Nashville Boxed Set #1-3

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Nashville Boxed Set #1-3 Page 23

by Bethany Michaels


  Dillon grabbed my hand and helped me off the stool.

  “Then it’s a good thing I arrived just in time.”

  I was thinking the same thing.

  “How about a tour of the house? Then I’ll show you your room.”

  “Okay,” I said, setting the wine glass down on the counter. “I guess I’ll see you guys later. Thanks for the wine.”

  “Dinner’s at seven, Dillon. Please don’t be late.”

  Dillon checked his watch. “It’s three thirty. Do you think we’re going to get lost or something?”

  “You never know what distractions a young couple can find to keep them busy for hours.”

  Dillon rolled his eyes, I turned red and he led me out of the kitchen and up the stairs.

  “They think we’re doing it,” I said, barely surprising a giggle. Funny how alcohol made you regress to the behavior of an eight-year-old.

  “We are ‘doing it’,” Dillon said in a stage whisper.

  “We are? Everyone will hear.”

  “Not now, silly. Unless…”

  “No. We can’t do it in your parents’ house. That’s just…icky.”

  “I don’t know. If my mother knew how much action the big sofa in the rec room had seen…”

  “Ew. No.”

  We got to the top of the winding staircase and he abruptly pulled me into his arms.

  “Guess I’ll have to settle for a kiss, then.”

  His mouth covered mine and I twined my arms around his neck and let him kiss me. His tongue swept in, teasing all the sensitive points, while his hands moved over my back. I could feel his heat through my clothes and I had the sudden urge to give the couch in the rec room a try after all. I definitely regretted asking for separate sleeping quarters.

  I heard giggles and when Dillon broke the kiss, I realized the whole family was assembled in the downstairs foyer, and we were the exhibit on display.

  “See, I told you,” Dillon’s mother said, shaking her head. “First girl he ever brings home and we barely get a minute with her before he’s gotten her in a compromising position.”

  I felt my cheeks burn.

  “Okay, show’s over,” Dillon said, laughing. “Sorry,” he said in my ear. He still hadn’t let me go. “Nosy bunch.”

  He walked me down the hallway, out of sight of the rest of the family, though I could still hear them whispering below. Picking out our first child’s nursery theme, no doubt.

  “You haven’t brought anyone else home with you? Ever?”

  “Just friends. Guy friends. Never a girl.”

  “Shit.”

  “What?” he asked finally stepping back.

  “They’re going to think I’m your girlfriend.”

  “So?”

  “So your mother was hinting all around the subject of marriage and babies. I’m sure she was trying to figure out how serious we are.”

  “Again, so what? Let them think whatever makes them happy.”

  “I don’t know. It feels like lying. What if one of them asks me something I can’t answer without letting them know we’re just friends with benefits?”

  Dillon stopped and backed me against the wall. His big body blocked me in and he put one arm on the wall at shoulder level, completing his domination.

  I had to admit, that macho stuff of his really turned me on. It was as though he let Bad Dillon out to play.

  His gaze met mine square on with an intensity I hadn’t seen before. “Just tell them the truth. That we’re madly in love and plan to get married, move to the suburbs, and have three sons, all with your beautiful dark hair, named Elvis, Aaron and Presley.”

  “Very funny.”

  “Okay, then I’ll tell them you’re using me for sex.”

  “Somehow I don’t think any mother wants to hear that about her son.”

  “Hmm. Guess you’ll just have to be my girlfriend, then.”

  Something flipped over in my chest as I gazed up into his sparkling hazel eyes. Then the fear crashed over me, replacing the heat with discomfort.

  I squeezed out from the prison of his arms and tugged my sweater down. “I guess that’s best. But just for the weekend.”

  “Deal.” He smiled at me like I’d just given him the gift of a lifetime. He clearly really cared about his family if he was willing to play pretend boyfriend all weekend.

  “Come on. You’re in the yellow room.”

  He led me down the hallway, the gleaming hardwood floors creaking as we walked. The house had so many bedrooms it felt like a hotel.

  He stopped in front of a door at the end of the hallway and opened it, ushering me inside with a hand at the small of my back.

  The room was as gorgeous as the rest of the house. The hardwood floor was softened by a large area rug, oriental, in soft blues, yellows and creams. The walls were a pale yellow and cream curtains flapped at the floor-to-ceiling window, which were open to the fall breeze. The bed was a big antique thing, so high there was a little stool at the side to climb up in it.

  A small dresser with a vase of fresh flowers, a rocking chair with a cozy-looking afghan and a nightstand completed the room. Someone had delivered my beat-up suitcase and it waited for me at the foot of the bed.

  “Bathroom is across the hall. Towels and extra linens are in there.”

  “Okay.”

  “And I got you something.”

  Dillon pulled a small package out of the top drawer of the dresser.

  “What is it?”

  “Open it.”

  I ripped off the paper and stared at the King.

  “I know you wouldn’t feel at home without an Elvis nightlight to keep you company.”

  The gesture surprised me. Leave it to Dillon to be so thoughtful. “Cool. Thanks. Where on Earth did you find it?”

  “Ebay.”

  “Thanks,” I said again. “That was really sweet.” I set the nightlight down on the dresser. “This is amazing. I can’t believe you grew up in a mansion.”

  “It’s not a mansion. And anyway, it’s been paid off for years. It just keeps getting passed down in the family.”

  “Where’s your room?”

  “Right next door.”

  “That’s convenient.”

  He stepped closer and tugged me to him so our bodies pressed together, chest to thigh. He clearly thought it was very convenient. “It could be,” he said in a low voice in my ear.

  I shivered, but pushed him back playfully. “Behave.”

  “I am. You have no idea how much restraint I’m showing right now.”

  I swatted at him again. “Go visit with your family. That’s why we’re here.”

  He pulled away looking conflicted. “What are you going to do?”

  “If you don’t mind, I think I’d really like to lie down and rest for awhile. The catering gig at the Sommet Center last night really took a lot out of me.”

  He nodded. “Sure. I’ll make sure the marriage and baby freaks leave you alone.”

  “Oh, they’re fine. I can take care of myself.”

  “I know. But they are kind of nosy. I wouldn’t blame you if you ran away screaming by the end of dinner.”

  “I like them. They’re nice. Very welcoming to a stranger.”

  He smiled. “I’m glad you like them. I can tell they’re definitely taking to you, too.”

  I wasn’t sure why it mattered so much that they like me. After all, this was probably the only trip I’d ever make to Dillon’s family home. I wasn’t sure when or how our casual sex relationship would end—probably when Dillon got a real girlfriend—but one thing I knew for certain was that even if I was the first girl Dillon brought home, I wouldn’t be the last. That thought made me a little sad for some reason.

  “Okay. Get some rest. I’ll see you later.” Dillon left with a final smile, closing the huge wooden door behind him.

  I stifled a yawn. I really was exhausted. From work the previous night, yeah, but I’d tossed and turned ever since I’d agreed to come
here with him.

  I crawled up into the big bed and pulled an afghan over me, but all I could do was stare at the ceiling and listen to the low murmur of happy voices that drifted through the house. I heard the creak of an ancient front door open and the sounds of the football game in the front yard Dillon had predicted soon drifted up, too. It was as though I wasn’t just watching some family sitcom, but I had somehow been transported into it.

  I knew before I came that Dillon’s family was the polar opposite of mine, but experiencing it in person was another thing entirely. Dillon’s family genuinely seemed to like being together. In my family, we seldom saw each other. It wasn’t that we didn’t care about each other. I mean, you couldn’t go through all the shit we three went through together and not have a bond. I guess, for me, it was just that seeing my sister, and especially my mom, made me remember all the bad times. In Dillon’s family, they got together to remember the good times.

  I was sure there had been good times growing up. There had to be. I just couldn’t think of any right then. Certainly there were no big family dinners or games of pick-up football in the front yard.

  Unable to sleep, I finally went to the window and peeked out at the group below. Dillon was there, of course, as well as his brothers and brother-in-law. His dad seemed to be trying to referee the game. I couldn’t see them, but I could hear the women cheering the men on from the porch. It was shirts versus skins and my libido was very happy that Dillon was a skin.

  Even though the sight of his body was no longer something new, heat spread through my body, as strong as the first time I had gotten a good look. I had proposed that we get together to get the weird awkwardness out of our systems, but the mutual attraction showed no sign of abating. In fact, the more I had him, the more I wanted him. He was just as much fun in bed as he was out of it. I really couldn’t think of why I had been so afraid to take our friendship and add sex. Even though it was a temporary arrangement, it was great.

  Dillon scored a touchdown and I had the sudden urge to join the group. Maybe it was because I knew it wasn’t permanent. It was just for the weekend. Just for the weekend I’d play the part of the girlfriend. When we got back to Nashville, we could go back to the way things were. This weekend was for me.

  * * * *

  Dinner that night was a loud, hectic affair. Several Crock-pots of different varieties of chili bubbled on the sideboard and people served themselves, then found a spot at the long dinner table, the kitchen bar, or in a recliner in front of the television.

  Everyone laughed and told stories and drank wine until the kids were drooping and Dillon’s pregnant sister-in-law finally waddled up the stairs, a hand to her lower back, with her husband helping her along. I had been eating at the kitchen bar and chatting happily with Dillon’s sister about Nashville and my career there when Dillon came up behind me and pressed a kiss to my bare neck.

  “Hey,” I said, turning to smile at him.

  “You two look as thick as thieves over here,” Dillon said, putting his hands on my shoulders and massaging gently. “Don’t believe a thing my sister tells you. She lies.”

  Heather swatted at him. “I do not! We weren’t talking about you, anyway.” Heather didn’t miss how Dillon touched me and she smiled at us. “Becca was telling me about her singing career before you so rudely interrupted us.”

  “You should hear her. She’s got an amazing voice.”

  “You’ve never even heard any of my demos.” I said, turning to look at him. “I could totally suck.” The truth didn’t stop the warm feeling spreading through my body at his compliment.

  “Oh, please, I’ve heard you hum every Elvis song in existence at some time or another around the house.”

  “An Elvis fan, huh?”

  Dillon rolled his eyes. “You have no idea.”

  “Hey, don’t diss the King.”

  Dillon put his hands up in surrender. “Never.”

  “Good.”

  Heather smiled warmly at us both. “You two are so cute together.”

  Dillon took my hand and kissed it. “We are, aren’t we?”

  “Hey, babe,” Dillon’s brother-in-law said, coming to join us. “Do you know where the other bag of corn chips is?”

  Heather gestured towards one of the pantries. “In there, I think. Oh, never mind, I’ll get it. Men can never find anything.”

  Heather got up to retrieve the chips and Dillon pressed another kiss to my hand.

  “Are you exhausted yet?”

  “Getting there.”

  “Too exhausted to get out of here for a while?” The glint in his eye told me exactly what he had in mind and despite being tired, my pulse leapt at the prospect of having Dillon to myself for a bit.

  “What did you have in mind?”

  “Just a drive down to the lake. It’s a little chilly out, but not bad if you wear a sweatshirt.”

  “Sounds great.”

  Dillon made our excuses and we left the house a few minutes later, my face burning red with all the knowing looks from the women and the outright wolf whistles and admonitions to behave from Dillon’s brothers.

  We walked outside and I discovered Dillon was right. The air was still pretty warm. I headed to the car, but Dillon grabbed my hand. “Let’s take the truck,” he said, tugging me towards the garage. “It’s a little muddy down there sometimes and the truck’s got four-wheel drive.”

  Dillon opened the door for me and helped me climb in before going around to his side of the vehicle and sliding in.

  It was a bench seat, so I slid to the middle and after Dillon had backed out of the garage, he threw an arm around my shoulders. I buried my nose in his jacket and inhaled.

  “You okay? Not too bored yet?”

  “No, I’m fine. Don’t worry. I’m having a good time.”

  “Good,” he said and I could hear the smile in his voice.

  With thick trees crowding the roadway, it was pitch dark and I would have had trouble navigating the narrow winding road and the barely marked turn-offs, but it was clear Dillon had been here a few times.

  “So, you bring a lot of girls down here?”

  “Not since high school,” he said, grinning. “Why? Jealous?”

  “You wish.”

  Dillon turned onto a dirt road and it got bumpier. He used both hands to guide the truck through the trees until we suddenly emerged at the bank of a small lake.

  The moon was almost full overhead and the light breeze sent tiny waves of pale yellow light rippling over the surface. Dillon turned off the truck and put his arm around me again.

  “Nice, huh? Quiet.”

  “Yeah.

  “Want to get out?”

  “Are there any wolves?”

  “Scared?”

  “Of wolves? Hell, yeah.”

  Dillon chuckled. “I’ll protect you, don’t worry.”

  We slid out of the truck and Dillon grabbed a blanket and my hand.

  “Careful. There are lots of holes and branches on the ground around here.”

  We picked our way to the edge of the lake where there was a small dock extending out into the water.

  Dillon led me to the end of the dock. We sat down, dangling our feet over the edge, but the water was low enough that we didn’t risk wet shoes.

  We sat there in silence just looking out over the tranquil water together and I took a deep breath of clean, fresh air. The only sounds were of nature: the gentle lap of water at the dock’s edge, the rustling of leaves kicked up by the breeze and deep in the trees, insects chirping goodnights to each other. I felt my whole body relax.

  “Cold?”

  “Maybe a little. But not bad.”

  Dillon wrapped the blanket around both of us and I snuggled into his side.

  “I’m glad you came this weekend,” Dillon said. “I love having you here.”

  “Thanks,” I said. “I’m glad I came, too.”

  Dillon turned and stroked my face. My pulse quickened and before I co
uld blink, he was kissing me. Slowly at first, just teasing my lips with his. He tasted like chili and beer and home and it was perfect. I kissed him back, turning towards him to entwine my fingers in his hair.

  Heat built between us and it wasn’t long before the kisses grew more intense. I licked at his lips and moved to the edge of his jaw where the light scruff of his beard tickled my tongue and cheek. I nipped at his earlobe and he sucked in a breath.

  His hands glided down my sides and he lifted me to straddle his lap. I kissed his beautiful perfect mouth again, using my tongue to explore all the sensitive spots I knew lay inside. But it wasn’t enough. I wanted to feel flesh beneath my palms, so I went to work on his shirt buttons.

  “God, Becca. You drive me crazy. I’ve been wanting to do this all day.”

  “Me, too.” I got his shirt undone and slid my hands inside.

  He jumped. “Cold,” he said.

  “Not for long.” I found his flat nipples and tweaked gently.

  He groaned into my mouth and his hands went to my breasts. He unzipped my sweatshirt and tugged my sweater up. My nipples were already hard and it wasn’t from the cool of the night.

  I pressed into his hands, loving the feel of his large warm palms on my flesh. I reached around under my sweater to unhook my bra. Dillon shoved it up out of the way and lifted me high enough that he could get his mouth on my breast.

  I tugged at his hair, blood racing through my veins. Fluttery heat settled low in my belly.

  “I love how you do that,” I gasped when he lightly bit the very tip of my nipple, then laved it with his soft tongue.

  “Good.” He nipped at the other hard peak and I squirmed against him, wanting more. “I love doing it.”

  He moved his mouth back up the column of my throat and I moved my hands to the button of his jeans, wanting to touch him. The bulge beneath his zipper was going to make it difficult.

  “Up,” he said, getting us both to our feet. He grabbed the blanket and my hand and hurried back up the dock to the truck. He went around the back, let down the tailgate, spread the blanket and gave me a look that sent heat rushing over my skin, despite the cool night.

  “You’re beautiful. You know that? The way the moonlight lights up your skin, you look like an angel.”

  In any other circumstance, I would have laughed, but he looked so earnest, I tried to hold it in.

 

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