Undeniably Yours

by Shannon Stacey

  “Mmm.”

  “Good cake?”

  “Mmm-hmm.”

  He rolled onto his side and she spooned against him, both of them still trying to catch their breath. There was more he wanted to say, but she was so soft and pliant against him, he didn’t dare open his mouth for fear all of his feelings would come falling out and she’d run screaming.

  For now it was enough just to hold her.

  ***

  Beth spooned against Kevin’s warm and naked body, determined not to let the first pangs of regret ruin the oh yeah, I needed that afterglow.

  And when he draped his arm across her waist so he could rest his hand on the small bump of baby, she closed her eyes and smiled. Whether they should have gotten naked together or not—and it was definitely a not, even if her willpower had evaporated the second she opened the door—she was going to let herself enjoy this moment.

  He nuzzled her hair. “If I go snowmobiling tomorrow, can we do this again tomorrow night?”

  She didn’t want to talk about tomorrow night—or any other night—because her arguments against their sleeping together were still valid, if temporarily forgotten. Making a noncommittal noise, she avoided answering the question.

  He was quiet long enough she would have thought he was asleep if not for the fact she already knew he snored. And he was lightly stroking her belly, too, in a distracted way that made her think he was lost in thought. Maybe thinking about the baby or maybe about the fact they’d just had sex despite her best intentions to stay out of his bed. Or her bed.

  “I can practically hear the wheels turning in your head,” he mumbled against her hair. “How long do I have before you throw me out?”

  “A few minutes.” She rolled under his arm until she was facing him. “I’m trying to enjoy the moment before I remind you—and myself—of all the reasons we can’t do this.”

  He looked too serious, which could lead to the same old discussion she didn’t want to have yet, so she ran her finger down the bump in his nose. He smiled and said, “Go ahead. Ask me how I broke it.”

  “I’m sure it was some kind of fun Kowalski family activity.”

  “Family, yes. Fun…not so much. Joe used to have a pretty bad drinking problem and one day I caught him trying to go for a joyride in his car, drunk off his ass. He busted my nose, but he didn’t get his keys back.”

  “I can’t imagine Joe acting like that. He seems so…not like that.” She knew they could get boisterous, but that was serious stuff. Not playing. “Must have taken you a while to get past that.”

  “Not really. That was the rock-bottom moment that made him quit drinking, so it was worth it. Plus, it adds that ruggedly handsome element that keeps me from being too pretty.”

  As close as his family was, she imagined it had been a lot more painful than he let on, but she let it go. “Heaven forbid you should be too pretty. Imagine all the napkins the bar would go through, then.”

  “There’s only one napkin I want. The one with your lips imprinted on it and a message asking me to do unbelievably naughty things to you.”

  She laughed and pushed at his shoulder. “I told you, it’s never gonna happen.”

  “A man can hope.”

  She was about to reiterate how futile that hope was when the baby kicked. Not just the little flutter that was more of a fleeting tickle, but a real kick. Without thinking, she grabbed Kevin’s hand and laid it flat over the spot, pressing down gently.

  He froze and a few long moments later, she saw the amazement light up Kevin’s face at the same time she felt the baby kick again. Sporadic and faint, there were several more jabs before the baby seemed to settle in.

  Kevin smiled and kissed her forehead. “He’s feeling feisty tonight.”

  “She sure is.”

  They were quiet for a few more minutes and she was content to lay with her head on his arm and her face against his chest as his hand rested on her stomach. But then she felt his muscles start relaxing as his breathing slowed and she pulled out of his embrace. No matter how much she wanted to, they couldn’t fall asleep like that.

  “Time to go.”

  He groaned and stretched out on his back. “Are you serious?”

  “Very.” She pulled at the blanket and tucked it firmly under her arms. “I had a long day at work and I need to sleep.”

  The muscles in his jaw flexed, but he kept his tone light as he climbed out of bed. “I can’t believe you’re sending me on the walk of shame.”

  “It’s only the walk of shame if you sleep and then go home in the same clothes you were wearing. I’m actually saving you from the walk of shame.”

  “Gee, thanks. This is so much better than holding you in that nice comfy bed.”

  As inviting as that sounded, she knew falling asleep in his arms and waking up next to him the next morning would make it so much harder, if not impossible, to rein the relationship in. She’d had her chocolate cake and that was bad enough. But waking up with the whole damn dessert cart next to her wasn’t the way to get back on the wagon.

  Not that she didn’t feel a few pangs of regret as he put his clothes back on. Or when he looked at the empty spot next to her and heaved a dramatic sigh. But she knew the decision she’d originally made for them to just be friends was the right one, so she didn’t cave.

  He offered her one last moment of temptation. “You’re sure? I could be naked again in ten seconds or less.”

  No, she wasn’t sure at all. “I’m sure.”

  He shrugged as if to say it was her loss, but there was a sadness around his eyes she hated seeing. “Good night, then.”

  “Good night. Oh, and Kevin? Make sure you lock the door when you leave.”

  He was laughing when he walked out her door, which made her feel a bit better, but as exhausted as she was, it still took her a very long time to fall asleep.

  Chapter Fifeen

  Nothing like a big Friday-night game to attract a crowd, Kevin thought with satisfaction as he drew another beer off the tap. The place was hopping, the mood was good and the money flowed like liquid gold.

  And Sam Logan was back, sitting at his usual table. He wasn’t sure if that fell into the good or the bad column, but it might snap Paulie out of the mood she’d been wallowing in. He was willing to replace a few more broken glasses if it meant she’d stop moping around.

  They couldn’t both mope at the same time and Kevin wasn’t done with his turn yet. Beth was firmly back in friends mode. And not friends with benefits, either. No, they were right back to neighbors who just happened to be having a baby together.

  When he’d tried to talk to her before she left for work, she’d offered him a very fake smile and a brisk excuse about how she was running late but maybe she’d run into him later. With the conversation put off, he’d had all day to dwell on it.

  Now that there was some time and distance between him and the Machiavellian men in his family, he was starting to think concocting an elaborate scheme to trick Beth into working at Jasper’s wasn’t the way to go. He wasn’t a very good liar and, if she saw through it, he’d be in trouble.

  Better to respect her intelligence and straight-up tell her about the job. It was a solid offer for a solid reason, so what about it could possibly offend her?

  Well, the timing sucked, for one thing. Since she had some kind of hang-up about him suffocating her, trying to become her boss on top of already being her landlord and the father of her child, and on the day after they had sex, probably wasn’t going to be a big hit.

  But he wanted her off her feet all day, dammit, so he’d just have to present his case in a rational manner and hope she didn’t jump to all sorts of irrational conclusions.

  Darcy picked up the tray of drinks he set up for her. “Heads up on twelve, boss.”

  He glanced over at the table in question and raised an eyebrow. A patron was getting grabby with Paulie and she wasn’t taking his head off his shoulders. Odd. Maybe she wasn’t as snapped out of her fu
nk as he thought she was.

  Then he looked over at Sam’s table. The guy’s eyes were practically glued to table twelve and his hands were curled into fists. He might have been born with a silver spoon in his mouth, but Logan had the look of a scrapper.

  Not good. Not good at all. He caught Paulie’s attention and gestured her back to the bar.

  “Sam’s not a big fan of that guy’s hand on your ass.”

  “He can join the not-a-big-fan club, then. That guy may be a big spender, but if he puts his hands on me again, he’s getting a lapful of Budweiser.”

  “If he puts his hands on you again, I think we’ll be bailing Sam out of jail tomorrow morning.”

  She glanced over at Sam, then back again. It was a quick look, but he saw the way her jaw tightened. “None of Sam’s business whose hand is on my ass.”

  “I’m guessing he’d beg to differ.”

  She just rolled her eyes and walked away. He went back to tending the bar alongside Randy, but he kept an eye on the situation. The crowd was a happy crowd, but he could tell by the vibe if a punch was thrown the place was going to get really rowdy really fast.

  Sure enough, fifteen minutes later, the big spender at table twelve put his arm around Paulie’s hips and tried to pull her onto his lap. When he got the slushy ice from the bottom of his not-quite-empty pitcher of beer instead, he launched out of his chair with a roar of anger.

  Kevin was only halfway across the bar, Louisville Slugger in hand, when the asshole put his hands on Paulie’s shoulders and shoved. She had to backpedal, but she didn’t go down.

  It didn’t matter. Jasper’s erupted in outrage. Besides the basic fact a man didn’t put his hands on a woman in anger, Paulie was a particular favorite with the regulars.

  Unfortunately for Twelve, Sam reached him before Kevin did. Kevin might be the one with the bat, but he was a lot less likely to swing. Sam, on the other hand, spun the guy around and plowed his fist into the guy’s face.

  Twelve folded like a napkin, but his buddies were on their feet, ready to jump in. A trio of local college boys came in swinging and the table collapsed with a crash under the weight of two brawlers. Kevin shouted, but anybody who actually heard him over the melee ignored him.

  Paulie, being a smart woman, had taken refuge behind a couple of cement workers who looked like they could change a flat tire on their truck without a jack. Over in the corner a smaller brawl broke out for no apparent reason other than what the hell, why not?

  Twelve was back on his feet and, because Sam was looking around for Paulie, he managed to land one hell of a sucker punch. Sam stayed on his feet, but he’d had his bell rung and only the fact Twelve got bumped from behind kept him from throwing the knockout punch. Sam regrouped enough to throw a mean right hook and Twelve staggered.

  When he saw one of the frat boys lifting a chair as a weapon, Kevin decided enough was enough. He put two fingers in his mouth and let loose a whistle that probably made every dog within a ten-mile radius whine. Everybody froze. “No cops if it ends right now.”

  Twelve wasn’t too steady on his feet, but that didn’t stop him from running his mouth, though the swelling lip didn’t help. “What’s this guy’s problem?”

  Kevin pointed the Louisville Slugger at him. “You get the hell out of my bar. If I ever see you in here again, I’ll bust your kneecaps up so bad you’ll need a new couch ’cause your legs’ll bend the wrong way.”

  Twelve and his buddies, who hadn’t fared well at the hands of the college boys, made a big show of grumbling, but they headed out the door. Without dropping any cash on the table first, of course. Jasper’s would be eating that bill, along with the table and busted glasses.

  As he relocated some of his patrons to a more intact section of the bar so he and Darcy could start cleaning up, he saw Paulie practically dragging Sam toward the door to the back hall. No doubt she’d been snapped out of her funk now, as the poor guy was probably about to discover.

  With the excitement over and everybody resettled, Kevin got a couple of buckets and exchanged the baseball bat for a broom and dustpan. The mindless cleanup would be good for him. Give him time to dwell on how he was going to convince Beth she wanted to work for him.

  ***

  Paulie slammed her apartment door behind Sam and shoved him toward her couch. “You’re an idiot.”

  “I missed you, too.”

  “What the hell were you trying to prove down there?”

  He leaned back against the couch, watching her as she went to rummage through her freezer. She should have grabbed some ice from the bar, but she was so focused on getting him upstairs before he did anything else stupid, she didn’t think of it. She had a bag of frozen French fries, though, for days when she wanted something even worse for her than the hand-cut fries served downstairs.

  She walked over and slapped it in his hand. “Use this.”

  He very gingerly pressed the bag to his face, wincing. “It did hurt, you know.”

  “I’m sure it did. The entire right side of your face is turning black-and-blue.”

  “No, not that. Well, yes that hurt. But I mean when you left. You said if you thought I’d have been more hurt than embarrassed you never would have run in the first place. It hurt.”

  “Your pride maybe,” she muttered because she’d rather pick a fight than go near a conversation that dug down into how they really felt.

  It was one thing when his blackmail scheme was a game. Maybe they’d hang out, hit the sheets a few times. The fact she might still have some feelings for him was an unpleasant surprise. Him still having feelings for her would be downright worst-case scenario.

  He grimaced as he shifted the bag. “More than hurt, actually. I was wrecked.”

  “Give my French fries back.” She tried to snatch them away. “Go downstairs and beg somebody who cares for some ice.”

  He tossed the fries to the side and grabbed her wrists. Before she could even think about reacting, he had her flat on her back on the couch with his body pinning hers down. “Is that your bitchy way of saying you don’t care about me?”

  “If I cared about you, I probably wouldn’t have dumped your ass at the altar, would I?”

  “Ouch.” He shifted on top of her and she forced herself to ignore how parts of him were rubbing against parts of her. Or tried to, anyway. “You panicked and you ran and I’ve spent the last five years hating myself for standing there and watching you go. I could have caught you before you hit the main doors.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “In those heels you were wearing? It would have been like sacking a third-string rookie quarterback.”

  “A third-string rookie quarterback wouldn’t drive a three-inch heel through your—”

  He shut her up with his mouth. She stiffed and jerked her wrists out of his hands so she could put them on his shoulders. The intention was to push him off, hopefully onto the floor, but her hands felt those familiar muscles and slid around to his back, holding him close. All the tension left her body as five years of longing burned through the kiss.

  “I should have gone after you,” he said against her lips.

  “It wouldn’t have changed anything.”

  “It would have changed everything.” He lifted his head so he could see her eyes. “You loved me.”

  “Don’t go there, Sam. What was it you said? You’re just a businessman from Boston and I’m the saucy serving wench who struck your fancy. That’s all we’ve got going on here.”

  He kissed her neck, just below and behind her earlobe in the spot he’d long ago discovered drove her wild. “You’re lying.”

  She gritted her teeth, trying to ignore the delicious shivers playing with her spine. “Nothing. Has. Changed.”

  “Everything’s changed.” He licked at the spot, then blew gently on the moist skin. “I know what you want now.”

  “I want this life, not yours.”

  “I’m not trying to take you away from your life. I’m asking for a
chance to be a part of it.”

  She wanted so desperately to believe that. But the real problem, which he seemed to be ignoring, was not whether or not Sam Logan fit into Paulie Reed’s life. It was whether or not Paulie Reed fit into the life of Samuel Thomas Logan the Fourth. No matter how hard he pushed, Paulette Atherton wasn’t coming back.

  He kissed her again, a soft and gentle kiss that made her heart tumble, and then he looked down at her. “Just give me a chance, Paulie. We can make this work.”

  What the hell, she thought as she pulled him back down for another kiss. She’d left him once and survived. If things hadn’t changed as much as he claimed, she could do it again.

  He slid one of his hands between them and tried to tug up her shirt, but she grabbed his wrist. “Doesn’t your face hurt?”

  “Not as much as my body aches for you.”

  There was no resisting that, so she yanked the hem of her T-shirt out of her jeans. “Let me help you with that.”

  ***

  No matter how Beth crunched the numbers, she couldn’t justify anything short of working right up until the minute her water broke. She’d been diligent about saving every spare penny, but being pregnant was expensive, even with only half the medical bills.

  Prenatal vitamins and additions here and there to her wardrobe, though Paulie’s gift had definitely helped out there. She was trying to eat better, which cost a lot more than eating junk—and she had to lay off Jasper burgers or she was going to be pretty damn sad when she finally had the baby and the excess weight didn’t magically fall off. Then there was the adorable stuffed lamb she’d had to buy even though it wasn’t on sale.

  A knock on the door made her jump, but the flush she felt heating her cheeks had less to do with being startled than it did with the probability it was Kevin in the hallway.

  She didn’t know if it was the hormones or the excess cheeseburgers in her diet or what, but she’d been having some steamy dreams lately. Steamy and explicit and relentlessly hot. All starring the guy next door—or across the hall, actually.