“Go ahead.” I cross my arms over my chest, completely ignoring the tingling between my legs. “Laugh. Get it all out.”
That makes him laugh harder. He gasps, trying to catch his breath.
I slap his arm. “Stop laughing. This isn’t funny.”
“I’m sorry,” he says, sucking in air. “You’re right; it isn’t funny. But you should’ve seen the look on your face.”
“You don’t look sorry.” I scowl.
Noah laughs again, and Tommy saves the day.
“Come on, Lennon.” Tommy helps me out of Noah’s lap and guides me into the office and over to a plush chair. Tenderly, he holds an ice pack to my head.
“Thank you, but I can get it.” I replace Tommy’s hand with mine and close my eyes.
A couple of seconds pass, and when the throbbing starts to simmer down I ask, “Do I have a big goose egg?”
A chair squeaks next to me when Tommy sits down.
“It’s okay. You won’t hurt my feelings. I probably look like I’m trying to sprout a horn,” I say.
“You still look as beautiful as ever.”
My eyes pop open when I hear Noah’s smooth voice. He gently guides the ice pack off of my head as I glance around for Tommy.
“He went back to work.” Ever so slowly, Noah brushes his thumb across the bump on my head. “You really shouldn’t hurt yourself,” he says softly. “I don’t like it.”
Something in the room shifts. The temperature maybe? My body definitely heats. The smell of aftershave and grease tickles my senses. This man is overwhelming and intoxicating, and I can’t help but lean closer to him, the pull in my belly impossible to ignore.
“Yes, well, that makes two of us,” I note.
His thumb continues stroking slowly back and forth. The air around us thickens, our breath mingles, and with each passing second, the urge to kiss him grows stronger. I’m tempted to pull away, break whatever spell he has me under, but I don’t want to do that.
What I want is him.
“I’m not allowed to kiss you, right?” I ask quietly. “Because that would be against the rules?”
Noah’s eyes drop to my mouth. “Right,” he says, nodding.
I lean forward just a fraction, the pull strengthening as his gaze darkens. “I’ve never really liked rules.”
Noah’s tongue darts out, wetting his bottom lip. His eyes flick to mine and then back to my mouth. “Me either.”
Then his lips crash against mine in a first kiss to end all first kisses. Teeth nipping, tongues searching, frenzied hands grabbing, it’s a better than anything I’ve ever experienced. And if there’s one thing I know now, it’s that I definitely like breaking rules, especially if Noah is involved.
“Lennon.” My name is but a prayer falling from Noah’s lips. He pulls back just enough to cup my cheeks in his large, warm hands. Once again his lips find mine, only this time his kiss is soft, sensual, and filled with so much passion I’m afraid my heart will explode from it.
Literally.
My heart slams against my ribs, and I’m unsure if it’s because we’re finally kissing, or simply because I haven’t been kissed like this in way too long. Either way, it doesn’t matter. I’m lost in the way he makes me feel. The way his tongue plunges in and out of my mouth as though he loves the taste of me and can’t get enough.
Rolling his chair forward, Noah gets as close as he can. With each passing second, our kiss grows stronger, and I’m relieved that he hasn’t pulled away. Because if he pulls away, he’ll likely remind himself that we’re just supposed to be friends, and Noah Cunningham and I are certainly not meant to be just friends.
Pushing one hand into my hair, Noah cradles the back of my head while his other hand roams down my side, skimming along the hem of my shirt and—
“Hey, boss?”
The door flies open. Noah pulls back at the sound of Tommy’s voice.
“Shit. Sorry.” Spinning on his heel, Tommy darts out of the office as fast as he came in.
I don’t have much time to process the whole situation because in my head, my lips are still plastered to his. But the temperature in the room has drastically dropped. Our warm bubble is gone, and in its place is an awkwardness I’m not fond of.
Noah runs a hand down his face. “Fuck,” he hisses.
Rolling his chair back, he shoves to his feet. Next thing I know, he’s gone, and I’m left sitting in his office, staring at the empty chair he just vacated.
Noah doesn’t come back for several minutes, and when he does it’s only to rip me apart a little bit more. He doesn’t tell me to go home, but the look on his face is all shame and guilt—not something I ever want to see again in relation to me. That’s when it hits me: I shouldn’t have pushed him. He told me he didn’t want any sort of relationship, and I should’ve respected that.
“You can go ahead and go.” Noah’s eyes land on everything in the room except mine. “Tommy’s gonna give me a ride home.”
Slowly, I stand up. “Can we talk about this?”
“There’s nothing to talk about.” Looking at the floor, Noah shoves his hands in his pockets. “We kissed. It was a mistake.”
His words sting, and I want to throw them back in his face because that kiss wasn’t a mistake. Not in the least. But it’s no use. He believes what he believes, and why should I push him? If there’s one thing I’ve learned in my twenty-four years of life, it’s that you can’t force someone to want you.
Parent, friend, or man.
“What about your ankle?”
“My ankle is fine,” he snaps. “It was a fucking sprain, Lennon. It’s not like I broke the damn thing. I didn’t even need you to drive me here today. I did it so I could spend time with you, which was also a damn mistake.”
Swallowing hard, I do my best to suppress the emotion crawling up my throat.
I will not break in front of him.
I will cry—that is inevitable—but he will not have the satisfaction of seeing my tears. Without so much as a nod, I grab my things and walk away.
Asshole.
Noah didn’t text the rest of the day Monday. I spent all of Tuesday setting up my sewing room at home, working on sketches, and reviewing various designs. I basically spent the rest of the evening waiting for Noah to call or text, but nothing. When Charlotte calls on Wednesday evening wanting to have dinner and a few drinks, and I jump at the chance.
Now we’re occupying a booth at Dirty Dicks, the local bar, as we shove our faces with grease-fueled food. My mother would be appalled, but thankfully my mother isn’t here, and right now I need to feed my feelings because they’re hurt.
Very hurt.
In fact, I’ll probably need chocolate after the grease, and wine after that.
“Men suck.” Charlotte pops a French fry in her mouth. “They just do. And not just the Oh my God, yes, keep doing it kind of suck, but the kind where you want to throat-punch them, kick them in the nuts, and watch them fall to their knees in pain.”
My hand freezes midair as I stare at Charlotte.
“What? Too much?” she asks, shoveling another bite in her mouth.
I shake my head and finish off the last of my burger. “No, not too much,” I mumble before swallowing. “That’s pretty spot on with how I feel. Although I don’t really want to see Noah fall to his knees in pain. Worship, maybe, but not pain.”
“To each her own.” Charlotte shrugs. “So what are you going to do?”
“No clue.” The waitress stops by and picks up my empty plate, so I wait for her to leave before finishing. “I’ve never had a man turn me down. Maybe he’s just not in to me.”
“No.”
Bless Charlotte.
She shakes her head adamantly. “Impossible. Have you seen yourself? You’re gorgeous. I bet any man in this bar would kill for the chance to be with you.”
“You really think so?” I glance around. There are a whole lot of good-looking cowboys in here, but no one that grabs my attenti
on quite the way Noah does.
“I know so.” Charlotte takes a drink and scoots out of the booth. “Watch this.”
“Charlotte. Charlotte.” I hiss her name several times, but she doesn’t turn around. My eyes nearly bug out of my head when I see her hips swaying seductively from side to side. Charlotte is beautiful, with curves in all the places I’ll never have curves, and I’m crazy jealous of her hourglass figure.
Without a care in the world, she saunters up to a group of men hovering around a pool table. Although I can’t hear what they’re saying, I do see the appreciative looks she’s getting. They all laugh and talk, and before I know it, she’s heading back.
Waggling her brows, Charlotte smirks. “We’ve got next game.”
“But I don’t know how to play pool,” I say, glancing back toward the group of men, two of whom are looking at me. One of them waves, flashing me a friendly smile, and I wave back.
“Those two fine-looking men are Rhett and Cooper. They’re twins,” she says in an excited whisper.
“I see that,” I whisper back. “But it doesn’t change the fact that I don’t know how to shoot pool.”
“Yes, but Cooper does, and one thing that’s sure to get your mind off Noah is that man pressing you up against the pool table as he shows you how to hold the stick,” she says suggestively.
Oh Lord. “I’m going to need alcohol for this.”
Raising my arm, I flag our waitress, and in a matter of minutes Charlotte and I are staring at four shot glasses filled with Southern Comfort.
“To friends,” she says.
Clinking my glass against hers, I smile. “To friends.”
I tip my head back, eyes watering as the whiskey burns a path down my throat.
“Holy shit,” Charlotte hisses, pressing the back of her hand to her mouth. “That is the most disgusting shot I’ve ever had. Next time I pick the flavor.” She cringes, a tremor running through her body, and I can’t help but laugh.
“Deal.”
“You ladies about ready?” The deep southern drawl pulls my eyes upward.
One of the twins Charlotte talked to is standing next to the table, his blue eyes shining and twin dimples winking, and good God I’m so far out of my league right now that I can’t even see the damn stadium.
I’m having mixed feelings about playing pool with this guy, and not because I don’t find him attractive. Because I do. Very much so. And because oddly enough, I feel like I’m cheating on Noah. Which is absolutely absurd, because Noah doesn’t want me.
My stomach churns at that thought, and I begin to second-guess the greasy food and shot of whiskey.
Charlotte catches my attention and smiles as though she understands the craziness going on in my head. It must be a woman thing. And then, because she’s so amazing, she says, “Almost, Coop. I can call you Coop, right?” she asks, but keeps talking, not giving him a chance to respond. “Lennon has one more shot, and then we’ll be right there.”
Cooper gives us a lazy smile, raps his knuckles on the table twice, and walks back over to join his friends.
Grabbing the shot glass, I bring it to my lips and tip my head back, allowing the amber liquid to wash away any and all thoughts of Noah.
Noah who?
Okay, who am I kidding, it didn’t really work, but damn it I wanted it to. And if you want something bad enough, you have to make it happen. That’s another thing I’ve learned in my twenty-four years. Right now I really want to not think about Noah and his stupid lips that aren’t at all soft and his dumb hair that isn’t sexy—
“Here, do this one too,” Charlotte says, handing me her second shot. “You look like you could use it. You are breathing, right? Because your face is turning blotchy and red.”
I nod. “Heat rash, maybe? I get them all the time,” I say, taking the glass from Charlotte. I chug the last shot. My arms and legs begin to tingle, my lips getting numb.
I’ll regret this tomorrow, but tonight I don’t care.
It’s been two days since I kissed Lennon, and I haven’t stopped thinking about her since. That’s not from lack of trying. I’ve buried myself in work, gotten my bike taken care of, and even cleaned out the gutters. But nothing fucking works. She’s stuck in my head like an old, familiar song.
That damn kiss.
It caught me off guard. A kiss isn’t supposed to affect me the way that one did, and I hate to admit that it scared the shit out of me. I haven’t been this attracted to a woman since Kim, and she nearly destroyed me.
But I can’t compare Kim and Lennon, mostly because I don’t know much about Lennon, except that she’s a walking sex bomb with a heart of gold who seems smart as hell. A lethal combination if I’ve ever seen one.
I tried to push her away, tried to just be friends, but when she sat in front of me in my office, practically fucking me with her eyes, I lost it. Her warm body pressed against mine, lips softer than butter, and don’t even get me started on the breathy little moans she made while I was kissing her. She consumed me. All it took was the touch of her lips against mine, and the battle was lost.
A battle I needed to win.
And that’s when I got scared. I don’t have time to be consumed. It’s as simple as that.
At least that’s what I keep telling myself.
It’s a damn good thing Tommy walked in when he did, or I would have taken it too far. If kissing Lennon sets my body on fire, I can’t even imagine what it would be like if I had her naked.
Okay, I can imagine, but I can’t go there.
I absolutely cannot go there.
Except I want to.
Especially after the way I hurt her, and I did hurt her. It was written all over her face, and the look in her eyes has haunted me every second of the last two days.
Grabbing a beer from the fridge, I walk outside and sit on the porch swing, my eyes instantly locking on Lennon’s driveway. She’s still not home. I should know; I’ve been watching, waiting for her car to pull up so I can go talk to her.
Don’t have a fucking clue what I’ll say, but I need to say something. We sure as hell can’t leave things like this.
My phone vibrates in my pocket, and when my mom’s number pops up on the screen, I push all thoughts of Lennon to the side.
“Hi, Daddy!”
“Hi, princess!”
My heart melts at the sound of Nova’s voice. Sure, I’ve talked to her twice a day since she left, but it’s not the same. I miss her being here—her presence, her toys scattered from one end of the house to the other, her sweet laughter filling the silence.
“How’s your camping trip?”
My parents had the bright idea to take a road trip with their RV, and of course they insisted on bringing Nova. I, on the other hand, was not invited. Which I was absolutely cool with. A week to myself? Hell yes.
“It’s fun!” she squeals.
The background noise coming through the phone is almost too much, and I plug my other ear, hoping to hear Nova better.
“We went swimming and saw the mountains and then Papa took me to ride go-karts.”
“Go-karts?”
“Uh-huh.”
“That sounds like fun. Did you beat Papa?”
“Of course I did,” she says, as though I shouldn’t have to ask.
“Good girl. What else have you been doing?”
“We played golf and went swimming again, and then Nana had to buy me a new swimming suit. It’s pink and purple!”
“Why did Grandma have to buy you a new swimming suit?”
“I ripped a hole in the butt.”
I can hear my mom say something in the background, and whatever it is makes Nova laugh.
“Nana said my tush was hanging out.”
“You farted, didn’t you? Blew the butt right out of your suit. I told you your farts are toxic.”
“No, Daddy,” she says, giggling.
Nova’s laugh is infectious, and I find myself laughing along with her.
&nb
sp; Next thing I know, she’s rushing off the phone. “Daddy, my food is here. I gotta go. I miss you and I love you.”
“I love you, too,” I say, but my little girl is already gone.
“Hi, sweetie,” Mom says, having taken the phone from Nova. “Are you enjoying your free time? Getting some work done around the house like you wanted?”
I look down at my ankle, which is still slightly swollen after the work I’ve put it through the last few days, but feeling much better. I know if I tell her about the accident, she’ll turn into a mother hen. “Nah, just been catching up on extra work down at the shop.”
“That’s good, honey. Just remember to take some time for yourself too. Enjoy the quiet while you’ve got it.”
The quiet is actually driving me insane.
“I’m trying.”
There’s some commotion in the background, and then Mom says, “Okay, I gotta go before my food gets cold.”
“All right, call me again in the morning?”
“We will, sweetie.”
“And make sure you’re keeping Nova on her sleep schedule. I don’t want her getting off of it or I’ll never get her back on.”
“Bedtime is eight o’clock. We’ve got it. Now I have to go. I love you!”
The phone disconnects and then rings again a few seconds later.
“Forget something?” I ask, answering without looking at the screen.
“No, but you did, dumbass.”
I frown at Mikey’s harsh tone.
“Lennon’s here,” he adds.
My heart hammers in my chest. “Where’s here?”
“Dirty Dicks.”
I fly off of the porch swing. “Dirty Dicks? What the hell is Lennon doing at Dirty Dicks?”
“Well, by the looks of it, she’s getting cozy with your cousin.”
Son of a bitch. “Coop or Rhett?”
“Coop.”
“Don’t let him touch her. I’ll be right there.”
“Too late. He was showing her how to shoot pool. Now he’s helping her with darts.”
An image of Coop pressed against Lennon’s back as he wraps his hand around hers pops into my head. Fuck!
“Keep an eye on her,” I growl, launching myself off the porch.
The Truth About Lennon Page 5