Love in a Small Town (Pine Harbour Book 1)

by Zoe York

  She lifted her hands in the air. “I know. But today I’m not leaving town. I’ve got two jobs to the middle of the summer, and I don’t know…maybe I won’t leave at all.”

  He stared at her. “Why?”

  “Does it matter?” She didn’t really know the answer to that question yet. It just didn’t feel right, leaving. She’d been running away from something she didn’t need to fear. No matter what, she could stand on her own two feet in Pine Harbour.

  He nodded slowly. “I think it does. I think if we’re going to do this, we have to start differently. As equals, no obligation.”

  She looked at his hand resting on top of the cushions at the back of the couch. Tan skin, a light dusting of dark hair at the wrist, neatly trimmed nails at the end of big, blunt fingers. He was a giant of a man, and when she’d met him she knew he would be a good husband and lover. He had been. A good father and provider. He would have been. Hurt stabbed through her chest. Not her own…his. She might have come to Pine Harbour because he had the career and she didn’t, but her obligation to him faded pretty damn quickly after that. And she started demanding more and more of him. More attention. More understanding. More and more until he couldn’t give it.

  She knew now that she should have sought the stimulation she needed in something else. A hobby, although that sounded weak. Should have looked harder for a more interesting job. Been more serious about taking up running or having children. Rafe had wanted kids. She’d wanted to wait, but now that she was nearing thirty, starting a family sounded way less frightening than it had in her early twenties. But maybe that wasn’t on the table. Not the way Rafe was talking about no obligations and doing things differently.

  “That doesn’t sound like a second attempt at marriage,” she said softly.

  He shook his head. “I don’t know if we were meant to be married, Liv.”

  Now the hurt was one hundred percent hers. Oh. Heat flooded her cheeks, crawling down her neck and across her chest. “I thought we’d agreed there was too much history between us for something casual.”

  He shifted forward enough to grab her hand and pull her toward him. Not hard against his body, just close enough for their knees to bump and his hand to reach her face. “There is.” He sighed, a deep, heavy release that left a lingering crease between his brows. “But we need to build a better foundation this time. And who knows if that’ll happen? But I want to give it a shot.”

  The truth of what he was saying stole her breath away. She felt the trembling start in her middle and travel across her entire body.

  “Hey, hey,” he murmured, stroking her knuckles with his thumb. “Was that too blunt? I want it to happen. I want nothing more than to find a way back to you. Permanently.”

  She offered a shaky smile. “It’s not very romantic, though, is it?”

  He gave her a hard look. “Is that what you want? Romance?”

  She turned the question over in her head. “I don’t know. I liked…” Realization dawned on her. “Oh. You aren’t sure how I felt about your notes.”

  Now it was his turn to blush, just slightly, his tan cheeks turning the barest shade of red. “I figured you saw it as an opening, but the way you were acting tonight…”

  “Like a hussy?”

  “Hey, I like hussies.” He laughed at the mock offence she took. “One in particular, who has this bizarre clothes-on policy that makes things…challenging.”

  “A good challenge?” Her breath hitched.

  He nodded and tugged her closer still, not stopping until she was splayed out on his chest. “A smart, delicious, frustrating challenge.” He nipped at her ear. “One that I’m totally up for, by the way.”

  “It’s just for a little while,” she whispered, nuzzling her face into his neck.

  “Until the lingerie order gets here?” His hands were everywhere—squeezing her bottom, stroking her back, tangling in her hair. Her elastic band went pinging off the wall behind them and Rafe slid down the couch a bit, settling her more squarely on his lap. She rocked gently back and forth, cradling his growing erection in her soft heat. “Please tell me you ordered express shipping.”

  She shook her head, her hair hanging down around them both like an intimate curtain. “Sorry,” she whispered. “They’re coming on the slow boat from England.”

  “Damn,” he groaned. “I’m going to have to torture you, then. Make you as crazy for me as I am for you.”

  “You’re crazy for—“ He cut her off with a punishing kiss, like how dare she not know that, and then they were done talking.

  — FIFTEEN —

  NINE days later, Olivia came home and found a brown package with UK postage propped against her front door. She might have a masochistic side, she decided, because after trying everything on, she tucked the box away in her dresser. Not yet. And not because they weren’t having a great time. They were having an amazing time. Rafe had worked four day shifts in the middle of the week, and then three in a row starting on Sunday, but on his way home every night he’d stopped at her place for a few hours. They ate dinner and talked and kissed.

  They kissed a lot. Slow and fast, hungry and sweet. As soon as he arrived, in between sharing the events of their days and gossip about people they knew, and for a long time before he regretfully left each night.

  He didn’t need to leave. She’d thought about suggesting he stay—they’d slept together with clothes on for the better part of four years. They could do it now and not have sex. But she was afraid he’d say no. Rafe seemed to enjoy this early relationship renaissance. For reasons she knew were illogical and unfair, that pissed her off.

  She wanted him to want more.

  She wanted more.

  So when he showed up Tuesday night, dead on his feet at the end of his run of shifts, she was prepared to tell him to go home. It wasn’t what she wanted, but she didn’t know how to show him her heart without risking too much. Without knowing that all his professions of intent would be followed by real, lasting action. But then he wrapped himself around her, sagging hard against her like her embrace was exactly what he’d needed at the end of his day, and none of it mattered.

  “Hungry?” she whispered.

  He shook his head. “Tired. Can I snooze on your couch while you watch TV? Is that awful?”

  It sounded almost perfect. “I have a better idea.” She led him to her bed and reached for his belt. “Underwear counts as clothes for tonight.”

  “I couldn’t get it up if I tried, baby. Which is a damn shame.” He laughed, a bone-weary sound that cracked her heart. They snuggled under the blankets, Rafe’s hand cupping her breast through her t-shirt, his lips pressed to the back of her neck. He started snoring, a light, reassuring sound she’d missed with all of her being, and as she watched streaming TV on her iPad, his erection slowly rose behind her. Soon, she promised in her head.

  — —

  Rafe woke up ready to convince Liv they should take their relationship to the next level. He’d spent all night wrapped around her body, and had taken her six ways from Sunday already in his dreams. But when warm sun hit his face and he reached for his wife, he found a note on her pillow instead. Gone to work at the diner. Come find me there for coffee. Beside her note was her discarded t-shirt, and like a lovesick teen he buried his face in it and fisted his ready and willing cock. Not this morning, buddy. But soon, really soon. He dragged himself into the shower, emerging five minutes later smelling like a fucking meadow, a fact that Liv found hysterical when he showed up for his promised caffeine hit.

  “You smell pretty,” she whispered as she sashayed past him. He was going to miss that little apron when she stopped working there. He wanted to fold her over his lap and spank her soundly for being cheeky. “And you look…frustrated,” she added after she filled his cup. She set the carafe to the side and leaned across the counter, kissing him lightly on the cheek.

  He shot his hand out and cupped the back of her neck, holding her in place. “That’s not a good morn
ing kiss,” he muttered, trying to keep a smile at bay.

  She arched one eyebrow and took a deep breath, her pupils dilating. “Oh no?”

  He shook his head and pulled them back together, ignoring the dozen or so other people in the place. They could all go to hell. There was only one way he wanted his wife to kiss him in the morning—long, hard and dirty. He licked across the flesh of her lower lip, and then inside her mouth as she sucked in a breath, parting her pretty little lips. Far too quickly for his own liking he pulled back, enjoying the slightly glazed look on her face. “I’ll take the special.”

  She stared at him for a minute, her cheeks pink and her lips swollen, then gave him a mock-scowl and scribbled his order on her pad. “You think you’re something else, don’t you, Rafe Minelli.”

  “That I do, Olivia Minelli.” He lowered his voice and leaned forward. “Thank you for last night.”

  Her eyes softened and she shook her head. “You work too hard.”

  “I know.” He really did. He couldn’t see a way around that, but it was on his mind. She deserved more of his time.

  “You off today?”

  “I parade tonight with the regiment, but that’s it until the weekend.” He didn’t want to assume too much, but just in case she didn’t want to ask… “I’m free for whatever. Morning, noon or…night.” He grinned on the last point and she flicked him with her tea towel.

  “Will you be late tonight?”

  “Probably.”

  He could see the battle in her eyes. Kindness won out, and he silently pledged to get himself out of the armouries as soon as humanly possible. “You still got your key?”

  “You didn’t change the locks?”

  She gave him a grumpy side-eye for that question. “Seriously? Because you’re so scary or something?”

  “Or something. It’s the thing to do, baby.”

  “Well, I didn’t, and now you can let yourself in when you get back, so take your judgement and stuff it, mister.”

  He smiled into his coffee.

  “Stop smiling. I might get the locks changed this afternoon.” She tossed that one over her shoulder as she took menus to two newcomers, and he reached out and patted her behind. That got a round of chuckles from the room, and Liv turned bright pink.

  But it was the good kind of blushing, the kind that said she knew she was loved.

  — —

  Half his section didn’t show up, which would normally piss him off—two of them were out of work and could use the money, and if he could make it every week, they had no excuse—but when he got the hell out of there at quarter after ten, he didn’t mind so much.

  He sped the whole way home, knowing that he was spending the night with Liv and it would be worth the caution if he got pulled over by one of his brothers in blue. The lights were on when he pulled his truck into the drive, and he hopped out, grabbing his already packed overnight bag.

  The door wasn’t locked and he didn’t bother knocking. From the entrance he could see her sitting on the couch, and she twisted to give him a smile. “You’re back earlier than I expected.”

  “Had to see my girl.”

  She reached up as he neared her and he let her pull him down. She sank into the cushions beneath him and he pushed himself up.

  “No,” she whispered. “I like how heavy you are.”

  He took her mouth, slow and sweet, showing her how much he missed her. “I’ve been looking forward to this all day.”

  “Then we should go to bed,” she said, nipping at his chin.

  He moved on top of her, settling himself better between her legs. If they went to bed, they could lose at least some of their clothes. “Are you tired?”

  “Nope.”

  “Good.” He hauled her up in one swift motion and tossed her over his shoulder like a rag doll. He strode into the bedroom, setting her down just long enough to whip off his shirt. She giggled as he wrapped his arms around her again and lifted her high against his body.

  “We keep meeting like this,” she said breathlessly, tightening her thighs around his waist.

  “My arms were made to hold you,” he said. It was supposed to sound romantic, but they both started laughing. “Too much?” he asked as he pressed her against the wall, freeing one hand to start exploring under her shirt as the other cupped her magnificent ass.

  She gasped as his thumb found her nipple on the outside of her bra. “Nope, totally…sweet.”

  “I wasn’t going for sweet,” he growled, sucking on her neck.

  “Sweet in a…” She interrupted herself with a moan. “Take my clothes off kind of way.”

  He froze. “All the way off?”

  She nodded.

  He shoved his hand higher, all the way under her shirt and up out the scoop neck. He traced a line up her neck and tapped on her chin. She blinked hard as she looked him in the eye. “That’s a big step.”

  “Trying to talk me out of it?” she squirmed, trying to make more deliberate contact with his erection. He jerked hard against her and then tilted his hips out of reach.

  “No. Yes. I don’t know.” He traced circles around her collarbone with his index finger, just watching her as she wriggled against the wall. He shifted closer and kissed one cheekbone ever so lightly, then the other. “Are we officially back together?”

  “Maybe?”

  He pulled back and raised his eyebrows. “Maybe?”

  “Can’t we just do this?” She licked her lips and arched toward him. “I don’t want to think about what we’d tell people if we started dating again.”

  They already know. “We don’t need to tell them anything,” he said, not really a lie. He tugged the low neckline of her t-shirt down, exposing the lace of her bra. “I definitely don’t want to share this with anyone.”

  “Is that what we’re doing? Dating?” She ran her hands over his shoulders, up into his hair, and back again.

  “We should figure that out before we go any further,” he said before diving in for another kiss.

  She slid her hands around his neck and squeezed, trying to get him closer. “That would be smart.”

  “The right thing to do.” He tightened his hold on her and spun them around, aiming for the bed. She landed in the middle and he stood over her, half out of his mind with lust. “Take off your clothes.”

  “So much for talking?”

  “It’ll give us something to fight about tomorrow.” His heart pounded in his chest, his dick strained at his fly, and all of a sudden he needed this to be real. Enough playing. “Olivia, I don’t know what we’re doing. But I love you.”

  “Good enough for me,” she whispered, unbuttoning her jeans. He did the same, never taking his eyes off of her as every curve he’d missed for too damn long came into view. Soft, smooth, porcelain skin, dipping and swelling around red mesh panties that left very little to the imagination.

  “Oh baby,” he groaned, falling on top of her.

  “We need a condom,” she said as he helped slide her out of her t-shirt, then her bra and finally those teasing bottoms.

  Fuck. “I don’t have one.” He was an idiot. Of course she’d want him to wear a rubber. “It’s okay, we can do other stuff.”

  Her mouth parted and she let out a breathless little sound that made him hard as nails. “Other stuff?”

  He grinned. “I want to lick you till you scream.”

  “I like the sound of that.” She licked her lips. “But I really wanted…”

  He pressed his forehead against hers as she blushed. “Me too, baby.”

  She twisted toward the bedside table. “I might have some in here, hang on.”

  He followed her, pressing against her back. “Two years, Liv,” he rasped against the nape of her neck. “It’s been two years. I’m going to come on your legs like a fifteen-year-old boy in a minute.”

  She froze. “You haven’t slept with anyone else?”

  “I never wanted anyone else. I just want you.” Admitting that should have
been humbling, but it just felt freeing to admit. He could blame the height of passion if it came up later. After he made love to his wife.

  She rolled back toward him, making enough space between them for his cock to wave free like a fucking flagpole. Her breaths were slow and heavy as she stroked his rock-hard length. “You promise me—”

  He cut her off with a kiss. “There’s been no one else, Liv. I swear.”

  “Me too. And I’m still on the pill.”

  “We don’t need to…I’m good with whatever.” But oh god, he’d missed being inside her, and he wasn’t sure he’d kept a pleading tone out of his voice. Fuck it. He didn’t care.

  Her eyes were wide and bright as she stared at him, and it wasn’t until he felt her warm, wet folds on the head of his cock that he realized she’d lifted her leg and was slowly bringing them together. Jesus Christ, she was slippery as fuck and felt amazing. After teasing him for a painfully glorious minute, swirling her hips and lodging just the tip of his cock inside her, she pushed him back and straddled his hips. It took all of his restraint to not surge up and into her tight heat, but she was in charge.

  She sank down an inch or two, then up again, easing him slowly into her tight channel. She felt incredible, inside and out. “I’m not going to last long,” she admitted shakily, and he gave a silent prayer of thanks.

  “Come for me, baby.” He stroked his hands up and down her thighs, then up and over her belly and down to her mound. She liked a thumb right there, just above her clit, rocking back and forth. In the past she’d done it, and he’d watched her fingers fly just above where they were joined. But tonight he wanted to bring her to the brink. It would satisfy some base male need inside him to be the instrument of all her pleasure.

  She tipped her head back as she started to move her hands up and down her torso. Reedy, whispery moans slipped out of her mouth as she picked up the pace, squeezing him inside and out. He couldn’t hold back, pumping his hips in time to her lift and sway. Driving deep. How had he given her up? Nothing was like this, that incredible otherworldly sensation of sliding into his mate. Slick and soft and infinitely powerful at the same time.