by Lynn Burke
I knew exactly what she meant. Those high school sleepovers that ended with me sitting on the Risso’s couch late at night alone with Cole, sharing our dreams. Wishes we knew would never come true. Talking on the phone with him once Lia and I left for college, telling him my insecurities. Him admitting ones of his own.
Connecting. Understanding a person’s heart and mind beyond what’s seen.
“I had dreams once upon a time,” I finally said, once I knew my voice wouldn’t waver.
Lia reached over and grasped my hand. “Don’t let them die, Gwen. You’re only twenty-five, not ninety-five.”
My throat tightened, so I nodded.
An hour later, and with seven other bridesmaids jammed into the limo with us, we pulled into the church’s parking lot. Catching a glimpse of a group of people, I lowered my head, focusing on grabbing lip balm from my small purse.
“Looks like everyone waited for us,” Lia said as the limo stopped.
“Damn,” Jenna, one of Lia’s coworkers, said. “So much for our grand entrance.” Giggles revealed the amount of champagne they’d all guzzled on the ride.
Renea, a blonde bombshell, leaned forward to look out the tinted window. “Holy hell. Look at all that Risso hotness. And the groom, of course.”
More laughter and sighs abounded as I inhaled a deep breath and glanced up at Lia.
Dark eyes twinkling and cheeks flushed, she peered past me out the window.
“Ryan lookin’ good?” I asked.
“Always.”
“Ready for him?”
She focused on me, her happiness twinging me with jealousy. “Always.”
The driver opened the door and, heart thumping, I plastered a smile on my lips. “Then, let’s go.”
Cole
Zane, Bastian, and I stood off to the side from everyone else. While waiting for the bride-to-be and her entourage, I kept my back to the parking lot entrance. Adrenaline rushed like I hadn’t experienced since giving my first speech in high school.
My youngest brother had flown in with the sun. Fifteen months earlier, Bastian had announced he wanted to open a chain store outside of New England. I expected it had something to do with the drunken confession he’d spewed out not long beforehand—the family stifled him, and he needed to find his own way in life. I’d promised not to tell anyone, and encouraged Papa to let his only introverted child expand our business.
“Still loving the boondocks, Bastian?” I asked, trying to keep my mind off waiting to finally see Gwen again.
He scanned the crowd of people before us and slipped his hands into his pockets. “Charleston is a nice city, but I’m looking for a place to rent to the south.”
“Quieter.” Bastian nodded even though I hadn’t voiced it as a question. “Finding what you need down there?”
He glanced up at me and away as he shrugged.
“Any hot women?” Zane asked.
“Haven’t been looking.”
Zane chuckled. “Papa’s gunna blow a gasket when you bring home a boyfriend one day. Even Mom’ll shit herself.”
Fire glinted in Bastian’s narrowed gaze as it landed on Zane. “Fuck you.”
“No thanks.” He smirked. “I draw a line with family members.”
I backhanded Zane’s upper arm. “Leave the kid alone, asswipe.”
“Unlike you,” Bastian continued to glare at Zane, “I’m looking for the woman who will complete me. Not just a quick fuck every other hour of the day.”
“Nothin’ wrong with getting some if someone’s panting and you’re ready.” Zane glanced over my shoulder toward the parking lot entrance. “Girls are here.” He met my gaze. “You good?”
“Yeah.” I rubbed damp palms down my pants, too chicken-shit to turn around.
Bastian focused on my hands before lifting his head, brow furrowed. “What’s wrong with you?”
I swallowed, trying like hell to work up some saliva. “Tell you later.”
“Lovely, lovely ladies.” Zane grinned, his focus once more beyond me. “Looks like Lia picked out Gwen’s clothes for tonight.”
Shit.
I closed my eyes against Bastian’s inquisitive stare, forced a smile, and turned. Lia and her bridesmaids had climbed from the limo and, when I fixated on Gwen, my breath expelled like I took a punch to the gut. A little black dress hugged her curves like a second skin, accenting her tiny waist and perfect breasts. She turned sideways to speak to Lia, and instant lust hit my groin.
Memories of her climbing across my console and straddling me brought the scent of her strawberry lotion to mind. I bit back a groan and allowed my gaze to roam her ass, down to where the black skirt skimmed over toned thighs—the flesh my fingers had dug into while thrusting up to meet her.
“You’re right.” Zane clasped my shoulder. “Wicked hot.”
Thanking God I went for tighty-whities to keep my package in check, I growled. “Don’t get any ideas, dickwad.”
“Calm your balls.” Zane snickered as Bastian peered between us, gaze narrowed. “Hands off. Promise.”
Tense and unmoving except for my growing erection, I stared as Lia and Gwen ambled through the crowd before us. Although Gwen barely crested five feet in height, her legs seemed to go on forever, with a pair of stilettos that screamed “fuck me as though the world is ending.”
I shifted from one foot to the other as they made their rounds, greeting everyone. Mouth dry, I hovered behind, heart racing and cock wanting to slide home.
“Cole.” Eyes shining, Lia leaned up on her tiptoes and kissed my cheek.
Focusing my attention on her rather than over her shoulder, I smiled. “You look great, Sis. Ready for tomorrow?”
“Hell yes.” She laughed and moved to kiss Zane beside me.
Electrical currents slammed through my body as I turned toward Gwen. Head down, she fiddled with her purse. “Hi, Gwen.” My voice cracked.
Long lashes lifted and her gaze landed on me for a heartbeat before flitting away. “Cole.”
“You look amazing.”
She snorted beneath her breath. “Sufficient for a change, you mean.”
“That’s not—”
Gwen focused on my mom and strode away, a fake smile stretching her naked lips. “So good to see you again, Mrs. Risso.”
Mom enveloped Gwen in her arms, and I spun toward the church, my stomach a rock.
I’d tried to apologize countless times the month after our one night together, but Gwen shut me down without a response. The one time I showed up at her apartment—when I knew Lia wasn’t home—Gwen had slammed the door in my face. No amount of pleading through the wooden panel had gained me entry.
Once I’d resigned myself to the fact she wanted nothing to do with me, I’d stopped trying.
Lia confided a year later that Gwen hooked up with guys off dating sites—and not in search of love. The Italian temper I inherited from Papa raged, but I’d swallowed it like a bitter pill. Blamed myself for her promiscuous ways. Didn’t stop me from longing for her every other minute of the day, though.
****
Zane slumped on the wooden pew beside me. “Need to cool it before Papa notices.”
My gaze trailed over Gwen as she, Lia, and the wedding planner discussed how the party should be positioned on stage. Shifting on the hard bench didn’t ease the ache in my balls. Tearing my focus from Gwen was like ripping off a Band-Aid. “Cool what?”
“The fact that you’re craving to sip from between Gwen’s thighs.”
“That bad, huh?”
He clasped my shoulder. “Dangling a line of drool, Brother.”
“Well if you knew—”
“Gah.” Zane grimaced and shook his head. “Incest.”
The word killed my erection, and my hope that I could make our father understand. “Wish Papa wanted our happiness more than family success.”
Zane tipped his chin toward the front of the church. “He let Lia choose to work outside.”
“Yeah, bu
t she’s his baby girl.”
“You’re one depressing son of a bitch, you know that?”
Ignoring him, I turned back toward Gwen.
“If you’re not going to tell Papa to fuck off and take what you want, then at least attempt to move on. What do you say we grab our pansy of a brother after dinner, go get drunk, nab a few chicks, and head back to your place for a mind-blowing orgy?”
The golden crucifix above the altar caught my eye, and I cringed over my brother’s choice of words. Not that the images of Gwen flashing through my mind were much better. “Wish I could say that sounds like a good idea.”
Zane expelled a loud breath and left me alone.
Gwen’s head tilted back as she laughed at something Lia said. My hands itched to explore her pale throat, the swell of her breasts, and her tiny waist. And God, those long legs and fucking hotter-than-hell black heels.
No one—no group of Zane’s ready and willing women—would ever compare.
****
Determined to talk to Gwen before night’s end, I bided my time. While everyone enjoyed cocktails at the restaurant, I refrained, my grave expression drawing more than one inquiry from Mom.
Intuitive to the point I believed in a sixth sense, our mother always knew when one of her kids struggled or suffered. I’d caught Lia glancing between me and Gwen a couple of times too, as the minutes dragged by.
Gwen pushed back from the table. “Bathroom,” I heard her mumble to Lia on her right. “Be right back.”
A quick glance around showed no one was watching. Adrenaline pumped through my body as I slipped out of my seat and followed her.
I entered the two-stall ladies’ room and, discovering only one occupied, I locked the door behind me.
Humming beneath her breath, Gwen did her business, flushed, and slid the bolt back.
She stepped out of the stall and stumbled to a stop, her eyes wide. “What the hell, Cole?”
“We need to talk.”
“There’s nothing to talk about.” She stepped to the sink and turned on the water full blast.
Arms crossed to hide my shaking hands, I waited as she took her good old time. Heart thumping like mad, I filled my eyes with her profile—smooth skin, pert, slightly upturned nose, and pursed lips.
Once the hand dryer shut off, she heaved a deep breath and faced me, fists at her sides. “Excuse me.”
“I’m not moving until you hear me out.” A trace of strawberries teased my nose, sending a rush of blood south.
She glanced at the door behind me, and the fire extinguished in her hazel-green eyes. “You’ve got two minutes.”
The things I could do to you in two minutes…
I squeezed my arms tight to keep from grabbing and hauling her against me.
Her brow rose. “Well?”
“I’m…I’m sorry.”
She huffed a breath. “Look, Cole, I understand about your father, your being the next patriarch of the family, and needing to do right by your name. I do.”
“But—”
“But nothing. I have no father. A mother who loves toking up every night.”
“Gwen—”
She held up a hand. “I’ll never be dignified enough in your father’s eyes. I’ve always known it—and I never should have thrown myself at you.”
Swallowing, I let my arms drop to my sides. “It was the best night of my life.”
Her jaw snapped shut.
I reached out to trace a finger down her soft cheek. “You’re all I think about, Gwen. All I dream about.”
She stepped back from me, her eyes hardening. “I’m the wrong choice, Cole.”
“You’re the only one I want.”
Tears filled her eyes, but she straightened, chin lifting. “Yeah, well I had you once and that was enough for me. Get out of my way.”
Numbness descended over me, and I did as she asked while my scrambled thoughts tried to grasp what she had claimed.
Gwen
I held in the tears until a pillow could catch them. Sobs tightened my throat, but since Lia slept beside me on the queen bed, I stifled them.
Pretending all night that I didn’t see Cole, that his existence meant nothing to me, had proven more difficult than I thought it would. As though connected by a tether of crackling energy, I’d sensed his presence. Whether he was close or far, my nerves had tingled with awareness.
And when he’d locked us in the bathroom, I wanted to grab him by the tie and crush my mouth against his. Taste the subtle hint of peppermint that always lingered on his breath. Beg him to slam me against the wall and make me come like he had done so long ago.
Even buzzing from too much wine, I couldn’t do it. Once had ruined me. A second time would be my undoing.
Lia’s old Hello Kitty alarm clock blinked another minute passed, and I swiped the wetness from my cheeks.
Although my heart ached, my body burned. Closing my eyes, I envisioned impaling myself on Cole.
His hands grasping my hips, dragging me forward.
My throbbing clit rubbing across his skin.
I clenched my pussy tight against his imagined cock and bit down on the inside of my lip.
Beside me, Lia murmured in her sleep, and the burn for a nerve-shattering orgasm dulled. I rolled over and pulled my knees up against my chest as all traces of arousal faded.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
No way in hell would I be able to sleep.
I strained my ears for any sounds beyond the closed door. Lia’s three brothers had returned to the house after dinner, but it sounded as though they’d left for the night. A few more silent minutes, and I slipped out of the bed.
My ratty Princess Ariel t-shirt that sufficed as a nightie when needed hung to mid-thigh, decent enough I didn’t bother grabbing Lia’s robe. Tugging on the frayed edge with shaking fingers, I paused in the hallway to listen. Silence hovered.
Time to visit Mr. Risso’s stocked bar in the basement.
****
The full moon’s beams filtered through the windows, allowing me to see my way down the dark, winding staircase. My bare feet made a quiet padding sound on the stairs. The Risso’s house had always been a source of comfort when I was a kid. Too often, while unable to sleep, I’d sneak out of Lia’s bedroom and roam the downstairs, dreaming of what it would be like to live a life of luxury.
Upon returning from the rehearsal dinner, however, no such peacefulness had found me. Resurfaced thoughts of my lacking had kept me on edge, unable to enjoy the Risso family gathering in the basement until their grandfather clock reminded us of the late hour. I’d been happy to escape Cole’s stares and follow Lia up to her bedroom for our last slumber party.
I hesitated by the entryway to the kitchen, but no noise sounded. A few tiptoed steps, and I stood by the basement door where dim light shone underneath. Biting down on the ring through my lower lip, I stared at the paneled door.
After five minutes or so of silence ringing in my ears, I decided one of the boys must have forgotten to hit the lights on their way out.
The promise of whiskey urged me forward, and I slipped down the stairs like a wraith. A quick glance around showed the room to be vacant, with no heads above the back of the leather sectional facing the TV on the far wall. Pool sticks lay atop the felt-covered table instead of in their rack like Mr. Risso had always demanded. I shook my head at the boys’ stupidity but, salivating for whiskey, I didn’t bother crossing the room to cover their asses.
I helped myself to Mr. Risso’s liquor, filling a tumbler close to the top. One big gulp downed half, and I sighed. Eyeing the couch, I thought of the hours spent there with Cole, talking late into the night long after the rest of the family had gone to bed. Thoughts of the fantasies I’d often dreamed about happening on its cushions jacked up my internal temperature, and I muttered a curse.
My body craved release like a junkie needing a fix.
Rolling my neck side to side, I ambled forward, wishing I had my not-so-competent vi
brator, Mr. Wonderful, in hand. While I bragged of his pulsating talent, the damn thing proved no more effectual at getting me off than the real deal.
I rounded the couch, but halted as a body came into view.
Cole lounged against the far side, one hand behind his head, half-empty beer bottle in the other. “Hey.”
Our gazes collided, sending a shock wave of energy through my blood. My heel itched to spin, but his focus wandered down my body and back up again, lingering on my bare thighs.
Oh, the temptation to taste him one more time. Three years of simmering desire had my kettle ready to scream hallelujah. “Hey,” I whispered back. “I thought you’d left.”
His smile melted my bones. “Decided to stay a while and reminisce.”
My lips tugged up. “I was eyeing the back of the couch while stealing some whiskey and doing the same thing.” Kind of.
“Care to join me?”
I considered the cushion closest to me and bit on the inside of my lip as temptation and love for the sexy man a few paces away warred in my brain. Knowing I owed Cole an apology, I decided to sit, curling my legs under me. “Sorry for being so harsh earlier. I…I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
Cole twisted sideways to place the bottle on the coffee table. “I shouldn’t have cornered you like that.” He started to sit up, but hesitated, a question in his eyes.
“It’s all right. I won’t run.”
The leather squeaked as he swung his feet to the floor and leaned back, hands on his thighs. His blue tie hung loose, the top two buttons of his dress shirt unbuttoned. A hint of dark hair called out to my fingers. Averting my eyes, I focused on the tumbler clasped in both my hands.
“I know I’ve said it hundreds of times, Gwen, but I’m sorry. Please say you forgive me.”
Another gulp of whiskey gave me courage to speak. “Forgiving in my mind means making things right—getting back to normal and moving on.” I lifted my head enough to focus on the knot of his tie. “I can’t do that with you, Cole.”
“Why not?”
“Because even though it’s expected you’ll marry an uptight, snobbish princess,” I sucked in air and allowed the words to spew, “I want you every second of the day.”
His chest stopped its rise and fall, and I glanced up at his face.