiny niece like that. He held her so gently, smiling down at her as he listened to Lizzie and Trent talk, and Rose wished she could give him a reason to smile like that.
If she let herself, she could imagine—oh, all kinds of things. Being with Seth. Loving him. God, even marrying him. And what if, one day, she could place their baby in his arms?
She wanted to cry. When she opened her eyes, she saw Seth watching her, and it was like he knew.
“I should get back to work. It was nice seeing all of you,” Rose said. As she returned to the kitchen, she could feel Seth’s gaze on her shoulders the entire time.
When Seth returned to the table that held his brothers, he felt their collective gazes on him. He drank his beer in silence. They’d acted like they’d wanted to say something all evening, but he wasn’t about to help them along.
Lizzie and Trent had left to put Bea to bed, Lizzie whispering that Seth needed to “get his head out of his ass” before patting him on the back. Helpful, he thought. As if he were the one giving off a million mixed signals.
As the youngest boy in the family, Seth had been known for pranks—along with Lizzie, his partner in crime—and getting whatever he wanted. Until Jubilee had come along.
Now, Seth felt stupidly young, with his older brothers at turns frowning and then shaking their heads at him. It reminded him of the time he and Lizzie had put a box of toads in their seventh-grade teacher’s desk, and they’d been sent home with suspensions in hand. His parents had not been remotely thrilled when they’d gotten that phone call.
Finally, Caleb broke the silence. He was the chattiest of the three, and Seth cursed Caleb for that particular skill right at that moment.
“So, Seth,” Caleb drawled as he flicked a bit of a straw wrapper across the table. “What’s up with you?”
Both Mark and Harrison rolled their eyes. Mark took a long drink of his beer while Harrison said, “What he means is: what’s going on with you and Rose?”