Rainy Day Friends

by Jill Shalvis

  “Guess she solved her real-world problems,” Sam said quietly.

  Lanie grimaced. How to stand up for the girls without hurting any good memories of their mom they might have? “Some people aren’t as good at . . . managing their problems,” she said. “It doesn’t mean they don’t love you.”

  Sam didn’t say anything to this.

  Lanie ached for them and knew any of the Capriottis would’ve known what to say. So of course they got stuck in traffic getting home. She finally pulled off the freeway and into a drive-through and got them all burgers and fries, which greatly improved morale. As did the toys that came in the kids’ meals.

  It took them an hour to get back to the winery, and buoyed by the food, the girls used the time to barrage Lanie with questions such as “Why do socks come off in the middle of the night?” and “Why do daddies sometimes send you to your room for singing the alphabet song over and over?” and “Why do boys get to have a penis and we don’t?”

  By the time they got back, Lanie needed aspirin. And possibly alcohol.

  Mark drove up just as they did. He got out of his truck, hugged and kissed the girls, and sent them inside. He looked at Lanie, his eyes hidden behind his dark aviator glasses. “How in the world did you get stuck with the dreaded Friday afternoon dance-class duty?”

  “I volunteered.”

  “Thank you. I’ll pay you for your time—”

  “No, it’s fine. Really,” she said. “It wasn’t a problem.”

  “Then how about dinner? Or a movie? Whatever you want.”

  Whatever she wanted sounded like a very dangerous proposition since the first thing that came to mind was more of his mouth on hers. The second thing that came to mind gave her a serious hot flash. “There’s no repayment necessary,” she said. “I wanted to do it and I did it, period. Just . . . don’t take it for something it’s not.”

  “Okay.” One corner of his mouth quirked. “So I scare you that much, huh?”

  She opened her mouth and then closed it because yes. He scared her that much. He held her gaze for one long moment before giving her a nod. Then, no longer smiling, he followed the girls inside, which was a good thing. She’d just put some badly needed distance between them, emotional distance. Shaking her head at herself, she leaned against her car, wanting a few minutes alone.

  Which was when she saw the nail in her tire. Perfect. When she finally went inside, she ran into Cora.

  “Just the person I wanted to see,” her boss said.

  “I’m not ready to decide on the contract extension,” Lanie said.

  Cora looked startled and then unhappy, but she just nodded. “I understand. But I was just going to thank you for getting my grandbabies.”

  Crap. Note number three to self: Always let Cora speak first!

  “We will of course pay you for your time,” Cora said.

  “Not necessary, but say I was looking for a place to have my car looked at, where would you recommend?”

  “You don’t need a place. Both Holden and Marcus are excellent mechanics. What’s wrong with your car?”

  Just what she didn’t need, more face time with Mark. “Nothing,” Lanie said. “No worries.”

  The next morning she got up early with the intention of driving her car to the closest gas station to see about getting the tire fixed.

  But it already was.

  She headed into the employee kitchen and found Mark leaning against the counter, mainlining coffee and thumbing through his phone.

  “Was it you?” she asked.

  He didn’t stop scrolling or look up. “You’ll have to be more specific.”

  She sighed. “You didn’t have to fix my tire.”

  “I know.”

  “So why did you?”

  Now he looked up, his eyes holding hers prisoner. “Because it needed to be done.”

  She was tired of circling around him. Tired of not knowing what to think or how to take him. It was exhausting. He was exhausting. “Fine. Thank you. What do I owe you?”

  He didn’t answer, just stood there, still leaning back against the counter, as calm as he pleased, wearing that uniform like he’d been born to authority.

  “Well?” she asked.

  “Are you really going to piss me off this early in the morning?”

  She tossed up her hands. “It’s a simple question. How much do I owe you?”

  He sighed and set his coffee aside. “There’s no repayment necessary. I wanted to do it and I did it. Period.”

  Look at him, throwing her own words back at her with absolutely zero inflection, which was more than she’d managed. And he’d left off the part about not taking it for something it wasn’t, which made her feel even more petty and mean. “I’d rather pay than owe you a favor.”

  “What part aren’t you getting here, Lanie?” He blew out a breath. “There is no price for what we give each other.”

  As she had absolutely zero idea how to take that, she was still standing there, mouth open, when his phone buzzed and he walked out of the room to take the call.

  River walked in, looking wary. “Sorry, I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop. I just wanted food.”

  Lanie sighed. “It’s okay. We were done anyway.”

  “You don’t like to accept favors,” River said. “I get it. You don’t want to owe people. They take advantage of you when you owe them favors.”

  “Yes.” Everything with Kyle had been a deal. Which actually had been fun and exciting for a while. If she’d wanted something, she’d have to trade favors for what he wanted. He’d take her out on a date if she’d promise to have car sex after. He’d go to the grocery store if she cooked his favorite dinner, and so on.

  It sounded so mercenary now, but it hadn’t felt that way at the time. He’d been fun-loving and affectionate and passionate.

  But in hindsight, he’d also been elusive, holding a part of himself back—much like her parents. And he’d made elaborate plans that he hadn’t always followed through with.

  Mark appeared to be his exact opposite in that way, but she’d been preprogrammed to not trust anyone who held something over her.

  River refilled Lanie’s cup. “You look like you need this caffeine more than I need a nap.”

  “Sometimes I feel like I landed on Mars here.”

  “Right?” River said with a little laugh, pressing her hand against her probably aching lower back. “It’s like the Nice Planet, but I keep waiting for the lights to come up and expose it for hell or something.”

  “Your back hurts,” Lanie said. “Sit down.”

  “No, I’ve got to refill the pot.”

  “I’ve got it. Sit the hell down. And that’s not me doing you a favor here on Nice Planet,” she said before River could protest. “It’s me not wanting you to go into labor because delivering a baby isn’t on my bucket list.”

  “You’re funny.” River’s smile faded. “And you know what else? You do belong here. On Nice Planet. I know you don’t think you do, but you totally do.”

  “Right back at you.”

  River shook her head. “No,” she said very softly. “I definitely do not.”

  Chapter 12

  I’m not necessarily always anxious. I’m just extremely well educated about all the things that can and will go catastrophically wrong.

  Sleep that night was not Lanie’s friend. She kept seeing Mark’s face when she’d asked how much she owed him for the tire fix. He’d been frustrated with her, and maybe hurt. Thinking about the ways she might make it up to him had led to a series of fantasies that had her giving up on finding any zzz’s. Hot and bothered, she slipped out of bed.

  It was a warm, moonless night, and restless, she slipped a pair of baggy sweats over her PJs and stepped outside. She walked to the end of the row of the cottages and around to the back of the big house where the real view of the valley was. Hoping to stay out of sight and just be alone to think, she slipped onto one of the plush lounge chairs at the very far edge of the
patio.

  There, she stretched out and tipped her head back to stare at the sky. She hadn’t missed much about Wildstone, but she had missed this night sky. It didn’t disappoint tonight, looking like a blanket of black velvet strewn with diamonds.

  She heard the sound of water and followed it past the house, down the trail that led to the small, hidden lake. Someone was swimming, someone long and leanly muscled who, though she didn’t want to admit it, was already in possession of a small corner of her heart.

  Mark finished a lap and met her gaze, his dark eyes and dark smile promising to take her places.

  She sat on the towel he’d clearly left for himself and returned his long look.

  Rising effortlessly out of the water, he came toward her. At her feet, he shook his head and sent water drops spiraling all over her, making her shiver. Water ran off his body in rivulets.

  He took her breath away.

  He stood over her for a moment before sprawling that big body of his out at her side for her viewing pleasure.

  And it was a pleasure. She’d seen it all the night they’d gone boogie boarding, but she still looked her fill. Anyone with warm blood in their veins would’ve done the same thing—

  “So just what kind of an asshole was your husband?” he asked.

  She froze. Not exactly what she wanted to talk about. She looked away from his all-seeing gaze and went back to stargazing. Discussing Kyle and what he’d done to her life—not to mention her confidence—was the last thing she wanted to do. “Why does it matter?” she asked warily. “He’s dead. It’s not relevant.”

  He waited for her to look at him again, and when she did, he simply raised a brow, making her sigh. “Okay, fine, it’s relevant, but to be fair, it’s not just you. I’ve got a chip on my shoulder for everyone. I’m an equal-opportunity chip-holder.”

  His mouth curved slightly. “Good to know.”

  She closed her eyes. “Have you ever wanted to believe in something so badly that you make it happen, except you’re the only one in it?”

  He was quiet for a long moment. Then his big hand reached for hers. “Yes.”

  She leaned into him, getting wet and not caring because he felt so good.

  “It hurts like hell,” he said, twisting to face her. “It’s why I’m not looking for love.”

  “Ever?” she asked before she could stop herself. He’d already told her this.

  Mark was quiet for a moment as his fingers ran along her temple at her hairline. “You’re definitely the exception on making me want more,” he said quietly. “But I’m not ready for love again, Lanie. My kids, they have to come first right now. I’m sorry.”

  This didn’t surprise her. Nor did it stop her from wanting him. “What are you willing to give?”

  “Everything but my heart. I’ve dated here and there, but I can’t be pushed to go where I don’t want to go.”

  She nodded. She got it. She did. He’d been hurt too and he had his girls to consider, but she couldn’t help but feel the very tiniest bit of disappointment. But it didn’t change anything for her. She wanted him. And the truth was, she wasn’t ready for love either. Not even close.

  “Is that enough for you?” he asked.

  Yeah. It was, and she gave a slow nod.

  He stood and pulled her up with him, giving her a chance to move away if she wanted. But apparently her body wasn’t at all as conflicted as her brain because she leaned into him. Then those big, warm hands of his were on her hips, pulling her in closer. He lowered his head so that his jaw rubbed against her cheek, like a big, wild cat approaching a possible mate.

  When she sighed in pleasure, he closed the nearly nonexistent gap between them and kissed her long and hard, lifting her up against him. She wound her arms around his neck and held him to her as they both dove in. When he pulled back, his eyes were dark, his voice so low as to be nearly inaudible. “Last chance,” he said quietly. “Go back to bed alone or stay here with me.”

  She didn’t go back. Instead she leaned in and licked a drop of water off his neck. When he stilled and closed his eyes, she took a nibble out of the same spot, sucking a patch of his skin into her mouth, smiling against him when he groaned. And then she tugged him down to the towel.

  He kneeled over her, his hands running up her spine, taking her sweatshirt with him. When he’d pulled it off, he took in her baby-blue camisole PJ top and said her name hoarsely.

  A few low clouds had slid over the moon, making the night even darker, causing a sense of isolation and intimacy. The water lapped softly near their feet, the only other sound being the pounding of her heart and the sound of her whispering his name on the wind.

  He buried his fingers in her hair, tugging lightly, exposing her neck. She could feel him, hot and hard against her, and her eyes fluttered closed as he played her like a fiddle. “Here, Lanie?” he murmured, voice husky and thick.

  She looked up and found herself staring into twin pools of dark desire. He wanted her, and she wanted him even if he had stupid rules about love, even if it was only for the moment. “Yes,” she whispered against his mouth, “here,” and he slid the camisole straps down her arms, nudging the thin material southbound until it caught on the very tips of her breasts. She sucked in a breath at the sensation and then he gave another nudge and she was bared to him.

  With a groan, he lowered his head, his mouth taking over for his fingers. And then he headed south, divesting her of all her armor as he went. Around them, the water continued to hit the rocky beach, a dissonant symphony of sound that mixed with her soft, desperate moans as he took her to head-spinning and heart-stopping heights. She came shockingly fast, and she might’ve been embarrassed about that if he hadn’t lifted his head and looked at her with eyes so hot she felt scorched. Wanting to give him some of what he’d just given her, she reached for him, but his fingers lightly circled her wrists, stopping her progress.

  She looked up at him and saw him smile in the darkness. He then rose to his feet and took a small step back as he untied his still-damp board shorts and pushed them off his lean hips. In the dim recesses of her mind she registered the wet thud as the shorts hit the ground behind him. Dropping to his knees between her legs, he braced himself over her, dipping his head to lick the skin of her collarbone, making her arch up off the towel. Reaching for him, she tried to tug him down to her, needing this. She expected him to be cool from the water, but he radiated heat and power and strength, and she craved more. “Please,” she breathed.

  With a groan, he dropped his head to her shoulder and squeezed his eyes shut tight. Then he rolled them so that she had the top all to herself. His hands went to her hips and rocked her against a most impressive erection and she started to lift up to take him inside her when he stopped her.

  “I don’t have a condom with me,” he said, voice strained.

  “Oh. Oh . . .” she murmured as understanding finally dawned. Looking down into his heated, hungry eyes, she realized that though she’d nearly forgotten to protect herself, he hadn’t, and some of the cold deep inside her warmed. “It’s okay,” she whispered and bent low to kiss his chest, stopping to lave first one nipple and then his other like he’d done to her.

  He groaned and tightened his grip on her, but she wriggled free to kiss his ridged ab muscles one by one as she too headed south.

  “Lanie, you don’t have to—”

  She drew him into her mouth and he stopped talking, switching to muttered oaths and groans and fractured gasped phrases that made her feel like the sexiest woman alive as she took him to the same place he’d taken her . . .

  THE NEXT MORNING, Lanie lay in her bed for a few extra moments, trying to decipher through her emotions to see how she felt about the incredible, erotically charged events of the night before.

  She smiled a little smugly and decided she felt good. Very good.

  An hour later she was at work, absolutely not reliving it all in her mind, like when he’d had his mouth on her—

  �
��Good morning,” Cora said and put a cup of coffee and a muffin on Lanie’s desk. “You busy? You look like you’re thinking very hard.”

  She felt herself blush and went with a distraction. “You’re bearing bribes. What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.”

  Just the day before she’d sent Cora the draft design for the new wine labels she’d been working on, and now she felt the anxiety grip her. Mark’s mouth forgotten—mostly—she stood up. “You hate them.”

  “What?” Cora looked baffled and then horrified. “No, oh my God, Lanie. I love the designs. I buried my lede, I’m sorry. I’ve passed all of it on to Owen and the others to see what they think, but you’re onto something, they’re gorgeous.” Then she hesitated. “But I guess I am trying to bribe you in some way.”

  “How?” she asked warily.

  “It’s been a week and I’m wondering if you’ve given any thought to staying longer and extending your contract.”

  Lanie inhaled a deep breath. “I don’t think I can.”

  “Are you . . . unhappy here?”

  “Actually, I love it here.” That also escaped before she could think. Dammit. She shut her mouth and drew in a careful, deep breath. “I mean, thank you. It’s incredibly kind that you’d offer me more work, but I need to get back eventually.”

  “To Santa Barbara.”

  “Yes,” Lanie said. “To Santa Barbara.” Where her life was. Well, her old life. The one she needed to work on.

  “You know what?” Cora said. “Let’s pretend this conversation didn’t happen, okay? So don’t say no now. You can keep thinking about it.”

  Lanie nodded, grateful. Because she did need to think. Santa Barbara was her home, it was where her life was, her friends. The friends she’d made with Kyle, which meant in the end they’d been no friends at all, disappearing almost as fast as everything else had. It was as if her life had been a fresh painting and then it’d rained, smearing that old life away to nothing but a soggy canvas.

  A soggy blank canvas.

  Cora left and Lanie returned to work. But several hours later, Cora was back.

  “Ready?” she asked Lanie.