Crashing Into Love

by Melissa Foster

“Hey, bro,” Wes said. “Hey, Fiona.”

  “Hi,” they repeated.

  “You guys look…happy.” Wes winked at Fiona.

  Jake’s eyes went serious as they swept from Wes to Fiona.

  “We are, but we only have a few minutes.” Jake laced his fingers with Fiona’s.

  “That’s not what I heard. I hear you have a lifetime.” Emily pushed Wes to the side and grinned. “Shea texted and said Fiona was staying in LA.”

  “I was hoping to give you guys the news myself.” Jake looked at Fiona.

  Fiona crinkled her nose. “Sorry. I sent her a text last night.”

  “That’s okay.” He kissed her softly.

  Emily awwed, Wes whispered, Christ, as if he were annoyed, but Jake knew he was just mocking the way Jake had recently made fun of all of his siblings’ relationships. Then a deep voice Jake hadn’t heard in ages boomed, “Dude. Are we in your bedroom?”

  Sam’s handsome face filled the screen. He had thick black hair, a sparse beard, and eyes full of mischief. He was Jake’s second cousin, and owned a river rafting company on the East Coast near the rest of his cousins.

  “Sam, it’s been forever! This is Fiona, and yeah, we’re in the bedroom,” Jake answered.

  “Cool. Hey, Fiona. I’ve heard a lot about you.” Sam reached an arm out to the side, and Sam’s sister, Shannon, appeared beside him. Shannon was in her early twenties, with long brown hair and warm hazel eyes.

  “Hey, Shannon,” Jake said. “This is my fiancée, Fiona.” My fiancée. He had no idea what universal powers had blessed him with Fiona, but he wasn’t going to mess it up this time. No way. No how.

  “It’s so good to see you guys. Emily said you would have only a few minutes, but we really wanted to say hi.” Shannon lived in Peaceful Harbor, Maryland, and it had been almost three years since Jake had seen her.

  “You look great, Shannon. How long are you two in town?” Jake asked.

  Shannon pressed her palm to her chest. “I’m here for a couple months for an environmental project. Doing a study in the mountains. Maybe we can catch up next time you’re in town. After visiting with everyone here, I’m going to stay with Uncle Hal for a while. And Sam…” She leaned to the side so Sam could look into the camera again.

  “I don’t know how long I’ll be here, man. My team’s putting things together for our next trip.” Sam’s company hosted rafting trips in different areas of the country.

  Jake’s mother peered into the camera again. “Jake, maybe after you wrap up filming, we can get together and celebrate your and Fiona’s engagement.”

  “That would be great, Mom. Thank you.” Jake pulled Fiona into a hug.

  “Thank you so much. I’d really like that,” she said to his mother.

  “It’s great to see you guys. Shannon, Sam, we’ll catch up soon, I promise, but we have to get off the line in a minute and I need to talk to Wes. Can you pull him into the mix real quick?”

  “Yo, bro.” Wes appeared between Shannon and Sam. “What’s up?”

  “I just wanted to tell you that when we get together again, I’m going to pound the shit out of you.” Jake smirked.

  “Seems to me you should be thanking me for taking you to the bar that night.” Wes lifted his chin in challenge.

  “Yeah, you’re right about that. For that, I’m not going to kill you, but for deceiving me, I’m going to hurt you pretty bad.”

  “Jake!” Fiona nudged his shoulder. “I won’t let him do that,” she said to Wes.

  “It’s okay, Fiona. I can take him,” Wes answered.

  “But we won’t let him.” Callie peered into the camera from over Wes’s shoulder and lifted Wes’s casted arm. “Your brother and his buddy Chip decided to go bull riding. The bull got the best of them. How about we call it a draw?”

  Jake pulled Fiona in close. “I think I’m the clear winner.”

  ON THE WAY to the actors’ dinner, they listened to the playlist Fiona had made for Jake and snuggled in the backseat of the limousine. They didn’t talk about what the songs meant or why Fiona had picked them. They didn’t need to. As with most things, now that Jake learned to follow his heart, they were both on the same page.

  Fiona couldn’t get over the way Jake had tried so hard to push away his feelings and be the most unselfish man he could by telling her to take the promotion. She teared up nearly every time she thought of it. She’d never met a man who tried so hard and dug so deep to change who he was.

  But she knew Jake didn’t really have to change. He had only to find the part of himself he’d repressed, and she knew she’d made the right choice—the only choice she could live with. Paul had taken the news well, although he was sorry to lose her. He offered to let her consult as often as they could work out their schedules. For now Fiona was happy to be involved with Joe and Clark’s new research paper. Jake had expressed an interest in spending more time at the cabin and in starting a family after they were married. But he was in no rush to fill up their time alone, and that suited her just fine.

  “Babe, I spoke to my cousin Savannah’s husband, Jack Remington, and got in touch with his mother, Joanie, and his brother Sage. They’re both willing to give you art lessons. Joanie is a painter, and Sage is a sculptor and painter.”

  “Jake…” She didn’t know what to say. She knew his cousin Savannah, Hal Braden’s daughter, had gotten married, but she had no idea she’d married into an artistic family, and she was floored that Jake had thought of this. “When did you have time to do that?”

  “When you were in the shower.”

  She smiled and shook her head. “Will you ever stop surprising me?”

  “Probably not, but I want your dreams to come true. I figured since I have a break after filming this movie, before we go to Sweetwater for Zane’s next film, we could fly to New York City, spend some time with the Remingtons so you can get to know them, and figure out a way to make a schedule for your art lessons.” He shrugged. “Maybe we’ll spend one week a month there while you learn to paint, or take a month when we have time off and knock around the city. Whatever you want.”

  “Oh, Jake.” Fiona blinked several times, trying to stave off the tears in her eyes. “Thank you.” She pressed her lips to his.

  “We’ll look for an engagement ring while we’re there.”

  She felt her eyes open wide. “We don’t have to—”

  He pressed his finger to her lips. “I’m taking my girl to Greece for the most romantic honeymoon. You stole my romantic I-love-you moment; let me have this. Please.”

  The limousine pulled up in front of the restaurant, and before Fiona could say a word, Jake was out of the car and reaching for her hand.

  Cameras flashed and paparazzi shouted questions, each one louder than the next. Jake tucked her beneath his arm and held her so tightly she thought he might leave fingerprints—and that would suit her just fine.

  At the entrance to the restaurant, two fans pulled at Jake’s arm. He tightened his grip around Fiona’s shoulder, and when the young fans tried to push their way in on either side of him, he held them at bay.

  “You can take a picture, but my left side belongs to my fiancée.”

  After the fans took their picture, Jake gazed into Fiona’s eyes and pulled her into an embrace. He took her in a deep kiss that should have embarrassed her, given that about fifty cameras were aimed at them. Instead, it weakened her knees. Jake might have had to get accustomed to feeling again, but Fiona had a big adjustment of her own. Every passionate kiss and every warm embrace set her body on fire. She had to become a master at disguising the desire Jake stirred in her—and it was an adjustment she was looking forward to practicing.

  He braced her against his body, wrapped in his powerful arms, and pressed his cheek to hers. “I’ve got you, Fi, and I’ll never let you go.”

  The End

  Phonix

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  Chapter One

  “HEY, ARMY! GET the hell over here!” my buddy Carter Young yells from the corner, where he’s filling his plastic cup with beer. Some girl’s running her fingers through his blond hair with a fuck-me look in her eyes.

  I push from the couch and look at my watch, wondering where the hell Cassidy is. It’s Saturday night at eight o’clock, and my buddy Carter’s graduation party is in full swing. I can hardly believe I’m finally out of college. Four years felt like forever when I was going to classes, playing football, and trying to keep my head above water with my grades so my parents would stay off my ass. Looking back, even now, on the day we graduated, it seems like four years went by really fast. Strange how that happens.

  Carter widens his glassy blue eyes and hollers again. “Army! Come on, man. It’s our last party. Get your ass over here and toast with me.”

  I’ve known Carter since we were freshmen, when we were eyeing the same girl in one of our classes. I can’t even remember which class it was, but I remember what he said to me on the way out the door that morning. I’ll flip you for her. The son of a bitch won the coin toss, and we’ve been each other’s wingmen ever since. Carter calls me Army because he says Wyatt Armstrong is a pussy name. Girls hear Army and they’re all over me. Well, except Cassidy. She calls me Wyatt, always has. I pick up a plastic cup and hold it under the nozzle, then check my watch again while he pumps the keg. Come on, Cass. Get here already.

  “To freedom!” He crashes his cup into mine, and our beers splash everywhere before we tip our heads back and drain them. “Dude, stop looking at your phone. I’ve watched you pine over Cassidy for four years. She’ll get here when she gets here.”

  “Pine, my ass. She’s just a friend and you know it. I swear, if that fucker screws Cassidy over again and she misses this party, I’m going to kick the shit out of him.” My best friend, Cassidy Lowell, has been dating a douche bag for two years. Kyle Warner. Even his name is douchy. He graduated a year ago and works at a furniture store. Loser.

  “Dude, fess up. You’ve banged her, right?” Carter flashes one of his come-on-dude-you-can-trust-me smiles.

  “No, man. I told you. You don’t bone a girl you’ve known since you were five.” Cassidy’s too good of a friend to sleep with. I’ve known her since we were five, when she moved into my neighborhood in Connecticut. Her sucky parents are never home, so over the years she’s stayed at our house probably more than her own. Hell, the truth is, we’ve slept together many times. The key word being slept, as in not fooled around.

  “That’s fucked up.” Carter stumbles backward and bumps into a hot blonde. “Hey, babe. Lemme ask you something,” he says with his face so close to hers he might as well kiss her. He lifts his cup and points his index finger at me. Carter’s blond hair is a shade lighter than the girl’s. He played football for two years, until he blew out his knee. But he’s still ripped, and the way the girl’s eyeing him, she loves it.

  He wraps his arm around her neck and I check my watch again. Goddamn it, Cassidy. I know Kyle’s screwing her over again. He’s always forgetting to pick her up or showing up late, but Cass is a girl, and they can be really stupid when it comes to guys. She forgives him and forgets, until the next time he treats her like she doesn’t matter. I’d like to punch his lights out, but Cass gets pissed when I tell her that.

  “If you were him”—Carter points to me again—“and you had a hot best friend, would you do her?”

  The blonde smiles as she drags her eyes down my body. Yeah, I’m ripped, too. What twenty-two-year-old guy who likes getting laid isn’t?

  She nods. “Oh, yeah, and I’m sure your BFF is dying for it. I know I would be.”

  She steps closer to me as I pull out my phone and text Cassidy.

  Where are you?

  The blonde nuzzles against my neck and presses her tits to my chest as Cassidy’s response comes through. Blondie has no idea that there’s no competition between the girl who wants to get laid and the one being stood up by an asshole.

  He’s late.

  “No shit,” I grumble, then text her back. I’ll come get you.

  The blonde pushes the phone down to my side and presses her lips to mine. I’m right there with her, sucking the beer from her tongue as she grinds her hips against mine, getting me hard as a rock.

  My phone vibrates again. I tear my lips away and read Cassidy’s text.

  He’ll get pissed.

  No shit he’ll get pissed. The douche hates me, as he should, because when you treat my best friend like shit, you’re in my sights, and when it comes to Cassidy, my trigger finger is itchy. I text her back. I’ll send Delilah. Delilah’s my twin sister. She’s standing by the back door with her fake boyfriend, Frank, looking bored to tears. Our parents are so conservative they’ve freaked her out about coming out, so she pretends to be straight, and Frank is her beard. I told her a hundred times that college is the time to let it all out and explore. Experiment. But she’s convinced they’ll somehow get wind of whatever she does, so she’s never taken the chance. There’s no arguing with Delilah when she’s set her mind on something, and it pisses me off that our parents have this hold over her. Like it’s any of their business who she wants to be with. I know they would never accept the lifestyle she wants. Delilah’s decision to hide her sexual preferences may not be what I think is best for her, but I’ll support her no matter what. The truth is, sometimes parents suck.

  Blondie pushes the phone down again and kisses my neck as the phone vibrates.

  “Are you going to keep texting?” she snaps.

  “Yeah. Are you going to keep sucking my neck like a vampire?” I don’t have time for this shit. Girls are a dime a dozen, but Cassidy’s been screwed over for too long, and I’m getting more pissed by the second.

  I read her text. Thinking…

  What the fuck? Thinking? I grab the blonde’s arm and turn her toward Carter. She wraps her arms around his neck. No one ever said college girls were discriminatory.

  “Carter, take care of her, would ya?”

  Two sheets to the wind, Carter sways as he asks, “Where you goin’?”

  “Picking up Cass. I’ll catch you later. Make sure you get a ride home. I don’t want to read about your ass splattered all over the road.” See, Dad? I do listen. I shove my hand in my pocket and whip out my keys. Cassidy can’t miss this graduation party. This is supposed to be our big celebration, the end to four years of studying and all the bullshit that goes along with it. We made it. We graduated! We even made it through the boring ceremony. She’s earned it. My parents made me and Delilah go to the ceremony. I
didn’t want to walk the stage, but they paid for college, so...They made a big deal out of graduation and even invited Uncle Tim, my father’s best friend, who handles the bookkeeping for the Taproom, the bar my parents own in Harborside, Massachusetts. Even though he’s not a blood relative, we’ve always called him Uncle Tim. I guess it’s fitting that he’d be at our graduation. He’s known us since we were born, and he went to our high school graduations. And if that wasn’t bad enough, they brought Aunt Lara and made her suffer through it, too.

  After the ceremony my father reiterated the same twenty-minute diatribe about driving drunk that he’s given us a million times before, only this time it was complete with statistics about the number of kids who die after graduation parties. Give me a break. I was so relieved when they finally left to drive back to Connecticut an hour ago. I’ve got all night to celebrate with no driving in sight until tomorrow. My shit’s already packed, and tomorrow morning, after I nurse a hangover for a few hours, Delilah and I will head home safe and sound.

  I text Cassidy again. Stay put. We’re coming to get you.

  I’M SO MAD by the time Wyatt picks me up, I can barely see straight. I slide into the backseat and growl. Yes, growl.

  “Thanks, you guys,” I manage. I reach for my seat belt, trying to avoid Wyatt’s gorgeous green eyes, which are currently filled with venom. He hates Kyle, and right this very second, I don’t blame him.

  “What’s his excuse this time?” Wyatt asks as I click my seat belt into place.

  I shrug. “Working late. He has my apartment key. Would you mind if we swing by to pick it up?”

  Delilah turns around, tucks her blond hair behind her ear, and looks at me like she feels sorry for me. Her green eyes are almost as pretty as Wyatt’s, only his are a shade darker, and when I look at him, there’s always mischief playing behind his eyes. Delilah’s are…I don’t know…more innocent, I guess.