Best Of My Love (Home to Green Valley Book 4)

by Virna DePaul

  In a flash, her panties were gone. It was a thrill, being practically naked under the open sky, and it added to the pleasure she felt as Riley quickly donned protection before positioning himself between her legs and sliding his thick length inside her waiting body.

  “Yes!” she whispered, accepting him joyfully, wrapping her legs around him to hold him fast.

  “Whatever you want, baby… I’m all yours. Every part of me,” he groaned.

  Erica closed her eyes, turning her head to the side to hide the tears of joy he inspired. She moved against her body against his, matching the slow, sensual pace of his grinding hips. Once the tears passed, Erica looked up into Riley’s face. She explored him with her hands, stroking his neck, his dear face. She ran the tips of her fingers over his mouth, and he sucked them in time with his thrusts. She moaned, her insides quivering in response.

  “So good…” she moaned raggedly, closing her eyes again to concentrate on the pleasure flowing through her. Soft waves washed over her body, slowly getting bigger and bigger. Just when she was sure it couldn’t get better, he’d thrust into her again and send her higher than before.

  It was total pleasure, and it seemed to go on and on. She wished they could make love like that forever. Just the two of them on a beautiful day. She pulled him even closer with her legs, needing to take all of him inside her. Needing more of him, forever.

  The knot of pleasure in her core got even tighter, threatening to overcome her. Erica screamed softly, pressing her mouth against Riley’s shoulder to muffle the noise. Her body convulsed around him from the inside out, squeezing hard before finally relaxing.

  “Oh…Riley…” She came down slowly, as he kissed her forehead, cheeks, chin. Then her lips. They kissed long and deep. All the while he stroked, gently, still moving in and out in a slow, steady rhythm. His breath came in short little gasps as he tried to hold himself back. She knew he wanted to take her, own her, consume her. She wanted to give that to him, too.

  “Take me,” she whispered, holding him close again. “Give it to me, baby.”

  Something behind his eyes leaped to life. He gritted his teeth and slammed into her. She gasped, trembling. “Yeah,” she whispered, staring in to his deep blue eyes. “Give it to me again. Hard.”

  “Fuck,” he grunted, slamming again…again…faster. She grunted along with him, riding him as he rode her, moving against him. Their bodies came together in a slapping sound, over and over, as passion overtook them once more.

  It was happening again. She couldn’t believe it. The familiar tightening, the overwhelming sensation of reaching the top of a peak…then she cried out again, as Riley’s thrusts turned frantic and her muscles clenched down around him.

  “Yes!” she cried out, tensing all around him.

  A few thrusts later, Riley groaned into Erica’s shoulder as he climaxed. “Shite…you’re amazing…”

  Erica smiled over his shoulder, holding him close to her. It was the best compliment she could imagine.

  She stroked the back of his neck, chuckling to herself. “Now I know why you brought me here and plied me with all that food. You wanted me to have the strength for this.”

  He pushed himself up on his hands, grinning down at her. “The protein was for me, love. The wine was to make you more amenable.”

  Erica smirked. “I thought you were against taking advantage of women who have too much to drink.”

  “You’re a little person, but I don’t think even one glass of wine would be too much for you. Smart ass.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Riley sat in the pub, half-listening to Quinn going on and on about overhead and operating costs and profit-and-loss reports. Most of it went over his head on a regular day, when he actually tried paying attention. When his thoughts were a mile away, back at the picnic with Erica, it was even more difficult.

  “Earth to Riley,” Quinn grumbled.

  Riley didn’t move until Sean smacked him upside his head.

  Riley swatted at him. “Oy! What’d you do that for?”

  Sean gestured to Quinn, who had a scowl on his face.

  “Sorry to bother you with this boring nonsense about our business,” Quinn said. “I’m sure your own thoughts are much more important than anything I have to say about your future.”

  “Calm down,” Riley grumbled, sitting up straight. “I’m listening.”

  “Sure, ya are,” he smirked. “Tell me what I just said, then, about the profits for the last seven months.”

  Brady snorted. “He could be looking at the books and not make heads or tails.”

  Ordinarily Riley would have resented that remark—numbers were never his strong suit, since his school days—but he was glad for it then.

  “The last time I checked, brother,” Riley reminded him, “I’m in charge of putting arses in the stools. Last I checked, we haven’t had a slow night since we opened. I’m doing my job.”

  “Aye, by flirting with the customers,” Sean joked.

  “Like you’re one to talk.”

  “Yeah, well, try not to break too many hearts.” Quinn sounded more like their mam with each passing day, Riley thought.

  “Are you feeling quite well?” Brady asked. “You haven’t been yourself lately.”

  “It seems like you’re living in outer space,” Sean added. “And you’re always sneaking about, coming in late at night, leaving early in the morning. What gives?”

  They all stared at him.

  “I wish I’d known I was facing a firing squad today. I’d have brought my own blindfold and cigarettes,” Riley grumbled.

  “What is it, man?” Brady asked.

  “Nothing, really. I’m fine. I haven’t been feeling myself, you’re right, but it’s nothing serious.”

  “I bet I know what it is,” Brady teased.

  “Pray tell,” Riley muttered.

  “A woman,” Brady guessed.

  The three of them chuckled.

  “Uh-oh. Has Cupid’s arrow found our brother’s heart?” Sean asked, his knowing gaze on Riley even as he played along. If Sean hadn’t struck so close to the truth, Riley would have laughed along with them. Instead, he glowered at Sean and remained silent.

  More laughter.

  “Shut it,” he warned them.

  “That’s not a denial,” Brady said.

  “No, he’s just getting over Lucy. It’s too soon to love again,” Quinn said.

  They couldn’t get enough of making fun at his expense, it seemed. He suffered their jokes in silence. Anything was preferable to them knowing the truth. Quinn would lose it if he knew Riley was messing around with Erica.

  The laughter died down, and the meeting went on. Riley did his best to pay attention, wanting to avoid more jeers. After what felt like forever, he stood and stretched once all business was covered.

  He sensed Sean trying to get his attention, and he deliberately avoided noticing him. He wasn’t at all pleased with the way Sean had taunted him—of the three of them, he would have expected it from Sean the least. He was Riley’s twin. He was supposed to have his back.

  “I’m sorry for what happened back there,” Sean said, once it was clear Riley was pissed. “Don’t be mad at me.”

  “I didn’t appreciate it, is all,” Riley said, taking inventory of the bottles behind the bar and making notes on a clipboard.

  “I know, and that’s why I’m apologizing. But you can’t blame them. They sense something’s up, just like I did. You’ve been so absent. Even when you’re around, it’s like you’re not around. Is it just you can’t stop thinking of her, or is something troubling you?”

  “It’s both. I can’t stop thinking of her. And that’s what’s troubling. I’m crazy for her, Sean. Like bloody mad for her. I think I’m in love with her.”

  “You think? You don’t know?”

  “I don’t think I’ve ever loved a woman before. I’ve certainly never told one I did.”

  “Not even Lucy?”

  “No
pe. Not even her, and we were together, even discounting the times we weren’t together, for years. With Lucy, it was always so tumultuous. With Erica, it’s easy. It almost seems too easy, you know? I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

  “You’re just superstitious given all the shit that happened to us. Rhian. Mam and Dad.”

  Yes, losing Brady’s baby girl and their mam and dad had been traumatic and would make any one leery of losing another loved one, but was that what this was? Or was Riley just getting sucked into the changes he’d seen in Quinn, Brady, and Conor since they’d fallen in love, wanting that for himself?

  At least he had Sean to talk about it.

  “Do you think it’s just wistful thinking? Because of the others finding such great women?”

  Sean shrugged. “I don’t know. I can’t deny they’ve fallen one after the other. And well, you know how I feel about my professor, Juliana Madison. There’s something different about her. Something I’m bent on exploring as soon as the semester is over. But I’m assuming you’ve had a chance to spend some quality time with Erica, even if it hasn’t been a lot of time. What do you think?”

  It was such a relief to be able to talk about her with someone, finally. “I don’t know. She’s a grand girl. We all know that. I like spending time with her.”

  “More than Lucy?”

  God, why couldn’t his brothers stop talking to him about Lucy? He was over her. Completely and utterly. He’d never felt about Lucy the way he felt for Erica. “Much more. It’s totally different. She’s a different sort of person. Lucy was fun. She was a teenage girlfriend, if you see what I mean. The sort of girl you go with while you’re in school. Erica is another story. She has it together, she knows what she wants.”

  “Yeah, but she wants you. That doesn’t bode well for her.”

  “Thanks.” Riley punched him in the arm, then stood. He felt a hundred times better than he had before they talked.

  “Your secret’s safe with me,” Sean assured him. “I won’t tell, mainly because I don’t want to see Erica lose her job here. She’s great.”

  “I agree. So we’ll keep it between us. Thank you for that.”

  “Any time.” Sean went back to work, and Riley sighed in relief. It felt good, unburdening himself like that. He knew he could trust Sean, even if it meant keeping the truth from their older brothers.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “What’s all this?” Erica looked around the inside of The Stylish Irish, hands on her hips. She had never seen it decorated like this before. Normally, it was a fun, warm, inviting place filled with old pictures, memorabilia from Ireland, and other décor which made the customers feel as though they were in the middle of a real, authentic Irish pub.

  Tonight was another story. There were balloons and crepe paper, streamers, and a big cake in one corner of the room. Erica glanced around the room, searching out one O’Neill brother after another, looking for answers.

  Her eyes widened when she caught sight of familiar faces, including Anna Kincaid, Brady’s girlfriend. Even Lilly Parker, Quinn’s girlfriend, was there. At least, what Erica could see of her, seeing as how she was wrapped in Quinn’s arms where he leaned against one of columns that separated the restaurant from her bakery space. He was currently kissing the hell out of her, and it didn’t look like they’d be coming up for air anytime soon.

  Finally, Erica saw Madlyn Sanchez, a beautiful, curvy brunette, laughing at a table with her son, Jax, who was currently making silly faces at his mother.

  “Good day, Erica. Hope you’re well?”

  Erica turned to see Conor O’Neill, Riley’s middle brother, standing next to her.

  “Conor!” She gave him a quick hug. “I am, thanks. And you?”

  “Doing fabulous, love. Thank you.”

  He was doing fabulous. It radiated from every pore of his body how happy he was. He didn’t come to the restaurant often—he lived with Madlyn and Jax in San Francisco, and would soon be opening his own massage parlor, The Relaxation Cove. The fact he, Lilly, and the others were here, in addition to all the décor, indicated it was a special day indeed.

  “It’s our dad’s birthday,” Brady explained from the other side of her, his voice gruff.

  Erica’s face fell, and she immediately went to him to give him a hug.

  “I’m sorry,” she murmured. She looked around at all the brothers, trying to communicate her condolences with her expression.

  “Nothing to be sorry for, lass.” Brady squeezed her, then grinned. “We’re celebrating the man, after all.”

  “Oh, I see. So it’s not an unhappy day?”

  “Not hardly,” Sean interjected, doing one more sweep of the floor before taking down the chairs.

  Erica helped him. “I have to admit,” she murmured discreetly, “I’ve never seen a birthday party for a deceased person before.”

  Quinn spoke from behind her, having finally managed to tear his lips away from Lilly’s. She was still nestled in the crook of his arm, however, blushing and looking deliriously happy.

  “I wouldn’t call it traditional, per se, but it’s something we decided to do for our dad. We’ll do the same for Mam, too.”

  The reverence with which the boys spoke of their parents made it clear how much they loved and respected them. At least they’d been able to make the best of a terrible situation by moving to America and starting their business.

  Riley entered the room. Erica averted her eyes, trying to play it cool even though her heart leaped at the sight of him. It was getting more difficult to hold herself back when it came to him.

  There was concern around his mouth, his eyes. Tension was visible in every part of his body, a clear signal to give him all the room he needed. Was it because of his father’s birthday, or something else?

  Erica busied herself with work around the pub, getting everything ready to open for the evening. They were planning a blowout, and she needed to be prepared with an extra-full cooler and extra glasses.

  As soon as the doors opened, the room filled. Most customers didn’t know it was a special celebration, but they were all too happy to get in on the action. Within an hour, the beer flowed and the music carried everyone along on waves of nostalgia. They were all old songs, the music Mr. O’Neill listened to in his youth. The songs he’d make his sons listen to as they grew up.

  “Ach, I remember all the Sunday mornings after church,” Sean said, handing out pint glasses filled with rich, dark ale. “Dad would turn on his old Frank Sinatra records and they’d play all day. I don’t even think they were his records, were they?”

  “They were his dad’s,” Quinn replied.

  “Right. He loved them. I can’t hear Sinatra now without thinking about Sunday afternoons.” Sean smiled gently, his eyes filled with memories. Brady, meanwhile, stood in the middle of a group of regulars, telling a story about his father’s legendary strength. He was the strongest man in his village, evidently, and in his youth was the heartthrob among all the girls. “On Saturday nights, they’d go out in big groups. The girls would clamor for the chance to have him lift them on his shoulders, just to have the excuse to be close to him. He’d laugh about that with mam, thinking it made her jealous. She’d humor him, but would roll her eyes behind his back as soon as he turned around.” The group broke out in laughter.

  “She must’ve been special, then, to catch his eye over all the others,” someone said.

  “Aye,” Quinn called out. “They met when he came to America. And he was of course taken in by her beauty.”

  “Here.” Sean took the wedding picture down from behind the bar to show around.

  Erica had often admired it. There was so much of the boys in the faces of their parents, from the beautiful shape of their mother’s eyes—only Brady had inherited their stunning blue color—to the strong jaw and easy smile of their father.

  Sean seemed to have a handle on the customers, so Erica tapped him on the shoulder and asked for a break. He was accommodatin
g, as always, and she slipped out through the kitchen door. Compared to the raucous noise around the bar, the kitchen seemed almost silent. She leaned against the wall once out of sight and sighed, wiping the back of her hand across her forehead.

  There was Riley, helping at the fryer. She had never seen him there before—it was always Brady handling such work. Riley was normally behind the bar, or working the room. She approached, hesitant but curious.

  “Why aren’t you out there, with your brothers?” she asked quietly. “You haven’t spoken a word to them, or me, all night. Did I do something wrong?”

  He glanced at her with a smirk, then shook his head. “Of course not. What could you possibly have done? You’re wonderful.”

  She didn’t know whether or not to take him seriously. His voice was thick with sarcasm. “What is it, then? Can you tell me about it?”

  “I’d rather not,” he admitted. “If you don’t mind.”

  “I don’t mind. I just felt like…well, like I should ask. You deserve to have somebody care about how you feel.” With those simple words, Erica turned. She intended to step outside for a breath of air.

  “What does that mean?”

  She turned back to find Riley with his hands on his hips. She frowned. “I mean what I said. You deserve to have somebody care. Don’t we all want that, really? Somebody to care whether or not we’re happy or unhappy?”

  He smirked. “You make it sound very easy, you know.”

  “What’s so hard about it? I don’t understand. I care about you. I see you looking upset, I notice you putting distance between yourself and your customers tonight. It’s natural for me to want to check with you, to see if there’s anything you need to talk about. I don’t think it’s so abnormal.”

  He was torn, she saw, between wanting to open up and wanting to keep up his stubborn attitude. She smiled softly, letting him off the hook by turning away. Stepping outside as she’d originally planned, Erica took a deep breath of fresh air. It was a relief after the warmth inside the pub—all those bodies created a lot of heat, as did rushing back and forth behind the bar, of course.