Kissing a Fool

by Gwen Hayes

  Jeeves smiled. “That was quite a day. I knew then you’d be more than a little trouble.”

  “Oh please, you were too enamored with Myrtle to notice me that day.”

  “You wore the red dress with white dots.” She must have looked surprised, so he kept going. “I remember the way the sun lit your hair from the window and the way your freckles reminded me of chocolate jimmies.”

  She felt as if the sun were hitting her face right now, the way the warmth grew and spread across her cheeks and into her hairline. “We’ve been through a lot in six months.”

  “I put you through a lot, you mean.”

  Charlie knit her brows together in confusion. “Where is this sudden attack of conscience coming from? I’m the one that screwed up.”

  “I don’t think that is true.”

  She was suddenly very, very tired. “I pushed you away over and over, expecting you to just Weeble right back.”

  Jeeves sat next to her. They weren’t physically touching—or even looking at each other. Like they needed the distance. “When a man falls in love, it feels a little like storming a castle. I just wanted past your defenses so bad, I didn’t give enough thought to the vulnerable part you were protecting with all your crazy moats and concrete turrets. I came through like a wrecker ball.”

  “You’re mixing a lot of metaphors there.”

  “I really do suck at writing my own material.”

  Charlie laughed but then got serious. “I don’t want to have a weak and vulnerable part.” Her voice sounded meek to her own ears.

  “Then give it to me. I’ll take care of it. I promise.” He threaded one curl around his finger. “Give me your heart, Charlie. I promise I’ll guard it with my life.”

  Her breath got stuck like it sometimes used to when she thought about leaving the old apartment. Only this wasn’t a panic attack, this was optimism.

  He’d better be sure.

  “I still don’t want to leave Silver Pines,” she warned him. “I especially don’t want to go to a city. I don’t think that will ever change, even if I went to counseling twice a day. I won’t go with you to L.A. or Vancouver or any other place you shoot your movies.”

  “That’s not a problem. When you’re ready—if you’re ready—we can take vacations in small, remote places. And my mom can just spend Christmas in Silver Pines from now on.”

  “I can’t promise I’ll stop Googling you when you leave town.”

  “I wish that were half as dirty as it sounds.”

  Charlie frowned. “I’m serious, Jeeves.”

  “I’ll tell you what…if this is still a problem, say, ten years from now, we can agree to revisit the issue, okay? I’m betting I’ll have convinced you of my love and devotion by then. And that you will probably be booking me on frequent trips to get me out of your hair.”

  His finger left her hair and traced the line of her bodice, lightly touching her skin.

  “Does this mean you forgive me and we can get naked?”

  “Not yet,” he said, even as his hand dipped beneath the fabric.

  “What do you mean not yet? Do not tell me you are going to put more restrictions on this. I thought you said…whoa.” She forgot what she was going to say when his hand went inside her bra cup. Charlie blinked several times. “I left town,” she squeaked, as much of a protest as she could manage.

  “I know you left town. And that’s amazing, Cleaver, really it is.” Jeeves pulled his hands back into his lap and waited.

  Right. There was one more thing he wanted.

  Charlie took a deep breath. So, one of People’s Sexiest Men Alive was sitting on the couch next to her waiting for her to profess her love. He was charming and handsome. He wrote her letters and shared custody of his dog. He seemed to be quite taken with her body, despite it being lumpier than the steady diet of supermodels he was used to. It seemed silly now to be concerned about that if he didn’t seem to be.

  But he was also slick—too slick. He wanted everyone to like him, and because of that, he tried too hard to fit in. She’d have to watch that.

  Jeeves squinted at her. “I can practically see you ticking off your pros versus cons list in your head. Am I winning?”

  “I love you,” she said in a rush, before her fear could swallow the words back up. “Even though I find you ridiculous most of the time.”

  “Oh baby, you say the sweetest things,” he answered, pulling the hem of his shirt up and over his head.

  Sweet heat flooded her skin with a rush of sensation. Jeeves might be a dork, but he was a very well put together dork. And any second now, she was going to touch him.

  Any second.

  Charlie bit her lip and held one tentative hand toward his chest.

  Jeeves raised his eyebrow and grinned at her salaciously. Then, he shook his head. “Darlin’, if you think we’re going slow and sweet after six months of foreplay, you’re delusional.”

  And then he was on her. Jeeves had more hands than anatomy allowed for. His mouth was hot, crushing her into kisses that scorched her from the inside out. He whispered words of love, interspersed with some pretty creative words of lust. Best of all, he shivered when she finally touched him.

  And that was so not a roll of breath mints in his pocket.

  Chapter Nine

  SHE WAS OUT OF her dress and spread beneath him on the bed, and Jeeves admired every curve with his hand followed by his mouth. Charlie was worth the wait. All that creamy, soft skin, the sweet moans and whispers that spiked his blood, the glide of her hands over his back, lower. The way she dug her fingers into his ass.

  He wanted to make this last but he didn’t stand a chance.

  He flicked a tongue over one nipple before pulling it into his mouth, sucking in a long draw that turned her sweet moan a little more feral.

  “You’re so soft,” he said against her skin. “So perfect.”

  She flushed a pretty pink at his compliments, and he committed the color to his memory. He wanted to see it again. He wanted to paint her that color every day of his life, so he would make sure to tell her every day how beautiful she was to him.

  Her arm flung out wildly, trying to reach the box of condoms on the nightstand, but he grabbed her wrist and brought it to the side of her head.

  “I thought you said we weren’t going to be slow and sweet. Suit up, Jeeves. I’m ready.”

  “I changed my mind.”

  The groan caught in her throat when he moved his kisses down, tracing her tummy with his lips and tongue. She stiffened, self-conscious again, he realized.

  Challenge accepted.

  He moved down, shouldering himself between her thighs, opening her wider, and spent a lot of time on a sweet patch of skin where the seam of her leg met the rest of her body. Until her moans became keens. Until her keens became tremors. And then he moved to other one.

  “Please,” she whimpered.

  “Please what, Charlie?”

  She rose up on her elbows to send him a death glare, and once she made eye contact with him, he gave her what they both wanted. His tongue on her center, his eyes locked with hers. Her hands gripped the sheets and her hips rose up to meet his mouth, but her eyes, wild and wanton, stayed right there with him while he nibbled and licked.

  It was the most erotic moment of his life.

  She quivered, so close. And then her head fell back and she began chanting his name, shuddering on an endless quake until she was limp beneath him. He kissed his way back up that gorgeous body until she pulled him to her. “I need you inside me.” She bit his shoulder. “Now.”

  This time, he didn’t stop her when she reached for the condoms on the night stand, didn’t stop her when she helped him roll one on, though he hissed and prayed not to embarrass himself. This was just the beginning for them. They’d have a lifetime of making love—but he had hopes of dazzling her at least one more time before their first was on the books.

  Their hands found each other, their fingers entwining as he bro
ught them up to rest on the pillow on either side of her face. He slid inside her, stilling when she gasped, letting her get used to him, to them. He dropped his forehead to hers because being still wasn’t easy.

  “I’m okay,” she said, her voice throaty and low.

  “Not sure I am, sweetness.” Jeeves knew he loved her. Knew he wanted her. But he hadn’t been prepared for this at all. This was bigger than want. Bigger than giving her his heart or his body. This was his life. His soul. He was the one quivering now.

  Falling for Charlie had changed him—he wasn’t the same man he was six months ago. But now, he wasn’t even the same man he was ten minutes ago.

  “I love you.” It seemed like such an impotent thing to say to describe everything he was feeling right now. But those were the only words he had.

  Charlie wrapped her legs around his hips and arched into him. “I know,” she answered and he laughed despite himself.

  “Nothing has ever felt as good as being inside you feels now.” He flexed his hips, pushing slowly, and they both moaned.

  “Oh God, do that again,” she whispered hoarsely.

  And so he did. He set a pace, their bodies slick with sweat and desire, raced to meet it. But it wasn’t enough, he wasn’t close enough. He released her hands, banding his arms around her, pulling her into him and deepening the angle of his strokes.

  She gasped, the word “yes” her new chant as she tightened around him, milking his pleasure, her climax bringing him over the edge right along with her. He growled when came, the need to drive everything he was into her, to make her take him, keep him.

  Make him hers.

  ...

  Jeeves held her to him tightly after rolling to his back. “You’re shaking,” he said.

  She kissed his chest. “I think that’s you.”

  He squeezed her tighter. “You weren’t supposed to notice that.”

  She smiled and played with the patch of hair on his chest. She was in bed with a television star. He was still trembling with lust and love from having sex with her.

  Her.

  This was not her life. It couldn’t be real.

  Medusa let one rip from across the room.

  Okay, yeah. This was real. And this was her life.

  “Can we talk about weddings yet or is it too soon?”

  She pulled her head up to see if he thought he was being funny, but he looked like a man dead-set on goal. He brushed some curls off her face, wrapping one around his finger and waited.

  “Too soon,” she said on an exasperated huff. It was, wasn’t it? Too soon to be talking about forever and commitments. They just barely got back together. They hardly knew each other. They hadn’t even… “Fall. I want an autumn wedding.” She pulled herself up into a seated position. “This fall.”

  Jeeves smiled. “You’re not playing with my emotions, are you?”

  She shook her head. Amazed that she was serious. “I want to marry you. I want…everything with you. Your mornings and your evenings. I want to hear you in the shower every day. I want…a life…with you. And your dog.”

  “Charlie.” That was all he said, but he said it with such love, such adoration, that she started to cry. “Christ.”

  He scooped her into his arms and rocked her.

  “I don’t know why I’m crying.”

  “Maybe you just realized you promised your forever to a crazy man.”

  “A crazy man who loves me.”

  “A crazy man who loves you.”

  She inhaled deeply from the skin of his neck. He smelled so good, so right. She was going to marry him. She was going to be his forever.

  She was going to have a huge muffin for her wedding cake and walk down the aisle to Tom Waits…but first…she pushed the sheet down off his body.

  Jeeves raised his eyebrows.

  Charlies looked him up and down. “Jeeves, I’m about to do things to your body that will make you blush for a year. And I’m going to do them slow, real slow.”

  And she never had to wonder again.

  Author’s Note

  SAM, MYRTLE’S HUSBAND, GARDENER, and handyman, won the betting pool at Mel’s Tavern. He figured the first day of spring was a pretty good bet—plus he knew how to break and repair his own water pipes. He gave his winnings to his wife to use for a spa day.

  ...

  I hope you enjoyed reading Kissing a Fool. Drop me a tweet @gwenhayes or leave a review if you like. Never miss a new release by signing up for my newsletter. Oh, come on. Newsletters are fun. Sexy even!

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  Enjoy an excerpt from my next book out in May.

  His Runaway Campfire Princess

  A Princess on the run…

  Just once, Princess Merriam would like to make her own choices, but independence is in short supply when your father, the king, is of the royal opinion that princesses are for looking pretty and being obedient. When she overhears him talking to her broody, sexy, and oh-so-aloof bodyguard about her future wedding, a surprise to her as she’s not currently engaged to anyone, she plots her first rebellion: slip past her protection detail in NYC and board a tourist bus bound for Camp Firefly Falls where she plans to spend the week incognito as a normal twenty-something looking for love during Singles’ Week.

  A Duke in pursuit…

  Harmon Maxwell , Duke of Carlisle and Commander of the Royal Palace Guard has no patience for spoiled little rich girls who think security is a game. The tempting princess has tormented his dreams for years, but he’s a man of honor and duty, and he intends to bring the reckless beauty to heel until a real threat to her safety means a week at camp might be the safest place for her. It’s his duty to keep her in close protection, and that means she only gets one suitor during Singles’ Week: him.

  Kindle | Nook | Apple | Kobo | Google | Print

  Merriam Rodham, Princess of Sirvartania, didn’t always eavesdrop on her father’s conversations, but when she did…

  Oh, who was she kidding? She eavesdropped on her father’s conversations all the damn time.

  Really, it was the only way to find out much of anything as Papa didn’t think his little kitten has the moral fortitude to withstand real life. She was relegated to last position on the need to know list, even when it concerned her. Especially when it concerned her.

  She was pressed so hard against the walnut wainscoting wall she was going to smell of lemon polish for days. The problem was corralling the tulle of her ridiculous dress so it didn’t give her away.

  Papa was currently speaking with the always dour Duke of Carlysle. The One Who Scowls. The very duke who was not only the bane of her existence, but also had the nerve to be severely sexy while doing it. If you found that kind of thing attractive. Which she didn’t. Not at all. Okay, maybe a little.

  It never made much sense to her why she found him so fascinating. Harmon Maxwell, Duke if Carlysle, Commander of the Royal Palace Guard, didn’t own an expression that wasn’t displeasure. At least when it came to her and whatever scrape she’d gotten herself into. Which to be fair, were more than a handful. This year. So far.

  It was a good thing the Royal Palace Guard had good dental coverage because the man ground his teeth a lot.

  She supposed there was something to be said for his appearance. And that something was exquisite. His body and his mind were finely honed weapons. He loomed over her by about a foot, all broody and muscley and annoying.

  It was only fair that he found her so aggravating because he happened to push every button she had figuratively but would never in a million years push the important one she had literally. But that never stopped a girl from thinking about it.

  Maybe he didn’t even know about buttons. She hadn’t seen or heard of him romantically entangled with anyone in the last ten years. And Sivartania was too small to not hear gossip about the oh-so-serious second most eligible bachelor in the kingdom. The Crown Prince would be first, and her brother was romantically entangled with just about everyone. Michael didn’t even
limit himself to women. He just sexed whomever he happened to find attractive. And he found a lot of people attractive.

  She couldn’t see into the room, but she didn’t have to to imagine the scene. The duke would be wearing his dress uniform as they were currently all supposed to be attending a soiree in the ballroom of their Manhattan hotel. Yet here they were, the two men cahooting about her in the suite library and her lurking outside the door. Harmon, in his white coat with all the decorations, would be standing at near attention, as was his way. His eyes, though, would never rest. They’d be scoping the exits, the possible threats, the items he could use as a weapon in an attack. Occasionally, he’d reach one large hand up to rub his neatly trimmed beard. It was possibly his only unconscious movement. Though it was equally possible that he knew he did it and was programmed by his robotics engineer to have a human tic in order to make him more believable.

  Harmon wasn’t adding much to the conversation, though he never did. He was a very thorough listener. The kind whose silence often brought to the surface of a conversation the very things the other person had been hoping to hold inside. Lord knows he’d flustered her out of enough secrets over the years.

  Damn him.

  Her father blustered on as normal. He apparently didn’t like Lord Balton, Merriam’s last “paramour.” You’d think he’d be happy that they’d broken up. But no.

  “He was a pisser. Where does she find these degenerates? If her mother were alive to see her boyfriends…”

  Merriam squeezed her eyes shut. If her mother were alive, everything would be different. Life after the attack ten years was unrecognizable to the one she lived now. Her father had been a different kind of king. A different kind of dad. Laughter had echoed off the walls of Rodham Palace in those days. Now silence reigned, pushing out joy and laughter and fun.

  She’d been so looking forward to this trip to the United States. She’d been to New York once before, when Mama was alive. She and her parents and her brother Michael had explored the city and while she was sure they’d had a security detail, she didn’t remember it.