by Hope Ramsay
He stacked his hands behind his head and watched as she freed him. But his watchfulness disappeared when she went down on him. She reveled in the taste and smell of him and in the way he enjoyed this pleasure-filled moment. But he didn’t allow it to go on for too long.
Courtney found the tables reversed as he rolled her over, pinned her to the bed, and kissed her senseless right before he efficiently stripped both of them of their clothes.
And after that, Matthew Lyndon showed Courtney Wallace just how incredible sex with Mr. Right can be.
The scent of coffee and frying bacon awakened Matt. He cracked his eye, suddenly alarmed by the angle of the sunlight pouring through Courtney’s French doors. He checked his watch: 7:45 a.m.—late for a weekday if you worked at a law firm.
He sat up and stopped himself from reacting to the time flashing on the clock. Instead, he took a big breath and let himself enjoy the combined scents of bacon, coffee, and Courtney that filled his head. It would be nice to wake up to this every morning.
The thought engendered no panic. Courtney was not Allison Chapman. She wasn’t cruel or selfish. Of course, she’d jacked him around at first, but that was because she’d known about his bet with Brandon. That bet was way in the past now. Trust had somehow grown between them despite everything.
So racing off to work would be the wrong move.
Besides, what was he racing off to do? Every day, Matt sat alone for hours at a time in his little cubbyhole office, working on divorces and trusts and wills. Every day David and Dad found ways to remind him of his inexperience. No one at LL&K appreciated his quixotic need to expose Bill Cummins and his cushy relationship with GB Ventures.
No, he didn’t need to dash off to work. The firm’s office hours were nominally nine to five, so he had some time. Who was he trying to impress anyway, getting to work every day before 8:00 a.m.?
He put on his jeans and shirt and followed the scent of bacon. Halfway down the hall, a pair of identical gray and white kittens greeted him. He checked his pockets. Sure enough, Courtney had stolen his keys.
That took him aback for a moment. Had she violated his privacy or crossed any of his unstated boundaries? Probably. But on the other hand, Ghul seemed happy to be reunited with Doom. And since Matt usually fed Ghul before 6:00 a.m. every morning, Courtney had saved the kitten from going hungry and being lonely. She’d also allowed him to sleep in. How could he fault her for any of that?
He entered the apartment’s main room, with its open kitchen and dining area, and found Courtney wearing a short, flowery robe that barely covered her ass. She’d piled her hair on top of her head in a messy bun, and she bustled in the kitchen with her back toward him. Oh man, she looked like a sweet morning morsel. His mouth watered, and his groin tightened.
If it weren’t for the hour and the smell of bacon, he might have snatched her up and carried her back to the bedroom.
Instead he cleared his throat. “Morning.”
She turned, her blue eyes sparkling in the sunlight, her cheeks slightly pink either with a blush or beard burn. Either way, the effect was devastating. Delight filled him to overflowing. Last night, she’d been sad and lonely. Now look at her. Radiant, happy, and deliciously well-used.
“Hi,” she said, her plump lips curving a little like Mona Lisa’s. His mind flashed on those lips and the pleasure they had given him. “I made eggs and bacon. And I hope you don’t mind. I borrowed your keys and brought Porthos over to play with Aramis. I fed both of them. Your keys are on the counter.” She pointed.
“I don’t mind.” He sat down at the breakfast bar. Her apartment had a different layout than his. It was more up to date, and her furniture had more style and character. He liked the bold orange and yellow of her throw pillows, and the artwork on the walls. He should ask her for pointers. His walls were barren, and he hadn’t even thought about buying pillows for his couch.
“It’s okay if you don’t have time to eat breakfast. I understand,” Courtney said in a rush as she placed a plate in front of him containing two sunny-side-up eggs, toast, and several strips of bacon. How the hell did she know he liked his eggs sunny-side up?
“I have time,” he lied. He didn’t have time, but he would make time this morning.
Her smile was so wide that it lit up the room more than the sunshine. “You want coffee?”
He nodded. “Black, please.”
She placed a mug in front of him and then leaned against the countertop. “About last night…” she began, a little frown folding up the skin of her forehead.
He put up his hand to stop her. “No need to explain. We’ve all overindulged at one time or another.”
“I’m officially giving up Manhattans,” she said. “And I’m seriously thinking about giving up the Jaybird. None of my girlfriends go down there anymore. Not even Arwen. Drinking alone isn’t healthy anytime, but drinking alone with Ryan Pierce is pathetic.”
A mysterious and heretofore unknown muscle deep in his chest twisted tight, stealing his breath. What the hell? He still didn’t fully understand Courtney’s relationship with Ryan. And he suddenly wanted to know.
Damn. He’d never cared about that sort of thing before. The women he’d hooked up with had been temporary. If they had other relationships, it didn’t matter.
He didn’t like this tight feeling in his chest. Not one bit. And Ryan Pierce was an idiot if he’d been stringing Courtney along. He took a bite of bacon and chewed for a long, thoughtful moment. No wonder she’d had a crying jag last night.
“There’s nothing to be sorry about,” he finally said, once he’d swallowed the bacon.
“Yes, there is. I didn’t need to drag you into my pity party. With all my girlfriends married and Sid moving away, I don’t know, I felt as if life was leaving me behind.”
“So you know that the Dogwood Estates tenants have gotten eviction notices.”
She nodded, biting her lip. “Yeah. I’ve been trying to get Sid to move in with me, but he and Leslie seem to have something going. They were talking about moving to Arizona, where it’s warmer and cheaper.” She gave him a watery smile and continued. “Can I ask you a favor?”
He nodded. “Sure.”
“Would you ask Arwen to call me? I mean, she’s been avoiding me or something. She never wants to go down to the Jaybird anymore. You know, she’s probably like Sid. She’s probably found someone or something.”
“Um, I don’t think so.” He shook his head.
“No?”
“She’s been putting in a lot of extra hours at the office. And I’m probably the reason for that. We’ve been working on something.”
Courtney cocked her head. “On what?”
He shrugged. “It’s not that important. I thought I could figure out a way to stop the county from abusing its power and throwing people off their land and out of their homes, but yesterday David made me see the truth.”
“Abusing its power how?”
He looked up from his eggs into her curious face. And it struck him right then that Courtney could be so much more than a bed buddy, although God alone knew sex with her was nothing short of incredible. Maybe the sex was so good because there was more to Courtney than a curvy body and a pair of killer blue eyes. She had heart. She had soul. She was smart and accomplished, and sometimes she had the ability to see right through him.
“Matt?” Her voice pulled him from his thoughts. “Is something wrong?”
He shook his head. “No. It’s just that I’m frustrated in my job right at the moment.” He took a deep breath and spent the next fifteen minutes filling her in on the way Bill Cummins and several members of the Jefferson County Council had been using zoning and safety regulations to help GB Ventures acquire land at rock-bottom prices.
When he came to the end of his explanation, he shook his head. “Of course, with all this research into the County Council, I seem to have forgotten that my client is the Dogwood Estates Tenants Association. The truth is, none of the dirt I’
ve dug up on the county is going to help them. I feel so utterly useless when I think about Leslie and Sid and all the rest of the tenants.”
“Oh my God. You need to do something with this information about Bill Cummins. He’s running for reelection. This stuff could be dynamite.”
“Or it could give him a boost,” Matt said. “David pointed out yesterday that a lot of people are happy to see eyesores like Dogwood Estates disappear.”
“You have to give this information to Linda Petersen.”
“Willow’s mother?”
Courtney nodded. “Linda and Leslie are great friends, so she’s already involved in the Dogwood Estates issue. Sid told me that Linda and Leslie are planning some kind of protest for later this week. They were going to picket GB Ventures headquarters in Arlington, but now I’m thinking maybe they should picket city hall. They could use this stuff, Matt. And you know what? I’ll bet Linda has friends at the Winchester Daily who would love to have your research. The Daily has never liked Bill Cummins’s pro-growth-at-any-cost agenda.”
Her shining eyes reflected an image that had nothing to do with scorn or disappointment or mistrust. She believed in him. She believed in his cause.
He leaned across the counter and snagged her hand. “Courtney, I want to make something clear. Last night wasn’t a one-night stand. I’d like to see where this goes, okay? And I will be here precisely at six thirty to pick you up for a nice dinner date. Where would you like to go?”
The corner of her mouth ticked up. “Could we try the Red Fern Inn again?”
Chapter Sixteen
June was almost over, thank God. The last weekend was almost upon them with a flurry of weddings that kept Courtney crazy-busy with half a dozen demanding bridezillas. Her days were long and hard, but her nights were romantic and steamy and incredibly erotic.
Sleeping with Matt would have been enough. The man knew how to give and take pleasure. But Matt gave her so much more than that. He took her to dinner at the Red Fern Inn on Tuesday night and behaved like the perfect gentleman. He treated her to a candlelight dinner at his place on Wednesday night featuring linguine and clam sauce that he made himself. And on Thursday, he blew her mind by sending a bouquet of cupcakes, exquisitely decorated to look like small nosegays of violets.
“Oh my God,” Amy exclaimed when the deliveryman put them on the corner of Courtney’s desk. “Those are amazing. Are they from that new bakery in Winchester?”
Courtney nodded, although she wasn’t entirely sure. She’d mentioned the bakery to Matt last night when she’d been talking about a bride who wanted cupcake centerpieces. Good thing she intercepted the small white card that came with them before Amy got to it. Matt never failed to impress when it came to cards. She recognized his handwriting now. And of course there was a poem.
A violet by a mossy stone
Half-hidden from the eye!
—Fair as a star, when only one
Is shining in the sky.
~Wordsworth
Looking forward to seeing you shine for me tonight.
“Holy crap. I’ve never seen you blush like that, girl. What’s in that card?”
She almost told the truth. But some instinct for self-preservation stopped her. Matt was more than a Hook-up Artist, but was he Mr. Right? She wanted to believe that she’d found true love, but who could make a decision like that based on less than a week of mind-blowing sex, a couple of nice dinners, and a bouquet of cupcakes?
There were so many ways this could go wrong. And when it did, she’d probably fall apart. And if she told her friends, they would all tell her she was stupid to have gotten involved with a Hook-up Artist like Matt. And then they’d tell her to grow up and settle. Or get used to living alone.
She didn’t want to settle, but by the same token, she wasn’t some naïve girl who could be swept away with fancy gifts and dinner at a nice restaurant. So she turned toward Amy and lied. “They’re from Bethany Carr.” Bethany was the bride who wanted cupcakes at every table.
“Oh.” Amy sounded so disappointed. “They’re kind of cute, but they aren’t as pretty as real flowers.”
“That’s only because you’re biased in favor of real flowers.”
Amy gave her the stink eye, and Courtney shut up. She also slipped the card into the pocket of the dress she was wearing. No way Amy would ever get her hands on that card. Not after she’d read Matt’s first card.
Willow proved far more difficult. She dropped by Courtney’s office late in the afternoon while Amy was consulting with a client, took one look at the cupcakes, and shut the door. She sat in the single side chair, her face sober.
“Those are cute, but I have a feeling you didn’t order them yourself. And if you tell me you’re sleeping with Matt, I’m going to wring your neck.”
“They’re from Bethany Carr. She wants us to use that new bakery. For her centerpieces.”
Willow gave her the evil eye. “Have I ever told you that you are a terrible liar? Amy told me all about them. About how you blushed when you read the card.”
Pleading the fifth would not work, so she remained silent.
“Oh, my God. They are from Matt. You know this is what he does, right? I’ll bet he quoted poetry or something. Probably about violets.”
Willow had been around the block a few times. She’d suffered her share of jerks and players before finally finding the love of her life in the most unlikely of places. She meant well, but Courtney still resented the intrusion.
“You know, a few weeks ago I had this conversation with Arwen about how romance is dead in America. And here you sit staring at these cupcakes as if they are toxic or something. Why do we have to suspect every man who sends gifts?”
“I don’t suspect every man who sends gifts. But I don’t trust Matt any farther than I can throw him. Courtney, you know he’s a player. And besides, since when are you a cougar?”
Whoa, that was a low blow. “Can we leave my age out of it, please?”
“No. The last time we talked, you were the one telling me that he was too young for you. That you were just friends. I was worried then, and even more worried now. You’ve always been so clear-headed when it comes to guys like Matt. What changed?”
Everything had changed. She’d stopped looking at him that way. Now all she saw was a man with a pretty big heart and a strong set of shoulders, and a wicked-smart brain.
Willow’s gaze softened. “You’ve fallen for him, haven’t you? Damn, I saw this coming the day of Allison Chapman’s wedding.”
Courtney shrugged and looked away. “If I’ve fallen for him, it’s nobody’s business but my own.”
Willow nodded. “I guess that’s right. And I sincerely hope it works out. But just know that I’m here in case it doesn’t.” She paused a moment and leaned in. “And just a word of caution. Navigating the Lyndon family can be very difficult. Don’t expect them to be happy about you.”
“So you agree with Allison Chapman then?”
Willow’s eyes widened as she shook her head. “That’s not what I meant. If you and Matt really are in love, then you have my blessing. And of course I think you’re good enough for him. I’m just not sure he’s good enough for you. But if you and Matt really do become a couple, I’m just saying that the Lyndon family can be challenging at times.”
Courtney let go of a long breath. “Look, Willow, I’m not ever going to marry Matt Lyndon. But I’ve decided to enjoy the cupcakes while they last. Is that so wrong?”
Willow shook her head. “You sell yourself too short, Courtney. Don’t settle for anything less than true love. It’s worth the wait.”
One by one, the tenants at Dogwood Estates began to move out and move away from Jefferson County. By the first week of July, fewer than half of them still remained, among them Leslie Heath, who had rattled a few sabers by suggesting that she and several others might not move out at all—a position Matt had counseled against.
But Leslie was a fighter.
And so w
as Linda Petersen, who accepted his file with a certain amount of glee. Linda, it turned out, hated Bill Cummins because the chairman of the County Council had thrown her in jail a number of years ago for carrying signs at a council meeting. Linda practically salivated as she read through the information Matt and Arwen had compiled.
It also turned out that Linda knew a lot of Avery Johnson’s neighbors—hillbillies who’d been living up on the ridge for generations, raising pigs and chickens. She nominated herself to go up there and clue those folks in on what Cummins and GB Ventures had planned for them, and in the space of a few days, she single-handedly screwed up at least two land sales.
Linda was a whirlwind all right. And at 9:00 a.m. on Monday, July 2, Linda and more than a hundred protesters showed up at city hall in order to picket the regular first-Monday-of-the-month County Council meeting. And since Linda had coordinated her efforts with Sally Hawkes, an investigative reporter for the Winchester Daily, an exposé of Bill Cummins and his relationship with GB Ventures appeared in the July 2nd edition of the paper.
That morning, Matt stood in David’s office watching the protesters through his gigantic windows while his cousin sat fuming at his desk.
“What on earth were you thinking, giving that information to the Winchester Daily?” David snarled. “Sally Hawkes is a hack. A couple of years ago, she tried to destroy Dusty’s reputation. I can’t believe you did this.”
“I haven’t had any conversations with the Winchester Daily.” A statement that was entirely true. Matt had handed the file to David’s mother-in-law, and Linda had done all the talking.
“That was a nondenial denial. I’m starting to think you have a future in politics.”
“I gave the file to Linda,” Matt said.
“Damn.” David pounded his desk with his fist.