Lindsay threw her head back and let out a cry she’d never heard herself make before as her entire body tightened in climax, Piper’s fingers deep inside her, her muscles contracting around them.
Unlike Piper’s slow coming down from her orgasm, Lindsay simply collapsed. She let her body fall forward so her face was buried against Piper’s neck, their breasts pressed together, Piper still inside her. They lay that way for she had no idea how long, but the gentle stroking of Piper’s fingertips up and down her back was about as close to perfect as she’d ever imagined getting and there was a large part of her that never wanted to move again. Ever.
When her legs started to tingle from being bent for too long, Lindsay surrendered and let herself roll to one side, hissing softly as Piper finally slid her fingers out. She couldn’t think of a single thing that needed to be said, and strangely, that felt perfect. Piper tugged the covers so they fell over both of them, wrapped Lindsay in her arms, and in minutes, Lindsay could feel the even rise and fall of her chest beneath her ear.
That had been surreal.
Lindsay wasn’t a pie-in-the-sky kind of person. She wasn’t a dreamy fantasist. She was a realist. She was pragmatic. She tried in vain to ignore the voice in her head that reminded her how nobody had ever made love to her like that. Nobody had ever been such a perfect sexual match for her.
Because the truth was, she had no idea what this was. Where it was going. If it was going anywhere. She didn’t really know Piper Bradshaw, and that was a fact. Maybe she did this all the time. Maybe she’d get up in the morning, be on her merry way, and that would be that.
It was possible, but she didn’t think so.
She didn’t want to think so.
She didn’t want to think.
Doing her best to shove those thoughts away, Lindsay let herself bask in that pleasant, warm, muscles-like-jelly afterglow of sex and burrowed further into Piper.
She wouldn’t think about tomorrow.
Chapter Sixteen
Piper had never been a fan of “the morning after.” More times than not, it was awkward. Things that were said and done—and let’s not forget sounds that were made—under cover of darkness tended to be embarrassing in the harsh light of day.
She’d entertained the idea of getting up early and sneaking out, which she knew was not a cool thing to do, but at least she could have some time to gather her thoughts. That plan went out the window, though, when she woke up to find Lindsay gazing sleepily at her with those eyes.
And then there was morning sex.
Piper couldn’t remember the last time she’d had an orgasm to start her day, but she was pretty sure she could get used to it as she lay there in Lindsay’s bed, breathless. Lindsay slid out from under the covers, donned an adorable pair of blue and white striped pajama pants and a matching blue tank, then bent over and kissed Piper on the forehead.
“I’ll go make coffee.”
Piper lifted a hand in a wave, but that was all she could muster. Lindsay’s mouth had been on her before she was even fully awake and her orgasm must’ve been waiting right there in the wings because Piper had come inside of five minutes.
“Jesus,” she whispered now, arm thrown over her eyes, body still thrumming.
Afraid she’d fall back to sleep—and doing so was so tempting—Piper forced herself to get up and out of bed. She donned all the clothes she found in the bedroom. Which left her in her pants and a bra. With a sigh, she vaguely recalled being divested of her tank top while on the couch in the living room.
She located the bathroom, washed her face and hands, squirted a blob of Lindsay’s toothpaste on her finger, and did her best to freshen up her mouth. Then she marched downstairs a bit self-consciously, being topless and all, and found her tank on the floor. She was just pulling it over her head when Lindsay came into the room, a mug in one hand and a stainless steel travel mug in the other.
The smell of coffee was heavenly.
“Much as I’d love to have you stay so I can make you some breakfast, I’m pretty sure you’re ready to be on your way.” Lindsay’s soft smile took any accusation out of the words.
Piper returned the smile. “I do have a meeting first thing.”
Lindsay held out the travel mug. “For the road, then.”
Piper took it. “Thank you.” Their eye contact held and Piper lowered her voice. “I had a really good time last night.”
“Me, too.”
Locating her purse, Piper picked it up, crossed the room to peck Lindsay on the lips—quickly so as not to be overwhelmed by temptation—and said, “I’ll call you later.” Then she was out the door, walking quickly to her SUV.
Normal morning-after behavior for Piper was to wipe the previous evening from her mind, at least temporarily, so she could focus on the day ahead. And today was a busy one. She realized, in hindsight, that last night probably wasn’t the best timing for a sexcapade that stretched into the wee hours. Today was a big meeting with some of the folks from Harbinger, and Piper needed to be on her game. Unfortunately, it became obvious very quickly that her mind had other ideas. Her mind wanted to reminisce. Her mind wanted to flash back. Her mind wanted to replay. Her mind was not at all interested in working.
It went on like that for much of the morning. While in the shower. While getting dressed and putting on her makeup. While driving to her office. The most prominent thing in Piper’s head was the previous night. And not just the sex (though that was front and center), but the time near the water. She still wasn’t sure what had possessed her to take Lindsay there, and it was true that she hadn’t been there in more than two years. Gina and her husband and kids went often; Gina’s husband was an avid fisherman. But Piper had just found it too hard. Taking Lindsay there with her had been risky, as she’d had no way of gauging her own reaction. She’d also had no way of knowing that something about Lindsay’s solid, quiet presence would be exactly perfect.
In her office, she tossed down her purse and her laptop case, then braced her palms on the desk’s surface and just closed her eyes. Breathed. In and out. She needed to focus.
A knock on her doorjamb startled her.
“Ready?” Ian asked, looking ridiculously entrepreneurial in his navy blue suit and red power tie.
“I am.” She gave him a nod.
She’d think about Lindsay later.
* * *
Lindsay couldn’t get Piper out of her head, even after she’d gone. Piper’s eyes. Piper’s voice. Piper’s body. Piper’s hands on her body. Her hands on Piper’s body.
Truth was, she hadn’t really tried to get Piper out of her head. Why would she?
“That was, arguably, the best night of my life,” she said now, to Bert, as they tromped through the woods along the lake, Rocket running ahead and then back like always.
“You mean the best sex of your life,” Bert amended.
“That, too.”
“Come on, Linds. You barely know this girl. There could be some crazy narcissist hiding inside. You have no idea yet.”
“Piper’s not a narcissist.”
“You have no idea yet,” Bert said again, enunciating each word.
Bert had texted just as Lindsay was loading Rocket into the car for their morning walk and asked if she could join them, as she did once in a while. Lindsay had told her the day before that she had a date with Piper, and this morning, she’d texted that Piper had just left. Now part of Lindsay was regretting telling Bert she could come along because she was killing Lindsay’s buzz. “Can you just let me bask for a few minutes before you tear my fantasy apart? Please?”
“Sure. Sorry. Go ahead.” Bert made a sweeping gesture with her arm. “Bask away.”
“Thank you.”
“I’m just looking out for you,” Bert said almost immediately. “That’s what friends do.”
“Seriously? Four seconds of basking? That’s all I get? Gee, thanks. You’re a swell friend.”
Bert at least had the good sense to look a ti
ny bit ashamed. “I’m sorry. But I promised my wife that I’d have this talk with you. That I’d make sure you knew what you were doing.”
Lindsay shook her head. “I’m so glad to know that you guys think I’m an idiot.”
Bert grabbed her arm, stopped her from walking. “We don’t think you’re an idiot,” she said once Lindsay—reluctantly—met her gaze. “We just want to protect you. You’ve had exactly one date with this woman, you slept with her on it, and now you’re all with the googly eyes and dreamy sighing.”
Lindsay cocked her head, “I’m sorry. Forgive me if I’ve got this wrong, but…didn’t you and Maya sleep together on your first date? And isn’t she now your wife?”
They stood, staring each other down, Bert blinking at her in surprise.
“You know what?” Bert asked. “You’re right. That’s totally true. Carry on.” Lindsay punched her playfully in the shoulder and they resumed their walking. They did so in silence for several moments before Bert asked, “So. It was that good, huh?”
Lindsay let her head fall back and bent her knees slightly as they walked. “Oh, my God, Roberta. So, so good.”
Bert chuckled. “Wow.”
“You ever have that kind of sex where there are all these weird sounds in the room? Like moans and gasps and things you’ve never heard before…and then you realize that you are the one making them?”
Bert glanced up at the sky and gave a dreamy sigh of her own. “Long, long ago, I seem to recall something of the sort…” They walked on. “She a control freak? Seems like she would be.”
“Little bit.”
“Only a little?” Bert’s eyes were wide.
“Yeah, I was surprised, too. I ran the show as much as she did. I also ran it this morning, thank you very much.”
Bert held up a hand for Lindsay to slap. “Nice. I do not have enough morning sex. I need to fix that.”
“I highly recommend that you do.”
“What now?”
Lindsay shrugged. “No idea. Just floating along, seeing what happens, I guess.”
They walked some more, and Lindsay whistled when she didn’t see Rocket. He came bounding back, looking like the happiest animal on earth. Lindsay wondered absently how awesome it would be to have so little to worry about. She’d never really envied her dog before, but she did right then. Because the truth was, she didn’t feel nearly as breezy and nonchalant about things as she was leading Bert to believe. She simply didn’t want her friends to worry about her. Or judge her. Or think she was stupid and naïve. The truth was, she had no idea at all what happened next. Piper had said she’d call later. Lindsay had to trust that she wasn’t just feeding her a line so she could get away. Plus, it wasn’t like they’d never run into each other again. They had no choice.
Lindsay may have seemed like a fly-by-the-seat-of-her-pants kind of person to a lot of people who didn’t know her, but the truth was, she liked knowing what was coming. She liked to be prepared.
She was not prepared for Piper Bradshaw.
She’d thought she was. She thought she had been. A little kissing here and there was one thing. That had been a fun little teasing game, and Lindsay had enjoyed it immensely. Getting ambushed in her office by an unexpectedly sexy Piper had been the highlight of many weeks for Lindsay. And when Piper had asked her out, she’d been flattered. Excited. A little anxious, but in a good way. When Piper had taken her to her dad’s fishing spot, Lindsay’d been surprised, but also flattered. Honored that Piper trusted her that way—though she wondered if Piper had surprised herself as much as she’d surprised Lindsay…it kind of seemed like she had. Still. It was an event Lindsay didn’t take lightly. She understood, simply by watching Piper’s face, by listening to her voice, that being there was a huge deal. Lindsay took that seriously, and things shifted a bit with that surprise.
And then last night.
“Hey, you okay?” Bert’s voice yanked Lindsay harshly back to reality. Probably a good thing.
“Yeah.” She nodded. “Fine. Just a little tired. You know.” She lifted her eyebrows up twice so Bert would think she was being a frat brother rather than having an internal panic attack about what would happen next. Because the truth was, she hadn’t a clue what would happen next. And Lindsay hated that.
* * *
These people are horrible.
It was a thought she couldn’t get out of her head no matter how hard she tried, and finally, Piper gave up. Because it was the truth and she needed to simply accept it.
She’d held out hope. She’d been banking on the fact that her current bosses gave a crap about their people, that even after they took the massive amount of money they’d each garner from the merger, they’d still make sure those who had worked for them for years, those who had helped them build their company from the ground up and make it into the successful, buyable company it was today, were taken care of.
It was rapidly becoming clear that this was not the case. Not even a little bit.
Piper looked around the large mahogany conference table, scanning the faces of her fellow managers as well as her three bosses who sat at one end of it. At least they had the good sense to stare at their own hands as the four executives from Harbinger went over their plan for slowly eliminating three unsuspecting departments, shaving the customer service department by nearly 40 percent, and bringing in six of their own upper-level managers to help the transitions run smoothly. Ian had stopped giving her looks and instead, had resorted to kicking her under the table every time more bad news was delivered. She was going to have a severely black-and-blue ankle when this meeting was over.
Why would I want to work for a company that would put me in such a position? They obviously suck.
Without warning, Lindsay’s voice echoed through Piper’s head. She’d been right all along, hadn’t she? Slowly, Piper shook her head back and forth, then stopped abruptly as Ian kicked her again and she shot him a warning look. He shifted his gaze to the tabletop in front of him, gleaming with his reflection. Piper could feel the despair coming off him like heat, and she was both annoyed and relieved to feel it within herself as well.
The Harbinger guy speaking told them layoffs wouldn’t begin for a month or so after the initial merger. Piper wanted to correct him with “why don’t you just call it what it is: a takeover,” but she stayed quiet. He was, unsurprisingly, a white man in his sixties with an impeccably tailored suit, a red power tie that somehow looked more expensive than Ian’s, and a manicure. The first thing you thought when you saw him was that he was wealthy. His smile reminded her of the clown in the Stephen King movie It: no surprise it was there, but it was creepy and sinister, and Piper wanted to avoid it at all costs.
She managed to keep her ass in her chair and her mouth shut throughout the entire meeting. Even more impressive: Ian did the same. When the gathering finally broke up and everybody was excused, she and Ian both blew out heavy breaths, then looked at each other with sad smiles.
“This sucks,” Ian said quietly.
“Agreed.”
They parted ways in the hall, each heading to their own office. Piper closed her office door, flopped into her chair, and blew out yet another large breath, surprised she had so many.
Why would I want to work for a company that would put me in such a position? They obviously suck.
There was Lindsay again, invading her head, seeping into her thoughts. Well. It wasn’t like she’d ever left, not since last night. But Piper had done an admirable job shoving her to that back corner so she could deal with work stuff. And now here was Lindsay, chiming in on work stuff.
Piper opened her email program as she tried to remember whether Kat had taken up so much headspace after they’d first slept together. It had been good, there was no doubt, but it hadn’t been earth-shattering or anything. Piper was a practical woman. She wasn’t a hopeless romantic and she’d never expect sex with anybody to be earth-shattering. That was saved for romance novels and rom-com movies. As long as it
was good, she was fine with that.
Sex with Lindsay had been beyond good. It had been pretty damn close to earth-shattering, and she wasn’t sure what to do with that. Sure, she could throw herself into her work. She could focus on the business aspects of running Vineyard. But Lindsay would creep in. She already was, as evidenced by today, by just now. It seemed she was slowly invading all aspects of Piper’s life: her kayaking, her parents’ wine bar, her job, her bed. The weird thing was, Piper wasn’t freaked out about it, even though she knew she should be. Her control was slipping right through her fingers, and that should have her panicking.
What is happening to me?
Doing her best to shake the thoughts away, Piper focused on her computer screen. Typing quickly and efficiently, she created a group email and sent it to each of her staff members. She asked them, if at all possible, to stay late tonight for an extra twenty minutes. Half an hour, tops. They’d meet in her office at 5:30.
She clicked Send before she could second-guess herself.
Yeah. Lindsay was invading everything.
Chapter Seventeen
“Isn’t Zack scheduled tonight?”
Bridget’s question startled Lindsay, who realized she’d been daydreaming while leaning on the bar.
“I’m sorry?” she asked, giving her head a slight shake and blinking several times.
Bridget squinted at her. “You’ve been looking awfully schmoopy lately. What’s that about?”
“Schmoopy? Is that an actual word?”
“Yes. I’m sure it is.” Bridget studied her for a moment, her dark eyes so intensely focused on Lindsay, it was difficult not to squirm.
“Stop that,” Lindsay said, turning away and busying herself by rearranging glasses that didn’t need rearranging.
After a beat, Bridget let it go and repeated her question. “Wasn’t Zack supposed to be here at six?”
Lindsay squinted and looked at the ceiling. “Yeah, I think so.” This was the third time in less than two weeks that he’d either been late or had called in at the last minute. “I’ll have a talk with him.”
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