by Maisey Yates
“Not so much.”
“Takeout. Glorious takeout. Will Chinese do? I seem to recall you eating it.”
“Anything will do.”
“Great, okay.” She punched in the numbers and rattled off her typical order without thinking. So there were some things that felt normal, some things that were easy to slip back into. “It’ll be here in thirty. Do you need a . . . shower or anything?”
His eyes darkened, his gaze raking over her body. And just like that she was totally hot for him. “Only if you want to join me.”
In her house. Her house that she’d shared with her ex. The idea seemed weird. Not that her ex mattered, because he didn’t. But . . . it seemed domestic, maybe. She was trying to avoid domestic with Cole. She was trying very hard to avoid it.
Yes, Kels, and taking him to meet the parents is the way to do that.
“Not right now. I need to go . . . flush the toilets and stuff.” She wrinkled her nose. “There’s probably algae in them.”
“Pleasant.”
“Not in the least.”
“You get the upstairs, I’ll get the down,” he offered.
“My hero,” she said, clasping her hands beneath her chin.
“Damsel in distress . . . yeah, I don’t believe it for a moment.”
She batted her eyes and made her way up the narrow staircase. Everything was as she left it. Clean and utterly un–lived in.
She scurried quickly into the bathroom and flushed the toilet, hoping things weren’t too musky and disgusting. She wandered into her room and looked at the bed. She’d bought it a couple of years ago. It was big enough for two.
And yeah, she was going to share with Cole. No point in not sharing with him.
Even though it was going to feel very couple-ish. But that wasn’t really a bad thing. She could give it a chance. Maybe see how things went.
And then what? Marry the guy and be a happy family?
For one, glowing second, her answer to that was yes. But she knew that wasn’t reality.
It would be more like strapping themselves to the same ball and chain. It wouldn’t solve anything. Wouldn’t make anything easier. Not in reality. And she would be another wife who wasn’t what he wanted or need.
Except sometimes she felt like it would be great. Like things would be magically easier. That was just dumb girlyness. Marriage wasn’t easy. Marriage to Cole wouldn’t be easy. She would always wonder if he felt . . . well, if he felt leg-shackled, and that was the last thing she wanted.
She let out a breath and walked out of the bedroom, closing the door behind her.
She wasn’t going to worry about it now. For now she would go downstairs and have dinner with Cole. When she was with him, things might not seem simple, but she was happy.
She tried not to dwell too much on what that might mean.
***
“I don’t really have a guest bed made up. I hope that’s not a problem.” Kelsey stood at her bedroom door, Cole in front of her, looking down at her, his expression hungry. And since they’d just finished dinner, she was sure he wasn’t hungry for food.
“I don’t have a problem with that at all.”
She pushed the door open and went and sat on the edge of her very feminine bed.
“Everything in your house is . . . floral,” he said, surveying the decor.
“Yeah, I know. I like flowers.” She smoothed the blue fabric of her bedspread. “Another compelling reason you might want to rethink your offer of marriage. Think of how feminine your house might become.”
“It is a risk.” He tugged his shirt up over his head, and her mouth dried.
“Yes . . . Yes, it is.” She watched with rapt interest as his hands went to his belt and worked the leather through the loops. Then he undid the snap on his jeans. She licked her lips.
“Kelsey, the way you’re looking at me is enough to make me blush.”
“I doubt you know how to blush, Cole.”
His lips curved into a half smile and he shoved his jeans and underwear down his legs. And now he was very naked, very aroused, and unashamed.
Great. She could be that way too. Bold and naked. And just . . . all out there. That was one of the many good things about Cole. She didn’t feel unexciting with him. She didn’t feel average. Cole made her feel like a goddess. The way he looked at her, the way he touched her, like he couldn’t get enough . . . he made her feel like a woman.
Enough woman for him. And he was all the man she ever could have asked for.
She tugged her top over her head and reached around to unhook her bra, yanking it down and throwing it onto the floor before she stood and took her jeans and panties off as quickly as possible, hoping it might minimize the embarrassment of total nudity with the lights on.
“Now, you, Kelsey,” he said, taking a step toward her, running his thumb across her cheekbone, “are blushing.”
She shook her head. “No way.”
“You are.” He leaned in and kissed her on the cheek. “I think it’s cute.”
“Cute, huh?”
“I mean that in the best way.” He bent and kissed her. And his kiss was most definitely not cute. It was pure, raw, sexual need. And it was exactly what she needed.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down onto the bed with her, reveling in the feeling of his skin against hers.
“You’re . . . you’re just so hot,” she moaned, running her hands down his back, gripping his tight butt.
He chuckled and dipped his head, tracing the outline of her nipple with his tongue. She arched into him, needing to be closer to him. As close to him as she could be.
When she was in his arms, it all seemed to make sense. Everything else faded away. Worries. What-ifs. The expectations of other people. When she was with him, it was like the world was reduced to Cole and Kelsey. Like nothing else mattered.
She slithered away from him and sat up, looking at the picture he made. So masculine and big, spread on out on her flowery bed. She ran her hand down his arm, over his well-defined bicep. This felt like playtime. A chance to explore a body that was as close to male perfection as existed, she was sure.
She leaned in and pressed a kiss to his chest, and his muscles went taut beneath her lips.
“What are you doing?” he asked, his voice strained.
“I’m about to have my wicked way with you.” She pressed a kiss to his abs. “I think you should let me.”
“Kelsey . . .”
“What? You don’t like this?” She ran the tip of her tongue down below his belly button. “I think you do.”
“I’m close.”
“That’s fine. If I have my way you’ll be finished.”
She lowered her head, flicked her tongue over the head of his cock. His body jerked beneath her, and a rush of power flooded through her. Right now, he was her captive. She was in command.
She wrapped her hand around his shaft and guided him into her mouth, gratified by the raw sound of need that escaped his lips.
He put his hand on the back of her head, tangling his fingers in her hair, holding her to him.
“Yes,” he whispered, his voice broken.
She slid her tongue down the length of him, then back up, before taking him deep into her mouth again.
“Careful,” he said, pulling away from her.
“What?” she asked.
“I’m right on the edge, baby.”
“That’s fine. Let’s go over together.”
“Really together though,” he said. “Not like that.”
“I was fine with it being like that.”
“Later. Come here.” He leaned back against her headboard, extending his hand. She took it. He tugged her to him so that she was draped over his body, her thighs on either side of his, and he kissed her deeply, guiding her so that the head of his erection was poised at the slick entrance to her body.
She lowered herself onto him, loving how he stretched her, filled her. She held on to hi
s shoulders as she started to move over him.
Her release flooded her, sudden, fast and hard. She held on to him while she rode out the storm, while she shook with the aftermath of her orgasm. He followed her a second later, tensing beneath her, his fingers digging into her hips.
She collapsed against him, her head resting on his chest, his heat raging beneath her cheek.
“I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of that,” he said, his voice rough.
“It’s not possible,” she mumbled, wrapping her arms around his waist.
He shifted, lying down and bringing her with him, drawing the blankets over them. “Cole . . .” she knew he wasn’t the kind of guy who did pillow talk. He didn’t talk about himself very much at all. But he’d shared some very personal things with her since she’d met him, and they’d done some very personal things in bed. So she was willing to give it a shot. “Why haven’t you found any other women? Since your divorce, I mean. You were with women you didn’t marry before your wife. Why not after?”
He tightened his hold on her, his heart rate slowing. “I haven’t wanted to.”
“But you seem to want to. I mean . . . you really seem to want to.”
He stroked her hair, his touch firm. Comforting. “I do with you. Honest, Kelsey, I wasn’t interested before you came into my life. I didn’t even want to find someone to sleep with. It seeme like too much work. But you make it . . . you make me want to work for it.”
“What made me so special?” she asked. She regretted the words as soon as they left her lips. She wasn’t special. She was the screw-up. The black sheep. She’d proven it by the way she and Cole had met. A mistake. A big mistake. And the only reason he wanted her was for the baby. It had nothing to do with her. But she hoped he’d lie. Lie and make her feel good.
“You just are,” he said. He tilted her face up so that she was looking at him. “You really are.”
Her heart tightened, a strange heat spreading through her chest. It didn’t matter if it was a lie. It was the prettiest lie ever. “Well, thank you.”
He laughed, a sound she was hearing more often lately. “You don’t need to thank me for that.”
“It seemed polite. Hospitable.”
“I see. Is that what this was? Your hospitality?” His eyes glittered with humor.
“I’m an excellent hostess,” she said, deadpan.
“It was also very hospitable of you to lay me down and offer to suck my—”
She put her hand over his mouth, laughter bubbling out. “Stop! You’re ruining the moment by being a guy.”
He laughed under her hand, then gripped her wrist, peeling her palm off his mouth and giving her a quick kiss. “Sorry. I won’t be a guy anymore.”
She’d never laughed like this after sex. Ever. “I like it when you’re a guy.”
“I’m glad to hear it.”
She curled up against him, his heartbeat steady and soothing against her cheek. She let her eyes flutter closed. For tonight, she wasn’t going to worry about why they were together. She was just looking forward to spending the whole night wrapped in Cole’s arms.
***
Cole could feel Kelsey’s tension heightening the closer they got to Bonanza. Gone were the smiling, the laughing, the joking. The touching. She had both hands on the wheel, her shoulders shrugged up by her ears, her jaw set tight, her expression focused.
Ten miles out of town and she’d shut the radio off. By the time they pulled onto the dirt road that led back to her parents’ two-story farmhouse, he was afraid she might burst a blood vessel.
She put the car in park in front of the house and then put her hands back on the wheel. She didn’t shut the engine off.
“Are you okay?” he asked, putting his hand over hers.
She didn’t turn to him. “Fine,” she said.
“Yeah, honey, that’s not a real convincing way to demonstrate how fine you are.”
Her head whipped in his direction. “What’s not?”
“You’re . . . clenched. Your entire being is clenched.”
“I am not.”
He uncurled her fingers from the steering wheel slowly, then held her hands, still formed into little claws, in both of his. “You are.”
She pulled her hands back and shook them out. “I’m fine. It’s just my . . . family.” She put her head back on the seat. “Aw, dammit.”
“What?”
“I didn’t really tell them you were coming. And also I didn’t really work out the sleeping arrangements in advance, and now it’s going to be A Thing.”
“It won’t be A Thing. I’ll sleep in another room.”
She blew out a breath. “The fact that you even know that that’s what my mom would make you do . . . it’s like you get them.”
He shrugged. “In a way, I do. I was raised to respect women and to respect the parents of the woman I’m dating. Seeing. Having a baby with.”
“Yeah, well, normal people would just show us to our room. We’re in our thirties, for heaven’s sake. But they won’t. And they’re going to raise eyebrows at you, because, well . . .” She indicated her slightly rounded belly.
“And just last week you could have said we weren’t sleeping together.”
Her cheeks turned pink. “Times change.”
“People get laid. Ready to go in?”
She let out a heavy breath. “As ready as I’ll ever be.” She leaned forward and hit the button that popped the trunk, then straightened.
“Hey,” he said. She looked up at him. “Before we go in.” He leaned forward and touched his lips to hers. He felt the tension drain from her and his heart swelled in response. That he’d had a hand in relaxing her. That his touch meant something.
They parted, and she offered him a weak, unconvincing smile. “All right. I’m about as ready to do this as I am to get stabbed in the eye with a fork.”
“So not at all.”
“Astute,” she said, deadpan.
“Come on, chicken.”
“Asshole.”
“It’s been said. Repeatedly.”
She opened the car door, and he got out with her, holding out his hand. She looked at it and chewed on her lip, then shook her head slowly. “Better not. Not yet.”
He put his hands in his pockets and followed her up the muddy walk to the front door. It was white with blue-checked curtains in the windows. Quaint and shabby, but neat.
Kelsey knocked.
“You’re going to draw blood on that lip,” he said.
She stopped biting it for a second and shot him a wide-eyed look. He hadn’t seen her look scared before. Not really. Sick, yes. Pissed? Yes. Annoyed and uncomfortable? Sure. But not scared. She was scared now. He hated that her parents had that kind of power over her. But then, he supposed everyone’s did, really. He’d been a teenager when his mom had died, but when she’d been mad at him, even when he’d been taller than her by a foot, he’d felt like a grubby five-year-old with his hand caught in the cookie jar. And his dad . . . the fear of disappointing his dad had kept him in a marriage after the old man was dead. Parents had power.
The door swung open to reveal an older woman who looked a lot like Kelsey. Her blonde hair was faded, her face lined. But she had the same petite frame and the same vivid blue eyes as the woman at his side.
He wondered if the blue eyes were a strong trait. If their baby would have them.
Kelsey’s mom looked from Kelsey to him, her expression questioning. “Kelsey. I didn’t know you were bringing a guest.”
“If it’s a problem I can get a room in town,” Cole said, feeling like the interloper he was.
Kelsey’s mother shook her head. “Not a problem.”
“I’m sorry, Mom. I didn’t . . . think. I didn’t realize he was going to . . . Mom, this is Cole.”
She extended her hand to him, and he shook it. “Lisa Noble. Very nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you too,” he said.
“Come on in,” she said,
her eyes never leaving Cole. “Your dad and sisters will be here soon. And the grandkids.”
He noticed that made Kelsey smile. “Great. I’ve missed everyone.”
“You should visit more.”
He could sense Kelsey tensing beside him. “Sorry. I know. I’ve been . . . busy. With . . . things.”
Like vomiting, he mused.
“You’re always busy,” her mother said. There wasn’t a lot of venom in the words, but Cole could still tell they stung.
“Sorry, Mom.” He looked at Kelsey, who seemed to have shrunk a little. He also noticed for the first time that the top she was wearing was very loose-fitting. It covered the bump completely while she was standing. Probably a good thing.
Kelsey fought the urge to start pacing. She was so nervous she thought she might explode. She felt awkward, she was sure Cole felt awkward, and her mom probably felt awkward because Kelsey had shown up with a great, hulking cowboy without giving any explanation as to who he was or why he was with her.
“Would you like something to drink?” her mother asked. She was a good hostess, even in situations like this, Kelsey had to give her that.
“Just a soda,” Kelsey said, sitting on the faded blue couch that she’d sat on so many times. She had a strange sense of déjà vu wash over her. Probably because she’d sat on the couch so many times while keeping a secret from her parents, while gearing up to tell them something they weren’t going to like.
“Same,” Cole said, sitting next to her.
She wanted to push him away. She was a chicken; he was right. She wanted him to sit across the room from her and pretend to be her best friend. Her gay best friend. And she wanted to leave out the part where she told them she was pregnant.
Unfortunately, that would be pretty pointless. Because the longer she kept it from them, the more hideously awful it would be.
“Don’t get too handsy,” she whispered.
“I’ll do my best,” he said. She looked at him and saw a glitter of humor in his eyes. She hated it. Hated that he could be relaxed or see any humor in any part of this situation. She also needed him to have a sense of humor, since she was so brittle she was ready to snap in half.