Melt With Me: A With Me In Seattle Universe Novel

by Melissa Brown

  “Can you spearhead this? With my sisters arriving tomorrow, I’m feeling a little overwhelmed. I’ll text her to confirm, but I’m hoping you can figure out the details. This is where you shine.”

  “Already on it. I’m thinking we’ll need a signature cocktail to serve.”

  “No liquor license, remember?”

  “Ugh, a mocktail then….or maybe little purse- and shoe-shaped cookies…”

  “Both!” I said with a wink. “I know the perfect bakery…and we can develop the ‘mocktail’ together—something fruity yet sophisticated.”

  “Oh snap.” Lyra scratched the back of her neck and bit down on her lip. I could see all the wheels spinning. “Shit just got real.”

  “Do you have time for this? Tell me if you have too much on your plate, I mean it.” The last thing I wanted to do was overload her, knowing she was already juggling a lot with school and the responsibilities I’d given her during the holiday rush.

  “No, I’ve got this. Just getting ducks in a row, that’s all.”

  I paused for a moment before bringing up the topic I’d been dying to discuss since the dinner party at Peter’s place. “By the way, I’ve been waiting for you to address the elephant in the room.”

  Lyra looked around the shop inquisitively. “Huh?”

  “At Peter’s apartment, you said you were seeing someone.”

  “Oh.” Lyra’s lips froze in the “O” position, and I knew she was panicking.

  “C’mon, you can tell me anything.”

  She shook her head before glancing around us. Luckily, it was a Tuesday afternoon—our slowest time of day.

  “Not this.”

  “Try me.”

  “I’m a homewrecker.” I opened my mouth to speak, but she closed her eyes and raised a hand. “He’s separated, though, and I’ve seen proof. I’ve been to his place; it’s a total bachelor pad.”

  “He’s your professor, though… Isn’t that unethical?”

  “Yes, but not for much longer. We just have to keep it under wraps until then.”

  “And you’re okay with that?” I asked, trying not to sound judgmental. Internally, though, I was worried for her. I didn’t feel like either of us was equipped to deal with the baggage of a relationship with a separated man, let alone a man who was an authority figure in her life.

  “I am. I mean, I have to be. He makes me happy, Mare. I’m happy.” A satisfied smile crossed her lips.

  “Then I’m happy for you.”

  “Are you secretly judging me, though?” She wrinkled her nose. “We do that, you know.”

  I waved her away. “Not at all. If you hadn’t seen his place, I’d have my suspicions, but as long as you’re happy, then that’s all I want.”

  “Oh thank God, it was getting so hard to keep it a secret. I was so annoyed with Dev that I let it slip, and then I felt so guilty for not telling you sooner. I’ve been in a shame spiral, and it sucks.”

  “Does your professor have a name?”

  “Hudson,” she said, standing up straight and raising her chin proudly. “Hudson Arbendroth.”

  “Sexy,” I said with a nod. “Refined.”

  “I know, right?” Lyra hopped up on the counter and crossed her legs.

  “Like a fictional character in a romance novel.”

  “He wants to stop by the shop. I’ve been stalling, but now that you know…”

  I clapped my hands. “Yes. I want to meet this Hudson. I need to warn him…”

  Lyra rolled her eyes. “I know, I know. If he hurts me, you’ll kill him. If he’s not separated, you’ll eat his balls for breakfast. Yada, yada, yada.”

  “Actually, you little shit, I was going to warn him that you snore when you’ve had too many martinis and that he should never let you make anything with mayonnaise for a barbecue.”

  “One time! That was one time.”

  “Right.” I rolled my eyes. “Only one bout of food poisoning that sent three of us to the ER.”

  “Fine, fine, fine. Have your fun. Just know that Peter will get an earful once you’re done with Hudson.”

  “Oh really?” I licked my lips and crossed my arms in front of my chest. “Those sound like fightin’ words, Castillo.”

  “Bring it, Mercer.”

  “It. Is. On.”

  Breaking the news to Peter was going to be hard. We were having dinner together before my family arrived the next day and the holiday chaos began. We planned to spend the evening of the twenty-third with his parents, and he would spend Christmas Eve with my family. I would then sneak away for a few hours to see him on Christmas Day before spending the rest of the holiday playing games and watching holiday movies with my nieces and nephews. I was so excited for him to finally meet my sisters. Since I met his father first, it felt like an eternity had gone by without him meeting a member of my family, even though in reality, it had only been a couple of months.

  “You look gorgeous,” Peter said as he nuzzled my neck, kissing me gently just below my ear. He’d learned this was one of my most sensitive spots and used it to his advantage frequently.

  “Thanks,” I said, squeezing his hand before entering his apartment and removing my coat. “It smells freaking amazing in here…and familiar. What is that?”

  “Lyra gave me the recipe for her abuela’s enchiladas.”

  “Seriously? Those are my favorite,” I said, inhaling deeply.

  “I know they are,” Peter said with a confident smile as we walked into the kitchen hand in hand. “And for dessert….”

  “Oh Lord, tell me it’s arroz con leche. Pleeeeease.” He lifted me up to the counter, that grin still plastered across his proud face. “It is, isn’t it?”

  He opened the fridge and removed a small dish filled with the most incredible-looking dessert. I could see swirls of cinnamon in the milky white rice pudding.

  “Does it have—”

  “Raisins? Yes. Lyra said if I skipped those, she’d have to kill me.”

  “Yes!” I pumped my arm twice. “I’m not going to be able to move. You’re literally making my favorite meal ever. Her abuela is the best chef on the planet.”

  “Hopefully I’ll do it justice,” he said, placing the dish back in the fridge, the cool air tickled my calves.

  “I have no doubt,” I said, hopping off the counter and wrapping my arms around his neck. “I can’t thank you enough for this, Peter. This is just so thoughtful.”

  “De nada,” he said with a wink.

  “What else did Lyra teach you?”

  “You’ll just have to wait and find out.”

  How on Earth can I give him bad news now? After all of this?

  I decided to hold off on breaking our Valentine’s Day plans. I’d wait to see if it came up naturally during dinner conversation. There was no sense in putting a damper on such a special meal. Instead, I decided to match his surprises with one of my own. I ran to my purse and grabbed the box I’d been carrying around all day, so excited to finally place it in his hands.

  “Here,” I said, handing him the box.

  A look of surprise crossed his gorgeous face. “What’s this?”

  “Merry Christmas,” I said, kissing him gently on the lips. He smelled like cinnamon and freshly cut wood. Somehow Peter always managed to smell as handsome as he looked.

  He tore into the wrapping paper, tossing it over his shoulder and opening the small box. “Maren, oh my God.”

  Inside the box were three tickets to the Super Bowl. A major score that I was only able to get because of my sister, Moira. Her husband had won them and had zero interest in going.

  “How did you? When did you? Oh my freaking God, Maren!”

  “It’s a long story, but basically Moira’s husband, Bill, works for one of the sponsors. He won four tickets and a stay at a local hotel for three nights. Moira negotiated three tickets—I didn’t want you to have to choose between Dev and Scott.”

  “Wait, you’re not going with me?”

  “No.�
� I shook my head with a coy smile. “Are you kidding me? I need to get back on Dev’s good side after Dinner Party Gate.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “One hundred percent. Football is your thing with them; they should be with you. I’ll make Lyra watch with me, and we’ll search for you in the crowd.”

  “Holy shiiiiiiiiit!” He grabbed me and spun me around the room as he exclaimed with joy.

  “I have no idea who’s getting the fourth ticket, though, some friend of Bill’s who would have murdered him if he didn’t get it.”

  “I can’t believe this; I’m in shock.”

  “Hopefully Ekisaito won’t mind you taking a long weekend.” I gritted my teeth, knowing it was still early for him to be using vacation time at his new job.

  “I’m sure Shannon will understand. I mean, it’s the Super Bowl! I’m so blown away, Mare. I mean, my gift is nothing compared to this. I’m embarrassed, actually.”

  “Oh stop it. I mean, technically I cheated since I didn’t have to pay for these. I just know the right people.”

  “Best gift ever. I mean, for real. Its a dream come true…” He paused and placed his hands on my cheeks. “Just like you.”

  My cheeks grew hot with his compliment. I wanted to kiss him, but could see by the look in his eyes that he had more he wanted to say.

  “How can I ever thank you, Maren? Never in a million years did I think I’d ever get to go to this game. And with both of my best friends. I have to call them,. Is that okay? Dinner won’t be ready for a few minutes.”

  “Of course.” I planted a kiss on him. “I’ll set the table.”

  I pulled away to open the cabinets, but he didn’t let go of my hand. Instead, he tightened his grip and pulled me back into his arms. “You’re amazing, you know that? I’m so lucky.”

  He kissed me deeply, running his fingers through my hair as his tongue stroked mine. His lips tasted like his favorite cinnamon candy, and I couldn’t get enough of him. I pulled on the sides of his collar, thrusting my hips toward his. He moaned in response. “If you keep doing that, the food is going to burn.”

  “Don’t tempt me,” I whispered. My breathing was harsh as my desire for Peter continued to climb. I wanted him…badly.

  He kissed me again, lifting me up, his hands gripping my ass. I wrapped both legs around his waist and pulled his top lip in with my teeth, biting down ever so gently. He moaned again and walked me to the wall. He pressed me into the wood, and I felt him grind into my most sensitive spot.

  “I need to buy you football tickets more often,” I teased between kisses.

  One of his hands crept underneath my sweater and caressed the lace of my bra. “I want you…right now.”

  “But what about Scott…and Dev?”

  Peter pulled away and narrowed his eyes. “Are you thinking about Dev right now?” he teased, dropping his hand to reach inside my leggings and panties. His fingertips reached my clit, and I sighed heavily, tilting my head up to the ceiling.

  “You know who I’m thinking about,” I said, my voice dropping an octave as his fingers continued to stroke and tease my most sensitive spot. “You. Only you.”

  Peter buried his face in my neck, kissing, licking, and sucking as his skillful hands pushed me over the edge. I bit down on his shoulder as I came. He groaned in response.

  “Did I hurt you?” I whispered, feeling like putty in his strong hands, worried that my teeth may have pierced his skin. He pulled away and looked into my eyes.

  “Never,” he said with a smile.

  “That was….unexpected,” I said as he lowered me wobbly legs back to the floor.

  “Good,” he said, obviously proud of himself. “I like keeping you on your toes.”

  He kissed my forehead. “I’m going to check on the food. Why don’t you…get your bearings.” He chuckled as he winked. “And I need to give you your gift.”

  “I think you just did,” I joked as I steadied myself by placing my hands on the back of the nearest chair. “What about the guys? Don’t you want to call them?”

  “It can wait. Right now it’s all about you and me.”

  Euphoria filled my body and my heart as I gazed at the man I loved, willing myself to remember everything about this moment. His hair all in a mess, his shirt untucked and wrinkled, his lopsided grin and gentle voice—the way he gazed at me, like I was the most beautiful woman in the world. I wanted to remember it all. I watched him as he hustled around the kitchen, putting the finishing touches on the meal he’d obviously worked so hard on. I smelled the rich enchiladas as he pulled them from the steaming oven. I heard the familiar sound of Better Than Ezra playing in the background. And a tear formed in my eye as I stood and stared at him in awe, wondering how in the world I ever got so lucky as to fall in love with a man like Peter McTavish.

  Chapter 16

  PETER

  Even though I didn’t think my gift for Maren could ever compare to the tickets she gave me, I was pleasantly surprised by her reaction when she opened the simple red box. Interestingly enough, our gifts had a similar theme. I had purchased a spa weekend for her to enjoy with Lyra after a hectic and stressful holiday season. They could enjoy two nights at hotel downtown with massages, facials, and relaxing in fluffy robes while drinking cucumber water.

  She was ecstatic, hopping up and down on the balls of her feet, thanking me again and again. It was adorable.

  Tonight she was joining my parents for dinner. It was December twenty-third, and Lyra had volunteered to close the shop with the seasonal workers. Once she learned about the spa weekend, she was even more insistent that Maren leave early, and she sent me several texts thanking me for my generosity.

  Scott and Dev flipped when I told them about the tickets. Dev was speechless for possibly the first time ever. Scott immediately requested days off work and started looking at airfare, while Dev sat on my couch staring wide eyed at the wall. After about thirty minutes, Scott had booked our flights and Dev grabbed his phone, his fingers typing wildly for more than a minute.

  When he finished, he tossed his phone on the couch and simply said, “We’re going to the Super Bowl. The mothefucking SUPER BOWL!”

  I gestured to the phone. “What was that all about?”

  “Nothing. Unrelated.”

  I had a feeling it was a lie, but I didn’t care. We were going to the freaking Super Bowl!

  Maren later told me that he sent her the most grateful text she’d ever received. When I asked to read it, though, she pressed the phone to her chest and shook her head. And I respected that. Whatever Dev said, he was obviously allowing himself to be vulnerable, which was progress for my usually bitter, jaded friend. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t have a sense of pride over my girlfriend being the catalyst, because I did.

  Maren and I arrived at my parents’ house and were greeted by the sounds of Bing Crosby crooning “White Christmas,” the smell of my mother’s famous roast duck, and my father’s pride and joy at Christmastime, the enormous tree that filled their two-story living room. It was covered in twinkle lights, buffalo-plaid ribbon, and dozens of ornaments.

  Maren handed my mom a bouquet of flowers and a bottle of wine. “Oh thanks, doll. How sweet of you.”

  “Peter said it’s your favorite,” Maren said, pointing to the wine.

  “Oh, it is. And it’ll go perfectly with dinner.” Mom smiled before sniffing the flowers. “And these are just gorgeous. I’ll put them in some water. Be right back.”

  Maren stood in awe of the tree as we walked into the room.

  “Wow,” she said, her mouth hanging open, reaching her hands out to touch the ribbon that cascaded in waves down the sides of the tree.

  “My dad goes a little crazy this time of year, especially with the tree.”

  “It’s magnificent,” Maren said, still staring, her eyes bright.

  My dad entered the room and shook my hand before pulling me in for a tight hug. He always gave the best hugs. And since his heart attack,
I made sure to pull him just a little tighter and held on to him for just a second longer than I ever had before. I didn’t want to take any of those hugs for granted.

  “Hey, son,” he said as he released me, grabbing me by the shoulders and smiling. “A bonny Christmas to you.”

  “And to you, Dad.”

  “Bonny?” Maren asked, puzzled.

  “Scottish thing, my apologies,” Dad said with a big smile. “Bonny means beautiful.”

  “I love that,” Maren said as my dad opened his arms and welcomed her in for a hug. I watched as she closed her eyes tightly as his long arms enveloped her. Their bond was a special one, and one that I knew would never lose its luster. They’d shared trauma, and persevered. And now we were all spending our first Christmas together.

  It was…in a word…priceless.

  “Good to see ya, kiddo.”

  “Were you born in Scotland?” Maren asked my dad. “I’ve never noticed an accent.”

  “My parents were born there, moved here before I was born, but I always felt a pull to live there.”

  “I’ve heard it’s beautiful.”

  “Oh, it is. You would love it. My parents moved back when I was in college, so I almost went with them.”

  “Really?”

  “Oh yeah, pondered it for years—”

  “Until he met me,” Mom interrupted as she emerged from the kitchen. “I wouldn’t let him leave.”

  Dad shrugged. “It’s true. Look at her; I had no choice.”

  Mom placed a hand over her heart and tilted her head to the side. “Such a charmer.”

  “Do your parents still live there?”

  “They’ve both passed, but Peter got to spend a few summers there as a boy.”

  “I didn’t know that,” Maren said, turning to me.

  “Oh yeah, after dinner I’ll have Val grab the photo albums.”

  “Please don’t,” I groaned, remembering so many awkward pictures of my childhood—before I cared about my hair, my clothes, or anything about my appearance.

  “Don’t fight it, Petey. She’s going to see them sooner or later,” Mom said before turning her attention to Maren. “Now, come, honey,” my mom said, linking arms with Maren. “Peter says you love to cook. I’m going to show you the secret to my duck.”