This Time For Keeps (Wickham Falls Weddings Book 6)

by Rochelle Alers

  Fletcher walked into the bedroom where he’d placed Nicole’s overnight bag and set her on her feet. Cradling her face in his hands, he lowered his head and brushed a light kiss over her parted lips. “Don’t run away,” he teased.

  Rising on tiptoe, Nicole curved her arms around his neck and pulled his head down. “Never,” she whispered before taking his mouth in a passionate kiss that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

  Fletcher knew if she did not stop kissing him, he would take her where they stood. And making love to her without a condom was something neither of them wanted or was ready for given the consequences of an unplanned pregnancy. If or when Nicole carried their child, he wanted her to be Mrs. J. Fletcher Austen.

  He forcibly removed her arms, holding her wrists firmly against her body. He met her eyes in the light coming from the lamps on the bedside tables. They were dark, her gaze steady and trusting. “Not yet, darling.”

  Nicole angled her head and smiled. “Hurry back.”

  Fletcher nodded. “I will.” He released her wrists, turned on his heel and walked stiffly out of the bedroom. The pulsing of his erection was painful and pleasurable at the same time. It was the second time Nicole had aroused him so much that he feared losing complete control, something he hadn’t done since the onset of puberty.

  He took the rear staircase and opened the door leading out to the patio. It took him less than fifteen minutes to extinguish all the candles and the torches and to douse the embers in the firepit. Flipping several wall switches, he turned off the lights in the trees and around the perimeter of the house, and the stereo system. Othello had come out of the house, and Fletcher patted his head. The canine had become his constant companion.

  “It’s time to go inside for the night. Tomorrow we’ll play catch together.” The instant the words were out, he realized he was doing what he’d teased Nicole about: he was talking to a dog. Othello trotted inside and settled down on his bed, which Fletcher had positioned between the alcove with the office and pantry.

  He tapped a button, arming the security system, then turned off all the lights on the first story and climbed the staircase to the upper level. Light from under outlets throughout the house provided enough illumination for one to walk around without bumping into objects. He’d installed the LED dusk-to-dawn night-light sensors after he’d nearly broken a toe bumping into the leg of the hallway table.

  Fletcher detected the scent of Nicole’s bodywash as soon as he walked into his bedroom, smiling when he saw the outline of her body under the blanket. She was facing the far wall and he didn’t know whether she was awake or asleep. He managed to make it to the bathroom without disturbing her, and he showered and brushed his teeth. She’d left a colorful quilted cosmetic bag on one of the shelves in the bathroom.

  Soft snoring greeted him when he returned to the bedroom and slipped into bed next to Nicole. She had come to bed completely nude and the silken feel of her skin sent shock waves through his body. Resting his arm over her waist, he pulled her closer to him, her hips pressed to his groin. She stirred slightly but did not wake up.

  Chapter Twelve

  Nicole felt the heat and then the crush of an immovable object against her back. She opened her eyes and saw slivers of light coming through shuttered windows. She didn’t want to believe she’d spent the night in Fletcher’s bed and had fallen asleep without their making love.

  “Good morning, Sleeping Beauty.”

  She felt Fletcher’s moist breath on the nape of her neck. “Don’t you mean Rip van Winkle?”

  “Nah, beautiful. If you were Rip van Winkle, then we’d have to wait another twenty years to sleep together, and by then I just might be too old to chase you around the bedroom.”

  Nicole shifted slightly and attempted to turn over to face him, but couldn’t move Fletcher’s arm resting on her waist. She wanted to remind Fletcher that he was projecting, or maybe it was wishful thinking on his part. He was talking about twenty years from now, while she wasn’t certain the path her life would take within the next twenty months. Her former employer had extended an olive branch and was open to rehiring her. While she loathed returning, she still had to consider Preston’s offer to make her a junior partner.

  “You may have more trouble at fifty-five, but I’m sure you’ll do okay when it comes to a footrace.” She attempted to move again. “You’re going to have to let me go, Fletcher, because I need to use the bathroom.” The last word was barely off her tongue when he swept her off the bed, threw her over his shoulder and headed for the adjoining bath. He set her on her feet and disappeared behind a partition for the urinal, but not before she’d caught a glimpse of his lean, muscled body in all its magnificent nakedness.

  Nicole did not want to believe she was sharing a bathroom with Fletcher while attempting to complete her morning ablutions. Wrapping a bath sheet around her body, she managed to relieve herself in record time. She was standing at the twin vanity, squeezing toothpaste onto her brush when Fletcher joined her. Unlike her, he hadn’t covered himself.

  “I didn’t expect you to go caveman on me,” she said, meeting his eyes in the reflection of the mirror.

  Fletcher winked as he put paste on his own brush. “I didn’t want you to have an accident.”

  “I never have accidents.” He nodded, smiling as they both brushed their teeth. Nicole deliberately stared at her reflection rather than at Fletcher’s. Did he not know of his effect on her standing less than three feet away, completely naked and semi-aroused? And why did she feel as if sharing the bathroom was a normal occurrence for them?

  “Am I embarrassing you?”

  “Why should I be embarrassed?” she asked, answering his question with one of her own.

  “You keep averting your eyes.”

  Reaching for a paper cup from the wall dispenser, Nicole filled it with water and rinsed her mouth. “I don’t want you think I’m a Peeping Thomasina.”

  “You don’t have to concern yourself about that, Nikki. I have nothing to hide from you.”

  She washed her face then blotted it on a paper towel before discarding it in a gray wicker wastebasket. “So, I see,” Nicole mumbled under her breath as she applied a light cover of moisturizer to her face and neck.

  Fletcher gave her a sidelong glance. “I’m going to let Othello out and then make some coffee. We can drink it in bed if you want.”

  Nicole smiled. “That sounds like a plan.” She adjusted the bath sheet over her breasts and left the bathroom. We’re like an old married couple. The thought just popped into her head. It had taken her a while to allow a man to come into the bathroom while she’d been there. It was not because of vanity, but for the need for complete discretion to do whatever she needed to do.

  However, it was different with Fletcher. Her comfort level with him was astounding, which in and of itself made him very, very special. Perhaps it also had something to do with her trusting him not to do anything she didn’t want him to do. It was obvious that he wanted to make love to her, and she to him, but she felt no urgency for them to engage in the act.

  Nicole pulled the nightgown she’d left on the bedroom chair the night before over her head. The white cotton garment with pale blue flowers and spaghetti straps ended at her knees. Walking over to the window, she opened the shutters and rays of brilliant sunlight flooded the room.

  The landscape unfolding before her eyes was breathtaking. The tops of the mountains were shrouded in a blue haze and she could see the water spilling over the twin waterfalls that gave the town its name. Nicole had always thought of her home state as untamed and majestic. The mountainous terrain, the deep gorges and waterfalls, the natural forests that had become a hunter’s nirvana for hunting deer, and the many rivers and streams where fishermen caught small-and largemouth bass, channel catfish and walleye. Then there were the numerous streams, brooks and lakes where children learned t
o swim rather than in an indoor pool.

  She’d told Fletcher that she had become so accustomed to the pulsing energy of her adopted city that she could not envision ever living in a place like Wickham Falls again. When, she mused, had she become so close-minded that it was all or nothing?

  Nicole had returned to The Falls for the first time to check on Reggie in March, and then returned again in May to coincide with the end of the school year. It was almost October and it was only now that she realized she’d come home. She still slept in the bedroom where she’d grown up, and the memories of coming home to find her grandmother baking cookies were revived when she baked cookies for her nephews.

  She loved Fletcher and had fallen in love with him, but knew that wasn’t enough for her to commit to a future with him. At least not yet. There were other factors to consider. Nicole had moved to Florida to be closer to her aging parents. They were still in good health and independent, but she knew there could come a time when she would have to assume the responsibility of perhaps becoming a caregiver for her mother, father or both. It was different with Fletcher because he lived close to his parents. He’d even bought a house in Wickham Falls because he was slated to take over the family business.

  Moving away from the window, she pulled back the covers on the bed, smoothed out the sheet and blankets. After plumping up the pillows, she placed them against the quilted headboard and turned down the duvet.

  “You didn’t have to do that.”

  She turned around at the sound of Fletcher’s voice and saw him standing in the doorway holding a cup of steaming coffee in each hand. He’d pulled on a pair of shorts, but had left his chest bare. She thought him incredibly handsome and masculine with the stubble on his lean jaw. “I don’t like getting back into an unmade bed.”

  He smiled and a fine network of lines fanned out around his laughing eyes. “I’ll remember that in the future.”

  Nicole got into bed and took the mug he handed to her. “That smells wonderful.”

  Fletcher slipped in beside her. “There’s nothing better than the smell of brewing coffee and broiling bacon in the morning.”

  She touched her mug to his and took a sip. “You’re so right about that.”

  “What do you want for breakfast?” he asked.

  “Nothing right now. The coffee is good.”

  Fletcher rested his head against the stack of pillows under his back and shoulders. “When I let Othello out, he took off like a shot after a rabbit.”

  Nicole let out a gasp. “I hope he didn’t catch it.”

  “I don’t think so because he came back right away without anything in his mouth.”

  “Where is he now?”

  “I left him on the patio with a bowl of water. He seems very content to lie in the sun.”

  “Keith’s going to be shocked to find that his canine warrior is just a big pussy cat.”

  Fletcher crossed his feet at the ankles, bringing her eyes to linger on the scars on his right leg. “Do the scars turn you off?” he asked.

  Nicole shook her head. It was obvious he’d caught her staring. “Of course not. Why would you think that?”

  “Because it’s the first time you’ve seen them.”

  She moved closer and kissed his shoulder. “And it definitely won’t be the last, because I intend to sleep with my man every chance I get.”

  “Am I really your man, Nicole?”

  “Of course, you are. If you weren’t, I wouldn’t be in bed with you.” Fletcher had no idea how many overtures she’d had from men who’d felt she was obligated to sleep with them because she’d agreed to share dinner or a drink, while believing she would become their dessert.

  Fletcher took the mug from her hand and set it beside his on the table and then he cradled her face in his hands and kissed her. Nicole did not remember when he’d deepened the kiss or when her arms went around his strong neck. She could not recall when he’d divested her of the nightgown or when he’d shed his shorts. What she did remember was the feathery kisses on her face before they moved lower to the pulse in her throat and then even lower to her breasts and belly. She was helpless to stop the groans of frustration when she wanted Fletcher to stop kissing her and assuage the pulsing between her thighs.

  * * *

  Fletcher reached into the drawer on the night table and removed a condom. He’d wanted to go slow and engage in a lengthy foreplay before penetrating Nicole but knew that wasn’t going to happen after he’d waited half his life to claim the girl who had ensnared him in a web of longing that had waned and was then revived once he’d come face-to-face with her again. He didn’t know what it was about Nicole that had him lusting after her like a man deprived of food for long periods of time.

  He slipped the condom over his erection and, moving over Nicole, he parted her thighs with his knee and slowly, gently, eased his hardness into her tight, moist flesh. She let out a gasp, then a moan once he fully sheathed himself inside her. His world stood still, then spun on its axis when her legs went around his waist, allowing him deeper penetration. All Fletcher could think of was that the wait was more than worth it. All the women he’d known were now nameless and faceless, and his past, because the woman writhing under him was everything he wanted and needed.

  Fletcher struggled not to ejaculate. The runaway pumping of Nicole’s heart against his chest, the contractions squeezing his erect penis and the soft moans near his ears when he buried his face in the pillow cradling her head, told him she was close to climaxing.

  “Let it go, baby,” he groaned. “Please.”

  He didn’t have to wait long when he felt her orgasms overlap one another at the same time he released his dammed-up passion. Fletcher loved Nicole more than he could have imagined loving someone.

  “I love you,” he whispered over and over until it became a litany.

  Cradling his face between her palms, Nicole kissed his mouth and the end of his nose. “I love you, too.”

  A lump settled in Fletcher’s throat as he struggled to swallow. They loved each other, but to what end? He’d proposed marriage, promised to protect Nicole, but he suspected there was something else in her life that wouldn’t permit her to share it with him. He’d waited a long time for this moment—to make love with her—but wondered how much longer he would have to wait for her to decide whether she would move back to Wickham Falls permanently.

  In that instant Fletcher made himself a promise. He would wait for her brother to complete his treatment and come back to The Falls. If Nicole decided to return to Florida, then Fletcher knew it was over between them.

  He reversed positions, her legs sandwiched between his outstretched ones. “Are you ready to eat now?”

  Nicole rested her chin on his chest and smiled up at him. “Soon.” Reaching up, she traced the outline of a colorful tattoo on the underside of his left arm. “When did you get this one?”

  Fletcher peered at what she’d pointed to. “That was to celebrate becoming Special Forces.” One by one, he identified each of the tattoos and when he’d gotten them.

  “Do you plan to get another one?”

  He shook his head. “No. I have enough. You’re next.”

  Nicole held up her right arm stamped with USMC in small black letters. “I’m done. Everyone told me once you get one, you’ll want another, but I proved them wrong.”

  Fletcher found himself opening up to Nicole about his experiences during a couple of his deployments. He found it odd that she was content to listen and not contribute to the conversation. After a while he realized she’d fallen asleep. Easing her down to the mattress, he pulled the sheet up over her body and minutes later joined her in a sated sleep for lovers.

  * * *

  Nicole felt her heart stop and start up again when she saw the name and number appear on her cell phone screen. She answered the call after the second ring. The only tim
e Keith’s sister called her was when he experienced a meltdown.

  “Hello, Rachel.”

  “Hi, Nicole. Keith’s good, but it’s my kids I’m calling about. They both have strep throat, along with a bunch of other kids in their school, so I’m calling everyone and telling them to stay away. Keith’s disappointed that he won’t get to see you, but I told him we’ll get together at another time.”

  “How’s he doing?”

  “He’s been seeing our next-door neighbor and they appear to be quite serious.”

  Nicole pumped her fist. “Good for him.”

  “I think it’s good for both of them. She’s a single mother with a four-year-old daughter who adores my brother. I wouldn’t be surprised if he asked her to marry him.”

  Nicole smiled although Rachel couldn’t see her. “That’s really serious.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  Nicole had been looking forward to seeing Keith again, but the mere mention of strep throat was enough to keep her away. She chatted with Rachel for a few more minutes and then ended the call. Leaning back in her chair, she stared at the framed prints on the opposite wall in the office. This was her weekend to have Luke and Daniel and they’d been excited when she’d told them they were going on a road trip.

  Picking up the phone, she tapped Fletcher’s number. It rang five times before going to voice mail. “This weekend’s plans are canceled. Call me back and I’ll fill you in.”

  She and Fletcher jealously shielded their time together by staying at home whenever Daniel and Luke spent the weekend with their grandparents. They were content to sleep in late, cook and eat together, listen and dance to music and make endless love. It was uncanny that she found them to be so compatible and she knew, however long they would be involved, their relationship was one she would never forget.