by Rhonda Helms
“Everything okay?” I asked.
“Can I come in?” His words were a throaty request. He didn’t seem sure if I’d say yes or not.
Kyle was nervous. Very nervous. Which made me nervous in return. My fingers fluttered against the door.
“Oh, okay. Sure.” I held it wider so he could come in, but he didn’t just walk inside. He stepped to the side of the door, out of view.
Then he came back bearing a stack of chocolate boxes in his arms so high it reached his nose.
I blinked, confused. “Um…”
He dropped them on my table then went back out. Brought a massive pile of shiny balloons and thrust them into my hand. I clenched the glossy ribbons, and once more, he disappeared. With my pulse thundering in my ears, I could barely hear anything else. What was he doing? Why wasn’t he saying anything?
He appeared one last time, this time carrying an army of teddy bears and other small gifts. Those he spread out on my couch, on the coffee table and my chair. Then he stood and wiped his hands on his jeans.
Tears stung my eyes, streaked down my face. The hand holding the balloons shook, and his face shifted when he saw how unsteadily I was holding them.
He stepped up to me, cupped my face. “I’ve never celebrated Valentine’s Day before,” he told me. The words hit me in the gut.
“It’s not for another week,” I whispered. Maybe he’d gotten confused somehow. I had no idea what was going on.
“I know that.” He rolled his eyes, and for that second, I saw a flash of the old Kyle I’d known. Then his face got serious, his eyes locked on mine. I could see so much in them, and I found myself leaning closer to that intensity. His thumbs stroked my cheekbones, and then he dropped his hands. “I’ve never celebrated before, so I wanted to make up for lost time. I wasn’t sure what you’d want, and the woman at the store wasn’t much of a help.”
I gave a nervous laugh. “I…don’t know what to say.”
“Just let me talk for a minute then,” he said. His gaze raked over my face, like he’d missed me as much as I’d missed him. The hurt and sorrow and ache for him blossomed in my chest, exploded, and I let myself feel him. Really feel him. Wild emotions radiated from him like a raging fire, and it heated my skin in return.
He was stiff and stilted, his eyes darting around, his mouth slit into a thin line. “This last week, I hid away from you. What you said freaked me out for a few different reasons. So I did some hard thinking. Not just about you and me, but about my life. Where I was. Where I wanted to be.”
I remained still, my fingers locked tight around the ribbons, while the balloons bobbed at my side.
“Every day without you was awful,” he told me in a broken voice, and I swallowed a small cry of sadness at the pain in his eyes. “I realized a lot about myself this week. Mostly that I’m an asshole.”
I gave a watery laugh and let the balloons go so they floated to the top of my ceiling. I wrapped my arms around him. “You are not.”
“Yes, I am.” He didn’t move closer into my embrace, almost like he had to get it all off his chest before he could let himself touch me anymore. “I brought you all this stuff because I wanted to make up for lost time. I want my first Valentine’s Day with you to be memorable. Because you deserve that. But I couldn’t wait another week to do something.”
More tears ran down my face, dribbled across my lips, and I licked the saltiness away. “I’m sorry I pushed you,” I whispered. “There were better ways I could have brought this up.”
He wrapped his arms around my waist and finally pressed against me. His forehead came down to bump mine. “No, you were right to push. I could tell myself all I wanted that I was honest with you from the start. But my actions around you told a whole different story—that I wanted to be in a relationship, even if I was too scared to admit it out loud.” He huffed a breath and released one hand from my side to rake a hand through his messy hair. “This is hard to say.”
I nodded to encourage him to continue. The chipped pieces of my heart were starting to mend themselves, knit into something even stronger than what had been there before.
“Every day I realized there was something different I missed about you. I’d lie in bed and crave the soft sounds of your snores.”
“I do not,” I protested with a damp sniffle.
He raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, you do. And it’s cute. Stop being embarrassed about it.”
My cheeks grew warm.
“I miss the way you touch my hand when we’re sitting side by side.” He ducked his head back down until our faces were inches apart. His breath fanned my face, and his hand reclaimed its spot on my hip. “I miss your laugh. I miss your eyes.”
“I missed you so much,” I told him. “I had to be honest—with you and with myself. I don’t want to just casually date or pretend like I’m not thinking about the future. I want more from you. I want it all,” I said with a helpless shrug. My unspoken words lingered in the air between us—that I wasn’t sure if he was a hundred percent willing to step up and be that person for me. The way I’d be for him.
He stayed silent for a moment then said, “I’m going back to school in the fall. One campus I looked at has a number of good online courses, so I wouldn’t have to commute much.”
I blinked. “Really? That’s great.”
“I told my dad the business was done, that I couldn’t run it anymore. That I wasn’t happy.” I saw a dark pink stain flush his cheeks. “He was upset, but I think he understands. I was honest with him.”
“I know that had to be hard. I’m so proud of you,” I said as I stroked his arm. I wanted to kiss him so badly I could taste it. Something held me back from doing so though. He still hadn’t told me what was going to happen with us. I needed to hear the words.
“Natalie, I want to be a man worthy of you and your love,” he said, and that hit me square in the chest. Yes, he’d done all of this for himself, but also for me. To show he was willing to take risks, just like I was trying to do.
Without thinking, I pressed my mouth to his. A sigh escaped both our lips as we melted and merged together, hands exploring the way they’d been itching to. He penetrated all my senses, hard lines and laundered cotton and mint and rasping breaths and flashing eyes. It was hard to tell where I stopped and he began.
When we pulled away minutes later, our lips swollen and clothes crooked, I said in a husky tone, “You’ve always been worthy, just because of who you are. That’s never been a question for me. Don’t ever think that, okay?”
He nodded. I could see that all his walls were down right now, and he was letting me in. The vulnerability in his eyes moved me, humbled me. “You’re a risk worth taking. And I’m falling for you, so hard.” His lips grazed my chin, my jaw, my ear, and I shivered at the delicious rasp of his facial hair on my skin. “You make me feel like I could do anything.”
“You can. We can.” I laced my fingers behind his neck and kissed him again until we were both shaking and hungry. Our mouths became more frantic, biting and sucking and teasing.
Kyle’s hands scorched my belly as he moved them across my flesh, kneading my back, down to my ass, where he cupped me hard against him. “I want you. Right now,” he growled into my ear.
That made my flesh tingle. I tightened all over at the promise in his words, and I rubbed my breasts along the firmness of his upper chest. “I want you too.”
He lifted me until my legs were wrapped tightly around his waist, his erection tantalizing me through his jeans and my thin pants. His arms kept me locked secure as he walked me back to my bed then dropped me on it.
We were too turned on to go slow. Before I knew it, I was naked, legs spread, and he was rolling on a condom then whipping off his shirt. He entered me and I gasped, dug my heels into his firm ass.
My nails raked down his back and he groaned, arched against me.
“Do you know how many times I thought about you?” he asked as he thrust into me, his movements becoming hard
er, deeper, causing a delicious friction in my pelvis. “I never should have stayed away from you this long. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.” I brushed his damp brow and tilted my pelvis so he entered me fully. My moans became short pants as my orgasm curled so close, so tantalizingly close. “Right there, yes, please.”
He hammered harder, our bodies growing slick with sweat, and his mouth sucked the base of my throat then moved down to take a nipple between his teeth. One hand dropped between us to stroke my swollen flesh where we joined.
That did it. My sex flared with a brilliant heat, a vibrant buzz that slid through my torso, my limbs, and I cried out his name on a wail.
When he lifted his head to watch me come, I saw a flash of male pride. A few seconds later, his eyes closed and he groaned. His thrusts became more uneven, his grunts more guttural. He came with a roar, his body stiff and rock hard.
Kyle shifted onto his side, still inside me, and dragged me as close as I could get, my head on his upper pec, arms wrapped around each other, legs entangled. In this moment, we were one—intimately, physically, emotionally. His breath panted along my hair. Then he pulled out, took care of the condom and resumed his place beside me.
“Thank you,” I whispered, a bit choked up with emotion. How was it possible to be this happy? I stroked his hip with lazy patterns, wanting to memorize every square inch of him.
“After that amazing orgasm, I should be thanking you,” he said, and we both chuckled, tired and spent and very sated. After a long moment of silence, when our breathing had calmed down, he continued. “I was hoping that for Valentine’s Day we could have dinner at my place.”
I bit my lip and fought the ridiculous smile that threatened to spread across my face. I did allow myself to kiss his pec though. “That would be great. I’ll bring a dessert.”
“And there’s a jazz concert in Columbus I wanna go see in May.” He ran his fingers through my hair, his voice growing thick. “If you wanna go with me, that is. I’m not sure how you feel about jazz, but it can be a lot of fun if you give it a chance.”
I knew what he was doing, and it pleased me to no end. This was real commitment, I decided. Seeing something that petrified you but jumping off that cliff anyway because it’s worth the risk. Kyle was showing me in his words, in his actions, that he wanted to be with me. Only me.
We’d jumped off that cliff together, hand in hand.
“I’d love to give it a try,” I told him then gave a sleepy yawn.
I wasn’t sure how much time passed as we lay there, quiet and comfortable. I just reveled in the timelessness of this feeling.
When his limbs began to give that familiar twitch, indicating that he was slipping into deep sleep, I smiled against his chest and gave in to the delicious pull of drowsiness. Safe and secure and cared for in the comfort of Kyle’s arms.
Thanks so much for reading Two Little Lies!
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You’ve just read the second story in the Edgewood Falls series. Each features its own romance arc (no cliffhangers!). Check out Anna’s story in book 1, One Broke Girl, and Bianca’s story in book 3, Three Perfect Nights (coming August 2014).
Table of Contents
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen