He laughed. “I sure hope it will when I’m done. Not looking for a repeat of our night on the lake. It nearly killed me.”
“I remember it differently.”
“Yeah?” His expression sobered. “How do you remember it?”
Since he’d asked, I took a breath and told him the truth for all the times I’d had to keep it to myself. “I remember stripping down for you in the moonlight. Feeling turned on by every last thing, from the water against my skin to knowing your eyes were on me to the mud between my toes when I curled them. I wanted nothing more in the world than for you to touch me. I wanted you so bad, Manning. I would’ve given anything.”
He took my forearm, tugging me closer to the side of the boat. “You asked why I did all this, Lake? I did it for you. I made this boat to take you on the water.”
My heart was in my throat. I wasn’t sure I’d ever get used to Manning admitting he wanted me, and it was clear to me why he never could before. Once he’d let himself love me, he did it with a ferocity that would’ve changed me as a girl. That would’ve worried my family and friends, and changed the course of my future. At some point, Manning had decided I was the only one for him, so he’d built an empire for a queen he didn’t have. “You’re going to make me cry again,” I whispered.
“Don’t. I can’t stand it. Come in here so I can kiss all those tears off your cheeks for good.”
That night in the truck was still clear as day to me. How I’d ached for him and his sister, how scared I’d been when the policeman had pulled us over, how I’d desired Manning enough to tempt him from the moral ground where he’d dug in his heels. “Will you kiss me other places?” I asked.
He wet his lips. “Like I said, I built this to take you on the lake . . . the way I probably should’ve years ago.”
His large hand both warmed me and sent goosebumps down to my ankles. “You mean when I was sixteen?” I teased. “God, I’d give anything to go back to that moment just to tell your twenty-three-year-old self what you’re saying eleven years later.”
“I was a fool.” With a grunt, he pulled me hard enough that I had to decide if I was getting in with him or staying on dry land, where it was safe. “That side of the boat’s called the starboard,” he said. “Now climb over the starboard side and into my lap.”
“Manning . . .”
“This is it, Lake. I’m offering you everything I have. And I’m taking what I’ve always wanted.”
That was enough to get me in the boat. I held the front of my skirt and climbed in to stand between his legs.
Looking up at me, he said, “You know this sweater you’ve got on is see-through?”
“I had no idea,” I lied.
“Right. Spin around for me.”
I turned away from him to face the bow. He sat me on his lap and ran both hands up the inside of my sweater, lifting it until I pulled it over my head.
“Lake,” he murmured, discarding my bra, moving my hair over one shoulder. He smoothed his callused palms down my shoulder blades, my spine, massaging my back, my upper arms. “You’re shaking again,” he said. “Always shaking the first time.”
“Just with you,” I said. The light above the barn door clicked off. “It’s been so long.”
“I needed a woman’s touch. And you, you need a man’s touch, don’t you, Birdy?”
I shuddered, cold and turned on. He slid his warm hands around to my front and held my breasts. “I just need you,” I said.
“Is it over with him?”
“Who?”
“Whoever he is. Whoever has you right now. Corbin or someone else, doesn’t matter.”
I stood, the light came on, and I turned to straddle him. “Don’t you see, Manning? You’re the only one who’s ever had me. I tried. I dated, I had sex, I had boyfriends. I even had a marriage proposal. But you’re the only one who’s ever had me.”
“Christ, Lake. Give a guy some warning before you say that shit. Someone proposed?”
“I dated a guy from a hit TV show for six weeks, and he tried to whisk me off to Vegas.” I put my hands on his shoulders and lowered my voice. “I’ll tell you a secret. The more famous people get, the weirder they are.”
Manning gripped me under the ass, pulling me onto him until my skirt was around my waist. “I hate that you were around all those fucking weirdos without me.”
“At least I didn’t become one of them.” I smiled. “I don’t think.”
“You scared me earlier when you said you had a meeting about your contract. All day I was thinking you’d be tied to L.A. a few more years or that you’d get stuck in something you didn’t want. But I should’ve known you’d figure it out.” He wrapped his arms around me, holding me tightly to him as he looked me in the eye. “What do you want, Lake? I’ll give it to you.”
“Just to be here,” I said.
“If I proposed, would you say yes?”
Again, it was too much. I pushed at his chest, overwhelmed, but he kept me fastened to him. His heart beat strongly against my palms. Or maybe it was my own heart that was racing, vibrating us both.
“Would you?” he repeated. “I know you have obligations and work and travel and now school, but when it’s time, will you come here and be my wife?”
I couldn’t help that with those words, my mind went to his past. “Did you ever have anything close to this with anyone else?” I whispered.
“Never. You’re my first, Lake. If I had loved a hundred girls before you, you’d still be the first. I don’t know how else to describe it. You make me unafraid to face not just my mistakes, but my childhood home. I don’t know how to be a father after what I’ve lost, after the example I’ve had, but you make me want to try.” He squeezed my ribcage, dropping his forehead to my naked chest. “Because you never stopped loving me, I can forgive myself. I want you to be my wife, but I can wait, and I will, as long as it takes.”
He shifted me on his lap. I could no longer ignore the hardness straining against me, and my stomach tightened. I reached between us to open his belt. “You know it’s only ever been you.”
“Is that a yes?”
“When did you get so impatient?” I pushed his pants down and took him in my hand. “You wouldn’t touch me for six years, and now you can’t wait five minutes for an answer?”
“I’ve waited much longer, Birdy. You know that. A lifetime, it feels like.”
“Whose fault is that?” I licked my palm and closed my hand over his head to stroke the length of him.
He closed his eyes. “You know everything I built, I imagined fucking you in or on. Our bed. This boat. Every surface in the house I made to fit us.” He glanced down, and I watched him as he watched my hand around him. “Put me inside you.”
I lifted up, not bothering to remove my skirt. He pushed my underwear aside, and I took my time sinking onto him. I had to go slow. He filled me inch by inch, the stretch so exquisite that I could only drop my head back and beg the stars for mercy.
But mercy wasn’t theirs to give. Manning took my waist to guide me up and then back down. I removed his hands to see if he’d let me take charge. “Sit back,” I said.
He relaxed against the stern, stretching his arms along the sides. Slowly, feeling every sensation, I made love to him for the first time. He took off his shirt and I leaned on him to swivel my hips faster, my hands looking a doll’s, small and pale against his sprawling, tan torso.
“Fuck, Lake. Let me touch you. This is torture.”
Though I didn’t mind torturing him all that much, I consented. “All right, Great Bear. You can put your paws on me.”
I could’ve sworn he growled as he stood in one swift motion. With my legs wrapped around him, he stepped out of the boat and lay me on a workbench that seemed to be made for us, only wide enough for me and just tall enough for him. The wood’s roughened surface scraped against my back. After Manning’s restraint all these years, I welcomed the desperate way he grabbed my hips, his strangled groans. Mann
ing fucked me like I hadn’t been fucked since New York, a mix of love and anger, adoration and profanity. He bent over me and took my mouth the same way, his fingers between my legs sending me to the moon.
“Tell me what you’re thinking,” he breathed.
I squeezed my arms around his neck as he rubbed my clit faster, with more pressure. “Now?”
His gaze burned. “I have always, from the day I saw you, wanted to know all your thoughts.”
I was exposed underneath him, flayed by his hand so many times over the years. “I think you feel so good . . .” I whisper-panted, “and so right . . . that I . . . can’t . . . stand it.”
I writhed under him as I climaxed. He held me to him with a hand around the back of my neck, breathing into my mouth. I felt the lock and release of his muscles as he came, too, the brokenness of his thrusts, and then the slippery way he filled me.
I ran my fingers through the sides of his hair as he hovered over me, staring while he labored for breath, looking almost pained. “Manning?” I asked, concerned.
“I love you, Lake,” he choked out.
Although it wasn’t the first time he’d said it, it felt that way all over again. I smoothed the droplets of sweat from his hairline, holding his stare. “I know.”
“Thank God. You had me for a minute there.” He kissed my forehead and eased out of me. Rounding the workbench, he sat me up to run a hand over my sensitive back. “You’re all red.”
“I’m perfect,” I said.
He hugged me from behind with one arm and urged my legs open to touch me. “What are you doing?” I asked, fascinated by the gentle way he massaged me.
After a few seconds, I felt a surge of wetness. His fingers came back slick. “You don’t know what this does to me. I could have you again right now just knowing you’re filled with me.”
My heart skipped a beat hearing the possessiveness in his voice. Protect, provide, mate. I hadn’t forgotten. “I feel the same.”
“But I keep forgetting to ask before I do that . . . are you on birth control?”
I relaxed against his back. “This time I am, yes.”
“Figures.” He nipped the shell of my ear. “We’ll have to do something about that.”
I rolled my eyes. “Manning.”
He laughed in my ear. “Too soon?”
I dropped the back of my head against his chest to look at him. “For a baby? I think so.”
He kissed the top of my hair. “It doesn’t have to be now. When we’re ready.”
He said it with such confidence, it was almost as if it were already true. Manning and I would be a family.
“Well, fuck.” He came back around the bench, buckling his belt. “I didn’t plan for all this. I thought I’d bring you here and convince you to give me a second chance. Now we’ve gone and had sex in a boat.”
I smiled, watching as he picked up my bra and clothing. “What was that you said earlier? All paths lead to here.”
He came and stood between my legs, tilting my head up by my chin. “Let’s go inside so I can make love to you properly, over and over until either the bed breaks or we do.”
“I don’t want to break the bed. I love it and plan to sleep in it for many years to come.”
He raised his eyebrows. “So you’re saying . . .” He dug his hand into his pocket, then got down on a knee and showed me the mood ring. Not only had he kept it all these years, but he’d had it in his pocket during our whole conversation. Just like that last morning at camp. “Lake Dolly Kaplan . . .” He took my left hand and slid the ring onto my fourth finger.
“Wait,” I said, incredulous. “I didn’t even answer.”
He laughed. “It’s just temporary, until I can find you the perfect ring.”
I bent over the bench, holding his face. “It is perfect,” I said softly. “Everything you give me is perfect.”
“So is that a yes?”
I sighed happily. “It’s not a no.” I looked him in the eyes, stripping away the playfulness between us so he’d understand I was serious. My great bear, my one true love, the rock I’d clung to in the angry ocean that’d brought us here, the one I feared wasn’t finished with us yet. “I love you.”
“Then come to bed with me.”
“I will. I just need a minute to myself.”
“Whatever you need, Birdy.” He kissed my forehead and took my things inside.
I looked at the ring on my hand as it fell over, top heavy. It was still a little too big, too clunky and inconvenient, just like my love for Manning. It was also a deep purple I’d never seen, and though I didn’t know for sure, I guessed that must be the color of happiness.
My legs swung under the bench as I listened to crickets chirp and frogs burp and owls hoot all around the woods until the shed light shut off again, plunging me into the dark. I wondered how far the lake was, and if Manning and I would spend summer days there, soaking in the sun, and each other, until night fell. Until the black lake water stilled and let the moon shimmer on its glassy surface.
I hopped off the bench and walked back toward the house, stopping where it was darkest—where the stars shone brightest. Wherever Manning went, I’d follow. If he wanted to live amongst the constellations, I’d move with him around an immovable universe, guided by starlight, and when we got separated, fate would light the path back to each other. Because you couldn’t move the stars—Manning and I were inevitable—and as I stood in awe of the infinite night sky, I thanked the heavens for that.
The Beginning
Manning and I have what happily-ever-after is made of . . .
A home he built us on the unshakeable foundation we fought for.
A life of laughter carved out of heartache and betrayal.
A love story to stand the test of time.
But between a trust that can’t be broken, joy that can’t be bridled, and passion that would scorch the sun, the empty spaces are becoming more and more difficult to ignore . . .
Fears that keep Manning up at night as he slips from our bed.
Our complicated relationship with a man he respects and one I don't know how to forgive.
And a sprawling, beautiful home with one small room I'm afraid I'll never be able to fill.
Manning and I have what happily-ever-after is made of . . . But I'll beg the heavens for just one thing more.
Lake + Manning is the final book in the Something in the Way saga.
Blueberry Pie
Winter 2008
1
With oven mitts tucked under one arm and my cell balanced between my ear and shoulder, I stepped over Blue. Every winter since we’d adopted her two years ago, the dog had taken to lying in the middle of the kitchen whenever I baked.
“One sec,” I said into the phone and bent at the hip. I flipped on the oven light and a blueberry pie appeared, crust browning right on schedule. “Perfect.”
“What’s perfect?” Val asked on the other end of the line.
“The pie I’m baking Manning.”
“Good. They say the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.”
Not exactly. After over a week away from Manning, food would be the second thing on his mind. “They need to think a few inches lower.”
“You’re such a wife, and you’re not even married. I bet you’re wearing an apron and everything.”
“I am. It has birds on it.”
“Okay, that’s weird. Birds have nothing to do with cooking,” Val said. “But here’s what you need to do. Once Manning is full of pie and bear meat, or whatever a human his size eats, and he’s half-asleep, ask him why.”
“Why what?”
“The marriage thing.”
I turned off the oven. I should’ve known she’d bring it back up, even though I’d tried to steer her off course. Diversion tactics didn’t work on my best friend when she was onto something. “There’s no marriage thing,” I said, checking over my shoulder to make sure Manning hadn’t snuck up on me. “Can we drop thi
s?”
“You were telling me you weren’t sure why, after four years of cohabitation—”
“One of which I commuted to Los Angeles for work,” I said, “and three of which I’ve lived part-time in Pomona.”
She ignored me. “You were saying you don’t know why Manning hasn’t proposed yet.”
“That’s not what I said.” With a sigh, I removed the pie from the oven and set it on a burner. “I already know why he hasn’t—I told him not to until I was done with school.”
“You said you didn’t want to get married until you were done with school—and you’re graduating next summer. He can still propose.”
I hated to admit Val had a point. What I’d actually started to explain before I’d remembered Val would take anything juicy and run with it, was how Manning used to bug me constantly about getting married . . . but lately, he’d been uncharacteristically quiet on the topic. Between his furniture business and me being gone four days a week for school, marriage had hardly come up at all the last six or so months. I wasn’t wondering why he hadn’t proposed—I wanted to know why he’d given up trying to propose.
Because Manning had ways of getting what he wanted. We’d once spent three weeks arguing over whether I needed snow tread tires for my car. Snow in Big Bear was pretty mild, and when it wasn’t, we took Manning’s truck. Winter tires were expensive.
I’d given in out of exhaustion.
Manning wanted to get married, of that I was certain. He would’ve sealed the deal the warm September day I’d moved in except that I’d made him promise to wait. That, and he wanted the wedding to be special, and right now, neither of us had time for anything more than a quick trip to City Hall. Manning’s business kept him busy around the clock. I went to school two hours away, so I’d rented an apartment where I stayed during the week. Our life had not yet begun.
Something in the Way: A Forbidden Love Saga: The Complete Collection Page 86