Heartwood

by J. H. Croix

  I wasn’t sure if kissing her was a mistake, just as I wasn’t sure if wanting her was wise. With Belle, I wanted more than what we had before—the hottest hookup ever wasn’t enough anymore.

  Yet, I knew she was going through stuff, if stuff could describe what was going on for her. I had actually looked up Bipolar Disorder online the other day. I discovered there were some pretty famous people, who had lives and jobs and kids and families, dealing with it.

  A few leaves on the ground crunched under my feet. It was early fall, and we weren’t quite to the leaf peeping phase and the aftermath when the colors faded and the leaves fell to carpet the ground everywhere. When I saw the small clearing with the lights twinkling in the darkness, I wasn’t surprised to see Belle’s familiar silhouette.

  It felt as if a bell rang in my body, the awareness of her presence echoing. She turned, the light catching on one of the purple streaks in her hair. I rounded the bench, stopping in front of her. “Mind if I sit?”

  Wordlessly, Belle shook her head. Her wide brown eyes tracked me. She looked at me quietly, just long enough that I thought she was going to tell me she did mind me sitting down. But then, her lips curled in a slow smile. “Of course not. It’s a public bench.”

  I sat and angled to face her. “Oh, so that’s why I get to join you? Because it’s a public bench?”

  With nothing more than the glittery lights around us, it was hard to tell if she blushed, but I was pretty sure she did. “I don’t suppose I want to share the bench with a stranger. It’s kind of small.”

  The distance between us was perhaps a foot, if that. “Now that you’ve been here a little longer, how are you liking Speakeasy?”

  “I like it.” She paused, and I heard her swallow. “A lot, actually.”

  When she looked over at me, her expression was a little bashful and uncertain, so different from the way I’d known her before. She still had that bright spark. When I saw her hurrying around the kitchen and laughing with the line cooks—who were all enchanted by her, because she carried a light, easy charm—I saw glimmers of the girl I’d known before.

  “What about you? How long have you even been working here?”

  “I got hired when they were planning the opening. It was a big to-do. Hell, between the Giltmaker Brewery being involved and the Shipley and Rossi families part of it, it was big news in this small town. Plus, they hired Phoebe to handle the opening, so she brought her New York City cachet to the whole thing.”

  “How did it go?”

  “We were slammed. I think my role was far less stressful than Phoebe’s. All I had to do was make sure we had enough alcohol, enough staff and help out at the bar.”

  Belle nodded, and we fell into quiet. She lifted her hand, catching a lock of her hair and spinning it around her fingers. With her legs crossed, her foot bounced lightly. I recalled her being a bundle of energy, almost always in motion, like a hummingbird.

  I smiled at my recollection, and she asked, “What’s funny?”

  “I was remembering how you were always moving fast.”

  She dropped her hand quickly to her lap, lacing her fingers together. Her foot went still. I swiftly realized I didn’t like that she felt uncomfortable around me.

  Because sometimes my mouth got ahead of my brain, I heard myself asking, “Are you nervous?”

  She let out an annoyed huff, twisting her lips to the side when she looked over at me. “Not nervous, exactly. More restless, I suppose.”

  I caught her hand in mine as she moved to stand. “Don’t go.”

  She shifted her hips back on the bench, biting her bottom lip as her eyes searched my face. “I don’t know if it’s a good idea that I kissed you the other night,” she said, her voice a little frayed around the edges.

  My heart gave a funny twist in my chest, followed by a sweet, sharp ache I didn’t recognize. Maybe I hadn’t forgotten Belle, but I hadn’t had illusions about her, or us, before. I’d been focused on my hockey career that died a quick death, and then casting about for what I was going to do while fending off my father.

  Meanwhile, Belle had been a freshman, bursting into college and focused on her grades with a fierce level of determination. She seemed to do everything—taking extra classes, making honors, participating in pre-law organizations, and so on. All the while, she juggled a busy social life. Neither one of us had been focused on anything but good fun with each other. But, fuck me, that fire between us burned hot. It still did.

  It’s just now I wanted to take care of her. A sense of protectiveness simmered under the surface when I was around her. I didn’t like seeing her worried.

  When she spoke, she startled me. “I feel kind of like a hot mess most of the time. You knew me when I had my shit together, so I guess I get a little restless around you.”

  “Does anybody really have their shit together all the time, Belle?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Don’t get all philosophical on me, Ty Connor.”

  “I’m not trying to be philosophical. So, things are different for you. Newsflash, same for me. I thought I might be destined for hockey greatness. Instead, I’m managing a bar and slinging drinks, and I actually kinda like it.”

  She threw her head back. Belle had a throaty, deep laugh, and the sound of it sent a jolt of lust through me. When she brought her eyes to mine again, the uncertainty had been chased away from her eyes. Her gaze sobered. “In all honesty, how was that adjustment?”

  “Look, when you’re playing at a high-level in sports, no matter the sport, of course you want to imagine pro is a real option. Players get that good, usually, because they love it. I fucking loved playing hockey. Still do. I help coach a local league here. It’s fun, and I get to skate. Even if I hadn’t been injured, there were no guarantees. Plus, the glory is short-lived. I’m friends with Dave Beringer. I don’t know if you met him, but he’s married to Zara.”

  She nodded. “I met him when I was there getting coffee.”

  “He had a great career, and he’s pretty comfortable financially. I wouldn’t complain if that were the case for me, but he has a different life these days and he seems more than good with it. Sure, maybe it would’ve been amazing if I went pro, but I didn’t. I’m pretty happy with where I’ve landed. Even if money makes things more comfortable, I have enough. I also know money doesn’t make people happy.”

  Belle was watching me intently, biting her bottom lip the whole time. It was disarmingly distracting because the sight of her teeth denting that plump, pink surface made me want to kiss her. I kicked my brain back onto track. We were having a serious conversation. I didn’t need to be dwelling on kissing fantasies.

  If that didn’t say it all though. With Belle, it was so freaking good, I could kiss her for hours.

  “Money definitely isn’t everything. I put so much pressure on myself with academics that by the time I got to law school, I just couldn’t keep all the balls in the air anymore. That’s not to say pressure is the reason I have Bipolar Disorder, but it didn’t help me at all.”

  I nodded along, because maybe I didn’t understand exactly what she was talking about, but I understood the broad strokes. It reminded me of the situation I was determined to avoid with my father. Because if I were to work for him, hell, we’d probably come to blows, and I didn’t need that kind of misery in my life.

  “So, you landed in a good spot then.”

  She was quiet, her lashes dropping when she looked out toward the river. The ripples on the water had a pearly shimmer from the lights glittering above us. She turned back to me, a smile unfurling slowly on her face. “You’re right,” she said with a firm nod.

  “What?” I prompted.

  “That not everybody keeps their shit together all the time.”

  “It’s not exactly a brilliant point,” I offered dryly.

  “Maybe, but I needed the reminder.”

  She reached out, tapping her fingers lightly on my forearm. It was a playful gesture, and I didn’t think she m
eant for it to be sexual. It’s just that when it came to Belle, my body felt like an engine running on high idle, just waiting for a little pressure on the gas pedal.

  Her touch also elicited a flash of memory, bright and vivid.

  “You did that before.” My words slipped out before I could think to stop them.

  Belle dropped her hand away, and her eyes widened. “What do you mean?”

  “The night I met you. You said you were playing piano on my forearm.”

  There she went with that laugh again, and lust sizzled through me. Again. It was like a tide cresting inside of me.

  “I actually remember that, now that you mention it.” Her smile was bright, and then she went and bit her lip again.

  That did it. All I had to do was lean over. She was right there with her face tilted up toward me. It was so easy. I dipped my head, and my lips came against hers. Seeing as I wasn’t really thinking—hell, I didn’t do a whole lot of that when I was too close to Belle—I couldn’t say what I meant for that kiss to be. But it got real hot, real fast.

  12

  Belle

  The second Ty’s lips met mine, it felt as if a little sizzle of fire passed from him to me, that flame spinning into the liquid need already sliding through my veins. Maybe it wasn’t sensible, maybe it was colossally stupid, but kissing Ty was just the best. It was also a rather glorious kiss.

  I could forget everything but the masterful glide of his tongue against mine and the way his hand slipped around my neck to cup it lightly. He had this way of making me want to take control, but also making me want to surrender. Because, sweet hell, he was a spectacular kisser.

  I remembered hot nights with him, I remembered more than one climax every time, and I remembered completely forgetting myself with him before. Forgetting myself was hard for me to do, even when I was dancing along the edge of my wildness.

  Somehow, I found myself shimmying into his lap. I wanted to blame him, but I was pretty sure it was all my fault. I simply wanted to be closer to all of that delicious muscle. Ty was a big man, tall and rangy, and he had a great lap. I twined my arms around his neck, gasping when I felt the hard, hot length of his arousal under my bottom.

  I couldn’t resist wiggling a little. Ty broke free of our kiss, gulping in a loud breath of air as I took deep, ragged breaths. The cool, crisp autumn air was a balm to the heat racing through me.

  “Fuck, Belle,” he murmured, dropping his forehead to my shoulder.

  I could feel the motion of his lips right over my collarbone, and a tingling sensation skated over my skin from that subtle brush of contact.

  He lifted his head, his eyes catching mine. “Come home with me tonight.”

  A teeny, tiny, and let’s face it, really weak voice inside of me, tried to put up a protest. I wasn’t going to be impulsive anymore, I wasn’t going to do rash, foolish things. But my hormones were much louder than that voice of reason. There was that, and the fact it felt so good to be with him. I could lose myself, and it would be glorious. Because mere kisses were glorious, and I hadn’t forgotten how blazing hot our hookups were before, even if it had been a few years. Really great sex didn’t come along very often. Most women knew that inconvenient fact.

  “Okay,” I whispered.

  “Oh, thank God,” he said, rather fervently.

  “Since when did you become reverent?” I teased.

  He chuckled, and I felt the rumble of it through my entire body. “There’s a place for reverence, especially when it comes to you.”

  He gave me a fast kiss and then stood swiftly, lifting me off his lap and setting my feet on the ground, almost effortlessly. He reached for my hand as we walked along the dark pathway through the trees, and I remembered something else I’d loved about him. He was affectionate, and I’d always felt he was going to make sure I was taken care of. He wasn’t a careless, user kind of guy.

  When we got to the parking lot, my uncertainty slammed into me. I didn’t even know where his truck was parked, or where he lived. Just as that uncertainty threatened to engulf me, Ty’s thumb brushed along the outer edge of my wrist as he murmured, “This way.”

  That’s how easily this man affected me. The subtle brush of his thumb on my wrist and the rumble of his voice sent blazing shivers through me from head to toe. I didn’t want to let go of his hand, and I really, really wanted to lose myself in him.

  A few minutes later, he was driving. Just driving. And yet, my eyes were looking at the way his hand rested on the steering wheel, and the flex of his forearm as he turned down a side road.

  “Where do you live?”

  His eyes flicked sideways to mine, amusement glinting there as his mouth kicked up at one corner. My belly did a quick flip in response.

  “This way,” he teased.

  I rolled my eyes. “I gathered as much.”

  The moon was rising in the sky, illuminating the Green Mountains in the distance. I loved Vermont and the way its rolling hills made you feel like you were cradled within the mountains.

  Ty took another turn. While we were only a few minutes outside of downtown Colebury, the houses were spread apart, and I guessed we were close to the countryside. Maybe not in the farmlands of Tuxbury, but definitely on the way there.

  His truck bounced down a gravel drive, rolling to a stop in front of a barn illuminated by his headlights. “Do you live in a barn?”

  He cut the engine to his truck, glancing over. “I do. But I promise I don’t live in the old stalls.”

  At his slow grin, my belly flipped again. Although uncertainty was still flickering in the back of my thoughts, the funny thing was it felt easy to be with Ty. The fiery chemistry between us burned too hot and reduced my worries to ash.

  Another moment later, we were walking inside through a side door. I stopped in the downstairs, which was wide open without a single wall, just the supporting structural posts. I swept my eyes around, as Ty spoke. “I’m renovating this whole space. Pretty soon this will all be livable.”

  “But where are you sleeping?” I had to ask the obvious question.

  He smiled down at me, his hand reaching for mine again. With a gentle tug, he led me to some stairs at one end of the barn near the corner where we’d entered. “Upstairs.”

  I looked around after we crested the top stair and walked through a door. Following his lead, I shrugged out of my lightweight jacket and hung it on the hooks by the door. The upper floor of the barn had an expansive, airy feel to it. To one side, windows offered a lovely view of the moon over the mountains. Most of the space was open with a kitchen at one end. There was only one door and when my eyes landed on it, Ty commented, “Bathroom.”

  He opened it, and I peered inside to see a clawfoot bathtub on a raised platform with a rainfall showerhead centered above it and a curtain to be pulled around. The floor was tiled with royal blue interspersed with white square tiles.

  “Wow, this is really nice,” I offered.

  “Thanks. I did all the work myself. A family was selling their old farm and divided off part of it. I got the barn and some land. This way they can afford to keep their orchard and upgrade some of the other things they’re working on. The way it’s set up I can’t divide the land any smaller if I ever sell, which is fine because I don’t want to.”

  “Are you going to be a farmer too?” I teased as we walked back toward the kitchen area.

  He shrugged. “I don’t imagine I’ll try to make it a business, but I might enjoy cultivating the apple trees already on the property. I wouldn’t do it for work, more for fun.”

  Before I could respond, Ty was reeling me close and dipping his head to kiss me again, and it was exactly what I wanted. Because kissing him made me forget everything else.

  One of his palms cupped my cheek, his thumb brushing in slow passes over the wild beat of my pulse in my throat. He angled his head to the side, his tongue claiming my mouth. I wanted to just give myself over to him. My hormones were chanting for it.

  I
forgot everything but the feel of his muscled body stepping closer as he deepened our kiss. His other hand slid down my spine in a heated pass, and I let out a shameless gasp into his mouth when his palm slid down over the curve of my bottom, giving it a firm squeeze.

  When he broke away and lifted his head, I instantly felt bereft, needing his mouth back on mine right away. As if he could read my mind, he said, “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ve got you.”

  I shivered all over, goosebumps prickling my skin and my nipples tightening to an ache. I wasn’t all that aware of where we happened to be standing. Hell, I wasn’t aware of much other than Ty and the sweet, decadent escape he offered.

  He turned, catching my hand in his as it dropped away from the warm spot he created on my bottom. In another second, he was lifting me up onto the handy kitchen island. I could feel the cool tile surface through the fabric of my skirt. I was wearing a fitted V-neck T-shirt with a long gauzy skirt that twirled around my leather ankle boots. It rumpled slightly around my hips when it rose up. He stepped in between my knees, immediately catching my mouth in another devouring kiss before I could start thinking.

  Thinking wasn’t on the menu. My brain cells had gone up in smoke, and apparently, I was on Ty’s personal menu. After starting with a breath stealing kiss, his lips blazed a fiery trail along the underside of my jaw before he nipped lightly at my ear lobe. I shivered again, letting out something between a whimper and a giggle.

  Dear God. This man nearly undid me. I wasn’t much of a giggler. I couldn’t remember the last time I felt carefree. Even at the height of my highs, carefree wasn’t the feeling that came with it. It was more of a tension-filled sensation.

  With Ty’s hand sliding around to pull my hips a little closer to the edge of the counter, I sighed when his tongue dragged along my collarbone and one of his hands cupped my breast. Somehow, he had the exact right touch for me. He wasn’t all grabby, but firm and confident. With every touch, sensation stormed through me.