Inside Out

by Lauren Dane

  Elise raised her glass, Adrian and Ella doing the same. “To really good. Also, dude, we’ve gone over this; it’s not just you.”

  That was something Ella could wholeheartedly endorse.

  Todd won, and Elise went over to take Ben’s place. Erin managed to con Adrian into letting her play another round in his place. Todd only rolled his eyes, standing behind Erin, his hands on her belly.

  Cope slid in beside her, closer than he had to, not that she was complaining.

  “Hey there.”

  “Hi. Sorry you didn’t win.”

  “Not a chance with Todd playing. He’s good. The only person nearly as good is Erin. Anyway, I’d rather be right here.”

  She poured him a beer, sliding it and a plate his way. “Plenty of pizza left. I saved you three slices of the everything.”

  “You’re pretty perfect. Thanks.” He dug in, totally satisfied with his life at that moment.

  “You’re welcome.” She wore her joy on her skin, in her features, making the smile she gave him utterly infectious. Fuck, he was happy to be there with her. It did something to him, to watch her there with his friends, with those people he loved, and to know she felt the same about them. To a guy like him, a guy who put a lot of importance on connection to family and community, that she did too was simply a sign of how perfect she was for him.

  “Are you free next weekend?” He needed to get that established right off. She wasn’t just some woman he dated, they had more, and he wanted everyone to understand that. Especially Ella. The challenge would be to let her see his intentions without making her feel hemmed in or controlled.

  “Sure. Wait.” She eyed him carefully. “For what? My answer depends on yours. Ice camping? I’m busy. Other things that won’t get me killed or give me frostbite? I’m available.”

  He laughed. “I was thinking of going to the ocean. No hiking or anything. One of my friends owns a house out there and offered it to me for the weekend. If it wasn’t so damned cold already, I’d suggest a trip out on the bike. But we can save that until the spring since we know how you feel about ice camping.”

  She looked at him seriously without speaking, and he got nervous. “I mean, obviously he’s got more than one bedroom. It’s not . . . that’s up to you. God, I’m fucking this up.” He actually fumbled; he never fumbled. Good god.

  Laughing, she hugged him briefly. “Yes, I’m free.” She leaned a little closer. “It sounds like fun.”

  Her voice rose in a delightfully squeaky way at the end.

  “All right. We can leave Friday night and get back Sunday after breakfast? Does that work?”

  She nodded slowly, and he went back to his pizza.

  The group hung on for another two hours until Cope was just about ready to text his brother to get the hell out of there so he could leave with Ella. Finally Erin stood and stretched her back.

  “I gotta call it a night, boys and girls.”

  Everyone got up and tossed money down, put coats and hats on and headed toward the sidewalk just out front.

  “You ready to go?” Cope said it quietly, his lips close to her ear. “Care to come back to my house for a while? I’ve got some ice cream to go with the cake you have left over.”

  “Mmm, cake.” She actually giggled, and his cock hardened. What the hell else was she going to do that would turn him on so unintentionally? “Your house? Or the condo? I mean, yes to either. But I’d love to see the house.”

  He smiled at how easily flustered she got. “My house. I’ve finished enough that I’ve decided to live there. At least on the weekends. It’s got a well-stocked fridge, my couch and electronics in the bedroom.” And a bed. He shivered a moment at the thought of her in it, at the very real tension between them that could lead them there. But he didn’t want to rush her.

  “Are you cold?” She angled her head to see his face.

  “Nope. I’m ...” He broke off to return Brody and Elise’s good-byes.

  “I expect to hear every last filthy detail,” Elise whispered to Ella, though not quietly enough.

  Ella’s laugh resurrected the shiver.

  “Have her home by midnight, son,” Ben called to him.

  “Ha. Take care of your pregnant wife. Ella is in good hands.”

  There was much hooting and laughter at that. Ella waved at them all with both hands. “Moving right along. Jeez. See you all later. Don’t forget about me now that I’m not going to be pulling your coffee every day.”

  “Oh my silly, sweet Ella.” Erin hugged her. “This is what we do. Every Friday night we come here, eat pizza, drink some beer or water, and we play pool while we catch up. Every. Friday. You are one of us, and you will have more time to do such things now that you have no more school and only one job. So there. There’s no forgetting, dumb ass.”

  “We’re like the Mafia. Once you’re in, you’re in for life.” Cope hugged her to him. As if he had any intention of not seeing her every chance he got. Pfft.

  “See you all next week. Erin, get some sleep!” Ella let him open her door before she turned to him, her breath white in the air. “Take me wherever you want me to go.”

  His heart stuttered as they stood there in the cold; snow fell but melted before it hit the ground.

  “All right. Do you trust me?”

  Again that slow, measured nod.

  “Good.”

  11

  Her heart beat so fast it would have been easy to blame her breathless state on that. But she knew that was a lie. It was him. One hundred percent the way Andrew Copeland waltzed his way right into her body and played her like an instrument.

  Other than those few delicious kisses, he hadn’t even touched her yet, but she found herself so turned on that even shifting in her seat was enough to send a ripple of pleasure through her from her pussy outward. They drove toward Ballard with an easy silence. Tom Waits whispered and howled quietly over the speakers.

  “I had a good time tonight.”

  She winced inwardly at how lame that must have sounded. Instead, he reached and took her hand, squeezing it gently. “Me too, Red.” He took a right onto a cul-de-sac. “Ah, here we are.”

  She looked down the street and knew without having to be told which house was his. He pulled into the narrow driveway, and she tried not to gape.

  He must have spent a lot of time on this house. The others on the street were of like architecture, but his had been lovingly restored to its faux Northwest Tudor-type beauty. “I love the brick. You did some major restoration out there, didn’t you?”

  He turned and smiled. “Yeah. I do too. I worked out a barter, partially anyway, with a friend who knew how to be sure the brick met code and all that stuff.” He hopped out and ran to her side to get her door. He seemed to like doing it and it didn’t bother her one way or the other so why not?

  “Come on in. It’s going to be cold. At least the part I’m not living in yet. Have faith, Ella Tipton. I will build a fire and get us nice and cozy.”

  She smiled and let him help her out.

  “I have a great deal of faith in you, Andrew. Show me the outside too. I can’t see it all really well now, but I still want to see.”

  His smile was altogether new, something she hadn’t seen from him yet. Pride, yes, but something more. She knew she liked it and wanted to see it again, knew without a doubt it was something he showed few.

  The backyard was partially done from what she could see by muted moonlight and the back porch light.

  “I’d like to put a water feature out there. Some benches. The trees provide great shade, and it’s really a nice place to sit in the evenings. Brody and I put a small pond and rock waterfall in at Elise’s parents’ place a few months ago. It kicked my ass, but now I know how to do it.”

  “I like it out here. Lots of trees. A water feature would be lovely out there, especially if you had comfortable benches or a glider swing or something. Are you going to do some outdoor lighting too?” Her teeth chattered, and he laughed,
putting an arm around her and sweeping her up to the back door.

  He had two locks and, as she discovered when they got inside, a good security system. It didn’t surprise her; the man did this for a living and all. But she relaxed more.

  “Do you want some tea? I have some good whiskey to go in it. That’ll warm you up.” He grinned.

  “I’ll make us hot chocolate if you have the fixings. But only after I get the tour of the inside.”

  “You don’t have to.” He lost his confident stance, just for a moment, recovering quickly, but not so fast a girl with the same problem couldn’t catch it.

  She took his hand. “I know I don’t. But I want to. You created this with your hands and labor. It’s special. I want to see it.”

  He blushed. That touched her enough to tip more than halfway into love with Andrew Copeland. The man, she suspected, didn’t show all of himself to many. So when he opened that part of himself to her, it shook her to her core. Cocky was charming and sexy, but it wasn’t devastating. Humble, pleased by compliments on his work, the kind of man who read poetry and created the beauty she stood in right then, well, that was another thing entirely, and she had no defenses against that.

  He led her through the parts of the house he’d finished, avoiding the bedroom for the moment. She asked questions that showed him she was truly interested and not just entertaining him.

  That she found something he’d loved doing so much so beautiful turned him inside out. Exposed.

  “I love it. The attention to the detail and design really takes it to a whole different level.” She walked around, looking closely. “Did you study design at school?”

  “Thank you” seemed sort of small for the way her praise made him feel. So he smiled at her and nodded. “Thank you. I think so, and I’m pretty glad you do too. No, I didn’t study it, but I’m wildly flattered you’d think so. I just love carpentry and building. I like working with my hands.”

  “You’re very gifted.” She bent and peered closely, sliding her fingertips over the curve at the base. “Did you do this banister yourself?”

  He had to swallow hard at the sight, at the graceful way she caressed something he’d made, the way it was so obvious she appreciated the beauty of it.

  “Yeah. Though I’m still working on the other side. You like?”

  She turned to him, her attention focused on his face as intently as she’d focused on his work. “I’m astonished, Andrew. This is”—she shook her head—“this is incredible. I can’t believe you did all this. I had no idea how talented you are.”

  Warmth hung in his belly, in his chest.

  “Thanks.” He ducked his head again, the heat of a blush on his cheeks. “How about that hot chocolate?”

  “Coming right up.”

  She made it, seemingly at ease in his kitchen, which only made him want her more.

  “I like this house a lot.” She stood, stirring the saucepan of hot chocolate as he rustled up plates and mugs.

  “I do too. It’s been a long time, but I feel really good about where I’m going with it.”

  “I can’t believe I had no idea you were doing this.” She filled the mugs, and he hummed his pleasure at the rising scent of cinnamon.

  “Well, it’s just a little project.” He shrugged. “The living room is still sort of a mess. I’m mainly in the bedroom, where I’ve got a couch and the television. And a fireplace. Interested?”

  She nodded, and they carried their loot upstairs, and he led her through the big French doors.

  “Holy crap.” She halted, looking around the space. “This is, well, wow, Cope, this is magnificent. I keep saying ‘wow,’ which is more about me just being totally overwhelmed by how much you’ve done and how beautiful this all is. I’m very impressed.”

  He indicated she put the mugs down on the table near the couch before he turned and bent to build the fire. It felt strange, her seeing such an intimate part of him and appreciating it. Good. He realized he’d half expected her to not get it or to wave away how much work he’d done. Shyness, something he hadn’t felt in a very long time, settled into his system as he built the fire.

  He came back and settled with her on the overstuffed couch. The fire began to crackle and pop. He’d gone with natural gas fireplaces downstairs, but he wanted the real thing in his bedroom. Seeing the way the color of the flames lit her skin, he knew he’d made the right choice.

  He’d never had anyone up in his room. Not since he had the furniture moved in. It seemed fitting it would be her, then, to be the one sitting there with him, filling his senses with a thousand different zings of chemistry.

  “Thank you, again. Really.”

  She sipped her cocoa and looked at him over the rim of the mug. “You should be really proud of yourself. This is a major undertaking. Lots of skill here. And time, I imagine. How do you get it all done around your day job and training friends how to fight off attackers and flirting with women at the pub?” The smile she quirked up allayed any ideas of her jealousy.

  “I like to work here on weekends and at nights. At first it was a big job, so all I could see was how I had to do X, Y, Z before I could move on. After a time I realized part of living here was making the physical changes to make this house truly my home. I do what I can when I can, and I don’t resent it when I have other things to finish up.” He shrugged.

  “That’s a very good way to look at it. It’s quite an accomplishment to have done all this. What does your family think?”

  “Oh well, they don’t really; we don’t talk about it much.”

  She leaned forward, putting her mug down and turned to him more fully. He liked the way she firmly gave him her full attention. It was rare to see in most people who generally only half listened while they texted or thought about television or whatever.

  “Why is that? I’d imagine Ben would be over here helping you with stuff all the time.”

  “He’s got a baby on the way. They’ve all got stuff going on. It’s just a house. Erin, Ben and Todd did a huge remodel not so long ago.”

  She wore a sour look for a moment. “Erin hired people to do the renovation. Which is great, but not what you’re doing at all.” She motioned around the room. “This is all you.”

  She pushed every single button he had. Disoriented, he shoved a hand through his hair, moving it back from his face. He was Cope, the easygoing lady-killer, and here he was, sniffing after a woman who already had immense power to pull emotions from him in the most unexpected ways. Mainly because she saw he was more than Cope, the easygoing lady-killer.

  “I need a haircut,” he mumbled, feeling suddenly totally out of his depth. Did he even have any depth? Was he just a fraud?

  She put a hand over his, sifting through his hair herself, her fingers sure and firm against his scalp, bringing a groan of pleasure from him.

  “No. I like it.” The statement was shy, but she meant it. He tipped his chin to see her face, as always, struck by how it appealed to him so deeply. “I mean,” she said, licking her lips, “if you don’t have to cut it for work or anything. It’s just, it suits you.”

  “You do something to me, Ella,” he said, moving toward her slowly, not wanting to spook her but needing to kiss her.

  “Glad to know I’m not alone,” she said, her lips moving against his just as he made contact.

  Her taste wended through him, opening doors he’d welded shut, some he hadn’t even known existed. Like a key.

  Forcing himself to take his time, he moved enough to slowly unwind the scarf she wore around her neck loosely so he could put his lips there. When he did, when he finally pressed his mouth, slightly open, to the pale expanse of skin just behind her jaw, she took in air, letting it out as a soft sigh.

  She was warm there, and, as he’d hoped, sensitive. She tilted her head back to give him more access, her fingers gripped in the material of his sweater.

  Slowly, drunk with her taste, his lips slid over the hollow of her throat, and she stuttered a
breath. It wasn’t until he licked over the freckles just below her collarbone that she uttered his name, softly, raggedly.

  It was enough to challenge his control, enough to rip his defenses to shreds. Not enough; everything.

  She arched, changing their balance, and he went with it, landing on top of her, the long, wiry length of her body beneath him, her breasts pressed to his chest.

  Her eyes, which had been closed, slowly opened and focused. With her watching, he bent to lick over the exposed curve of her left breast and then the right. He’d meant to tease her, but got caught in his own trap because he could do nothing but bow his head over her and breathe in before sliding his hands up her sides. In another breath, her breasts were in his palms, and they both groaned.

  Cope had to lever up a bit, nipping her bottom lip before turning his attention back to her breasts. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to touch your breasts.”

  “Glad you finally got to it,” she said, her voice squeaking. Her grip tightened as he slid his thumbs back and forth over her nipples.

  “How are we doing?” he asked.

  She yanked at his sweater. “Huh? Shirt off. Please, Andrew, I want to see you.”

  Well then, that was a good answer. He moved to kneel above her, her eyes roving over his body as he pulled the sweater over his head and tossed it somewhere behind them.

  “Oh.” She sat, taking in the upper body she’d remembered from some backyard party two summers ago. It was better than she’d remembered. Forgetting her hesitation, she had to touch. Hard, acres of muscles, olive-toned skin, tattoos and . . . “You got a new piercing.”

  Until she came to work at the café and saw Brody and his crowd of friends, she’d never considered piercings or tattoos to be sexy. But over time she’d changed her mind. She’d met and looked at a lot of really hot bad boys with ink, and by that point, she found it incredibly sexy.

  Something about the barbell in each of his nipples made her mouth water. It was hot. Hot, hot, hot, and he wore them with such confidence it only made him more attractive.