Something in the Way: A Forbidden Love Saga: The Complete Collection

by Hawkins, Jessica

  “I can bring my things to your place,” he said. “I felt bad last night about scratching you up with my stubble.”

  His five o’clock shadow was the least of what bothered me. I took my arms from around him. “Go then. Get your stuff and we can meet later.”

  “Hey.” He pinched my chin to keep me from turning away. “Do you want to make love in a hotel I paid for with an account I share with your sister? What’s the alternative?”

  I wiggled to get off the wall and he let me. When my blades hit the ice, they began to slide out from under me, but he caught me by my waist like I was some kind of doll, setting me upright again.

  A woman around my mom’s age approached us, slowing to a stop with her pre-teen daughter in tow. “We were just saying you two are the most adorable couple we’ve ever seen,” she gushed in a southern accent.

  “Mom,” the girl said, rolling her eyes before she sped off.

  Manning tensed and moved to stand a few inches in front of me. He reached back and took my hand. It felt protective rather than loving, as if something had him worried. For whatever reason, his uneasiness melted my anger.

  “Thank you,” I said.

  “It’s awfully sweet,” she said. “I’m trying to figure out if you’re the high school sweetheart type of couple or if you’re in that honeymoon phase. Which is it?”

  “We met in college,” he said. “So I guess it’s the first one.”

  “Well, you’re precious.”

  “Yes,” he said, squeezing my hand. “She is.”

  “Oh my. He’s a keeper.” She winked at me, teasing. “Are you married, and if not, when’s the wedding?”

  Wedding? There was no wedding, and maybe there would never be. At least not anytime soon. And if there was, it would be a pretty lonely affair without my family in attendance.

  He’s already married.

  I almost said it to see her reaction. Someone had to stop us, and maybe it was this woman. Things couldn’t keep going as well as they had.

  “In the summer. That’s her favorite time of year.” Manning moved his arm around my shoulder. “It’ll be intimate, just close friends.”

  “And family,” the woman added.

  “No, no family.”

  I couldn’t have my own family at my wedding, but neither could Manning. Realizing that actually made me feel closer to him. I cozied into his side. “Are you sure that’s my favorite time of year?” I asked. “I never told you that.”

  “You’re a summer baby.” He looked down at me. “Born in June, grew up in the ocean and under the sun. Or has that changed?” He grinned. “Are you an ice queen now?”

  I couldn’t pick a favorite season. I loved them all for different reasons—although winter was certainly pulling ahead based on today. “Any time of year is fine with me,” I said.

  “She’s an easy bride,” he told the woman. “Doesn’t need much, and neither do I. Just her.”

  “Let’s see the ring,” the lady said.

  Manning smiled. “I haven’t asked yet.”

  She gasped, slapping a hand over her mouth. “And I ruined it. Did I ruin it? You’re too sweet.” She winked at me. “Marry him. Surely you’re already beating the women off with a stick. No reason to delay.”

  Manning’s mood visibly lightened. “You hear that? Why delay the inevitable?”

  Feeding off their playfulness, I relaxed. “Okay. I guess so.”

  She clapped her hands. “Oh, you’ve made my afternoon. My entire trip. I’m going to go home and tell all my girlfriends I witnessed a proposal.” She pushed off. “Best of luck to you both!”

  “Why’d you lie to her?” I asked as Manning watched her skate away.

  “Not a lie so much as a fantasy. Didn’t any of that sound good to you?”

  “You said we met in college, though.”

  “I was teasing.” He skated back from me, our hands locked between us. “Come on. I’ve seen enough of your New York for one day. Now I want to go back to heaven.”

  “And that would be . . .?”

  “My precious girl,” he said, mocking the woman’s accent, “in her precious bed.”

  I pulled on his hand, but he was so solid that all I did was glide toward him. When I collided with his side, I leaned on him for a kiss. No matter how much of my weight I gave him, Manning never budged, not even in skates.

  13

  Manning

  Lake’d been asleep for ten hours. I’d worn her out, whereas I was just getting started. I’d woken up throughout the night and morning to check on her. My visions of bad-things-happening shouldn’t have been as severe as they’d been when she was younger. Back then, she’d been naïve, and she still was in some ways, but she was an adult now. She could care for herself.

  Those visions hadn’t gone away, though.

  When the woman at the ice skating rink had approached us, my heart’d locked in my chest, my instincts turning predatory. I’d felt threatened by a woman in her forties and lied about meeting Lake in college because for the briefest of moments, I’d expected her to say, “Get your hands off that child.”

  It was ridiculous; nobody would look twice at us now, but it’d seemed as if she’d known, on some level, how old Lake had been when I’d met her. Known all the reasons Lake and I weren’t supposed to be standing on that rink, touching and kissing as freely as we’d been.

  Lake slept soundly on her stomach. It didn’t even look as though she were breathing. I moved some of her fine blonde hair off her neck, soothed by how warm her skin was. I wanted to touch and be touched by her. I wanted to have her now and keep having her until it became too much. I couldn’t help the feeling she could be taken away from me at any moment.

  There was a lot to figure out, a lot left to say, but I didn’t want to go there yet. For two more days, Lake and I were a regular couple in love. We didn’t need anything but each other. My stomach grumbled. Each other, and some food.

  Lake stirred, smiling before she even opened her eyes. “That feels nice.”

  I realized I was petting her. “I woke you. I couldn’t keep my hands to myself.”

  “Did you have sex with me?”

  “While you slept?” I heard the alarm in my voice. “I generally prefer you to be conscious.”

  She smiled wider. “I guess it was a dream then.”

  “So all the sex we had over the past forty-eight hours wasn’t enough? You dream about it, too?”

  “All signs point to yes.”

  I was understandably hard. Not only had I just woken up, but she was on her stomach, the sheet light over her shoulder blades. It’d be the perfect moment to have her from behind for the first time.

  “Is it late?” she asked.

  “Hmm. I’d say around noon.”

  Her head shot up. “Noon?”

  “You were out like a light.”

  “Shit.” She turned over, keeping the sheet around her breasts as she sat up. I pulled it down so I could see her, thumbing a bubble-gum pink nipple as I salivated. “I’m supposed to be arriving at work right now.”

  “Can you call in?”

  “I already did yesterday and the night of the show,” she said, standing. “Damn it.”

  I reached for her hand, pulling her back on the bed. “It’s not inconceivable that you’d be sick for four days. Tell them you have the flu or something.”

  She sighed, letting me fit her back against my front. “I already said it was food poisoning.”

  “Well, you’re not a doctor. How could you have known?” I nuzzled her neck. “Besides, I have another job for you.”

  “Does it pay more than minimum wage?”

  “I’m hungry, Lake. I need to be fed.”

  She twisted in my arms to look back at me and sigh. “I guess it’s a good thing I picked up all the ingredients for the Lake Special on our way home last night.”

  When she’d turned, her crotch had brushed mine, and now I had a dilemma on my hands. I was horny for her. I
was also starving.

  She wiggled out from under me and grabbed a thin robe off the back of her door.

  “Do you need to be clothed to make sandwiches?” I asked.

  She smiled as she tied it closed. “What if Val comes in?”

  As she left, I got up to take a piss. I guessed it was too much to ask for Lake and me to have a space of our own, but I really fucking hated that we couldn’t just relax.

  On my way out of the bathroom, I pulled on my underwear and found Lake in the kitchen, peppering the counter with ingredients. “I’ve been craving the Lake Special since I had it the first time six years ago,” I said.

  “You had the real Lake Special last night,” she teased.

  “I did.” I came up behind her, pulling some of her hair aside to kiss her neck. “And I’m going to have at least a few more helpings today.”

  She pointed at a cabinet. “Can you get down the plates?”

  “You mean these?” I asked, reaching for a stack of dishes in the door-less cabinet right in front of us.

  “No. I have special plates on the top shelf. In case . . .”

  “In case?”

  “I ever had an important guest.”

  I raised my eyebrows at her, reaching above her head to the top cabinet. “What do you do when I’m not here to get them down for you?”

  “I have a stepstool.”

  It was so cute, I almost picked her up right there and took her back to bed.

  “Also,” she added, “you’re the only important guest I’ve had.”

  I kissed the top of her head. The plates were hard plastic with flowers, nothing special, but to me they indicated she’d been thinking of me when I wasn’t around and that was definitely something I’d hold on to while I was away.

  “Manning?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Want to learn how to make the Lake Special?” she asked.

  “Won’t you always be around to make it for me?”

  “Mhm, that’s the plan.”

  As I watched her smile to herself, my lungs constricted. Lake had always been part of me, tangled with my insides in ways I’d often wished she weren’t. I held her as close to the chest as Maddy’s death or my time in SHU. But in only two and a half days, she’d become my world. And in another two and a half days, I’d be separated from her again. How long would I be gone? I didn’t know. I didn’t care how to make the damn sandwich, but I would take an excuse to watch and listen to her do anything. “Teach me.”

  “Wash these.” She slid over a cutting board with lettuce and a tomato. I indulged her, sneaking glances at her bare legs when I could. Once I’d cleaned and sliced, I washed my hands and without drying them, slipped them inside her robe, hugging her from behind.

  She inhaled a breath. “Your hands are wet.”

  “Mmm.” I ran them over her stomach then held her back to my front as she worked at the counter.

  She put out four slices of bread and spread mayonnaise on each of them. “Be generous with the mayo, but don’t overdo it or it’ll get soggy.”

  “Uh-huh.” I put my nose in her hair. What I would’ve given over the years to smell her shampoo. Feel her voice vibrate against my body as she spoke. Get a taste of the heaven I’d come close to before I’d been hauled off to prison. “Do you still have that watermelon lip stuff?”

  “Huh?”

  “That Chapstick you wore a long time ago.”

  “I could probably find some,” she said distractedly.

  “Find some.”

  “Are you listening?” she asked, picking up an avocado.

  “I’m trying.” I took it from her, cutting into the gnarled skin and slicing it onto both sandwiches.

  “The ratio of meat to cheese to condiments is very important.”

  “Tell me more about that.” I kissed her neck. Pinned her to the counter with my hips. Returned my hands under her robe, this time lowering them between her legs.

  “Oh,” she moaned, squirting barbecue sauce on the counter.

  “You’re making a mess,” I scolded.

  “What?”

  I caressed her, feeling an undeniable ownership over a body I’d only gotten command of a couple days ago. I wasn’t as familiar with her as I wanted to be, though, not by a long shot. I looked forward to learning everything that made her knees give out the way they were now. “How’s that feel, Birdy?” I murmured in her ear, holding her upright, rubbing her.

  “This isn’t sanitary,” she whispered back. “For the sandwiches.”

  “I’m not the one making them. Doesn’t matter if my hands get dirty.”

  She bit her bottom lip while I lazily determined if she was wet enough now or if I should find a way to get her there. I needed to be inside her. Her teeth dug into her lip harder as I fingered her. She gripped the bottle of sauce and failed to keep her little squeaks inside. I urged her onto her toes, lifted her robe, and bent my knees enough to pull down my underwear and slide inside her.

  “Don’t stop on my account,” I said, pushing deeper. She still couldn’t take all of me in one go, and easing in was a sweet kind of torture. “I guarantee you we’ll be hungry when we’re done.”

  Breathlessly, she slapped ham onto both sandwiches. “The order of the meats matters . . .” She gulped, her fist curling around a deli bag of medium cheddar. “And the cheese, too . . .”

  I laughed to myself, wondering how long she’d last, then squeezed my arm between her and the counter. “What next?” I asked as I circled her clit.

  “I don’t know.” She fell forward and her hair parted, exposing the top of her spine to me. “I forget.”

  I kissed the nape of her neck. Even that was sexy, the light freckles that hid under her blonde hair. I moved in and out of her until she had to grip the counter. I covered her hands with mine, interlacing our fingers as I held on with her and took her faster and faster until I was hanging by a thread, doing everything I could to make her come. She climaxed with her entire body, her shoulder blades jutting out and her hair shimmering like a golden waterfall.

  I pulled out not a second too soon and came on the counter, right next to the sandwiches.

  “Manning,” she scolded.

  I had to chuckle as I massaged her slender shoulders, blowing on her damp hairline. “It was either there or your pretty robe,” I said, still catching my breath. “Come here.”

  She turned her head, giving me her mouth. Kissing her was such a natural thing, but I’d been unable to do it so long, it felt exceptional. I needed it, and that was a first. I’d been satisfied after sex, but I’d never needed to feel close to anyone like Lake, to touch her, to know she was also sated and comfortable. As I kissed her, I realized what I loved about her in this moment wasn’t just her vulnerability, but that she’d brought it out in me, too.

  When she tried to pull away, I kept her to me with a hand on her throat. “Not done with you yet.”

  “I really should try to make the second part of my shift,” she murmured. “I need the money.”

  Money. Lake wasn’t supposed to want for anything. For someone like her, the basics should be covered so she could be free to do and be what she wanted. That was the vision I’d had for her, the one my stubbornness had ruined.

  “I mean, don’t you have work to do anyway?” she asked, wiping down the counter. She checked to make sure the sandwiches had been spared and resumed making them.

  Work was a reality I couldn’t ignore. I hadn’t missed another meeting since we’d slept the day away, but only because I’d been rescheduling them to make room for her. The truth was, I needed to work while I was here. I was going to lose these clients once I left Ainsley-Bushner, but I couldn’t pass up the commission I would need to get me through the next few months. And not only that, but I hadn’t mentioned to Lake I was due a sizeable bonus at the new year. Anxious as I was about leaving my job without a replacement, I wasn’t sure I could walk away from that, but it would mean not initiating the divorce until after
the holidays.

  I wiped my brow, tucking myself back in my boxer-briefs, and leaned back against the sink. “Yeah, I actually do need to run to Beth Israel for an appointment, but that’s ten minutes from here and I liked the idea of you waiting for me here until I returned.”

  “It’s twenty minutes,” she said, “and you can come back here after your meeting. I won’t be home until after ten, though.”

  “After ten?” I tried to get her to look at me, but she focused on slicing the sandwiches down the middle. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

  Her head shot up. “What?”

  “You were going to work a ten-hour shift? Isn’t there a law against that or something?”

  She laughed a little, plating the sandwiches. “I haven’t been arrested yet.”

  I thought of Lake on her feet all day, leaving after dark, when the streets were quiet. She wouldn’t be doing that alone tonight, but I couldn’t always be here to walk her home.

  She held out the plate to me, but I kept my eyes on her. Not even a monster sandwich could dislodge the pit in my gut. “I really wish you’d quit,” I said.

  “Can’t. The tips are—well, they aren’t great, but they’re tips.”

  “Can’t you pick up more hours at the animal shelter?” I asked.

  “If I could, I would. They cut back during winter so I’m only there one day a week right now. I don’t make tips there anyway.”

  “Lake.” I took the plate and put it on the counter. “You’re my girl now. I have big plans for us. I can’t go back to California knowing you’re working that late at night, that you’re living in a place a step down from the shed in my backyard.”

  “I resent that,” she said. “I was doing fine without you, and I’ll be fine when you go.”

  “You’ll be fine?” I asked.

  “Financially, yes.”

  I took her waist and brought her close. “And in a non-financial capacity?” I asked, hugging her.

  She looked at my chest but thawed a little. “I need this job. Not just for the money, but if I don’t keep busy day and night, even when the rest of the city sleeps . . . the minute I stop, I’ll think about you there with her.”