by Lili Valente
“Hell, yes.” I reach out. But instead of taking the ring, I take Lark in my arms, hauling her over the gate and into a hug so tight I can feel her heart pounding behind her ribs.
“Yes,” I whisper into her hair as she wraps her arms tightly around my neck and the other customers begin to applaud. “I will marry you, Lark March. I will marry you and work my ass off to make you the happiest woman in Georgia, or anywhere else.”
“You already have.” She pulls back, gazing up into my face. “I’m so sorry for the way I acted. I was afraid and it made me do stupid things.”
“You didn’t do stupid things.”
“Yes, I did,” she says. “I know that now. I thought I had to make a ‘safe’ decision, but love is never safe. There’s always danger involved. Yes, one of us could betray the other. But even if we have the perfect relationship, everything could still fall apart. One of us could get sick or hurt and…everything could change. We could lose it all. Just like that. There are no guarantees.”
I nod slowly. “You’re right.”
“But I’ve realized there are worse things than betrayal or heartbreak or loss.” She slips her fingers into my hair, just above the collar of my shirt. “There’s my life without you in it, and it sucks. Big time.”
The backs of my eyes beginning to sting, I smile. “It does. Huge donkey balls.”
“And I hate donkey balls,” she whispers seriously, making me smile wider. “Almost as much as I love you. So you should kiss me now, right?”
“Hell, yes, I should.”
And then I kiss her, summoning another wave of applause from the rest of the diners on the patio.
Lark pulls away with a self-conscious giggle. “I almost forgot we had witnesses. This place looks amazing.”
“It’s the best brunch spot,” I say, setting her down and taking the ring box she places in my hand. “You’re going to love it.” Tugging the ring from the box, I glance at the inscription—For my Forever Friend—with a smile.
“You like it?” she asks as I slide it on my finger.
“I love it.” I take her hand. “Now we just need to get you something big enough to blind people at fifty feet and we’ll be set.”
“I don’t need a diamond big enough to blind people,” she says, squeezing my fingers. “I just need you.”
I lean in, pressing another quick kiss to her lips before turning to grab my paper and notebook. I dig a few bills from my wallet and toss them on the table, but when I look back at Lark she’s pulling out the chair across from mine and picking up one of the menus tucked between the salt and pepper shakers.
“What?” Her eyebrows lift. “You’re not going to leave that omelet uneaten, are you? It’s too beautiful to abandon. Look at that fresh basil. And I smell pancakes. Really good pancakes with real syrup.”
I smile, so happy she’s here with me, being Lark and smiling and wanting to eat breakfast together. It’s something so simple, but still so special, just because I get to share this memory with her. “You want me to order you some pancakes, Sunshine?”
“I wouldn’t turn up my nose at a pancake,” she says, grinning up at me. “That’s all I’m saying.”
I sit back down, scooting my chair next to Lark’s, putting my arm around her and pulling her close. She leans into me with a happy sigh, and I kiss the top of her head.
“All right, how about you help me eat this omelet before it gets cold, and then we split a stack of the harvest pancakes?” I ask. “Sound like a deal?”
“Sounds perfect,” she says, tipping her face up to mine, glowing with happiness.
“And then we’ll go ring shopping and find something you won’t mind wearing for another fifty years or so.”
She smiles. “That sounds even better.”
“It does,” I agree.
It sounds pretty damned perfect, in fact, like the beginning of the life I’ve always wanted, one filled with love and laughter and this beautiful girl, who is my very best friend.
“And then we’ll go back to your place,” she whispers. “I want to see the new bedroom furniture you talked about in last week’s letter.”
“If you don’t like it, we can take it back. I saved the receipt.”
She rolls her eyes. “I couldn’t care less about the furniture, Mason. I want to see the bed. And you in the bed. And me in the bed with you.”
I arch a teasing brow. “Yeah? Think you’ll be ready for a nap soon?”
“No napping today, Doctor Stewart,” she says with a grin. “I’m going to need a thorough physical. Every inch examined thoroughly. Head to toe.”
“Head to toe,” I agree.
I’m about to suggest we ask for the rest of our breakfast to go, and get to the examining as soon as possible, but Lark is already lifting her hand, summoning a waiter. She then proceeds to order twice as much food as we agreed upon in a very assured, very sexy voice, before turning back to me, and asking, “You want anything else?”
I shake my head. “Nope. I’ve got everything I’ll ever need.”
And I do.
Ready for more Bliss River Romance?
Married to the Enemy,
Nash and Aria’s story,
is coming soon!
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Sneak Peek
Please enjoy this sneak peek of
Married to the Enemy!
CHAPTER ONE
Aria
Twelve years ago
I slip through the woods on silent feet, my heartbeat louder than the cicadas buzzing and clicking in the trees.
It’s almost too dark to see the trail, I don’t have a flashlight, and being out of my cabin after lights out and on my way to meet a boy are both major camp handbook violations. If I’m caught, I’ll be kicked out. My mom and dad are on the Arts Council board, but not even that will spare me the ultimate punishment.
The staff here are really intense about following the rules.
And staying in bed after lights out.
And not kissing boys.
Or girls.
They frown—hard—at all varieties of kissing and displays of affection.
I should turn around. I really, really should.
I don’t want to be sent home. My friends are here, camp means another four weeks away from my bratty little sisters, Lark and Melody, and I’m having the time of my life sketching and painting and experimenting with new mediums during our five hours of daily art classes.
I love camp Arts Under the Elms. I love it like I love deep fried Twinkies at the fair and staying in my pajamas all weekend, and I wouldn’t put my future here at risk for anything.
Anything except him.
Nash Geary.
Just thinking his name is enough to make my blood fizzy. He is by far the most delicious boy I’ve ever met—taller than the other boys at camp by at least five inches, built like a contestant of an ancient Olympiad, with moody green eyes a shade lighter than mine and a silky Georgia drawl I can feel whispering over my skin like warm summer rain.
He is flat out, no holds barred, drop dead drool-worthy.
Every girl at camp had her eye on him the first day, but by the time we walked through the dinner line to pick up our burgers and hot dogs, Nash had made it clear he only had eyes for me. Me, the girl with the messy hair and skinny legs.
Not that I’m a complete wallflower.
I’ve dated my fair share of boys—especially considering I’m not allowed to go on car dates until I’m sixteen—but I’ve never been with someone as close to a full-grown man as Nash. I mean, I’m no dog—my skin is pale, but clear, and my hair finally darkened to auburn after a decade of impersonating an orange construction cone—but no matter how much I eat, I stay scrawny. And, shame of all my shames, I barely fill out an A cup.
Meanwhile, Nash is six f
oot four, muscled all over, with hands big enough to wrap all the way around my waist, and an air about him that practically screams “I’m know my way around vaginas.” I would bet my snow cone hut voucher tickets for the entire summer that he’s gone all the way with at least one girl, maybe more.
At first, I sort of wondered what he saw in me, a girl who still looks like a twelve-year old if I make the mistake of forgetting to slip the padding into my two-piece swimsuit.
But then we started talking and things just…clicked.
Within a few hours, we were cracking jokes like old friends, making each other laugh so hard we snorted Coke out of our noses, all over a watercolor I wasn’t even sad to lose because being with Nash was so much fun. By the third day, we were taking long walks during our free time after dinner—chatting about our lives back home and school and the bands we like and which paintings make our brains tingle. And by the fifth day we were stealing kisses behind the mess hall dumpsters before lights out.
And what kisses they were…
Just thinking about them makes my nerve endings hum and my feet move faster along the path, already anticipating the tingle inducing kiss waiting for me in the clearing where Nash is meeting me tonight.
Kissing Nash is heaven and hell all tangled up together, enough to make my soul light up with joy and my body ache with a hunger that’s almost painful.
But…deliciously painful.
Until now, I’ve only really been into kissing. It’s hard to get interested in much more in the back row of a movie theater or under the bleachers after school, and it’s not like any of the guys I’ve locked lips with were all that great at it.
But now…
Now I want Nash’s big hands to slide beneath my t-shirt. I want to explore every inch of his skin with my fingertips, until I’ve memorized him so well I can sculpt him in ceramics class. And I want him to do the same. I want him to touch me wherever he wants, do whatever he wants, because I know anything I do with Nash will feel amazing, and so, so right.
It’s only been three weeks, but I’m ready for him to be my first. I can feel how much he cares about me, and I’ve never been so completely gone on a guy. In my secret thoughts, I used to imagine growing up to have a string of gorgeous lovers, each one more dashing and dangerous than the last. But now a part of me wonders what it would be like to find “the one” the first time around.
To spend my life with only one man…
When the man in question is Nash, the possibility doesn’t seem boring. Not in the slightest.
I shiver as I reach the edge of the clearing and a large shadow separates from the darkness. A beat later, Nash’s voice rumbles through the trees, “Hey. There you are.”
“Here I am.” I grin, skipping the last few steps off the path and into his arms. He picks me up with a happy moan that vibrates through my bones, and then he kisses me, long and deep, until my breath is coming faster and that delicious hunger rises inside me again.
“I was beginning to think you’d changed your mind,” he whispers against my mouth as his hands wander down to cup my bottom through my shorts.
An electric jolt surges through me in response.
God, he makes me crazy, so wonderfully, crazily crazy. “No,” I say, clinging tighter to his shoulders. “I just had to wait until Molly fell asleep. She was reading in her bunk forever.”
“I’m so glad you’re here. I missed you, and I’ve been dying to be alone with you.”
“Me too,” I breathe, threading my fingers into his hair. “So much.”
We kiss for another long minute, or maybe a hundred minutes. All I know is that soon my head is spinning and my chest is aching and I feel like I’ll die if I don’t get more of him.
All of him.
I pull away, sucking in a ragged breath. “Did you bring something?”
“Something?” he echoes, his breath coming faster, too.
“Something…just in case.”
“In case…”
“In case we want to do more than kiss,” I whisper, my nerve endings buzzing.
I can’t tell if I’m nervous or excited or both, but I’ll feel better once I know we’re protected. I’m ready to be with Nash, but I’m not ready to be a mom. Not for a decade. Or more. Or maybe ever. There are so many adventures to be had and most of them don’t pair well with caring for an infant.
“Yes ma’am,” Nash drawls in that silky voice of his. “I brought a blanket from the storage room. It’s over here.” He takes my hand, drawing me deeper into the shadows.
As my eyes adjust, I make out the rectangular shape of a dark gray camp blanket spread out on the grass. Nash sits, guiding me down onto the blanket beside him and rolling me beneath him with a calm assurance that makes my blood pressure spike.
But when he moves to kiss me again, I put a finger to his lips.
“I didn’t mean the blanket,” I say, amazed by my own gumption. But if I’m really ready to go all the way, I should be brave enough to talk about protection, too. And I am, a fact I prove when I add in a softer voice, “I meant a condom.”
Nash pauses for a long second before he exhales. “Um, yeah… I have something. In my wallet, but I didn’t…”
“Didn’t what?” I ask.
The hesitation in his voice would make me anxious as hell in any other situation, but it’s impossible to feel anxious with Nash leaning protectively over me, his big hand running up and down my side.
“I didn’t think you wanted to tonight. I thought you would want to wait.”
“Do you want to wait?”
“Heck, no,” he says, with a soft laugh. “You make me crazy and you’re so beautiful.” He sighs, a sound filled with so much longing it makes me feel like the most desirable woman on the planet. “I want you so much it’s probably sinful, Aria, but…it’s your first time.”
“Does that make you nervous?” I bite my lip. I know some guys avoid virgins like the plague, thinking we’re going to get too clingy or something lame I’ve never quite understood.
I might be a virgin, but I’ve watched sexy movies and read every racy romance novel I could get my hands on. I know what goes on between a man and a woman. Yes, I’m sure the feelings can get intense, but I’m not going to be rendered idiotic because my privates and a boy’s privates meet up for the first time.
I’m inexperienced, not naïve, and my brain is just as much a part of this decision as the rest of me.
“A little,” Nash confesses. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You won’t.” I snuggle closer to him, wrapping my arms around his neck. Could he be any sweeter? Or perfect? Or sexy? God, he’s so sexy, it makes my blood feel like honey oozing through my veins. “All you ever do is make me feel amazing. This won’t be any different.”
“Are you sure?” he presses. “I don’t mind waiting. I…”
“What?” I let my fingers play through his spiky hair, wishing I could see his eyes.
“I really like you. A lot. I don’t want this to just be a camp thing, you know? I want to see you after. Be with you after. Like…an official couple.”
“Me, too,” I say, smiling so wide it makes my cheeks hurt.
Nash and I haven’t talked about anything long term, but I’ve had all my fingers and toes crossed this would happen. Sure, we go to different schools and live on opposite sides of town—me in a cookie cutter subdivision, Nash out in the country—but that doesn’t mean we can’t make a relationship work.
“I don’t have a lot of time during the week,” he says, a smile in his voice that makes me grin even harder. “I have football most afternoons and help out with my brothers and sisters at night, but I could come to Bliss River every Sunday.”
“And I could come out and help you babysit when I don’t have art class after school,” I say, catching his excitement for our future. “I’ve got my permit and Dad said I could borrow the truck once I turn sixteen.”
“I’d like that,” he says, before adding in
a voice that completely melts my heart, “I’d like as much of you as I can get.”
“How about all of me?” I ask, wondering if this is what love feels like. If it isn’t, then love must be some insanely serious stuff.
Because this…
This is…magic.
“I’m not scared.” I cup his cheek in my hand. “I care about you so much, and I know what I want.”
Nash’s breath hitches in a way that makes me feel beautiful and powerful and so drunk with needing him I vow to beg him to get naked with me, if that’s what it takes.
“On one condition,” he finally says. “We’re a couple. Exclusive. It’s official. You’re my girl.”
“Yes,” I whisper, suddenly feeling shy.
I’ve never had a boyfriend like this before, one who made it clear being a couple meant something to him, that this was a commitment more serious than most casual, high school connections.
Hearing Nash call me “his girl,” is intimate, possessive, and completely irresistible.
“And you’re my man,” I say.
His husky sound of approval sends a thrill rushing through me, giving me the courage to whisper, “Now, will you make love to me?”
He doesn’t say a word, but the next second he’s kissing me so hard and deep that, soon, his breath is my breath and I swear I can feel his heartbeat echoing in my chest.
A beat later, his hand slides beneath my shirt, making every cell in my body zing. Not long after, my shirt is off and he’s kissing me in places no boy has ever kissed me before and it is…mind-blowing.
Life changing. More pure, sweet magic.
My head spins and my fingers fist in Nash’s hair as he kisses and licks and, God, the things he does to me. The way it makes me feel. It’s more incredible, more intoxicating than I’ve ever imagined.
Soon, his hand dips beneath the waistband of my gym shorts, down until he finds the place where I want him so badly. And then his fingers begin to move, building the tension inside of me until I’m panting, moaning, my every muscle going tense as he trails hot kisses down my neck. I’m so close, so desperately close that my eyes are squeezed tight.