Raw Deal

by Cherrie Lynn

  “I’m sorry you didn’t get much sleep. But there’s coffee, if you want it.”

  Feeling suddenly shy here in the light of day, she dropped her gaze to his wonderful mouth and said, “Can I have you instead?” Now that you’ve ruined me for all others?

  His eyes closed as if he were in pain, but when he opened them again she knew there would be no arguing with him. “I’d better get you back, don’t you think?”

  Yes. He was right. Didn’t mean she had to like it, but at least she could be mature about it.

  A quick shower to wash off the night’s remnants and she was left to put on her discarded, wrinkled sundress . . . with no panties, because Mike had destroyed them at her urging. She hoped to God a strong burst of wind didn’t send the dress fluttering up around her head, showing her goods to everyone outside the hotel.

  The hotel. She didn’t want to think about it. Once she got back there, she would have Rowan to face, and entertain all day, and lie to. How could she look into those unassuming green eyes and pretend last night hadn’t happened? Rowan would ordinarily be the first person she’d share her secrets with, if she shared them with anyone at all. Not this time. Oh, God, no, not this time.

  The knowledge dampened her spirits. One night, she thought. Rowan told herself one night. You told yourself one night too.

  Now she wanted so many more. She and Mike didn’t have a one-night connection; it would take a lifetime to explore.

  “I’m panty-less,” she announced when she found him in the kitchen after drying her hair.

  Mike turned from the counter with a wicked grin, handing her a freshly poured cup of coffee. “Trying to tempt me?”

  She took the cup and sipped at it, letting her gaze meet his over the rim. “I don’t know. Is it working?”

  “Could be.”

  “I would walk out on your deck but I’m afraid of flashing any joggers that might be out there.”

  He chuckled. “I’ll find you a hoodie. It’ll swallow you, but it should at least keep that pretty ass covered.” Reaching behind her, he gave said ass a squeeze and she damn near melted into a puddle on the floor. Did they really not have time . . . ?

  Apparently not. He was already heading back toward the bedroom, telling her he would be right back. Carrying her coffee with her, she moved over to the patio door, watching seagulls frolic out on the beach for a few minutes. Other than the birds, it was empty. Under the steely gray sky, the gulf looked angry and sullen. Still beautiful. She would love to stand out there in a storm. “If I haven’t told you enough already, I love it here,” she called to Mike. “My offer still stands to take it off your hands.”

  A chuckle greeted her words. She glanced back at the sound, finding him reentering the kitchen carrying a bundled hoodie in one hand. “I’m afraid I’ve grown attached.”

  “I don’t blame you. I would never leave.”

  “Ordinarily I split my time pretty evenly. When I’m training I like to be close to the gym.”

  Another unwanted thought touched her, and her cup froze halfway to her mouth. Why now? Why had all these reservations jumped up to attack her this morning? “Do you have a fight coming up? You’d said something about retiring before.”

  He was a while answering. “Yeah, I know. I’m still thinking about it. I work with my coach several times a week but no, I don’t have anything scheduled. My manager wanted me to step back for a while, and I wanted to also.”

  Probably a smart move. “Have you told your people what you’re thinking?”

  “No.”

  He must not be considering it too hard, or he would ask for input from his team. She took a drink of coffee, debating with herself. “I don’t think I can ever be around it again,” she admitted after a moment. “After Tommy . . . No. I couldn’t.”

  “For a while I didn’t want to be around it either. I slowly got back in the gym, but it hasn’t been easy. I just . . . I need it.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s all I know.” He’d been averting his gaze; now it snapped back to her for a brief moment and he grabbed his truck keys off the counter. “Ready to go?”

  Bundled in his heather-gray sweatshirt that not only covered her ass but hung halfway to her knees, allowing only the merest flutter of her dress to show underneath the band, she climbed in his truck and buckled up, feeling at odds with herself. The excitement and magic of last night was in ashes now, replaced with the towering brick wall of reality—and she had just careened madly into it.

  There was nothing for them. The lifetime she’d romantically contemplated earlier was some alternate reality where Tommy was still alive. That reality wasn’t here, and it damn sure wasn’t now.

  The hour back to Houston turned out to be closer to two; early morning traffic was heavy heading into the city. It felt like forever. They largely spent it wrapped in a terrible, aching silence while Savannah watched the buildings and cars whiz maniacally by as Mike navigated the freeways with all the kamikaze skill and confidence of someone who’d been driving here his entire life. Whenever she glanced at him, his face was like stone, his hands gripping the wheel so hard one good yank would probably tear it from the dash.

  He felt it too, then.

  Maybe later it wouldn’t hurt so much. Later, after she spent time with Rowan, after she witnessed more of her sister-in-law’s bad days, after she experienced a few of her own. She still had them, those moments when she heard something funny and almost called Tommy to tell him about it. And then she would remember, and it was almost as if his death had just happened all over again.

  None of that was Mike’s fault. She believed that, or she couldn’t have let last night happen. But it would be much easier to deal with losing what might have been now that she knew what true loss felt like. Nothing else could come close to that. It would be all right. She could deal.

  “What are you doing today?” Mike asked at last, the first time either of them had really spoken since leaving Galveston.

  “Shopping, I guess. Rowan wanted to go to the Galleria.”

  He nodded and took an exit, getting ever closer to the hotel and goodbye. Her heart was in her throat all of a sudden. “What about you?”

  “Home. Maybe more sleep.”

  “Oh, definitely. That sounds nice. Maybe she’ll sleep until noon so I can catch a nap.” Though it would be even nicer with you for a pillow.

  “I can get you a car for later, if you want.”

  “Nah, we’ll Uber. Thank you, though.” And all too soon he pulled up outside her hotel. She sat staring at the entrance, knowing she should open the door and run, but unable to do so. Frozen to her seat, she drew a deep breath and turned her head to find him looking at her. “I don’t want to go in,” she said softly.

  In a burst of motion that startled her, he surged across the bench seat to catch her face between his hands, kissing her until her breath burned through her lungs and her already sore, well-fucked body weakened and pleaded with her to reconsider all of this. To say to hell with reality and live the fantasy just a little while longer, no matter what anyone thought. “Tonight,” he practically growled into her ear just before nipping the lobe with his teeth. “Let me see you again tonight, Savannah.”

  Tonight? What about now?

  “Okay,” she said stupidly as he sucked a patch on her neck until it stung like her lips did from the pressure of his kisses. His hand rode up her bare thigh to tease sweetly between her legs, at odds with the fire and force everywhere else he touched her. Her muscles jumped, tightening everywhere as she clutched at his head. Her nipples chafed against the ruched bodice of her dress underneath his sweatshirt. “Oh God.”

  “Open,” he commanded, and she did, heaven help her, right there at the front entrance where anyone might walk out, but at least they were up fairly high in his truck so they wouldn’t be able to see what he was doing.

  What he was doing was working his fingers inside her, finding her wet and ready for more of him. Sinking her teeth in
to her bottom lip, Savannah let her head roll back on the seat with his devastating come-hither motions robbing her of thought, blinding her, making her ears ring. Shutting the world out. He had that effect on her and something tried to whisper to her pleasure-drunk mind that it wasn’t a good thing. She was beyond hearing any voices of reason, moving her hips with him, seeking the release hovering just out of her reach . . . there, just there, almost . . .

  His thumb brushed her clit and she was gone. Writhing, clutching him, sinking her teeth into his muscular shoulder so she wouldn’t cry out. When he’d wrung every last spasm from her spent, shaking body, he gently pulled his hand away and her eyes flew open. It was as if a spell had been lifted, one that turned her into someone she scarcely knew. But damn, did it feel good. Every inch of her had skin broken out in gooseflesh as the heat rushed out of her, and she was glad for the warmth of his hoodie. And of his kiss when at last it wandered back to her lips, sweet and reassuring after that whirlwind orgasm.

  “I want to take you out,” he said, stroking her cheek. Lost in the sea of his stormy blue eyes right then, she feared she would never be able to deny him anything he wanted.

  “I’d like that.”

  “Can you can get away? I don’t want to keep you from Rowan, but . . .” Those fabulous lips teased a line along her jaw. “I do want to keep you.”

  Giggling softly, she stroked his hair, enjoying the feel of his mouth on her. Okay, so . . . one more night. Tomorrow she had to leave him. There was no denying that, no stopping it. Might as well go on enjoying herself while she was here, if she could. “I’m here for her, though, okay? If she wants to do something, then I have to go with her. I just doubt she will.”

  “Understood.”

  But Savannah was already wearing what she’d planned to wear today and would have to wear today what she’d planned to wear tomorrow. What the hell would she wear to dinner? She hadn’t expected any of this, but at least she had a day of shopping to figure it out.

  “You feel too good to let go,” he murmured, and she slid her arms around his neck, letting him hold on as long as he wanted because she was right there with him in not wanting to let go. Soaking in everything about him she could: the feel of his stubble against her tender flesh, the steady rhythm of his breathing, the strong throb of his heart. How was she going to get through the day?

  The day had begun, though, whether they liked it or not. She climbed cautiously down from Mike’s truck still wearing his hoodie, since he told her to keep it, and stood watching amid the morning bustle until his truck turned a corner and was gone from sight. He’d wanted to walk her to her hotel room door, but she’d thought it too risky in case Rowan was up seeking breakfast. Fat chance given last night, but it would be just her luck to get caught making this walk of shame. She wasn’t quite sure how she might explain returning to her room this morning wearing the same dress she’d worn last night under a sweatshirt that was three sizes too big, but it would be easier than explaining it when the accomplice was at her side.

  Ten minutes later, she was snuggled under the covers alone in her blissfully silent room, wearing the oversize T-shirt she’d packed to sleep in but still snuggled with Mike’s hoodie. It smelled like his beach house, like his truck, like him.

  Rowan yawned through a late breakfast, bleary eyed but adorable and dressed for a day of shopping. She had called at half past ten to wake Savannah from the deepest sleep she could remember in ages. By noon, the two of them were walking beneath the curved glass roof of the Houston Galleria. Rowan fell in love with a pair of Alexander McQueen sandals at Nordstrom that Savannah tried diligently to talk her out of.

  “You know your feet are going to swell and you aren’t going to be able to wear them,” she warned as Rowan admired them in the mirror and the saleslady gave Savannah the evil eye as she no doubt contemplated a lost commission.

  “They won’t swell forever, silly.”

  “Mom always said her foot was a full size bigger after she had Tommy.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Yep.”

  “Well . . . shit. Sorry,” she quickly added to the lady helping her, her hand going to her mouth. “I think I’ll take them anyway, though. I simply must have a souvenir from this trip.”

  The saleslady gave a sniff of triumph in Savannah’s direction, and with Rowan’s mind made up, Savannah fell silent. The girl had money to burn; she simply feared she was burning through it too fast. Not that Rowan necessarily had anything to worry about—the Dugas clan would collapse in shame if she ever had to work a day in her life, apparently. In a few years, Savannah’s own trust fund would kick in, and maybe then she could entertain the notion of spending hundreds of dollars on a pair of shoes she might not be able to wear in a few months. But right now she was financially comfortable and independent mainly because she was frugal.

  Frugal or not, though, she did need a hot dress for tonight. And Rowan had an eye like a hawk for hot dresses.

  “What are we looking for?” Rowan asked later in Neiman Marcus, coming up behind Savannah when she thought she’d lost her at the Kate Spade handbags for a few minutes.

  Startled and a little guilty, she replaced the bright pink sleeveless A-line she’d been examining and turned away. “Oh, nothing.”

  “What’s wrong? That would look great on you, you know. With your dark hair and mile-long legs? Please. You should try it on.”

  She did like it. Bright colors had never really been her thing, but it was sexy and flirty, and since she had no clue where Mike was planning to take her tonight, she didn’t want to go overboard. Rowan snatched it back off the rack and thrust it at her. “I insist. Put it on. I want to hate you just a little bit more.”

  “Shut up,” Savannah scoffed, taking it and holding it up to her body. Yes, it would definitely show a lot of leg. Mike would like that. Hell, she hadn’t brought any decent shoes to wear with it. Too bad I can’t borrow Rowan’s new sandals, she thought with a smirk. The two of them were within half a shoe size of each other and frequently traded when possible, but . . . yeah. That would be too much.

  “I think we should get facials too. Wouldn’t that be fun?”

  All at once, at one innocent suggestion, her mind overrode her sex organs and it occurred to her what a horrible person—sister, friend, family member—she was being. Rowan didn’t deserve this. But she was doing well; it was a good day. How could Savannah ruin it for her by telling her where she was going tonight?

  Would it ruin it? Maybe Rowan had garnered a modicum of goodwill toward Mike after he’d made this trip possible for her. Miracles happened, right?

  While she was wondering, Rowan propelled her toward the fitting rooms and Savannah mechanically undressed and slipped into the slinky pink number, surveying her reflection critically. As usual, the girl had been right—it showed the perfect amount of leg and heightened a glow she hadn’t realized she possessed. Of course, Michael might have put that glow there last night. With every movement, she could still feel him inside her, a fullness just on the pleasure side of pain.

  Oh, God. Leaning her forehead against the mirror, she sucked in a series of calming breaths and tried to get a grip on her racing thoughts.

  She’d never been a deceptive person. Never. Keeping secrets from the people closest to her simply wasn’t an option she’d ever had to consider, and in relationships it would’ve been a deal breaker. But then, she’d never had a secret like this, one that could hurt so many people. Rowan wouldn’t understand. She wouldn’t—

  A knock pounded on the door. “Are you all right in there? Does it not fit? You need a size down, right? Because I hate you.”

  She jumped away from the mirror as Rowan’s voice filtered through, her mouth speaking out on its own. “I’m having dinner tonight with Mike Larson.”

  Maybe it had been the ease of saying it without having to look Rowan in the face. Or maybe she’d lost her fucking mind. But the reason didn’t matter. Silence, complete and absolute and terr
ible, met the announcement.

  “Rowan?” Please, please, please . . .

  “You don’t have to, you know. Don’t think you have to do something to thank him for this weekend on my behalf.”

  What? “It isn’t like that at all. That isn’t what I’m doing. He’s taking me out, not the other way around.”

  “It’s only that . . . that’s a dress I could see lying in a puddle on the floor come morning.”

  God, she thought even less of him than Savannah had thought. “I promise, it isn’t about that.”

  “Okay. So you like him?”

  Savannah forced herself to stare her reflection in the face, in the eyes, as she said, “Yes. I like him a lot.”

  “I could already tell.” Rowan sighed. “I’m going to trust you know what you’re doing.”

  Did any of them know? Really? All they could do was make decisions based on the information they had at hand, and hope for the best. But the relief, oh, sweet Jesus, the relief at knowing Rowan didn’t hate her . . . at least, not yet. She closed her eyes, savoring it. “Thank you.”

  “Where is he taking you?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Well . . . Let me see the dress on you, at least.”

  With sore, burning eyes, Savannah unlatched the dressing room door and pulled it open to face Rowan’s critical analysis. “I love it,” she proclaimed at last, meeting Savannah’s eyes with a smile. A tremulous one, not an overly happy one, but a smile all the same.

  “Me too.”

  “In fact I love it a little too much. Are you sure we shouldn’t find you something that covers you from neck to ankle?”

  Savannah chuckled. “I don’t think that’ll be necessary.”

  For the rest of the day, Rowan seemed a little quieter, a little more introspective, but she insisted on helping Savannah pick out the right pair of shoes and the right shade of nail polish for her fingers and toes when they went for their mani-pedis. The only time Mike came up again was when they were on their way back to the hotel and Rowan leaned close, saying, “What about your parents?”