by Noelle Adams
He was in a groggy, sated condition, tangled up with Liz under the covers, and she must have felt similarly because she was awake but hadn’t kicked him out of her bed yet.
“I think it’s really morning now,” she said after a while. She’d turned over onto her other side so he was spooning her from behind.
“I’ll get going as soon as I can move.”
“Okay.” She sighed deeply as he idly stroked her belly.
He was looking around the room at all her pretty possessions. Clothes, accessories, artwork, flowers, and so many kinds of wooden boxes. The room looked like her. Rich and vibrant and full of character and lovely and deliciously warm. “You sure do have a lot of boxes.”
She giggled and swatted at his hand. “I told you I love them. I might have a small problem with being unable to stop buying them. There’s a bunch more in the closet.”
He chuckled. “If I gave you a shoe box, would you treasure that one too?”
“Of course not. The boxes have to be wooden, and they have to be painted. Don’t ask me why. I don’t make the rules.”
“Which one is your favorite?”
She thought for a minute in silence. “My favorite is one I don’t even own.”
“Really? Who does?”
“This old fellow in town. Howard Edwards. He’s about ninety years old, and he has all kinds of amazing antiques. He’s got this hundred-year-old tabletop chest with the most amazing watercolors of birds and butterflies on the top. I remember seeing it as a girl, when my dad was visiting him, and thinking it was the most amazing thing that had ever been created. I still go by to see it sometimes.”
“Why don’t you ask him if you could buy it?”
“I’ve asked him before, but he won’t give it up. He keeps saying he’ll sell his best antiques before he dies so his distant relatives won’t fight over them. When he does, I don’t care how much money he wants for it, I’m going to buy that chest. Em said she’d lend me the money since there’s no way my family could afford it. But I have to have it. I love it so much.”
He squeezed her in his arms, not sure what to say because his heart felt so full. That knot was still there in his stomach, but it didn’t feel so uncomfortable right now. It kind of matched the weight in his chest. Like he was full.
Like she was filling him.
“Maybe you’ll get it someday,” he said at last.
“I hope so. I’ll be heartbroken if I don’t.” She seemed to realize how earnest she was being because she turned over with a teasing smile. “Now. You’ve lounged around being lazy long enough. You need to get out of here and back to your place before anyone wakes up and finds you here.”
Her words were light, but they were a real dismissal. He could hardly blame her. He was the one who had invited himself over last night, and he was the one who’d refused to leave when he should have.
Now was the time.
Liz wasn’t his girlfriend.
They were just having a casual fling.
And it wasn’t her fault that he was starting to wonder whether things would be better if they weren’t so casual.
Maybe being serious, going deep, wasn’t as impossible as he’d always believed.
Eight
TWO WEEKS LATER, VINCE was working at the computer in the office of his mother’s store with a deep sense of accomplishment. It had been a long, tedious process, but he’d just about finished getting the accounts ready for taxes.
He was praying they didn’t get audited for any of the previous years. He was sure his parents had paid far more in taxes than they needed to—they were the kind of people who threw money at a process so they wouldn’t have to go through a lot of hassle—but he shuddered at getting the paperwork ready for an audit process.
But last year’s was in good shape now, and he’d set up a better system so the tax process in future years would go a lot smoother.
Once that was done, he’d have a lot more time on his hands. He could work more on the acquisition process and study up more on antiques and collectibles.
It was different than what he was used to, but it was kind of fun. And it was nice not to be tied to a desk and computer the way he’d been at his job before.
As surprising as it was to admit, he wasn’t missing his life back in Blacksburg much at all.
At all.
“How’s it going?” his mother asked as she came into the office with her hands full of clothes.
“Good. I’ve almost got this done. I’ll go over it with you when you have time.”
“Oh my goodness, no, sweetie. You know about all that money stuff. I don’t.”
“But don’t you want to know—”
“You could explain it to me ten times, and I still wouldn’t understand any of it. I trust you, and I never pay attention to all the money stuff.”
“Okay. Whatever you prefer. But you might need to cool it a bit with the purchases. They’ve been getting kind of high in the past few months.”
His mother frowned with a characteristically absentminded look. “Really? I didn’t know that.”
“I just noticed the credit cards were higher than they used to be.” He’d assumed that his dad had reined in his mom’s impulses before he died since the purchases had increased significantly in the past three months. “It’s no big deal. But we don’t want to spend all our profits.”
“Of course we don’t. I’ll be good. I promise. But I did make some major purchases this week. I’ve been trying to get Mr. Edwards to sell his best pieces for years now, and he finally agreed. But we’ll be able to turn them around right away. I’ve already got some buyers interested. So I don’t think you’ll have to lecture me about them.”
“I’m sure that’s fine then.”
“You won’t mind taking Fred and Will to go pick up the pieces tomorrow, will you? I want to close the deal before he changes his mind.”
“That’s no problem at all. What are you doing with all those clothes?”
“Oh. They need to be retagged.”
“I thought Riot was supposed to do that.”
“She was, but she got busy.”
“Busy doing what? Playing on her phone?” He shook his head, trying to hold back his first instinct, which was to demand why Riot was still employed. “Don’t go and do that for her. When she comes in again, make sure she does it. She needs to do the things you ask her to if she’s going to work for us.”
“Your dad always handled the management stuff. Can’t you do it?”
Vince felt awkward about supervising Riot, given his relationship with Liz, but he could hardly use that as an excuse because neither his mother nor Riot knew about it.
No one was supposed to know about it.
That fact was starting to grate on him.
“Sure, I’ll do it if you need me to, but I think we both need to work together, or she’ll try to bypass me by going to you.”
“Okay. You’re right. I’ll be tougher. I promise.”
“Good.” Vince was silently thinking that, if Riot was made to do a real day’s work when she came in, she would get tired of the job and quit to do something easier.
He could hope anyway.
His mom walked over to put a hand on his shoulder. “It’s good to see you like this.”
He blinked. “Like what? Tired and grumpy and with a coffee stain on my shirt?”
“Yes. Exactly that.” She laughed and ruffled his hair in a way that only a mother could do. “Taking care of people again. You’re almost happy.”
“I’ve always been happy.”
“No, you haven’t. You weren’t happy at all for a long time. But lately you’ve been getting there, and it does my heart good to see it.”
He opened his mouth to reply but didn’t know what to say. He felt like squirming, which was a ridiculous impulse.
“So if there’s something in particular that’s been making you happy, maybe you could think about taking whatever steps are necessary to keep it.”
&nbs
p; He frowned up at her, although he knew exactly what she was talking about. “There’s nothing—”
“Okay, okay. I’m not saying there is. I’m just saying you’ll be a bigger fool than I know you to be if you let something that makes you happy slip away because you’re too scared to make it yours for real.”
Before he could shape a suitable response to that, she walked out of the office.
THE FOLLOWING NIGHT, Liz did something very stupid and fell asleep in Vince’s bed.
She shouldn’t have even been in his bed, but he’d texted her at about ten the night before and said that Charlie was out for the evening and his bed was available if she was interested.
She was interested. She hadn’t seen Vince all day and had been feeling the loss. So she’d snuck over, thinking an hour of sex would sustain her without anyone being the wiser.
But she’d fallen asleep afterward and didn’t wake up until seven the following morning.
It was Saturday, and the only thing on her schedule was to give the local flea market a quick once-over, so it wasn’t like she was late for anything. The problem was that this late in the morning, there was a reasonable chance that Jane was already up.
Or, even worse, Em, who often came over for coffee and pastries on the weekends.
She sat up abruptly, trying to get her bearings and think through what she should do.
Vince had been asleep, but at her move, he mumbled out a wordless reproach and pulled her back down so he was spooning her from behind again.
He seemed to like that position.
So did she.
His big, warm body cradling her always made her feel small and protected. Like she didn’t have to always be completely in control.
So she didn’t resist the move the way she should have. In fact, she snuggled back into him, trying to make her mind work clearly.
“It’s late,” she said.
“Not that late. Charlie doesn’t get up until eight or nine on Saturdays.” He sounded more awake now, but his voice was husky and relaxed. Deliciously textured.
“But Jane does.”
“So?”
“So? You’re asking me so? If Jane’s up, I’m going to have a hell of a time getting in without her seeing me, and then she’ll demand to know where I’ve been.”
“Just don’t tell her.”
“I have to tell her something.”
“Why?”
“Because she’s my sister. You can’t just tell your sister nothing.”
“Why not?”
“Why not? You’ve obviously never had a sister, or you wouldn’t ask that ridiculous question.” Her voice was light, playful, in keeping with their normal banter and the current conversation. But she felt Vince’s body change behind her at her last words.
She rolled over immediately so she could see his face. He felt tense, and his face looked shuttered. “Vince, what’s the matter?”
He gave her a little smile. “Nothing.”
“Don’t give me that. Something’s wrong. What did I say?” She was so worried she lifted a hand to cup his jaw tenderly. “Tell me.”
He let out a breath and shook his head. “It’s really nothing. Not your fault at all. But I do have a sister.” He cleared his throat. “I did.”
She couldn’t hide her surprise. “What? I thought you just had the one brother.”
“I had a sister. Three years younger than me. She died when I was a senior in college.”
“Oh my God! I’m so sorry. What happened?” She didn’t think through the wisdom of such a question. In their relationship, she probably shouldn’t pry into his history and private griefs, but she was too overwhelmed to guard her words.
“Her boyfriend was... an asshole. He was drunk one evening as he drove her back to the dorms. They didn’t make it.”
“Oh my God. Oh my God!” She raised her other hand so she was framing his face with them. “Vince, I didn’t know.”
“I know you didn’t. I never told you, and you’ve never known my family. I’m just explaining why I responded the way I did when you said I never had a sister.”
“It was a terrible thing to say.”
“Not if you didn’t know. And you didn’t.” He leaned forward and kissed her gently.
She stroked his hair, his bristly jaw. “What was her name?”
“We called her Georgie. She was eighteen when she died. She was sweet and always happy. So nothing at all like me.” He gave her a wry, slightly bittersweet smile. “We were both going to UVA. I was a senior. I was supposed to look after her.”
“Oh no, Vince, please don’t tell me you blame yourself.”
“I don’t. Not really. Not rationally. I did try to get her away from that guy. I knew he was bad news from the beginning. But she was eighteen, and she was crazy about him. She wouldn’t listen to me.” He let out a long breath, his body softening and his face more vulnerable than she’d ever seen it. “I still miss her.”
“Of course you do.” She readjusted so she could hug him tight. “I can’t even imagine how it would feel to lose a sister that way. I’m so sorry.”
He hugged her back. “Thank you.”
After a few minutes, she murmured, “I bet you were a good brother.”
“I tried.” His voice was slightly hoarse. “I could have been better, but I tried.”
“She knew you loved her.”
“I think she did. I really think she did.”
“I know she did.” She pulled back so she could see his face, and the look there took her breath away. She kissed him because she couldn’t rein in the power of what she was feeling.
He kissed her back immediately, deepening it with his lips and his tongue. When he eased her over onto her back and moved over her, he was obviously ready for more. She mumbled against his mouth, “What about morning breath?”
“What’s morning breath?” He was pushing up the T-shirt—one she’d borrowed from him to sleep in—and was running his hands up and down her body.
She chuckled and buried her fingers in his thick hair. The truth was she didn’t care much about morning breath at the moment. There was nothing even remotely unpleasant about Vince right now, about what they were doing. It was real and natural and as intense as anything she’d ever experienced. She hoped he felt the same way.
They kissed for a long time—slow and deep and tender—and she wasn’t aware of any particular moment when it changed from kissing to sex. It was all part of one delicious tangle of emotion and physicality.
Before she sorted out specific moves, Vince was moving inside her, their bodies rocking together as they kissed, his tongue moving with the rhythm of his hips. Everything felt good. Too good. Better than she could begin to understand. She couldn’t focus enough to work up toward a real orgasm, but she was gasping out in pleasure as they rocked, as they kissed.
Vince didn’t have his normal control. He was grunting in his throat, even as their mouths moved together, and his release seemed to take him by surprise. He let out a sharp exclamation as he tore his mouth away from hers, his face contorted with pleasure.
He came inside her. She felt the spasms of his release, his body jerking against hers.
They hadn’t used a condom—hadn’t even thought about it—and she was wet between her legs as he started to soften above her.
She didn’t even regret it.
Nothing had ever felt so good in her life. So real. So deep. So intimate.
Vince lifted his head, his expression finally looking more like himself. He gave her a little twist of a smile. “Sorry about the condom.”
“That’s okay. We weren’t thinking. I’m on birth control, so unless you’ve got something going on in the health department that you haven’t told me, we’ll be fine.”
“I’m healthy.”
“Good. Me too. We should be fine.”
They gazed at each other for a minute, and she was suddenly conscious of what had just happened between them, what she’d just been
feeling.
It was wrong.
It wasn’t what they’d agreed to.
It wasn’t what she was supposed to feel.
Things were getting out of control, and she couldn’t let them. She’d always been better and smarter than that.
Fighting the flicker of terror, she gave him a quick smile. “I really need to be getting back home now.”
“Yeah. I guess so.” Vince’s face twisted briefly. “Liz?”
She’d been climbing out of bed, but she paused at his hoarse question. “Yes?”
His features tightened again. It looked like he was trying to say something, but she had no idea what it was. Hopefully he wasn’t going to tell her that things were getting too intense between them and they needed to call it quits.
That would probably be the smartest thing, but she didn’t want to hear it.
Then Vince’s face relaxed. “Let me check to make sure Charlie’s not up and the coast is clear before you leave the room.”
“Oh. Yeah. Good plan.”
IF LIZ WAS HOPING THAT her place would be as empty and quiet as Vince’s had been when she came home, she was doomed to disappointment.
Jane was awake, sitting on the burgundy Queen Anne chair in their living room and staring down at her phone when Liz walked through the front door.
Jane glanced up when Liz entered. “I thought you were still in bed. Where have you been?”
“Out.” It was a stupid answer, and Liz had no doubts that Jane would follow up and demand to know more details.
In some ways, it would be a relief to finally tell her the truth.
But Jane didn’t ask any further questions or insist on a real answer. She looked back down at her phone.
This was sign enough that something was seriously wrong.
Liz immediately forgot about her own situation and flurry of feelings for Vince and hurried over to the chair next to Jane. “What’s the matter?”
“Nothing.” Jane didn’t raise her head this time. Her face was hidden behind her loose hair.
“Jane, stop hiding right now. Tell me what’s the matter.”
Jane took a deep, purposeful breath and straightened her spine and her shoulders. She met Liz’s eyes directly. “It’s nothing important. Charlie went out on a date last night. A real date.”