Earning Yancy (NSFW #2)
Page 9
I led him into the kitchen, where we piled our plates with spaghetti, salad, and bread. I poured myself a glass of red wine and laughed when Charles insisted that he always drank beer with Italian food.
We carried our plates into the living room. I left the overhead lights off, only turning on a couple of small lamps. The light was dim and romantic as we sat on the couch, discussing what movie to watch.
As I scrolled through Netflix, Charles surprised me when he said, “Why don’t we watch Safe Harbor? I haven’t seen it yet.”
I stopped what I was doing and looked at him, mouth agape. “What?”
Since it was fairly dark, I wasn’t sure, but I think he blushed. “It sounds like a good movie.”
“Okay.” I paused. “You really want to watch this? You’re not saying that just because you think I do?”
Charles cleared his throat. “Yes.”
I set the remote on the table. “Okay, I’m intrigued. You have Bella’s Lullaby as your ringtone for your mom and you want to watch a movie based on a Nicholas Sparks book. Explain how this is possible, please.”
He set his plate on the coffee table and took a swig of his beer. “Well, it started when my dad got sick. My sister and I were spending a lot of time at the house with Mom, helping out and just trying to, I don’t know, be there for her. Of course she and my sister love chick flicks, so we started watching things like the Twilight movies and The Notebook. I mean, I still watch action movies and stuff, but I kinda like the chick flicks.” He paused. “I also liked feeling as though I was doing something to help Mom. Then, when my dad died, Sherri and I spent almost a week after the funeral, holed up with my mom and watching Pretty Little Liars and The Vampire Diaries marathons. We were able to escape the pain together. It’s something special I can do with my family. It was a sad time, but we spent it together and it helped us begin to heal.”
I stared at him, completely speechless. My throat wanted to close up with tears at the wistful expression on his face as he spoke. I felt that inexplicable shifting within me again, as though my heart were making room for pieces of him within it. He was like no other man I’d ever met.
“That’s….really nice. I’m sure your mom and sister enjoyed that time with you as well,” I murmured, my throat tight with emotion. I knew my words were inadequate, but I had no others.
Charles nodded, but said nothing.
I selected the movie and tried to focus on the screen as the opening credits rolled. As we slouched on the sofa next to each other, eating our food, I began to relax and enjoy the film. I was happy that Charles chose to share such a personal part of himself with me. It made me feel as if I could do the same with him. I hadn’t realized until that moment how careful I was about the information I entrusted to him. While we were still getting to know each other, I hadn’t felt comfortable telling him more about my marriage and divorce.
When we finished our food, I paused the movie. “Are you ready for something sweet?” When Charles’ eyes grew heavy lidded, I realized that my words sounded vaguely suggestive. “I mean, uh, I bought a tiramisu this evening. It’s really good.”
“Sure.”
I carried our empty plates into the kitchen on shaky legs and cut two pieces of the dessert. When I returned, I handed Charles his plate and restarted the movie. After we finished the tiramisu, he wrapped an arm around my shoulders, tugging me closer to his body. I let myself lean against him, relishing in his scent and the feel of his frame against mine.
When the movie ended and the credits began to roll, his hand came up and tilted my face toward his. “Thank you for dinner. It was delicious.”
“You’re welcome.”
When his mouth lowered to mine, I welcomed it. It felt natural and right, and I didn’t even notice whether either of us had garlic breath. The kiss spun out, becoming deeper, wetter. I clutched his shoulders as he lowered me back on the sofa, stretching out with his body partially on top of me, yet his weight resting to the side.
As his mouth moved from my lips down my jaw to my neck, I tilted my head to give him better access. The room seemed to grow hazy as he nibbled at my throat, sucking lightly at the skin where my neck met my shoulder. I knew I should say something, try to slow things down.
I ran my hands down his back and beneath the hem of his t-shirt, gliding my fingers along the smooth, hot skin at the base of his spine. The muscles in my abdomen jumped as he mirrored my gesture, sliding his hand under my shirt, across my stomach. He just touched me, not groping or trying to take things farther. I realized he heard me when I said I wanted to take things slowly.
I pulled my mouth away slightly. “What are we doing?” I asked breathlessly.
His eyes twinkling, he said, “Making out on the sofa.”
“I, uh, I…”
He trailed the backs of his fingers down my cheek. “Just a few kisses, Yancy. Nothing more.”
His mouth returned to mine and, this time, our kisses were less frenzied. He seemed to be content doing exactly what we were doing. I let myself fall into the kiss, my brain getting fuzzy. Then the doorbell rang.
At first I didn’t hear it, but Charles pulled away. I tried to lift my head and, unable to continue kissing his lips, my mouth latched onto the skin of his throat.
“Goddammit,” he growled.
Since I’d never heard Charles swear like that, it pierced through the fog of desire that surrounded me.
The doorbell rang again and my eyes widened. Shit, whoever was at the door was going to wake up Carolena. I shoved at Charles’ shoulders and scrambled off the couch. I dashed to the front door just as the doorbell rang again. I planned to give whoever it was on the other side an ass chewing they wouldn’t soon forget. It was after ten at night. Without looking out the window, I jerked the door open.
My long lost ex-husband, Cooper Stevens, stood on the other side, hand raised.
Chapter Thirteen
“YOU HAVE GOT to be fucking kidding me!” I stared at Cooper, unable to figure out which I was more upset about, him having the gall to leave for a year and show up unannounced or because he interrupted an extremely satisfying make-out session.
He stood on my porch, mouth hanging open at my exclamation. I rarely yelled at him when we were married and almost never cussed. The one time I had truly lost my temper had been when he was supposed to have been watching Carolena and hadn’t changed her dirty diapers.
The shock on his face morphed into something suspiciously like anger when his eyes moved over my shoulder to something behind me. I glanced back and saw that Charles had come out of the living room and was standing behind me with his arms crossed.
It was easy to see what we had been up to just by looking at him. His mouth was redder than usual, his cheeks flushed, and his hair was mussed from my hands. I knew I had to look similar. Still, I didn’t feel embarrassed or ashamed. I had been divorced for a year, I was allowed to date again. Hell, it was odd that I hadn’t dated before now.
I looked back at Cooper to see that he had moved closer, as though he intended to push his way into the house. I lifted a hand in the universal sign for stop now. His brows lowered and he had the nerve to look annoyed that I wouldn’t allow him in.
“What in the hell are you doing here, Coop?” I asked sharply.
“I wanted to talk to you.”
I felt my eyes narrow. “Oh really? Well, I wanted to talk to you about six months ago and, as I recall, you were nowhere to be found. Incidentally, someone else wants to talk to you; the Attorney General’s office. You know, for the child support you owe me for the last six months!” I hissed the last two words as I stepped forward into the doorway.
Coop had the intelligence to back up quickly. Or maybe it was sheer self-preservation. I didn’t give a shit. I had decided what pissed me off the most was his nerve at showing up at my house at 10 p.m. and acting as though he had every right to be here.
His eyes snapped over my shoulder again just as I felt the heat of Charles’
body along my spine. “Who the hell are you?” he demanded.
Charles’ voice was calm as he answered Coop’s question with a question. “You first.”
“I’m Yancy’s husband.”
I sputtered for a full ten seconds and grabbed the door jamb with both hands in order to keep from wrapping them around Coop’s neck. Never, ever in my life had I wanted to commit violence against another person. Until tonight. Finally, I was able to speak. “WHAT?!” Without realizing it, my hand lifted and I shoved Cooper in the chest, hard. “Are you fucking high?” I yelled. “We’ve been divorced for a year. I haven’t been your wife in any sense for a very long time.”
I sucked in a deep breath past the constriction in my throat. The rational part of me said that I was giving Coop too much power over me by blowing my stack, but it also felt good in a way that only bad things could. I literally felt as though my scalp was burning from the force of my anger. I felt Charles’ hands clasp my waist. Whether he intended to hold me back or move me out of the way, I don’t know because Cooper chose that moment to say the one thing that made me snap.
“I miss you,” he said, blinking huge puppy dog eyes at me.
I heard a low growl and started to tell Charles to back off, that I was handling this. Then I realized the growl hadn’t come from him, but me. In fact, it was a damn good thing that Charles was holding my waist because I lunged forward, my mind blank of everything except rage. “You miss me? What about your daughter? Did you miss her? Jesus, you are a complete fuckwad! I’m an adult, I can take care of myself, but your daughter needed you and you were nowhere to be found!”
“Leave now,” Charles said in a stony voice. “Or I’m going to let go and enjoy watching her kick your ass all over the front yard.”
Cooper stared at me as though he’d never seen me before as he back up all the way to the edge of the porch. His arms pinwheeled when his foot hit air. He stumbled backward down the front steps before he turned abruptly and scurried to his car.
I watched him go, my hands planted on the door frame and my chest heaving as I sucked in air in an effort not to scream and chase him down for the ass beating I sincerely wanted to administer.
Charles’ arm hooked around my waist and he lifted me from the doorway, shutting the front door with a soft click and locking it.
I struggled against his hold, unable to stand still for one more second. I’d never, in all thirty-one years of my life, felt so much rage. I abruptly realized that I was so angry because finally, finally, I’d found something special and Cooper managed to put a damper on my happiness just by showing up.
Charles was much stronger than I realized because he turned me, pressing my back against the door and leaned his body into mine. The air left my lungs in a rush as he used his weight, which was more than I would have thought, to trap me between his body and the unyielding door.
His hands cupped my face, forcing my eyes to meet his. They were a blue so bright it almost hurt me to look at him. “Yancy, please calm down.” He rested his forehead against mine. “Take a deep breath with me.”
I felt his chest expanding against mine as he took in a huge gulp of air. When he released it and began to take another, I mimicked him. Finally, my heart rate began to slow and the red haze that covered my vision receded. We stood there for a while, just breathing together.
Once I was calm, Charles lifted his head. “Better?” he asked.
I nodded and he levered himself away from me. I straightened and smoothed my shirt down, wishing my emotions were as easy to restore to order.
Charles watched me closely. “What just happened?” he asked softly.
I sighed. “I need more wine if we’re going to talk about this.”
He nodded and we walked back into the living room. I grabbed my glass and refilled it with the bottle that was sitting on the coffee table.
“Do you want another beer?” I asked.
“I’ll get it. You sit down and try to relax. I’ll be right back and you can tell me what that was.”
I flopped down on the couch as he walked into the kitchen, draining my wineglass in one gulp. I filled it once more and waited for Charles to return.
He came back to the couch and sat next to me, sucking back half his beer in one swallow. When he was done, he set the bottle on the table and rested his arm over the back of the couch.
“Okay. I’m guessing that was the ex-husband,” he stated.
I nodded and took another sip of wine. Before the one I’d just slammed back, I’d already had two glasses and I was beginning to feel the effects.
“I’m sensing there’s a lot more to this story,” he said.
I sighed and set my glass on the table. I probably needed to slow down. As much as I wanted to get shitfaced, I knew it would be counterproductive.
“It’s a very long story.”
Charles wrapped a hank of my hair around his finger. “I’ve got time.”
“Well, Coop and I met three years ago. He swept me off my feet and, for the first time in my life, I did something without planning out every minute detail. We got married within a year of meeting each other and then I got pregnant with Carolena. It wasn’t planned. I thought we both wanted to wait before starting a family, but surprises happen. Unfortunately, I didn’t understand that when Coop said, I want to wait, he really meant, I don’t want children.” I took a deep breath. “After she was born, he had a rough time adjusting. Or at least that’s what I told myself. He wouldn’t get up at night to change diapers or help feed her. The few times I left her with him so I could go grocery shopping or run errands, I would come back to find her in her crib, wearing a dirty diaper and screaming. That’s when things began to unravel. Then, when she was two months old, she was diagnosed with cystic fibrosis. Cooper didn’t want a kid, much less a sick one, and he left us. Within six months of the divorce, he stopped paying child support and disappeared. Until tonight, I haven’t seen or talked to him in almost a year.”
After I told my story, I realized it was not nearly as long as I thought. In fact, it was a very short, very sad tale. I grabbed my glass and drank half in one large gulp. When I looked at Charles, he was staring at me with an inscrutable expression on his face, his fingers still entwined in my hair.
“What are you thinking?” I blurted.
He began to play with the hank of hair he held. “I’m thinking I shouldn’t have held you back. If anyone deserves to get their ass kicked, it’s him. And you definitely deserve a chance to get your pound of flesh,” he murmured.
His eyes were that same painful blue they had been earlier, burning into mine with cold, angry fire, yet his hand in my hair was very gentle. The incongruity was unsettling.
I had to escape from that probing stare, so I closed my eyes, leaned my head back against the couch, and covered my face with my hand. “I can’t believe I lost my temper like that. I never act that way. I never yell and I’ve never in my life wanted to hit someone before.”
“That’s not true,” Charles murmured.
My hand fell away as I turned to stare at him. “What?”
He smirked slightly. “I’ve seen you lose your temper before and, at the time, you smacked me in the chest with your name plate.”
My mouth opened and closed several times before I sighed and closed my eyes again. “You’re right. Maybe I should just avoid men in general. They obviously bring out the worst in me,” I muttered.
Charles’ hand fisted in my hair, causing my eyes to pop open. Despite all the insanity that surrounded us this evening, he’d always been gentle with me, even when he gave me a love bite. He’d been careful not to leave marks on my skin.
At first I wanted to snap at him to take his damn hands off me, then I realized that he wasn’t hurting me. He merely wanted my full attention.
“Don’t you dare let him have that much control over your life, Yancy. You can’t let the behavior of one asshole influence your choices forever.”
I quirked an eyebro
w at him. “What about two assholes?”
He scowled at me for a moment until he recognized that I was just yanking his chain. “I believe I’ve redeemed myself,” he said.
We smiled at each other.
“I suppose you have. And I have blackmail material to hold over your head.”
He gave me a quizzical look.
“You and your addiction to chick flicks,” I explained.
Suddenly, he lunged at me, flattening me against sofa, his hands ruthless as he tickled me.
I squealed and bucked. “Stop. Please, please, please stop!”
We were both breathless and laughing when he finally stopped digging his fingers into my ribs. I stared up at him, with his messy hair and five o’clock shadow, and felt another shift in my heart, this one bigger than before.
I cupped his face with both hands. “Thank you.”
He raised his brows. “What?”
I lifted my head and pressed my lips against his. “For taking care of me and making me feel better.”
His eyes grew heated in a different way this time. He rested his weight on his elbows and cupped either side of my head with his hands. We didn’t speak. Instead, he lowered his head and kissed me like he’d never kissed me before.
I felt it in my soul. Tears gathered in my eyes at the tenderness beneath the surface. No one had ever treated me with such care or consideration before. It was beautiful. I was in danger of falling for this man hard and fast.
He rested his forehead against mine, his breathing harsh. “What are you doing to me, Yancy?” he murmured.
“I don’t know, but, whatever it is, you’re doing it to me, too,” I whispered.
He lifted his head and stared down at me, the expression in his eyes tender. There was something else in his face, something that I felt all over my body.
“So what now?” he asked, his face serious.
I swallowed and licked my lips. “I think we need to be very careful.” His face began to close down and I felt a tightness in my chest that I didn’t like one little bit. “I may not understand what I’m feeling, but I like it. A lot. But I can’t just do whatever I want any more. I have a little girl to take care of and I need to be sure of my feelings before I bring her into this because she is the most important person in my life right now.”