Love or Luxury

by Heather Thurmeier

  Oh, God. Had anyone ever kissed her this way before? She could feel his desire for her in every movement, yet he was so controlled, so restrained, as if he was forcing himself to be gentle with her. Goddamn, it was sexy as hell.

  What would it be like to kiss him when he wasn't showing this kind of restraint?

  The thought literally made her knees go weak. He broke their kiss and steadied her with his arm around her waist. "Perhaps we should take a break from the dancing if your feet are tired."

  She nodded in response, unable to form words with a tongue that still tasted like dark ale, and allowed him to lead her by the hand back to their table. She took a couple sips of her drink, the cool liquid not standing a chance at dampening the fire brewing inside her belly.

  Wow, just wow.

  Her brain refused to form complete thoughts as she sipped her drink and watched as Finn took a pull of his ale, the dark liquid flowing past his lips. Lips that had just been on hers in the middle of a crowded dance floor. When he licked the light colored foam off his top lip, she worried she might have actually drooled and reached for her napkin to wipe her own lips.

  Yep. Wow.

  The waitress set down plates of steak and baked potatoes. The meat was cooked perfectly, and the seasoning was better than most of the upscale restaurants she'd been to before. He hadn't been lying when he'd said the food was amazing.

  "What do you think?" he asked after swallowing a bite.

  "It's delicious."

  "Agreed," he said. The tone in his voice made her look up from her steak. His expression strongly suggested that he wasn't talking about the steak being delicious, but someone instead.

  She blushed and took another big sip of her drink, finishing it. The alcohol settled nicely into her blood stream while she finished her dinner. They ordered a round of coffee as well as dessert.

  "So, do you have any siblings?" he asked.

  "None. You?"

  "I have two older brothers. They're total pains in my butt." It was nice to hear him kid about his relationship with his brothers. A relationship she'd never get to experience.

  Growing up with Chase had been the closest thing to a sibling she'd ever had. He'd never felt like a brother to her because he wasn't her brother. They just happened to live in the same house. But when she crossed the line and hit on him in hopes of getting over her feelings for Reid, well, she'd lost any chance at a possible relationship with Chase—even friendship.

  "You joke around, but I bet it's nice to have brothers around to hang out with."

  He nodded. "It is. Don't get me wrong. They are total pains, but they are also great to grab a beer with after work."

  "They aren't married either? No sister-in-law waiting for her husband to come while you steal him away for beers?" she teased. Although it was hard to believe none of the three brothers, adult brothers, would have married by now.

  "We're not exactly the marrying kind." He took a bite of his food.

  Well, there was another good reason why this date with Finn was just for fun and why she'd spent years waiting for Reid to come home. Rebecca wanted someone to marry, not someone to live with. Reid still seemed like the typical Meadow guy who would want to get married, but had that changed while he'd been away?

  "Marriage isn't for everyone, I guess." What else could she say? She didn't want to ruin what was otherwise a really great time with Finn. Besides, it didn't matter if he wanted to get married or not because she didn't want to marry Finn. And knowing that a marriage with him would never be possible would help her keep this… thing, whatever it was… with him from getting more serious than a few good kisses. Great kisses.

  "What do you usually do when you're not working?" he asked.

  Besides figuring out what to sell next to feed myself?

  She shrugged off the negative thought. No room for negativity on her date with Finn. "I usually meet up with the girls and go for dinner and drinks."

  "Don't you get tired of being in restaurants after working in one all day?"

  "Sometimes, but I like to visit with the girls, and if that's what they want to do, then that's what we do. I wouldn't mind staying in and watching movies once in a while, but my girlfriends aren't into staying in."

  "What are they into?"

  "Drinks, dancing, shopping… boys." She tilted her head to the side with that last option, hoping it came off as flirting like she wanted it to. "What are you and your brothers usually up to after work?"

  "Burgers, beers, the game… girls." He tilted his head to mimic hers.

  She laughed. He was so damn cute. She wanted to lean across the table and kiss him again. He was so completely opposite from the guys she'd been dating. Casual, easygoing, and funny—she loved every minute of this date. And she didn't want it to end. It was nice to feel so carefree for once.

  Even though she knew her coffee would grow cold and the ice cream on her slice of pecan pie would melt, she pulled him up from the booth and out onto the dance floor again. Dessert might not taste quite as good after dancing another few songs, but at least she'd have a way to keep the date going. Maybe she'd even get another kiss, too.

  Chapter Five

  Two hours later, Finn took Rebecca by the hand and wove his way through the now extremely busy restaurant and out onto the street. The air had cooled off a few degrees in the hours they'd been inside. He kept forgetting it was getting closer and closer to cold weather. The days were still so warm that it was easy to expect the evenings to be the same, but they weren't.

  The cold air felt great on his hot skin. He was sweaty from all the dancing—and kissing—they'd done on the dance floor… and in the booth over fresh coffees and desserts.

  "Holy crap, it's cold." Rebecca rubbed her hands up and down her arms. "I should have worn a different shirt."

  He peeked at her shirt and saw two beaded treasures teasing him from beneath it. If only he could take her home and warm her up in his bed, but that wouldn't be gentlemanly, and he wanted to make the right moves with Rebecca. Kissing would have to be enough for tonight.

  He pulled her close to his side and wrapped his arms around her as best he could. "Let's get you home."

  When they reached his motorcycle, he set her helmet on the seat with his—funny, yesterday that had just been my extra helmet—and pulled out the leather bomber jacket he'd tucked into the saddle bag earlier. It wasn't very thick, and it would be huge on her, but it would keep her warmer on the back of his bike.

  "Put this on," he said, holding the jacket open for her.

  "I can't, you'll be cold driving. I'll be fine behind you. You'll block the wind for me," she said, shivering.

  "Don't make me hold you down and force you into it," he teased. He'd never lay a hand on her that way, but he was going to bug her until she accepted his coat.

  "Fine." She turned her back to him and slipped her arms into his coat.

  As expected, the jacket came down to her mid-thigh, and she probably could have wrapped it around her body a few times, but it was better than having her shivering. And holy hell, did she look foxy in his coat. He pictured her standing in his room in those stiletto boots and his jacket… and nothing else.

  His pants grew tighter thinking about it.

  She didn't bother to zip his coat as they climbed onto his bike for the return trip. She let it hang open at the sides as she wrapped her arms around his waist.

  No timid grip this time.

  Nope.

  This time she settled right into him, her chest pressing against his back with one hand pressing firmly on his stomach while the other reached closer to his pecs. She could probably feel his heart pounding fast under her hand. But would she know it was because of her touch?

  As he pulled to a stop at the crosswalk where he'd picked her up earlier, he cursed the trip for not being longer. He already missed the feel of her on his bike now that she stood beside him, her hair once again free of the helmet and wild as ever.

  "Are you sure I c
an't walk you to your door? I can't stand the thought of you walking home from here so late at night." He sat perched on his bike, as she'd insisted he do, after removing and storing her helmet.

  "I'll be fine. You know the Meadow is completely safe at night, and I literally live one minute from here. It's no big deal."

  She opened the front of his jacket to slip it off, but he tugged the edges of the zipper back together so she couldn't. Then he pulled her up against the side of the bike, her thighs ending up on either side of his knee. He fought back the urge to groan at the sensation of her body pressing against him that way. By the look of lust in her eyes, she was fighting an urge, too.

  "Keep the jacket until I see you again." His voice came out strained and gruff, partly because of the evening spent talking and dancing, and partly because he tried—and failed miserably—to keep his desire for her from coming through. She nodded. He noted she was once again at a loss for words this evening. "Keep this until next time, too."

  He leaned into her, claiming her mouth with his. He didn't even try to fight the moan that came from the deepest regions of his body when she nibbled on his bottom lip then plunged her tongue into his mouth. He could kiss her all night.

  He could think of about a million other things he could do with her all night, too. But not tonight. Tonight, he would go home alone totally satisfied—well, mostly satisfied—after one of the best first dates he'd ever had.

  She pulled back from him, and he reluctantly forced himself to let her go. "Until next time," she said as she stepped backward onto the curb, snuggling his jacket up under her chin as if she was trying to breathe in his scent. He liked the thought of that. A lot.

  "Until next time." He fit his helmet back on his head, revved the engine, and started down the road. As he waited at a light, he watched in his side mirror as she walked down the street and disappeared around the corner.

  * * * *

  Rebecca sat on the couch with her feet tucked under her and a blanket over her lap to trap in as much heat as possible, sipping a glass of tap water. Long gone were the days of relaxing with a glass of wine after work. Even the cheapest box of wine was out of her price range right now.

  "It was pretty awesome," she said to Scarlett on the other end of her cell phone. "I've never been on the back of a motorcycle before."

  "Were you scared? Or were you too distracted, clinging to his body, to be bothered by fear?"

  "Both." She laughed. "I was totally terrified, but clinging to him was amazing and a distraction I would happily put up with anytime. I'm positive there was a full six-pack under his shirt."

  Scarlett sighed. "He sounds delicious."

  "He is." Rebecca couldn't keep the grin off her face. Like the cat who'd swallowed the canary, she was caught. No way to pretend she wasn't already totally lusting after Finn.

  "Did you smooch him?"

  Rebecca loved hearing the curiosity in Scarlett's voice. Scarlett was always the best to talk to about boyfriend stuff. Not that Finn was a boyfriend—he could never be a boyfriend. But anything even remotely romance-y was perfect for Scarlett, a total hopeless romantic, waiting to be swept off her feet by her prince.

  If only Rebecca believed in the same sentiment.

  But try as she might, she didn't. Her parents certainly hadn't gotten a fairytale, so why should she think her love life would ever be anything different?

  Of course there had been a time—forever ago—when she'd believed in fairytales. She'd even been foolish enough to believe she would have her own "rags to riches" story. When her father had accepted the job as the Blooms' personal driver and they actually got to live with the Blooms and she'd gotten to go to school in the Meadow, she'd thought it was the start of something good.

  It had been for a while.

  But like all times in real life, the fairytale bubble popped, her father retired, and she'd moved out of the estate. Her rags to riches story became a "rags to riches to rags" story.

  Pretty soon all she'd have left in this shell of an apartment would be rags.

  "Earth to Rebecca," Scarlett teased, "I'm not getting off this phone because you get all daydreamy about Finn. Spill it, girl, or I'll be forced to come to your apartment and tie you to the couch until you tell me."

  That got her attention. No way was she letting Scarlett or any of the other girls over to her place anytime soon.

  "Oh, calm down. No one's tying me to anything. Well, maybe if a certain hot guy asked very nicely, but still probably, no."

  "Someone's head really was in the gutter now, wasn't it?"

  "It wasn't in the gutter exactly. The sheets maybe." She cleared her throat. "Moving on. Yes, we kissed and yes, it was absolutely awesome."

  "Wow. So he kissed you goodnight?"

  "And on the dance floor before dinner." Her tone turned dreamy, remembering the feel of Finn's lips on hers as the dance floor pulsed around them. "And after dinner at our table. And…"

  "You go, girl." Scarlett cheered. "I'm impressed. Did he take you to the new place in town? Oh, what's it called? You know, the new place with the dance floor that looks out over the canal? Biscuits! Why can't I think of it?"

  Rebecca smiled at Scarlett's frustration. She was terrible with names, and she came up with the most ridiculous substitutions for swearwords. Rebecca never understood why Scarlett bothered coming up with alternatives. If you mean to swear, then do it. It feels good to curse, Goddamn it.

  "You're thinking of The Birchwood. We didn't go there. Actually, we didn't go anywhere in the Meadow, which was kind of nice."

  "Where'd he take you?"

  "To this awesome little place in the city. The food was great, and there was a live band and dancing all night. It was so much fun."

  "Sounds good, but different." Scarlett got quiet for a moment before continuing. She sucked in a quick breath. "You don't think he's a scam artist do you? Some sleazy guy trying to woo you so he can steal all your money."

  I'd have to have money for him to steal it.

  "No, Scarlett, he's not sleazy."

  "That's what they all say before the guy sleeps with them and then takes all their jewelry in the middle of the night and disappears, never to be heard from again."

  "I think you've been staying up late again, watching too many crime shows. You need to chill. Finn is a nice guy, not a scam artist. He's just not from the Meadow, so he does things a little differently than we're used to." She sighed at the reminder of why she was stupid to have gone on the fabulous date with Finn to begin with. She definitely shouldn't have agreed to keep his jacket so she'd have to see him again. What was she thinking?

  "I'm sure you're right, but do me a favor and be careful, okay?"

  "I promise. I should go. I have to get up early tomorrow for my shift at the diner—"

  Shit! Think—shit, think faster!

  "—I mean that, um, fundraiser I told you I was going to do again at that diner downtown. Remember how we help out and then the proceeds from the day go to the women's shelter?"

  "Oh, yeah, I forgot you were doing that again. Do want some help? I can probably drop by for a couple of hours to lend a hand."

  No way!

  "Thanks, but we have tons of volunteers showing up tomorrow as it is. I'm sure I'll have more than enough help. But thanks for the offer."

  "Okay. I'll see you later this week at the usual, right?"

  "Yep. I'll talk to you later."

  Rebecca hung up the phone and collapsed against the couch. That was close. Too close. Another slip and it wouldn't be long before someone found out her "charity work" was actually her real "pay the bills" job.

  * * * *

  Slinging her purse back onto her shoulder, Rebecca walked out of the thrift shop with a fatter wallet. This time she had to say goodbye to the Louis Vuitton suitcase set Mr and Mrs Bloom had given her on her sixteenth birthday, right before her big school trip to Italy. They'd been so generous with their gifts over the years, but this one had been the most lavish
.

  And that trip had been a trip of a lifetime.

  It felt like a lifetime ago.

  The luggage held a lot of memories, but they were still her memories, even if she didn't have the luggage to go with them anymore. And since she wasn't likely to afford a big vacation in the near future, she saw no reason to keep the beautiful luggage any longer. Not when she still had next month's rent—and food—to worry about. Besides which, when she was finally forced to move out of her apartment, all the clothes in her closet would fit nicely into the one large duffle she'd kept from the luggage set. Sad, but true.

  Oh, and she still needed something to wear for her date out with Dr Reid Harper. They were meeting at Luna tonight, and it wasn't exactly the kind of place she could go to in just anything. Nope. She should have thought about the dress code before agreeing to meet him there. But the lure of her favorite tapas and sangria was too delicious to ignore.

  Now she had to spend some money, hopefully not a lot, and find a dress to wear. Thank goodness there was one of those brand-names-for-less-type stores down the street from the diner. She could pop in there after work and quickly pick something up.

  Pulling open the front door of the diner, the little bell dinged to announce her arrival. She stuffed her purse into her tiny locker on the shelf under the register and twisted the dial, relieved she actually had money in her wallet to worry about for a change.

  "Emmett, I'm here," she called through the food service window into the kitchen.

  "'Bout time, missy. Nice of you to show up."

  Oh, good. He's in one of his moods today. Must be that time of the month. And they say only women have PMS.

  "Sorry. I had a thing I had to do."

  "Yeah, it's called a job, and if you want to keep it, you'll show up on time from now on."

  Rebecca turned her back to the window, knowing no good would come from talking to Emmett when he was in one of his moods. She'd been five minutes late. Get over it.

  She grabbed her apron off the counter and wrapped it around her waist, tying the straps behind her back.