So Much More (Made for Love #3)

by R. C. Martin

  I bolt upright, now completely aware that I’ve overslept. Then I remember my phone is ringing. I see Brandon’s name light up the screen and I answer it before it goes to voicemail.

  “Hello?”

  “Morning, Sunshine.”

  It dawns on me, as his voice drifts into my ear, that if I overslept—he let me. “About that—I should have been awake before the sunshine. Why didn’t you wake me? What time is it?”

  “It’s just after six. I set the alarm earlier this morning, assuming you’d want to stop at home before heading into work; only, you slept through it. I don’t know if you have any idea how you look when you sleep, but I couldn’t make myself wake you. I’d already done one dreadful thing this morning, I wasn’t going to be selfish and do another.”

  “What was the first?”

  “I left you in that bed alone.” My heart flutters as I bunch his sheets up in my fist and tuck them under my chin. “Now I do need you to wake up. Think you can be in by seven?”

  “Yes,” I tell him, climbing out of his bed. As soon as my feet hit the floor, I feel it—or, at least, I think I feel how he must have felt this morning. It’s not my bed, no, but even after one night, it holds very fond memories. “Brandon?” I murmur.

  “Yeah, sweet girl?”

  “Do I need to take a mental picture of this bed as a parting memento? Or do you think maybe I’ll—”

  “Sarah, I’m not a monk, a saint, or a pharisee. I’m just a guy. A guy who’s crazy about you. You’re welcome back any time.”

  “Okay.”

  “So, I’ll see you in an hour?”

  “Yes. But Brandon, if this relationship is going to work, you can’t give me preferential treatment. Next time, you have to wake me.”

  “Say that again.”

  I tilt my head, my confusion pulling at my brow. When I remember that he can’t see my face I ask, “Say what again?”

  “If this relationship is going to work—say that again.”

  Now I smile. “Brandon,” I say sweetly. “If this relationship is going to work, you can’t—”

  “Did you hear that?”

  What I can hear is the grin on his face. It’s in his voice.

  It makes me grin, too.

  “Hear what?”

  “We’re in a relationship. You know what that means?”

  “Tell me.”

  “You’re my girl first, my employee second. I’ll see you in an hour. Lock the door on your way out.”

  He hangs up before I can argue.

  For a whole minute, I just stand in the middle of his apartment grinning like a fool. I’m so damn happy, I can hardly believe it. Neither can I keep it to myself. I open a new text and type out a message to the first person who pops into my head.

  Me: Because I know you’ll kill me if I wait and tell you tonight when I see you…

  Me: 1) I’ve still got my V-card but… 2) I slept in Brandon’s arms last night and… 3) There may have been an orgasm (or two) before we fell asleep.

  After I hit send, I hurry to my pile of clothes and slip into my jeans. I decide there’s no way in hell Brandon is ever getting this shirt back, so I shove my top into my purse as I leave. Just as I’m starting up my car, my phone rings. I answer, putting the caller on speaker as I back my way out of my parking space.

  “Hello?”

  “Only one thing can get me out of bed this early and that’s an orgasm. Usually mine. In this case, I’m willing to make an exception,” says Aria in place of hello. “Did he use his fingers? Or is tongue? God—I bet he’s good with his tongue. He looks like he’d be good with his tongue.”

  I laugh, shaking my head at her.

  Only Aria.

  “No fingers. No tongue. Just friction,” I admit.

  If I were having this conversation with anyone else, I might feel completely bashful. But not with Aria.

  Only Aria.

  “Really? That’s hot. That also means you’ve got lots to look forward to. So, what’s the deal? Are you two an item or what?”

  “Yeah, I guess we are.”

  “Eek! I’m still kind of half sleeping, so I’m curled up on the couch, but really I’m doing a happy dance on the inside.”

  “I appreciate your enthusiasm,” I laugh.

  “When are we all going out again?”

  “I don’t know. He told me this weekend it was just going to be us—so maybe next weekend?”

  “Yeah. Keep me posted. And don’t be one of those lame girls who disappears once she gets a boyfriend, got it? Friends with vaginas are necessary.”

  “I promise.”

  We chat for just a couple more minutes and then we disconnect with plans to meet up for kickboxing later. When I get home, I race inside and jump in the shower really quick. Deciding that I don’t want to deal with wet hair this morning, I skip shampooing my locks, cutting my shower time in half. Just as I’m making my way out of the bathroom in nothing but a towel, I almost run right into Sage.

  “Fuck—sorry!” he mutters, holding up his hand to shield his eyes. “Brandon’ll have my balls if he finds out I saw his girl naked.”

  “I’m not naked!” I protest, clutching my towel around me tighter.

  “And I didn’t see you! What are you doing here, anyway?”

  My mouth falls open as I’m feeling equal parts shocked and overexposed. “Uh—what are you doing here? I live here!” I sputter.

  “I thought you weren’t home.”

  “I thought Millie wasn’t returning your calls.”

  He peeks around his hand instead of lowering it and flashes me a smirk. “I told you—she digs this,” he says, gesturing to his body.

  I can’t help but smile, both amused and happy for him. “Well, good for you.”

  “Now I just have to get her to go out with me. On a real date. Sure you can’t be of any help?”

  “I’ll see what I can do,” I agree with a nod.

  “Yes! Thank you!” He holds up his hand and I give him a high-five.

  “Sage?” I ask, his excitement having obviously distracted him.

  “Yeah?”

  “I’m not making any promises, but I definitely can’t do anything as long as I’m standing here wrapped in my towel.”

  “Right. Sorry,” he mutters, stepping aside so that I can pass.

  “And I’m not done in there, so make it snappy.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Fifteen minutes later, I’m ready to face the day. I’m also more than ready to see Brandon. The short ride into Old Town feels long and when I finally get out of my car, I find myself walking faster than usual. I let myself into LB and sigh happily when I’m overwhelmed by the glorious smell that is the evidence of Brandon’s hard work this morning.

  Even though I’m sure he doesn’t mind, I feel a little guilty that I wasn’t around to help. While I was sleeping between his sheets, he was up before the sun, baking. I’m going to have to make sure this doesn’t happen again—no matter what he says.

  When I enter the kitchen, he looks up at me right away. The smile he gives me makes my flesh break out in goose pimples. I don’t know why this smile in this moment hits me like none other, but it’s in this instant that I realize…

  I’m falling in love with him.

  My heart jumps for joy as he makes his way toward me and pulls me into his arms. Before he utters a single syllable, his lips are pressed against mine and his tongue is sweeping through my mouth. He kisses me so well, I almost forget where I am. Then, too soon, he’s pulling away from me.

  “Morning, beautiful.”

  “Hi.”

  One syllable. That’s all I can manage to get out is one syllable.

  “I’ve still got some baking left to do. Ready to jump in?”

  I grin up at him, amazed by the fact that this guy is mine. “First, you let me sleep in. Then, you offer me an hour filled with baking? You must really like me.”

  “Sunshine—you have no idea.”

&nbs
p; I KNEW WHEN I woke up this morning that I’d be bringing Sarah home with me tonight. The memory of her in my bed, nestled in my arms, is growing dull around the edges. I’ve replayed it to the point of exhaustion and yet I’m still losing the details. While I remember the look on her face when she came undone just by rubbing against me, my dick won’t be fooled into believing my hand can compare to the way she felt on top of me, no matter how hard I try. Then there’s also the unfortunate reality that over the last three nights, the scent of her on my sheets has faded. I want it back. I want her back.

  Tonight.

  She’s coming home with me tonight.

  Tonight’s also the first night I’m going to let her close up without me. She’s been bugging me about it for long enough. It’s not that I don’t trust her—it’s just hard to break my routine. With our date later, leaving early will allow me the chance to bike home, shower, and get a few things done before I pick her up.

  “You’re sure you don’t have anymore questions?” I ask her for the tenth time.

  She rolls her eyes before she answers. “We’re going to be fine. I don’t have any questions. I’ve got this! If something goes wrong—which it won’t—I know how to get ahold of you. So get out of here.”

  “Yeah. Okay.”

  She reaches around me and grabs my helmet from off of my desk. She lifts herself up on her tiptoes and places it on my head. Now it’s my turn to roll my eyes. Since I got my bike fixed, she’s been adamant about my wearing the damn thing.

  “I’ll see you in a little bit.”

  “Yes, you will.” I start to make my way out of the office but then turn back. “Pack an overnight bag.”

  Her eyebrows shoot up in surprise, but the smile that lights up her face can’t be misinterpreted. “Why, Mr. King, what might you be suggesting?” she teases.

  I wrap my arm around her waist and pull her against me, lowering my lips until they’re grazing her ear. “My pillow doesn’t smell like you anymore,” I whisper. “We won’t do anything you’re not ready for, but this is not a suggestion. I don’t even care if all we do is sleep—but you will be waking up with me in the morning.”

  I can feel it when she shivers and presses herself against me. A sly smile curls my lips before I press a kiss against her neck.

  “Okay, you’ve got to get out of here,” she mumbles, pushing me away. “Before you make me forget everything you’ve been hounding me about all night and I forget to lock something or something.” She shakes her head, as if to clear it, and I grin at her. “Go! I mean it.”

  “I’m gone,” I chuckle, backing my way out of the office. “I’ll pick you up at ten.” She nods and then I’m out the door.

  Ten o’clock at night isn’t exactly the most ideal time to start our date, especially considering our five a.m. wake up call. Thankfully, Sarah doesn’t seem to mind. Not that I’m surprised by her understanding. These days, her schedule looks almost identical to mine. It’s one of the things that makes us work as well as we do. She appreciates that Little Bird is not just the place I go to work everyday, it’s a part of who I am. Not only does she respect it, but she’s invested in it as well.

  Every time I see her, I wonder how I got so lucky. She’s like a gift from heaven. She showed up at exactly the right time and I couldn’t be more grateful. I don’t care what anyone says, it doesn’t matter that we’ve only really known each other for two weeks, I’m certain that I can’t imagine life without her anymore. I can’t and I won’t.

  Tonight is our first date. I intend to make it one worth remembering. Before I stop at home, I take a trip to the grocery store to pick up a few things for us to have for breakfast in the morning. By the time I get home, I’ve got an hour and a half until I need to leave to pick up my girl. It takes me a half an hour to get ready. I’m tempted to call the bakery to see how they’re doing. I smile, knowing Sarah would chastise me for even thinking about it.

  Instead, I call Daphne.

  “Is this an update call? Because if it’s not, if you haven’t kissed her, I’m hanging up on you. I’ve got a novel I’m trying to finish writing and Care-Bear is finally asleep. I have this much energy left—I won’t waste it on you if you haven’t kissed her.”

  “Well, hello to you too, Daph.”

  “You think I’m kidding? You obviously don’t have children. You have until the count of three—”

  She starts counting and my laughter won’t be contained. “Okay!” I cry out before she can hang up on me. “Yes. We’ve kissed. Many times, now. In fact, I should probably apologize for not calling you sooner.”

  “Fuck yes! So you’ve kissed more than once? That’s great. Tell me you’re going out with her tonight. Tell me that I still have a friend out there whose Saturday night doesn’t consist of binkies and diapers.”

  “I think you and Trevor need a date night,” I chuckle.

  She frees a loud sigh. “I love my daughter with all my heart, you know I do; but I swear, she knows exactly when mommy’s trying to get laid, at which point she decides it’s a marvelous time to scream. She’s not wrong—except I should be the one screaming.”

  I throw my head back in laughter. “Doesn’t she have an aunt and uncle who might be able to help you out with that?”

  Now she groans pathetically. “Yes. And they’ve offered. But a part of me is afraid to be away from her for too long. It’s only been four months. What if she needs me?”

  I know it’s not the same thing, but I think about LB. I think about everything that I left undone before I left tonight. I think of all the things that could go wrong tomorrow because I didn’t stay to prep for the one day of the week that I’m not at work from before dawn until after dusk. Then I think of the capable hands I’ve left to man my baby and I know that everything will be alright.

  “They love her, Daph. That’s all she really needs—to be left in the hands of people you know will love and protect her almost as much and as well as you do. One night—one date—one great lay—you can handle it. You all can.”

  “You’re right. Damn—you’re absolutely right.”

  “Don’t sound so shocked,” I tease.

  “You’ll have to excuse me, I’m officially out of brain power. If I fall asleep while you’re talking to me, don’t be offended. I need more Brandon-hearts-Sarah details. Lay them on me.”

  I talk to her for a few minutes, telling her about the week we’ve had—skipping the intimate details. I describe the date I’ve got planned and she murmurs her approval distractedly. She really does fall asleep, which I find incredibly amusing, and I’m not the least bit offended. By the time I disconnect from the call, I see I’ve managed to kill another half an hour. Even still, it’s only a quarter after nine. At this point, I’m too anxious to sit around. I decide to hop in my car, make one more stop, and then pick up Sarah.

  Rachael and I close up Little Bird without a hitch and I’m home by nine thirty—which is barely enough time to do anything. Suddenly, I’m wondering why I agreed to a ten o’clock pick up time.

  Because any later and you would have gone crazy missing him, my heart informs me.

  It sounds like an exaggeration, but it’s really the pathetic truth.

  Who says it’s pathetic? Why not romantic?

  Okay. Pathetic. Romantic. Endearing. Whatever. I don’t have time to dwell on it as I have just thirty minutes to take the quickest shower ever and pretty myself up.

  Thank God I washed my hair this morning.

  My shower is more of a quick rinse and frantic shave. I’m out—without a cut to gripe about—in precisely seven minutes. I manage to lather myself with lotion in three, which is better than the four it takes for me to find the lacy pink panties that match the bra I’ll be wearing tonight.

  I may be a virgin, but that doesn’t mean I don’t know how to treat myself. Every woman should own pretty underthings. Whether or not I take the time to match my panties and my bras on a regular basis, however, is a different story. Not that I have a
ny particular plan to show off the underwear I took the time to match tonight.

  Then again—I don’t have a plan to not show them off, either.

  Removing them, on the other hand…

  As I pull my baby-blue t-shirt over my head, I replay what Brandon said to me before he left LB.

  We won’t do anything you’re not ready for…

  I tug at my shirt, making sure it’s straight. The fabric clings to my figure, the wide neck allowing me to show off just enough cleavage to be alluring but not slutty. I slip on my printed skirt, tucking in my shirt before strapping on my oversized belt. It matches the killer wedged sandals I plan on wearing tonight.

  Once I’m dressed, I’ve got ten minutes to do my face and pack my overnight bag.

  My stomach tingles as I remember the rest of what Brandon whispered into my ear earlier.

  …you will be waking up with me in the morning.

  My heart begs the question—but will I still be a virgin when I wake up?

  Okay, yes, part of the reason I’ve waited so long to have sex is because I’ve always been taught that I need to wait until I get married. It’s what us church-folks do. But I made the decision with Luke—I made the decision that I didn’t want to wait anymore. In the bible it talks about not awakening your sexual desire before its time, but I thought Luke had awakened it and I was ready. I was most certainly wrong about Luke being the one, but now I have Brandon and—Good Lord—he’s awakened a part of me I don’t even recognize.

  I want him.

  It’s not just the horny princess in me talking, either. The fact that he wants me just as much—it makes me feel more sexy and desirable than I ever imagined I could feel. I don’t think I can ignore that. I don’t want to squander it. I don’t want to stifle it. I want to embrace it—I want Brandon to have it, to have me.

  I’m falling in love with him. Call me crazy. Crazy. Infatuated. Hopeless. Whatever. I’m not a liar and neither is my heart. It doesn’t matter what anyone says, what matters is how I feel—how Brandon makes me feel. In barely two weeks, he’s somehow taken my aching heart and made it race again.