Tell Me You Love Me

by Julie Prestsater

  He breathes deeply, his broad chest rising up and down. He just about kills me when he licks his full lips, the image so sensual it sends sparks firing all over my body. Slowly, but surely, his tongue sweeps across his bottom lip before his teeth drag along the same trail. My panties want to fly off with that one sinful gesture.

  The need for him to kiss me is intense. I want his moist mouth on mine. I want his teeth to nip at my lips. The thought makes heat pool between my thighs and it takes everything I have to keep from throwing my arms around his neck and pulling him toward me so my lips crash into his.

  My gaze flickers back and forth between his eyes and his mouth. His do the same as his face begins to near mine. Second by second, the space between us gets smaller.

  I can feel the minty cool freshness of his breath tickle my skin before he says, “I need to kiss you, Lizzy.”

  The meaning of his words overflows my heart with warmth. Has a man ever said they need to kiss me before? It’s not a want, but a need. Ryan would probably have no idea how much that one simple statement would mean to me. How cherished it would make me feel. Six simple words.

  My response is instant. My mind is dizzy with want. “Do it.”

  Without a second thought, his mouth claims mine. His lips pressing gently against my own for a brief moment before my hands find their way to his sides and pull him closer to me. At the same time, Ryan’s left hand moves from my arm to my shoulder and along my neck to my cheek. His sweet touch makes me want to crawl inside him and cuddle up there forever.

  Soft pecks sprinkle every inch of my mouth until Ryan peels his lips away. He rests his forehead against mine and when my eyes finally flutter open, his are still closed. I study him as his thumb traces the curve of my bottom lip. As if I didn’t want this man enough before, the desire just intensified to the nth degree. The feeling is so much more than lust. It feels a lot like...love. Real love.

  “Wow,” he says, when his eyes open. “I wasn’t expecting that when I woke up this morning.”

  “Neither did I, but I can’t say I haven’t thought about it.” Honesty seems like the best way to go. I have wasted enough of my life lying—no need to continue.

  Ryan steps away from me, taking my hand in his. “Let’s walk?”

  I nod, following his lead up the path to the picnic area. We sit at the bench, the same place we did the last time we came here together without speaking another word.

  He never lets go of my hand, and instead covers it with both of his. I watch as he traces lazy circles on the back of my hand with his thumb. I can almost see the wheels turning in his head because mine are doing the same thing. What to do, what to say. We haven’t seen each other in months. And he just kissed me. He did. He really did. It wasn’t a dream, although it felt a lot like the times I’ve fantasized about him. Even when I shouldn’t have.

  “Lizzy, I should apologize for kissing you, but I don’t want to. Kissing you is the best thing that has happened to me since I left town.” A sexy grin plays on his lips. “I just want to wake up tomorrow and know this is all real, that I didn’t conjure you up in my mind again.”

  “It was real. Believe me. I pinched myself a second ago. I can’t believe it either. I could say ditto to everything you just said.”

  The sun plays tricks on me, shining into his hazel eyes, making them look a lighter shade of green. Whatever the color, it doesn’t matter. This man is nothing but sweet words, a kind heart, and sexy good looks.

  He smiles and my heart skips a beat. I swear it does one of those pitter-patter things you read about in books or see in romantic comedies with adorable actors like Ryan Reynolds. If people were watching us, I could just see their hands tucked under their chins, their heads tilted sideways, a tear puddled in the corner of their eyes, with a speech cloud that says, “Awww.” This is how I feel right now. Like a big sappy Hallmark movie.

  He squeezes my hand in his. “I’m glad, but it can’t happen again.”

  Say what? My cheesy romance just turned into a horror story. I can practically hear the screeching of the needle across the vinyl.

  * * *

  As I walk up the steep hill of my street, I pass my house, pass another and then cut across the front lawn of the next house to Molly’s front door. I had every intention of going home and soaking in a warm bath to rehash everything that just happened, but I can’t help the need for some girl talk.

  “Hey, baby.” Molly stands in the doorway, a huge smile spread across her face. A ponytail sits on the top of her head and her face is clear of makeup. She’s still wearing her pajamas, with a boa hanging from her shoulders. “What’s shaking?” She walks away from the door, swinging one end of the feathers in a circle. “Come on in. You look like you’re ready to pass out.”

  I bet I do. After Ryan and I went our separate ways, I hauled ass the rest of the way home. I’m not sure why, but I have this energy I have to expend. I’m totally amped and Molly is just the person to listen.

  “To what do I owe this pleasure? Are you ready to celebrate again?” She opens her stainless steel refrigerator, her entire body hidden by its massive doors. Her whole kitchen reminds me of something you’d see on Extreme Makeovers: sparkling white cabinets, glass-paneled doors, butcher-block countertops. It’s absolutely gorgeous. For what or who, I don’t know. The woman doesn’t cook. Not that I’ve ever seen, anyway. She tosses a water bottle at me.

  I barely catch it before it drops to the floor. “Are you alone?” I don’t know why I ask. The man never stays over. I have yet to meet him. I take a sip of the cold water enjoying the sudden chill coming over my body. I didn’t think I’d ever cool down after Ryan’s kiss.

  “Of course I am.”

  Surprise, surprise. Maybe he works for the CIA. An undercover cop? Maybe he’s in the witness protection program and he has to lay low. Really low? Like maybe, she’s his conjugal visit. Goodness, every time I think of the man, my mind starts making up reasons as to why we have never met him.

  “Cool.” I smile.

  “What’s got your panties all in a tissy? You’re glowing like you just got laid?” Her eyes go wide and her hand shoots up to cover her mouth, an expression of horror displayed over her face. “Did Justin or Owen come back after we left? Please tell me you didn’t sleep with one of those fools. At least not Owen or Jesse. Rachel and Rose would be crushed.”

  I place my water bottle on the counter and scoot a barstool out far enough so I can sit. Molly rests her elbows on the other side of the breakfast bar and leans in to listen.

  “No, I did not sleep with anyone.” I wave off the idea.

  “But you did do something? Something sexual.” Her brows flutter up and down.

  Oh hell. “I kissed someone. I doubt that is the sexual intensity you were hoping for.” Although, it was very sexual to me. Sensual to be exact. I can still feel his moist lips on mine, his minty breath on my face, his gentle touch on my cheek.

  “Oh shit.” She chuckles. “I was just kidding. You kissed someone?” She would be mocking me. “Who?”

  “Ryan.”

  Molly doesn’t say anything. She whips open a cabinet, removes two wine glasses, and sets them on the counter. Then, she opens the fridge again and yanks out a bottle of wine, the sparkling kind I love so much. A few seconds and an electric opener later, the bottle is uncorked and she starts pouring.

  “Seriously, Molls? It’s only ten-ish?”

  She rolls her eyes at me and goes back to the fridge, again. This time, she removes a carton of orange juice and splashes some in each glass. “There. Now, it’s breakfast.” She puts the mimosa concoction to her lips and takes a drink. “Now, spill.”

  I retrace my steps, telling her how I thought I was going to be sliced up into a million pieces and buried on the mountainside until I realized it was Ryan tailing me. She chuckled at my wicked way of imagining the worst. I went on to tell her how he surprised me with a hug that had my insides doing a wild happy dance, and then how he pulled awa
y just as fast when he remembered I was married.

  “You told him you’re divorced, right?” she asks before taking another swig of her drink.

  I take the moment to do the same. “Of course. I couldn’t let him believe I was hitched for another minute.”

  The story continues with the kiss. My face heats up, causing a blush I’m sure makes Molly want to roll on the floor and laugh her ass off, but somehow she exhibits some self-control. But then, I explain how he said it couldn’t happen again and her face takes on the frown of a linebacker ready to pounce.

  “What the hell did he say that for?” she asks.

  I inhale a long breath, trying to remember his exact words.

  “He said that as much as he wanted to hold me close and kiss me forever, that we needed to slow down.” I had to agree with him. It was the first time we had seen each other in months. Even though there is no denying the attraction we both feel toward each other, we have a long way to go. When we were first starting to get to know each other, I was married. We can’t ignore that. Starting fresh with a clean slate is something we need to do to move forward. I explain this to Molly, but she rolls her eyes again.

  “That’s dumb. You want him. He wants you. You’re single. He’s single. What more could you ask for?”

  She has a point too, but I completely understand where Ryan is coming from. We really need to get to know each other. Date. Do something other than meet on the hill or talk during book club meetings.

  “Time,” I answer her question. “Just some time to explore what this really is. Just yesterday, I didn’t know if I’d ever see him again. Now, he’s back and I can’t just pretend time hasn’t passed between us, or that I wasn’t married when he left. For so long, I tried not to think of Ryan because I knew it was wrong. Now, I can think of him all I want.” Now, I’m the one fluttering my brows. “And I have to say, I’m going to enjoy every second of it.”

  “That’s my girl.” She downs what’s left of her drink. “So what’s next?”

  “Well, for starters, I gave him my number. He said he would call me.”

  “When?” she shoots back.

  I put my hands up. “I don’t know.”

  “Why not?” The interrogation continues.

  “I have no idea. After we talked about taking it slow and getting to know each other, we exchanged numbers, he kissed me on the cheek, and we went our separate ways.”

  It occurs to me I haven’t dated in years. When will he call? How long do I wait for him to call? Do I call him? Shoot. This is crazy. This whole getting-to-know-you thing is going to suck.

  “Oh no, Molly. What did I do?” I ask. “Do you think he’ll call?” God, I sound like a sixteen-year-old.

  She reaches across the counter and puts her soft hand on top of mine. “Don’t you worry, sweetheart. Of course, he’ll call.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Ryan

  It’s only been five minutes since I walked in the door to my house and I already want to call her. I’m sprung. That’s what my friends would have called it in junior high. But, that’s how I feel. Like I’m thirteen again and the girl I’ve been obsessed with for months has finally noticed me.

  I don’t know what the hell possessed me to haul her into my arms when I first saw her, but it’s like I was...possessed. By her. By her dazzling green eyes, her gorgeous red hair, and her sweet smile that could brighten the universe. It felt so good to have her tucked into my hold, like she belonged there and nowhere else. When she hugged me back, her hands sliding up my back and holding on tight, I knew without a doubt she is just as drawn to me as I am to her.

  And then I went and kissed her. I did, for fuck’s sake. I couldn’t help myself. She told me she divorced that asshole and I just had to. I was happy, giddy, horny, and again...I was possessed. It’s all her fault. She drew me in with those short three words. I’m not married. That was my cue. What I dwelled on for months, the wall I had built up in my head between us was no longer there. Squashed. Conquered to smithereens with three little words. I’m not married. To be honest, I wouldn’t mind hearing them again.

  That kiss. It was just the beginning. It was short, sweet, and exactly what I needed to know for sure. If I ever had any doubts before, they were all washed away as soon as she kissed me back. She is the woman I’m meant to be with.

  * * *

  A pounding at my door startles me from my thoughts. I’m not sure how I got here, but I’m lounging in my recliner with my feet up and my hands crossed over my abdomen. Quickly, I push up into a sitting position and then get to my feet.

  “I brought a twelve-pack.” Justin holds up a box of beer as soon as I open the door. “By the look on your face at the house earlier, you have a lot of talking to do, so let’s fire up the grill and throw back a few.”

  He doesn’t wait for an invitation, he steps into my house and heads straight for the kitchen with the beer in one hand and grocery bag in the other.

  I watch as he places the beer in the fridge. I laugh to myself when I notice I haven’t taken the time to restock it yet. All I have are some old bottles of ketchup and mustard, and a few water bottles. I did have enough sense to dump out anything that would spoil before I left.

  “It’s a good thing I brought some food. I’m starving.”

  He slides a bottle of brew across the granite counter toward me. I catch it as it sweeps across the slab, twist off the top, and take my first drink. Nothing like an ice-cold beer after a long run on a hot day. I take another gulp.

  Justin doesn’t say much as he whips open what seems like every cabinet in my small but tidy kitchen until he finds a metal cooking dish. He then rips open a package of butcher paper and places two rather large steaks inside, easily filling the pan. Just when I think he is done, he digs through his grocery bag again, and this time he pulls out a small plastic container. Spices. He sprinkles each slab of meat, inspecting both sides to make sure they are evenly coated.

  “Let’s go,” he says, taking the pan in one hand and his beer in the other. “You can fill me in once we have these on the grill.”

  “I can run to the store really quick to grab some sides or something?” I’m usually a meat and potato kind of guy, but stabbing a fork into my steak and eating it by itself doesn’t bother me one bit.

  “What? Like a salad?” Justin rolls his eyes. “Stop being a bitch and stalling. Grab a few more brews and let’s go.”

  A man of few words. The man kills me. We’ve known each other for years and have gotten along great. Even though we haven’t always kept in touch when we lived miles apart, when we have seen each other, everything always seems to fall into step like no time has passed. When a spot opened in his house, I jumped at the chance to work with him...to get away from my life at the time.

  Luck was on my side when I found this home. I couldn’t resist the small one-story three-bedroom with two bathrooms and a kick-ass man cave in the garage. The couple who lived here before were newlyweds who were looking to upgrade when they found out they were pregnant with twins. They needed out fast since they wanted to get settled in a new, larger home before she delivered, and I needed a place to live. It seemed like everything was falling into place. The job. The house. The girl. That was until I found out she was married.

  But she’s not. Anymore.

  Justin unlocks the sliding glass door that opens toward the patio out back. My backyard is small, but nicely landscaped. A built-in bar with BBQ is really what I was looking for in a new place. I don’t do a lot of cooking in the kitchen. When I do cook for myself, I usually grill a steak, a piece of chicken breast, or hell, even a hamburger or hot dog. So outdoor dining was important to me. The yard full of grass and low maintenance plants and palms is a bonus.

  I fire up the grill and my friend allows me to take the steaks from him after a bit of a push and shove match. I don’t know what it is about men, but a man’s BBQ is his own. Just like his woman, there is an unspoken hand’s off rule for all other men.
When the grates are hot enough, I lay the T-bones across them, loving the sound of the first sizzle.

  Small talk volleys between us as we wait for our meal to be done. Justin fills me in on a few big calls they had while I was gone—big to them anyway. A local hamburger joint had a grease fire extinguished quickly enough so no long-term damage was done. The whole town has been thanking the guys for saving the best burger in town.

  It’s not long before we’re stuffing our faces with BBQ and a bag of Doritos I snagged from the cupboard on the way out of the house. “What kind of spice did you use? This is really good.”

  He rambles on about a mixture he found at a deli about an hour from here and how he now uses it on everything. Even keeps a container in the glove compartment of his car. We continue shooting the shit until he swipes a napkin across his mouth, wrings it through his hands, and tosses it on his empty plate. “Now quit the crap already. What’s going on, Ry?”

  “What do you mean?” When I saw him earlier, I had no idea where to start. I just got back and I knew he would want to hear about the status of the fires and how the other guys were holding up, but he could sense there was more going on in my life. He asked me how long I had been back and I told him I only got in the night before. He asked me about my morning and if I had seen anyone since I got back. I told him that I ran into Lizzy on a run this morning and it felt like more of a confession. As much as I tried to hide my emotions over having seen her—holding her and kissing her—if I had to guess, Justin easily read that something was up.

  “You’re seriously going to hold back on me?” He shakes his head, giving me a look of disgust. “Come on, man. You didn’t just run into Liz. There has to be more. You were as jumpy as a guilty little kid in a candy store who just stole a Kit Kat bar.”

  “I promise, I didn’t steal her candy bar.” A smirk plays on my lips as I look away from him.