by Meg Benjamin
“We’re going to need to find some way to cut back on the food and liquor budget. We’re barely making a profit.”
Liam kept quiet about the difference in customer numbers when Peaches had been in the kitchen versus the current situation. Stanton wasn’t interested in hearing more criticism of McCullough. “It’s the slow season. We’re still pulling in the tourists, but they’ve started to head back to put their kids in school. Business will pick up again when the skiers hit the slopes. It always does.”
Stanton gave him a jaundiced look. “That’s assuming we’re still open then.”
Liam narrowed his eyes. He wasn’t sure what Stanton was working up to, but he didn’t think it was good. “Yeah, always assuming that. But this place has a good rep. And the number of beer drinkers has stayed pretty steady.”
Stanton narrowed his eyes. “I suppose that’s good from your point of view.”
“I’d say it’s good from everybody’s point of view. Money spent on beer is as good as money spent on food.”
Stanton grunted. Liam wasn’t sure if that was agreement or dissent.
“What time do we close tonight?”
Stanton shrugged. “Midnight. Unless these people clear out earlier. If they do, then close up whenever the place is empty. Your call. I’m going home. McCullough’s already gone.”
“So the kitchen is closed for the night?”
Stanton shrugged again, heading back where he’d come from. Apparently, the answer was obvious.
Liam leaned his elbows on the bar and wished everybody out of the tavern. It took another thirty minutes for his wish to come true.
He loaded a last tray of glasses into the dishwasher as one of the waitresses stepped next to him. “Just wanted to say goodbye and good luck. You’re a great bartender.”
Liam turned to look at her. “You’re quitting?”
“Might as well. The tips are down, thanks to the kitchen. I figured it was time to look for something better.”
Liam sighed. That was true enough. “Okay, well, good luck to you.”
“Thanks.”
He watched her head for the exit, frowning. Maybe it was time for him to give Stanton notice. Only, Stanton would fire him as soon as he did that, based on what had happened with Peaches. Better to wait another week or so, at least try to keep the relationship open for Bec to sell Stanton beer.
Better to not have to tell Ruth he was leaving town.
His conscience gave him a quick kick. He wasn’t exactly hurting Ruth by not owning up. She knew he was looking for another job, and she knew he’d been considering getting out of Antero. But that was different from knowing he was definitely going.
You need to tell her. And soon.
He did. And then he needed to think about when he’d tell Stanton, and when he’d start packing up. And how he could help Bec find a replacement for him. There was no reason for him to stay around Antero much longer.
Except for Ruth. The thought slipped through his mind almost before he was ready. Ruth. Were they that serious? He wasn’t sure. But he couldn’t dismiss the idea that she was important in his life. Important enough to think about when he thought about the move.
It was definitely time to head over to her place. And maybe time to think about what was happening between them a little more seriously.
…
Ruth told herself she was doing the right thing. She also told herself she wasn’t a bad mother. She wasn’t sure either statement was accurate. Leaving her daughter at her brother’s place so that she could have one more night with Liam Dempsey seemed a little sleazy somehow.
Not so sleazy that she wouldn’t do it, of course.
She made a sandwich and poured a glass of iced tea. After a day like this, she probably deserved wine, but she’d wait and share it with Liam.
She started watching for him around eleven thirty, hoping he’d gotten off work early, but he didn’t appear on her front step until midnight. He’d walked over from the tavern, which at least meant the neighbors wouldn’t see his car sitting outside in the morning.
Not that she cared about things like that. Although, yeah, she did care some. She was the Responsible Mom, after all. Her neighbors had probably never seen her with a man, given how few guys she’d dated over the last few years.
Liam looked tired, with dark circles beneath his eyes and deepening crinkles at the corners. If he looks like that, what must I look like? They’d had the same amount of sleep the night before, and he was five years younger.
Back to that again, are you? You know it doesn’t matter. She did, but sometimes it slipped underneath her defenses.
She closed the door behind him. “You want some wine? Or I’ve got beer if you’d rather.”
He smiled at her, some of the tiredness sliding away. “To tell you the truth, I’m kind of sick of beer. I’ve been pushing it all night. Wine sounds good.”
She pulled a corkscrew out of a drawer, then watched him open the bottle. “Tough night?”
He shrugged. “No tougher than usual. I don’t know why Stanton’s letting things go, but it gets a little worse every day.”
“Why doesn’t he do something?”
“Got me. He’s working on his new restaurant. He’s losing the locals at Black Mountain, although the tourists are still around—it’s a great location. I don’t know how long he can keep making a profit. Particularly with that yahoo in the kitchen.”
She took a sip of her wine, trying to relax the tension across her shoulders. Now that Liam was there she should feel better than she had before, but it wasn’t working out that way.
Liam leaned across the table, covering her hand with his. “What’s new?”
She gave him a taut smile. “I’m going to pick up Carol tomorrow and have David over for dinner. I think if he sees her, he’ll ease off. I’m guessing he still wants her to visit him.” She paused, closing her eyes. “He’s only seen her a few times over the years, although he calls her every once in a while. I don’t know why he’s suddenly decided she needs to come to L.A.”
Liam frowned. “Maybe he wants to get to know her better.”
“Maybe. He was supposed to visit when she was staying with his folks in Colorado Springs, but he cancelled at the last minute. Maybe his folks laid on the guilt.”
“Could be.” Liam yawned, rubbing his eyes. “Sorry. I’m more tired than I thought I was.”
“That’s okay. You’ve got a right to yawn, considering your working hours.”
Liam laced his fingers through hers, then pushed himself to his feet. “Come on.”
She blinked up at him. “Come on where?”
“To your bedroom, wherever it is. I need to see you naked. I need to do more than that, but we can start with the seeing part.” His lips moved into a sly grin. “Always assuming that’s why you wanted me here. If you wanted to play a round of cribbage, I could probably do that, although not with the same kind of enthusiasm.”
She looked up at him with her own sly grin. “I’ve never been much of a cribbage player. But I’ll be glad to show you the way to my room. I’ll even lead you there.”
…
Ruth paused in the doorway, glancing back at him over her shoulder, and his body tightened. He hadn’t realized how much he’d looked forward to this—how much he’d needed it—until he’d spent fifteen minutes staring into her brown velvet eyes. He didn’t recall ever wanting a woman as much as he wanted Ruth Colbert. At least, not since he’d passed puberty.
He followed her inside. The room had a bed, a dresser, and an armoire. It had no room for anything else. Even getting two people inside was a stretch. Fortunately, the bed was ample.
“I chose this room because it’s away from the street,” she explained. “And you can hear the stream when the windows are open.” She gestured toward a block of three windows across one wall. If he listened carefully, he could hear the whispering of water over stones somewhere nearby.
She turned back to him, smili
ng a little nervously. “It’s not as big as your bedroom. But it suits me.”
“It suits me, too. As long as you’re in it.” He stepped forward, wrapping his arms around her waist to pull her against him. “I’ve been missing you today.”
“You have?”
Those velvet eyes stared up at him, and he could feel his control beginning to slip. “Oh yes, ma’am. That I have.” He brought his lips to hers, sliding one arm behind her head to hold her so that he could plunge deep. His body was moving into very-ready status, but he wanted to take this slow, or as slow as he could force himself to go. He’d been thinking about her ever since he’d left the deli that morning, and now he could savor the experience.
Ruth’s hands slid down his body, moving between his legs to cup him through his jeans. One finger stroked the length of his shaft, lightly.
Maybe savoring could wait.
He took hold of the bottom of her T-shirt and pulled it up, then flipped open the fastening on her bra. Her breasts seemed to fall into his hands, perfect, full, ripe. He brought his mouth to a nipple and sucked hard, pulling it between his teeth.
Ruth gasped, her hands moving to clutch his shoulders. Not as enticing as what she’d been doing before, but less likely to make him lose what little control he was still holding on to. He dropped his hands to her hips, feeling the curve against his palms, then undid the button and zipper on her jeans, pushing them to her feet.
She stepped free and stood before him in the crowded room. Perfectly naked. And perfect.
“Now, you.” She undid the buttons on his shirt so quickly he was afraid she might pull one off. Then she tossed it somewhere. It might be hard to locate their clothes tomorrow, given that everything would probably end up under the bed. But then he didn’t care anymore because Ruth was kneeling in front of him.
She undid his button and zipper slowly. Much too slowly, as far as he was concerned. She pushed down his jeans and underwear and took him in her hand.
His pulse was jackhammering in his ears, everything in him concentrating on that single point, the touch of her hand. And then she leaned forward and took him into her mouth.
One hand stayed at the base of his shaft as she moved up and down, her tongue swiping across the head. It took all of his focus to keep from embarrassing himself. The rush of sensation was so intense, he groaned. If ever he needed distraction, it was now. But that seemed hard to come by. Suddenly, he couldn’t even remember the state capitols, let alone the saison recipe he’d used last night.
She moved her other hand to his sac, massaging lightly, and he gave up on trying to distract himself. It clearly wasn’t going to happen. Instead, he concentrated on holding himself back. But he began to suspect that wasn’t going to happen, either.
“Ruth,” he managed to choke out. “We need to move to the bed.”
She paused, staring up at him. “It’s all right. I don’t mind.”
“I do. I want to be inside you.”
Her lips moved into a grin, and she sat back on her haunches. “Okay. You need to take your clothes off for that.”
He glanced down. His jeans and underwear were still bunched around his knees. He hadn’t noticed.
He kicked himself free of his clothes as she pulled down the blanket and spread. His darker self longed to throw her onto the bed and have his way, but his saner self prevailed. Sort of.
He pulled her hips against him, letting his arousal press against her belly, kissing her for all he was worth. And suddenly remembered he had to grab a condom out of his jeans.
He started to turn, but she put a hand on his arm. “I’ve got some in the nightstand.”
Fine. He wasn’t going to argue. He picked her up, sliding his arms beneath her knees and her shoulders, and managed to drop her onto the bed before he piled on top of her himself. He spent a split second fumbling in the box before he pulled out a condom.
She started to take it from his hands, but he shook his head. “Nope. Gotta do this myself. Otherwise this might be over before we get started.”
She grinned up at him as he smoothed on the rubber, and he kissed her again just to show her how serious he was. “God, I want you,” he muttered.
“Then you’d better get to it.” She cupped his face in her hands and brought his lips to hers again, gentler this time, but full of sensation as her tongue rubbed lazily against his. He brought his fingers to her folds, testing her, knowing he couldn’t last much longer.
And then she took hold of him, guiding him to her opening and into the warm depths of her body.
He moved against her, trying to keep his head, trying to keep it slow but knowing he probably couldn’t. She brought her legs to his sides, wrapping them around his waist, her heels tucked against his ass as he moved.
He began to go more quickly, plunging deeper, his body on fire, his brain on autopilot. There’s never been anything like this before. Never with anyone else.
He filed that thought away to be examined later and let himself increase his stroke. Faster, harder, deeper. Beneath him, Ruth was panting, her breath loud in his ears. Her body tightened, her fingers digging into his biceps. And then she cried out, convulsing against him, her forehead pressed against his shoulder.
His own orgasm gathered at the base of his spine, traveling up like a shot of mercury, hitting him all at once, so that he groaned and lost his rhythm, his body jolting into hers.
When he finally came to himself again, he was still lying across her, his head against her breast. Given that he’d never had an experience like that before, he needed to say something.
“That was…” He paused, trying to find just the right words. But the right words weren’t there. Or rather, they were, but he wasn’t ready to say them.
“That was amazing,” he said finally, wincing at his own lack of imagination.
“That sums it up, I’d say.” She rubbed her nose against his shoulder and he managed to move slightly so that he wasn’t crushing her.
He lay with her in his arms, feeling a wave of satisfaction and warmth roll across his body. He was drowsy, sated, and absurdly content. Wondering just how long he could go on like this.
“When Carol comes back…” he mumbled.
“When she comes back?” Ruth sounded almost as drowsy as he did.
“Can we keep going out? You can get a sitter to stay with her, right?”
Ruth nodded. “Sure. Like I said, I know a couple of girls who can stay until midnight or so.”
“Good.” He relaxed again against the pillow. “I mean, I’ve got this crazy schedule right now, but we can find a way to work around it.”
“Sure.” She sounded even drowsier. He had a feeling she wasn’t listening anymore.
“Because here’s the thing, Ruth. I want to go on seeing you. I need to go on seeing you.” He took a deep breath. Do it. “I’ve got a job offer from out of town. I have to move to Park City to take it. But when I do, I’ll come back to see Bec. And I want to see you, too.”
“Okay,” she murmured drowsily. “We can figure it all out later.” He glanced down. Her eyes were closed, her lashes like silk against her cheek.
Had she heard? He wasn’t sure. But at least he’d said it. At least he’d tried to make a beginning. Maybe there’s more going on for you in Antero than you thought about before. More than the brewery or the tavern.
Or maybe it was time to go to sleep. Now that was something he could get behind.
Chapter Seventeen
Peaches was working on her coffee cake when Ruth and Liam arrived the next morning, which meant lots of samples to analyze. Liam seemed perfectly happy to concentrate on his coffee and some peach-adorned crumb cake without talking. But then, he’d talked a lot last night.
I want to go on seeing you. I need to go on seeing you.
How on earth was Ruth supposed to react to that? Better to just pretend to be asleep. And what to say about the fact that he was leaving? She wasn’t even sure she’d heard him right. Was there
anything she could say, anything she had a right to say? They weren’t in a committed relationship, after all. She’d known he was looking for something beyond Antero. She just hadn’t known he was going so far so soon.
It doesn’t matter. You never figured on this being anything more than a fling.
Right. Of course, she didn’t exactly feel that way anymore.
There were so many obstacles already in place. She was the mother of a twelve-year-old. Both of them were consumed by their jobs. With David in town, she couldn’t even think beyond her present right now.
But you’d like to, wouldn’t you?
Yes, all right, she’d like to go on seeing Liam. She’d like to spend a lot more time with him, given her choice. But choice was a luxury right then. He was leaving, and she had a business to run. She didn’t have many varieties of choice available.
And she knew from experience that making important choices when you thought you might be in love was a bad idea. Once upon a time, she’d thought marrying an actor and moving to California was a reasonable idea. She’d found out soon enough her hormones were lousy judges of reasonable.
It’s just sex, Ruth. Just sex. You went into it knowing it was just a fling.
But she didn’t believe that anymore. Something beyond sex was happening between them. She just wasn’t sure that was a good idea, no matter how much she wanted to believe that it might be.
She wasn’t going to get hurt again. She was determined on that point at least.
After a while, Liam seemed to have drunk enough coffee to be coherent. “When are you going to pick up Carol?”
“After the lunch rush. Until then I need to be around here to help Peaches and try to get some cheese finished.”
“Did Brett tell her about her father being here?”
“I asked him not to. I don’t want to get into the whole trip-to-California discussion until I’ve had time to think about it a little more. And as soon as she hears that David’s here, that’s the first thing she’ll ask about.”
“Would you like me to come along?”
She blinked. “Come along?”
“Carol and I get along okay. I like her. Maybe I could help. I could make arrangements with Stanton.”