God, why couldn’t that be true? Even now, she could feel the tingle of energy crackling across her skin. The fine hairs on the back of her neck were standing on end. Not because Sean was touching her, but because she could feel Erik’s gaze raking down her spine.
He’d always had that effect on her. On her body. Lola couldn’t remember a time when she hadn’t wanted him. From the moment she’d discovered that boys were beautiful instead of gross, Erik McKnight had been the source of all her fantasies.
And apparently, not even Erik stomping on her heart was enough to halt her bone-deep reaction.
Lola fought the urge to glance back over her shoulder. Nope, she was stronger than that.
Or she wanted to be, because her body was still in a riot, even from the brief physical contact of his hard chest and muscled thighs.
Damn him for making her ache in a way no one else ever had.
* * *
“HERE, I THINK you need this.” A day after running into Erik, Hope Harper plunked a shot glass down onto the table in front of Lola, spilling the amber liquid.
She wasn’t wrong. “I shouldn’t.”
“Seriously, Lola, every girl deserves the numbness of alcohol when the ex unexpectedly shows up,” Tatum Huntley drawled. She’d know, considering not long ago her husband returned from the dead after three years.
Picking up the glass, Lola took a deep breath, slammed the drink back and came up sputtering.
“Holy shit. I thought that was rum or something. Why would you give me cinnamon whiskey?”
Lexi Newcomb plopped back into her seat across the table. “I thought you liked cinnamon.”
Lola did, but not when she wasn’t expecting that kind of burn.
Looking at the women surrounding her, she was grateful that the minute she’d called on her friends they’d dropped everything to come ply her with alcohol and provide sound advice.
She definitely needed both right now.
“So, you literally turned around and ran straight into him?”
Lola wiped her hands down her face, hoping to erase the memory with the gesture. It didn’t work. But her body was starting to feel warm—even warmer than memories of Erik usually left her—and some of the tension she’d been fighting since yesterday was easing out of her muscles.
“Yeah. Sean rescued me, not that I needed rescuing.”
“Of course not,” Hope said, patting her hand.
“Sean, huh?” The speculative look that Tatum passed across the table didn’t do much to settle Lola’s nerves.
“Nope, don’t go there.”
Easing back in her chair, her friend crossed her arms over her chest and raised a single eyebrow. “Why not?”
“Because the last thing I need is to encourage Sean. He’s been trying to get me into bed for months.”
“And remind me, why have you resisted?” Tatum asked. “He’s hot, has a reputation for knowing exactly what he’s doing in the bedroom, and you haven’t exactly been burning up the sheets lately.”
“Or ever,” Willow Warwick tacked on in her soft way. That didn’t quite kill Lola’s twinge of embarrassment and annoyance—at herself. Her friends weren’t wrong.
“We’re not suggesting you become the Sweetheart slut, honey,” Lexi said. “But there’s nothing wrong with having a little fun now and again. A girl has needs.”
Yeah, right. That was easy for them to say. They all had amazing husbands who were perfectly capable of meeting every one of their needs. They didn’t remember how difficult it was to be single.
Lola looked around the table at the women staring earnestly back at her. Lexi she’d known almost all her life—their dads had been friends forever. Tatum had moved to Sweetheart several years ago. Lola had known Hope and Willow before, but they’d never been real friends.
Not until she’d moved back after college and opened her studio on Main Street, right down from Lexi’s, Willow’s and Tatum’s shops and the newspaper office where Hope worked. In the past few years, they’d become so close that it felt like these women had always been a part of her life.
They knew everything, which sometimes was a curse more than a blessing.
Tatum’s eyebrows beetled, her gaze swept across the table and, making a quick decision, she signaled their waitress for another round.
“No,” Lola protested when she appeared with their drinks.
But Tatum ignored her. “Trust me, you’re gonna need this,” she said, holding out the second shot to her. “Because I’m about to lay something on you.”
Lola stared at the glass for a couple of seconds, looked up into Tatum’s steady gaze and decided what the hell. She tossed it back, the fire of it flaming in her belly.
“When’s the last time you got laid? No, don’t answer that because I already know. It’s been months. Probably closer to a year. You need sex. To take the edge off. Especially with Erik back in town.”
Tatum aimed a pointed look at her. “Trust me when I say I understand how difficult it is to resist falling back into bed with someone you have history with.”
God, that was the last thing she needed right now. Even the thought of sleeping with Erik again sent heat straight through her. The problem was, the reaction was immediately chased by an icy cold that burned almost as much as the whiskey.
“Sean’s been dancing around you for months. And here’s the thing. He’s safe. Everyone knows he doesn’t do permanent.”
“What are you suggesting?”
“I’m suggesting that you fuck his brains out and take the edge off so you’re not a lit fuse on a firework ready to explode every time you run into Erik. You know Erik’s going to be working at the fire station—you’re bound to see him. You can’t avoid him altogether.”
She could sure try. And maybe it was the two shots of whiskey talking—on top of the two beers she’d had before her friends decided she needed the hard stuff—but the idea of jumping Sean didn’t sound completely asinine.
In fact, it sounded...perfect. Damn, she needed to get laid. Ever since running into Erik yesterday, her body had been a riot of reactions and nerves. And God knew that option wasn’t any option at all.
She was not sleeping with Erik again. Period.
It wasn’t that she wasn’t attracted to Sean. She was. Who wouldn’t be? He was fit, funny and sexy as hell. She just wasn’t interested in anything deep with a guy who ran into burning buildings for a living.
If she was honest and up front with him about what this was, and what it wasn’t...
The fire that had rolled into her belly along with the shots started to spread a pleasant warmth through her body.
Slowly Lola said, “Sean’s working tonight.” A plan began to form in her head. Lola had always been a woman of action. Once she made up her mind, she rarely saw any reason to delay executing.
Tatum’s eyebrows shot up and a wicked smile twisted her mouth.
Hope said, “You’ve had a couple drinks, Lola. Are you sure you want to do this now?”
She shook her head, the room moving a little. “Why not? I mean, I don’t necessarily need the liquid courage, but it can’t hurt. Especially for what I’ve got in mind.”
Pushing her chair back, Lola barely heard the loud scrape of legs against the wooden floor. “One of you ladies mind dropping me at the station?”
“You’re sure?” Willow asked, staring up at her.
Lola nodded. “I need to do this.” She needed to exorcise thoughts of Erik from her head—and memories of him from her body. The girls were right. She needed to take the edge off before she did something really stupid. It was going to be a long few weeks if she didn’t.
Hope drove her to the front of the station. She offered to walk inside with her, but Lola refused. The station had been her second home all
her life. She was comfortable there. Comfortable with the guys.
Although, it was late, creeping toward midnight, so most likely everyone would be catching some sleep.
The heat of the day had faded, and the pleasant breeze actually made her a little chilly. Wrapping her arms around her waist, Lola hugged herself. She tipped her head backward, taking in the brilliant stars shining through the black canvas of sky.
The world spun. Oh, maybe tipping her head back wasn’t such a good idea.
She slipped into the station, registering that the engine sat silent, doors open and waiting, behind the huge rolling glass door. All the lights were out, except the few they kept burning around the clock.
Lola tiptoed down the hall toward the honeycomb of rooms the guys used on shift. She’d been here a million times, even occasionally in the middle of the night, when she was younger and visiting her father. When she got older it was to see Colt or Erik.
Nope, she wasn’t thinking about him tonight. This was about exorcising Erik from her body and mind, not taking a stroll down memory lane.
Each shift was made up of four positions, each with a separate room, several beds filling the space so that every guy had his own whenever he was on. They all had lockers for their belongings. Despite the close quarters, she knew from personal experience that the rooms were surprisingly soundproof.
Which was a good thing, considering what she planned.
Lola paused outside Sean’s room. Butterflies twisted through her belly. Or maybe that was the whiskey.
Either way, now that she was here, she was determined to see this through.
Standing at the doorway, Lola began to strip, letting her clothes drop softly to the floor. She stopped at her bra and panties, her bravado only carrying her so far.
She could just see the outline of his long body beneath the thin sheet. Lola paused at the edge of the bed.
Should she wake him up now, or crawl in with him first?
Deciding she was in for a penny, in for a pound, Lola reached for the sheet. His back was to her, naked, moonlight streaming across all his rippling muscles and broad shoulders.
Dropping down onto the mattress, Lola snuggled up against him. She ran her fingers down the slope of his waist. Mmm, yummy. A buzz she’d never experienced with him before melted into her bloodstream. Maybe this was going to be better than she’d anticipated.
Pressing her mouth to the curve of his neck, she murmured, “I need you to touch me. Right now.”
Beneath her hands, he stirred. His massive body shifted, rolled, and suddenly Lola found herself flat on her back, staring up into sleepy, half-lidded, gorgeous gray eyes.
Oh, shit. Sean did not have gray eyes.
2
ERIK HAD NO idea what the hell was going on. He’d been sound asleep one minute and had a warm, very willing woman pressed against him the next.
Used to going from zero to a thousand in the blink of an eye thanks to his job, Erik was absolutely, positively lucid as he rolled. Somewhere in the middle of the maneuver his brain kicked in and he knew the woman in his bed was Lola.
He recognized the feel of her. Her unique scent, something citrus with a spicy undertone. A brush of cinnamon now that had never been there before.
Even after six years, every detail about this woman was etched into his brain...right along with the ever present need for more of her.
So his body reacted, going stone hard in a split second. His burgeoning erection nestled between the soft heat of her thighs. Somehow he managed to bite back the groan climbing up his throat.
“What the hell?” he growled, his voice rough with sleep.
Even through the heavy darkness, Lola stared up at him with those rich brown eyes that had always had the ability to slam through him. Her face was so damn expressive.
And right now her expression was hazy and hot. She was as turned on as he was. Which wasn’t helping. Her chest rose and fell on short breaths and her skin... God, touching her burned.
Involuntarily, his hips pulsed against her, rubbing his throbbing flesh into the cradle of her thighs. And Erik realized she was almost completely naked.
Miles of her silky, honey-toned skin spread out, just begging for him to taste her.
He wanted her. Needed her. Had missed her so much. But he was also wary and still reeling from the things she’d said yesterday. All true, but still...
Fingers tangled in her long, dark hair, Erik said, “A day ago you were condemning me, and now you’re crawling into my bed half-naked? What gives, Lola?”
Her expression morphed, shuttered. Her gaze darted over his shoulder, focusing on something other than him. He didn’t like that at all.
Lola shifted, this time not to get closer, but to slip away.
“Oh, no you don’t.” His fingers tightened, pulling her gaze back on his. “You’re the one who climbed into my bed. I’m keeping you here until you explain what the hell is going on.”
Tension tightened her body for several seconds before everything inside her just...relaxed, and she sank deeper into the mattress beneath the weight of his body.
“Nothing, Erik. Let me go.”
He should. Deep down, Erik knew it. But the feel of her...having her in his bed again after all these years...
Softly his fingers untangled from her hair and trailed across the silky smooth skin of her cheek and jaw. Touching her was the most amazing form of torture. The kick of awareness and need would have brought him to his knees if he was upright.
This woman had always had the ability to cut straight through him. He’d wanted her since he was seventeen. It had taken him almost a year to convince her to go out with him. To look at him as something other than her big brother’s best friend.
In those months he’d done everything he could to show her he was serious and not just looking for something quick and easy. And the day she’d finally agreed to go out with him...he’d never forget the powerful, joyful feeling that had swept through him. Or the delight and wonder in her expression when she’d opened the box to find the camera he’d saved six months to buy her. The extra hours he’d worked had been totally worth it.
He hadn’t given her the gift just in the hopes of breaking through her defenses. He understood the reasons she’d resisted, but he’d always known they’d be amazing together.
At seventeen he’d been sure Lola Whittaker was the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. And up until the day he’d almost killed her brother, that had continued to be the plan.
So, yes, he should listen and let her go.
But he couldn’t. He might have left, but he’d never let her go in his heart. Not really. Lola had haunted him for six years. He’d done the right thing once. Apparently he wasn’t strong enough to do it again.
“I can’t,” he whispered right before his mouth claimed hers.
She stiffened, but the reaction lasted only a handful of seconds before she gripped his shoulders and pulled him closer. A sound leaked out of her throat, a cross between a groan and relief.
At a single swipe of his tongue across her lips, she parted her mouth and let him in. God, she tasted just like he remembered. Spearing his tongue deep inside her mouth, he stroked against her own silky tongue.
She sucked and nipped. Chased after him when he tried to pull away. “Easy, baby,” he murmured. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Her legs tangled with his, hands chasing urgently over hot skin. She was just as frantic for him, which settled something deep inside him.
Erik pulled back, needing to look at her. Take her in. See her again. His gaze scraped down her lush body, all golden skin and compact muscle. God, she was gorgeous. And he wasn’t just talking about the outside.
Lola had always intrigued him. Even as a kid, her confidence and deter
mination were enviable and contagious. She knew who she was and what she wanted. From the outside looking in, he didn’t think she’d ever faltered or questioned her own path.
He was someone who always questioned who he was, where he was going and what his purpose was, so her attitude had been like a shining beacon, pulling him in.
Lola, eyes half-lidded and sparkling with promise, arched up. Reaching behind herself, she popped the clasp of her bra open. Shaking the straps down her arms, she tossed the thing to the floor.
Just as he’d remembered, even her breasts were that warm, golden tone. He wanted to run his tongue over every inch of her skin, breathe her in. Her dark, dusky nipples puckered hard, begging him to touch and taste.
She squirmed beneath his gaze, a flash of unease crossing her expression. “Don’t,” he whispered. Erik didn’t think he could take it if she changed her mind. Not now.
“I don’t do reckless,” she murmured. And Erik knew just how true that statement was. Losing her mom so suddenly, living with her remaining parent risking his life every night...and then falling for Erik even after he started living the same life. That fear she’d kept bottled up had made her cautious, not that he blamed her.
Colt’s accident had surely made her even more so.
His life, on the other hand, was nothing but reckless.
Erik shifted, ready to climb out of bed even though it was the last thing he really wanted.
But Lola’s grip on him tightened, holding him in place. “Tonight I’m stepping outside my comfort zone,” she whispered. “You walked away without giving me anything, Erik. Give me this.”
Her words lanced through him, mixing pain into the pleasure that swamped his body. But he couldn’t tell her no. Had never been able to tell her no. Which was why he’d texted that he was leaving—because he knew if he’d looked in her eyes and she’d asked him to stay, he would have.
The thought of watching the love she’d felt for him morph into accusation and loathing—blame he’d rightly deserved replacing everything they once shared—had nearly killed him.
Tomorrow they’d deal with whatever came next. Right now he just planned on loving her.
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