The Only Thing

by Marie Harte

  He shifted and groaned, pulling his sore ribs.

  “Here, hold on.”

  He opened his eyes to see Hope there, stuffing pillows under his back and neck, letting him sit semi-propped in the middle of the bed.

  “J.T., I’m sorry.”

  He grunted. Good. She apologized.

  “I just felt guilty for all you suffered, and I wasn’t there with you when you needed help.”

  “You’re here now.”

  She nodded and smiled, and he felt as if the sun had risen, the light of her smile covering him better than her blanket did. She must have covered him up, because he’d been hot when he’d fallen asleep. Now he felt comfortable under the covers.

  Hope lay down next to him and leaned up on her elbow, on her side. She shifted the blanket down to his waist and drew light circles over his chest. He swore her fingertip sank through cotton, muscle, and bone, touching the heart of him.

  “I’m here now.” She nodded. “I should also admit I don’t feel like a very good girlfriend. And no, I’m not calling us fake or pretend anymore. I’m sorry if that bothers you, but I’ve felt really close to you for a while now. You’re right. We do have fun together. You make me laugh, and you make me smile. I like you a lot.”

  He swallowed. “You said that.” A much better thing to confess than “People who love each other stick together.” What the hell was wrong with him? Telling a woman you loved her before she said it was a recipe for disaster.

  Although she didn’t seem upset. Maybe she’d ignored it, thinking he said it in the heat of the moment. But he meant it. Every word. Again, instead of running—or in his case, wheezing—for the hills, he wanted to hug Hope close and show her how much he loved her.

  She eased her hand under his shirt and teased his belly with gentle, barely there touches. He had the urge to really show her what he felt.

  It had been four days since they’d made love. Not a long stretch of time, but with Hope, it felt like forever. With her, he could always rise to the occasion. Even now. Despite his injuries, he started responding.

  It didn’t help that her clever fingers kept brushing under the waist of his pants. She untied them and pushed them down a little, scratching his lower abdomen with her kitten-sharp nails.

  His dick spiked. From semi-aroused to a brick between his thighs in seconds. He tried to exert some control and got nowhere. Fuck, it felt good to have her hands on him. He wouldn’t worry about his erection. It just was. She could ignore it.

  “Yes,” Hope was saying as she pushed his pants down. He hadn’t bothered with underwear, not wanting the hassle of dealing with too many clothes when he had to take care of business. The loose sweatpants were easier to work with. She slid them under his ass to mid-thigh, the blanket suddenly gone as well.

  He had to clear his throat to speak. His heart raced, and his entire body felt sensitive to the slightest breeze. “Hope?”

  “I’m so sorry. A good girlfriend would help her man. Make him comfortable.”

  Comfortable? He ached in more than just his ribs now.

  She kept apologizing and leaned over to kiss his stomach. He tensed as if turned to granite. Then she moved lower still, to his pelvis. Then his inner thighs.

  He couldn’t part his legs because his lowered pants held him in place. But Hope’s hot little hands and even hotter mouth showed she didn’t seem to mind.

  “I’m just so incredibly sorry,” she whispered over his dick. Semi-propped up, he had a front-row seat, watching that silky blond head go down over him while her lips threatened to suck him dry.

  “Shit. Hope, honey.” He groaned and reached for her head. Instead of pulling her off, as he’d intended, he urged her to continue, threading his fingers through the golden glow of her hair. “Yeah, that’s it. Oh fuck. You feel so good.”

  She moaned, and to his pleased shock, he saw her put a hand down her own pants, fingering herself while she blew him. It was the hottest thing ever, and despite the pain that came from an increase in his breathing, the ecstasy of her mouth centered him on nothing but Hope.

  Her small hands cupped his balls, and he jerked in her mouth, the movement hurting oh so good.

  “Gonna come, honey. So fucking hard,” he rasped and would have pumped faster. But Hope suddenly held him down by a hip and bobbed faster. Up and down, sucking like she couldn’t get enough of him.

  He wanted to hold on, to let her quick fingers draw out her enjoyment, but he couldn’t wait.

  “I’m coming,” he moaned and felt the pleasure curl in his limbs, his torso, then flow from his balls out his body. He filled her mouth, continuing to thrust until he was spent. When she sucked harder, groaning and coming under her own finger, he pushed deeper, wanting to give her the last of him.

  She sucked him all down and pulled her mouth away, her lips swollen and rosy from working him over. After righting his clothes, she pulled the blanket back to his waist and laid her head on his uninjured side, by his shoulder. She gently hugged him.

  He felt no discomfort at all, awash in the endorphins flooding his body. Screw Tylenol 3. All he needed was a little bit of Hope to keep him floating free of pain.

  “That was…” He didn’t have the right words. “Thank you.”

  She smiled against his arm; he could feel it. “You’re welcome.”

  They stayed like that for a while, the joy in just being together enough to soothe him.

  “We never did talk about your past lovers,” Hope said out of the blue.

  “We really need to work on your after-sex talk.”

  She laughed. “Well, since we’re now an official couple, we might as well get to know each other’s dirty secrets.” She seemed to tense against him.

  He waited for the claustrophobia to set in, that feeling of being tied down to one woman stirring an itch to take off and be free. But it didn’t come. Just more proof he’d fallen for her.

  “Okay, Hope. You go first.”

  “Wait. I told you about my exes.”

  “You told me some about them. But I’d like to know more. And besides, you brought it up. You go first.”

  “Fine.” She sighed and ran her fingers over his chest. He’d have purred if he’d been a cat. “I’ve dated a lot of guys who didn’t fit me. You met Greg. He was cute but too controlling. At the end, he’d gone from verbally abusive to scary. I was afraid it might escalate, so I left. Well, that and I found out he’d been cheating on me.”

  “Ouch.” He kissed the top of her head.

  “Yeah. Before him, I dated men I thought would give me what I needed.”

  “Oh? What’s that?”

  “Someone strong. I wanted a confident type of character, but I kept finding dominant personalities with little give. And they were handsome, muscular men. At least I picked good-looking assholes. Count yourself included.”

  He frowned at the ceiling. “Thanks so much.”

  She snickered. “I’m kidding. You’re the first guy in a long time to treat me like I have a brain in my head and like my opinions matter. But you’re not a pushover.” She sounded shy when she added, “And I like how you take charge in bed. We’re good together.”

  “You got that right.” He smiled. “You’re a strong personality yourself. You can’t deal with a wimp, and an alpha type is just going to piss you off. Me? I’m the best of both worlds. Laid-back, a beast at work and in the gym. Oh, and in bed, but you knew that. So is that all you got? No dark secrets?”

  “Well, if you must know, when it comes to the prank wars, I usually beat everybody. I pretend it’s my brothers doing all the mean stuff, but it’s really me.”

  “Prank wars?”

  “Oh yeah. Every year, one of us starts messing with someone else in the family. Fake dog poop in your yard, one shoe missing from each pair in your closet, short-sheeted bedsheets, you name it.
Well, back when Ava and Landon first started dating, I’m the one who put the blow-up doll in his bed.”

  “What’s this?”

  “Theo took the credit, but he and I both know it was me.” She smiled down at him. “I found this blow-up doll at a sex shop, and she looked like Ava. It was weird.”

  “Wait. What were you doing at a sex shop?”

  “Birthday gag gift for a friend. So I bought the doll and dressed it in Jameson’s Gym clothes. I left it in Landon’s bed, and when he was showing Ava around his place for the first time, she found it.” They both started laughing. “It was classic. I’ll never forget the shock and embarrassment on Landon’s face.”

  “Yeah, that’s a keeper. Your brother…” J.T. shook his head. “I get that he loves you, but he’s kind of annoying.”

  “They all are. I’m the only girl among all my cousins and siblings. I get coddled way too much, except for Theo, who’s a good nine years younger than me. It was so I couldn’t breathe when I was a kid, my brothers constantly making sure other kids treated me nice. I mean, I was thankful to have a tight family. But geez, it was hard to date.”

  He grinned. “I tried to help Del, but she pretty much kicked my tail if I got too close. She was always a hard-ass. Rena, now, she was a sweet thing. Still is. So I took out my defensive frustration on her. Safest girl at school, aside from Del.”

  “I can see that. You’re actually a lot like my brothers. And my dad.” Hope frowned. “Is that a good thing?”

  “It is if we share positive qualities. Anything annoying and no, you must be wrong.”

  She grinned. “Okay. Your turn. What are your deep, dark secrets?” She paused, and he wondered if she’d ask about Trish and the others. Instead she said, “Can you tell me about your mom?”

  He’d known she might ask something that personal. To his surprise, he wanted to share. “Bridget Webster was an angel, according to my dad. Now you talk to Aunt Caroline, and you get a reality check. Yeah, Mom was a hottie. She was kind, loving, and stubborn as all get-out. Dad tends to forget that part.

  “I don’t remember too much of her, and that used to make me feel bad. But hell, I was three when she died of cancer. I sincerely think she was the love of Dad’s life. He just faded after that. It was hard the next few years. I remember bad times, like constant sadness, darkness. Not literal dark, but—”

  “I understand.” She kissed his shoulder, and he sighed, feeling her care to his toes.

  “Dad met Penelope, Del’s mom, right after Mom passed. She was a diversion, I think, and then she got pregnant. That woke him up. Things were better for a while, until she had Del. But I think Dad was always kind of down, even when married to her.

  “She was so pretty, but she wasn’t all that nice. Especially when Dad wasn’t around. He used to work his ass off with the shop, and we had some lean times where he worried it would go under. But it didn’t. Anyhow, so Penelope wanted a better life than that of a mechanic’s wife. She did a lot of stuff I think I know but I’m not sure about. Even to this day, Dad won’t talk about it.”

  “Must have been rough.”

  “It was. I didn’t make it any easier, and I was just a kid. Penelope died in a car accident, high, no doubt, with her lover. Then it was just Liam, Del, and me. And Rena and Aunt Caroline too. I used to push my dad to see when he’d snap. All jokes and skirting the edge of the law. I got into fights. I was a punk, and I admit it. But the old man kicked my ass into gear. I only did a little bit of juvie, and maybe a stint or two in jail after high school. Nothing serious. A fight, that shoplifting gag gone wrong. I told you about that.”

  “I can’t imagine.”

  “I bet you can’t, Goody Two-Shoes.”

  “Hey.” She frowned. “I wasn’t that good. I didn’t get nearly straight A’s like you did, Poindexter.”

  “I should have never told you that.” He laughed at the mischief in her big, brown eyes. “So that’s all me.”

  “Oh, heck no. What about all the broken hearts trailing behind you?”

  Now he felt a moment’s unease. “Not that many.”

  “What about Trish? All those nurses at the hospital?” Oh yeah, that smile had a lot of teeth.

  “There are a few facts in life I’m sure of. One, I got my looks from Mom, my build from my dad. Both good things when it comes to women. Two, I’m a heck of a guy. I’m gonna straight-out admit I’ve never had a problem charming women.”

  “Aha.”

  “But, I was never a player. I learned early on to treat women with respect. Liam don’t play when it comes to the ladies,” he teased.

  “Good man, your dad.”

  “Yeah, he is.” J.T. smiled. “I’m so glad he’s got Sophie now. I’ve never seen him so happy.”

  “It took him a long time to find someone to love. What about you? Did you ever come close to getting married? Engaged?”

  “Nah.”

  “Why not?”

  “The truth?” At her nod, he bared it all. “Because my dad fucked me up. I’ve never told him, but seeing how half-alive he was after my mom died, then how Penelope fucked him over, well, it got to me. It didn’t help that the only other relationships I witnessed came from my aunt. Have I told you she divorced her fifth husband?”

  “You might have mentioned it.”

  “That’s right. And no, you’re nothing like her. You’re smart and loving.”

  “Then why did I pick such terrible guys to date? Seriously, my streak before you was like two years of dating duds.”

  “I think maybe you wanted love too much to wait for the right guy—that’d be me. Hell, I’m not a shrink. Who knows why you picked the wrong guys? Why did it take me this long to get in your bed? I should have been here months ago.”

  “J.T.”

  He laughed. “I’m not kidding. I knew you were sexy and pretty, and I wanted a piece of you bad. But dumb Del made me promise to keep my distance. I’m never listening to her again.”

  Hope kissed him. “Good.” Then she asked point-blank, “Do you think you’ll ever get married?” She didn’t look away, piercing him with that stare.

  “Are you proposing?”

  The pause before she adamantly denied it took him aback. Imagine him and Hope married. That was moving way too fast…wasn’t it? Next thing he’d be thinking about… “Hey, you ever think about having kids?”

  “Sure.” She shrugged. “I know I will someday. I’m not set on how many, but I’d like to be a mom. I want to be married and have babies and be crazy in love.” She laughed. “But have no fear, I’m not pushing for a ring, J.T. It’s like I can see your skin crawling when the m-word comes up. It’s kind of fun.”

  “Not true.” To his surprise, it wasn’t. It used to be, but for some reason, he liked Hope imagining a future in which she had a family, love, and security. “Can I tell you something else?”

  “Oh. Another secret?”

  “Kind of.” He stroked her arm. “That picture I gave you for your birthday.” They both glanced at the frame directly next to her dresser, prominently positioned near her mirror, where she looked at it every day. “That was only part of your present. The other part is a real tattoo. I can do it or have one of the guys at the shop do it. I think you’d look good with one.”

  “Really?” Her lips parted, then curled into a smile. “Where would you put it, if you were me?”

  “Hmm. I was thinking something here.” He grazed her upper chest. “Or maybe here.” He dragged his hand to her left hip.

  “Not a tramp stamp?” She put her hand on the small of her back.

  “I love those. The trampier the better.”

  She laughed, but the look she gave him. It filled him full. Her eyes cheerful, her cheeks rosy. Her mouth curled into a smile. She was a picture he’d take to his grave. The ultimate fantasy of what he wanted his future
to be.

  “Hope…” I love you.

  She put her head back on his shoulder. “Yeah, me too.”

  If only.

  Chapter 20

  Nearly a week had passed, and Hope was no closer to finding her stalker, as she now thought of him. The florist had nothing for her. Her brothers had made some calls, looked into her exes’ whereabouts, and turned up nothing. She didn’t know what else she could do.

  Wednesday afternoon, she sat at lunch with Steven, having finally found a day that worked for both their schedules.

  “I’ve been meaning to try this pizza place for a while.”

  “I like their Caesar salads.” She smiled. J.T. had converted her.

  “No need to watch your figure with me.” Steven chuckled. “And before you tell me you have a boyfriend, I know. I happened to catch a very large man with you the other day when I drove by on my way to a friend’s. Even if I wanted to try my luck, I don’t think I’d like him to catch me trying.”

  She smiled, wondering if this would be a lead-in to a confession, maybe? Would Steven admit to being her stalker? Let something drop to clue her in?

  Unfortunately, the guy who’d fractured J.T.’s ribs had been a bust. She’d found some photos of Brad, Joe, and Steven online and sent them to Heller. When Heller had shown them to Paulie, he had denied that any of them was his contact. But the man—and it had been a man—who’d given him the money had worn a hat and sweatshirt. A lot like the description of her cinnamon-bun buyer.

  They paused to order their food, then sat down with a number to wait.

  She spent an entertaining forty minutes with Steven, enjoying being with a man without the pressure of a date. Steven told her about a woman he’d met in the neighborhood he planned to ask out. They talked about Hope’s mother, and Steven told her some funny stories about his house-hunting experiences. Especially the one about finding the owners unexpectedly home for one viewing.

  “Yes, the husband and his nanny weren’t expecting anyone to be walking around his almost-empty house. How convenient he’d left a bed behind.”