A Time to Fall (Love by the Seasons Book 1)

by Jess Vonn

  Her included.

  Making her way to the back of the room, she noticed one seat open and she felt herself relax when she saw who it was next to.

  “We meet again,” Chief Carter Conrad said with that dazzling smile he had. With his bright white teeth, strong jaw and dark hair, Carter had a serious Superman vibe about him. That sexy uniform stretching over his wide shoulders didn’t hurt the situation at all. He had to be close to six-and-a-half feet of bulky muscle.

  “May I?” Winnie asked sweetly, gesturing to the open chair next to him. He was up in half a second and pulled out her chair for her. Gentlemanly, too, she mused.

  “Sorry you’re stuck sitting with me again.” Winnie laughed, setting her purse beneath her chair and grabbing a drink of water. The men in this room were leaving her parched.

  “I’m grateful for the company. People tend to avoid me at these sorts of things. I think they’re afraid that they’ll accidentally incriminate themselves during small talk over lunch and I’ll have to take them out in cuffs.”

  Winnie snorted.

  “Oh, not on Betty Jean’s watch, I’m sure.”

  Now it was his turn to laugh.

  “Yeah, the woman does think she’s the law around here.”

  “Well, I don’t think I’ve broken any laws lately, so I feel pretty safe at your table.”

  “Is that right?” he asked, unconvinced. “My friend over there sure seems to think you’re doing something suspicious.”

  Winnie followed Chief Conrad’s gaze, shocked to find Cal’s eyes on her and the chief, flashing with something like annoyance.

  Hot damn, could she have made the man jealous? The possibility made her feel giddy and a tiny bit mad with power.

  “Now lean into me and laugh extra loudly,” Chief Conrad said, his head lowering closer to Winnie’s neck so that she could smell his sexy aftershave.

  She did laugh naturally at his wicked suggestion, but she might have amplified it just a bit for the sake of their one-man audience.

  “Oh, he’s pissed at me, alright,” Chief Conrad said with a laugh. “This is the most fun I’ve had all week.”

  Winnie laughed and avoided the urge to look back at Cal once more.

  “So you two go way back?” she asked, her eyes meeting the chief’s once more. They were so blue a woman could get lost in them. That she felt only friendly affection for the man spoke to the power of the spell Cal had cast over her.

  “Only to kindergarten.”

  “Then you probably have some embarrassing stories to tell about the Chamber of Commerce director then. The kind of stories a woman could tuck away until she needed them most.”

  His eyes twinkled.

  “Winnie, I could fill a book with them,” he promised with a grin, and she knew in that moment that she had a forever friend in Carter. Unfortunately, before he could share even one incriminating story about Cal, Betty Jean cleared her throat loudly at the microphone in the front of the room and began her introduction to the luncheon speaker.

  “I’ll take a rain check on those stories,” she whispered to Carter, who nodded conspiratorially.

  “It’s a deal.”

  Maybe these weekly luncheons wouldn’t be such a drag after all, Winnie mused to herself. She looked upon Chief Carter’s handsome profile, and she had to laugh. If the only relief she could find from Cal Spencer’s sexiness was a flirty friendship with his handsome best friend, well, she’d just have to find a way to deal with it.

  Much to her delight, Bloomsburo was growing on her.

  ~-~-~-~-~-~-

  Sitting in his office a few hours after the Guiding Star luncheon, where Cal had watched his oldest friend flirt with Winnie Briggs like it was part of his job description, he reflected on just how much he’d wanted to interrupt them. To intercede. To at least text her to put himself back at the forefront of her mind.

  Or maybe it was his asshole friend he needed to text, putting an end to Carter’s fun. His friend was loyal to a fault, but he’d still enjoy smacking him upside the head all the same.

  This train of thought felt wrong. Cal wasn’t the possessive type. Hell, he’d never had to be. Most of his energy was spent avoiding the possessive types. The clingy women who called too much. Texted too often. Didn’t understand the “one” part of a one-night stand. He sure as hell didn’t have any claim over Winnie Briggs.

  Yet here he was, fingers practically twitching where he sat in his office, just needing to reach out and contact her. To reassure himself that her desire for him was still as strong as it had been the night before.

  The night before. He closed his eyes and suddenly he was right back in that restaurant parking lot. Hands full of Winnie’s hair. Her soft, full breasts pressed up against his chest as her arms wound into his suit jacket and pulled him closer.

  The warmth of her mouth, so soft and inviting.

  And those two words that had hitched in his chest. I’m terrified, she’d said, so honestly, as her face had buried into his shirt -- all the better to send the words directly into his heart.

  As incredible as her body had felt, as hungry as her mouth had made him, those words had the greatest impact on his body last night. Although this experiment they agreed to was about pleasure, pure and simple, he had to remember that Winnie was far outside her comfort zone, and he had a duty to take care with the woman.

  Even if she did flirt with his best damn friend right in front of him.

  To hell with it. He wanted to connect with her, so that’s what he was going to do. Pulling out his cell phone, he typed a quick message, cutting straight to the point.

  I’m thinking about you.

  He saw three dots appear immediately in response. But then they disappeared. They showed up again, then disappeared. Damn how he wished he knew what she kept deleting.

  Sorry I didn’t say hi over lunch. Wasn’t ready to face you in public yet.

  He grinned.

  Parking lot regrets?

  More like parking lot memories. Not sure how to not pounce you when you’re within reach. Working on it.

  He had to laugh, as she put words to his exact struggle over lunch. His entire body had risen to attention the minute she’d entered the banquet hall.

  Please don’t work on it too hard. I’m a fan of this problem of yours.

  :D

  She typed another response.

  Not knowing what’s next is killing me.

  So let’s plan what’s next.

  ??

  Hell, why put off what they both wanted?

  My place? Tonight?

  The dots appeared and disappeared a few more times. He liked rendering the chatty woman speechless.

  Evening meeting to cover tonight. Tomorrow night?

  He glanced at his calendar. Damn it. A guy’s night out – poker with some college buddies.

  No good. Saturday night?

  She responded with a thumbs up emoji.

  Good. Well bad, but good.

  Bad??? she responded.

  Two more days of not touching you = bad.

  He sent her a time and his address and took some solace in the fact that at least if he had to suffer through two more days before he could get his hands back on what he wanted, so did she.

  Chapter 13

  Cal flicked idly through the channels on his flat screen television Saturday night, but in truth he was merely passing the time before Winnie arrived on his doorstep.

  He had teased the woman about the pleasureless rut she was in, but the truth was he might as well have been talking about himself.

  No one could deny Cal’s dutifulness. He was a responsible employee, a good citizen of Bloomsburo, and an attentive and present son, brother and uncle. He kept his house clean, his yard tidy, he paid his bills and taxes on time, and maintained a fit, healthy body with his running and lifting regime.

  For all his love of order and control, Cal had begun to realize that he’d created a life for himself that left little-to-no r
oom for surprise or spontaneity. Sure, he spent plenty of nights shooting pool with friends at the bar.

  And yes, he sometimes took pleasure in fairly anonymous hook-ups, but he couldn’t remember the last time he had so directly invited pleasure into his own life as he did when he made his proposal to Winnie.

  And she’d said yes. That was the most amazing part. He took a risk and she more than willingly complied.

  He knew he couldn’t commit to a relationship. He couldn’t date her, get her hopes up for anything long term, no matter how much a woman like Winnie had to offer. But he’d managed to arrange for a situation that was the best of both worlds—the sweet, physical exploration of a gorgeous woman without any concern about what he couldn’t, wouldn’t offer her in the long term.

  He hadn’t been able to stop thinking of the woman’s hands on him. The way she grasped at his throat, his hair. The feel of her curvaceous ass, finally in his hands where it belonged.

  Shit, he was getting hard already and as much as he relished the thought of continuing getting to know Winnie’s body, he didn’t want to shock the woman the moment she stepped foot in his house. He had to get himself under control, at least for a little while longer.

  They’d agreed to take it slow, even if certain parts of him might prefer a different pace. Despite his best efforts to calm his hunger, though, when the soft knock finally rapped on his door, his heart and his dick both perked to attention.

  Opening the door, he smiled upon seeing Winnie’s face before him. Eager. Nervous. Bursting with the same pent-up sexual energy that flowed through his veins.

  He widened the door for her to step through, but before he could say a word, she broke the ice.

  “I’ve identified a flaw in your plan,” she said, her gaze flickering to his lips, then his pecks, then back to his face. God, he loved it when she sized him up like that. Women tended to be so timid with him, so intimidated by his looks. There was something damn refreshing about a woman who knew that she had full access to any and every part of him she wanted. That was the kind of thing a man could get used to.

  “What’s the flaw?” he asked, his body inching closer to hers. It was involuntary, this pull he felt toward her.

  “The not-kissing,” she said, as she took a step closer to him, nuzzling closer toward his neck.

  “Huh?” he managed, his brain not fully functioning now that Winnie’s heat was within his reach.

  “You promised me pleasure, but the not-kissing that we do most of the hours of most of the days?” Winnie said, stretching up on her tippy toes to kiss the hot length of his neck, “That feels much more like pain than pleasure.”

  “Mmm,” he confirmed, content to let this gorgeous woman feast on his neck. His chin. His lips. Any piece of him she desired. She wasn’t wrong. The need he’d felt for her the past few days had been all-consuming and bordered on discomfort.

  “Anticipating pleasure is nice though, right?” he finally managed between kisses. “It’s like the up, up, up of that first hill on a roller coaster. Anticipation heightens the thrill of the pleasure when it finally arrives.”

  Her mouth met his fully, planting a warm kiss with her soft lips.

  God, those lips. Full and plush. He knew they’d feel amazing anywhere, but one body part in particular craved their caress to the point of pain.

  She opened wider for him, filling his mouth with her taste, her warmth that hardened him like steel. His hands involuntary landed on her hips, pulling her tightly against the growing need that tormented his body.

  “Mmm,” she hummed, her lips vibrating to his. “I guess that’s true. Maybe, in a torturous kind of way.”

  He grinned. She pushed herself off him and her genuine smile shone so sweetly from her face that it made his heart squeeze.

  Those sorts of observations—about how nice she was? How sweet? About what a good person she was? Those he had to push aside. This had to be a physical thing.

  “So is this officially a booty call? I’ve never had one of those,” she asked, her hands trailing down to the bottom of his T-shirt, slipping underneath and gripping the sides of his bare waist.

  Jesus, he could take the woman right there on his doorstep. He could have her clothes off in seconds, bend her over the bench near the door and take her so hard she couldn’t form a sentence. He shook the thought from his mind.

  “No, it’s not a booty call,” he said, and it was true. He had a different plan for the evening, despite the pleas from his groin. “Though your booty will be involved.”

  “I wasn’t sure what to wear for such an event.” Winnie smiled, gesturing toward her ensemble—a tight pair of tie dye leggings showed off the ample curves of her hips and ass, and a flowy, black sleeveless tunic hung from the tempting shelf of her full breasts.

  She was damn delectable.

  “Well, I think a trench coat and heels with nothing else underneath would be have been ideal, but this will have to do,” he said with a wink, which earned him a laugh.

  “I’ll make a note for next time.”

  Next time. Now there was a hell of a thought -- that this woman, arriving at his doorstep so hungry for him, could be a regular occurrence.

  “You’re perfect, as is,” he said, and he meant it, even if her rolling eyes suggested she didn’t believe him.

  “It smells amazing in here, by the way,” she offered.

  The observation shook Cal momentarily from his lust.

  “Oh, that was my dinner. Sausage Choucroute.”

  “I don’t know what that even means, but it sounds French and sexy as hell.”

  “I thought about inviting you over to join me, but that would feel too much like a date.”

  “Understandable. I appreciate your adherence to the ground rules. Anyway, I had some SpaghettiOs while I edited a few stories.”

  He frowned.

  “Don’t look at me like that,” she scolded. “I’ve kept myself alive this long.”

  “I’m not sure that ‘kept alive’ should be the minimum you’re striving for in life.”

  She refused the bait and changed the subject.

  “So if not for dinner, and not technically for a booty call, what am I here for?”

  “Dessert.”

  “Oh, I like the sound of that,” she said, reaching her hands around his waist and grabbing the contours of his ass.

  Cal couldn’t help but laugh at the feisty little manhandler. He grasped her wrists with his hands, pulling them up over her head and pinning her against the back of his front door.

  She writhed a bit, resenting her sudden inability to feel him up.

  “Not that kind of dessert, Briggs,” he said, both hating and loving his role as the disciplinarian. He relished the woman’s enthusiasm for his body. He craved it. But he also knew they had to pace themselves, at least at first. “We’re talking about a different kind of pleasure. Dessert, with a lesson.”

  Contented that she wouldn’t maul him, he released his hold on her and held her hand, pulling her into the kitchen. It surprised him how intimate it felt to have her small hand tucked in his as he guided her through his home. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d held a woman’s hand. Those were the smaller, more intimate connections you went without when you opted for casual hook ups over monogamous dating.

  Perhaps more significantly, he knew he’d never had a woman over to his house to cook with him.

  They turned into the kitchen. The space wasn’t overly large, but it was modern, with steel appliances, marble countertops, and top-of-the-line cookware hanging from a mount in the ceiling above a kitchen island with stools on one side. The counters were filled with late-fall produce in every color of the rainbow—eggplants and onions and squash and a half-dozen different types of apples. He watched as Winnie ran her fingers over their shiny curves. The woman could even make that look seductive.

  “You could host a cooking show in here,” she marveled. “It’s picture perfect.”

  “It
’s functional. That’s what matters.”

  “And freakishly clean. Like all the rest of your house seems to be.”

  He shrugged.

  “Which only confirms the fact that we can never date.”

  He didn’t know why the comment made him internally wince.

  “Oh, I’m sure I could straighten you up in no time,” he said, involuntarily leaning in to nuzzle Winnie’s neck. Her ear. Those warm, intimate spots that he wanted to know so much better.

  “No, I don’t think you could,” she said, leaning back. “And the very first time you came home to find my toothpaste in with the silverware or my underwear in with the DVDs, I think you’d head for the hills.”

  “I don’t know,” he said, grabbing at the woman’s full bottom, which was quickly growing to be his very favorite part of her body. “I kind of like the idea of finding your panties stashed around my house.”

  She laughed beneath his touch.

  “I have to admit I’ve put some thought into imagining what kind of panties you wear. Lace? Polka dot? Hello Kitty?”

  Her cheeks flushed a deep crimson as she laughed.

  “All of the above. That part of my wardrobe is as eclectic as the rest.”

  He could only imagine. And literally, he was doing just that before her next comment refocused his attention.

  “I’ll have you know that I’ve put some thought into what’s in your pants as well.”

  He felt his cock twitch, reminding him just how hard he had to focus to keep his body in control around this woman. And when she let comments like that slip from her full lips, it was damn near impossible.

  “I think you’re going to have to do some research to find out that answer.”

  She surprised him by reaching around him and squeezing the sides of his ass, first just to get a feel for the shape of him, but then more gently, feeling for the outline of his underwear.