by Abby Brooks
Alas, he was not kidding, though the pic was so grainy we could have been anyone, anywhere. I scrolled and found a few familiar names in the discussion. “Did you see this?” I pointed to a comment. “Izzy says ‘Can confirm the chemistry was off the charts.’ And Jude added ‘You all have me to thank for this.’” I dropped the phone and closed my eyes. “How are you so cool about this?”
“It’s not that big of a deal, Evie.” Frustration crept into Alex’s voice.
“It is to me. I’m a—”
“Very private person. I know.” He grinned as he gathered me in his arms. “You weren’t very private when you were shrieking my name last night.”
“That’s because no one was around to hear.”
Alex huffed a laugh. “Morgan and Larry would beg to differ. They might never look at you the same.”
“Morgan and Larry will have to learn to deal, then. Given what you did to me last night, I didn’t have the mental faculties to care who heard.”
“What I’m hearing is I just need to sex you out of this privacy anxiety.” Alex slipped his hand under the covers and caressed my thigh. “I am definitely up for that challenge.” He shifted, whipping the blankets away and positioning himself between my legs, then kissed my inner thigh. “This is a very magical place, you know.” His finger slipped past my underwear. “All warm and soft and cozy.”
I relaxed into the pillow, suddenly caring less about who saw what on Greta’s Facebook post than I should. “Please don’t tell me you’re comparing my vagina to a sock.”
Alex’s finger deepened its magic. “There is a lot of slipping going on…”
I giggled. Then gasped. Then lost all sense of time as my body gave itself to his.
Alex collapsed beside me, grinning like an idiot. “I like waking up to that. We should definitely make that part of our morning routine.”
I propped myself up on an elbow and returned the smile. “I concur. One hundred percent. Lots and lots of sex has to be one of our cute couple things.”
He frowned. “Cute couple things?”
For half a second, I was afraid I’d jumped ahead in the relationship timeline by naming us a couple, but I squashed that worry flat. Fearless Evie didn’t fret over stuff she couldn’t control. “Yeah. You know. Couples have things. Some people make up funny words. Others buy each other stupid gifts or have silly nicknames…”
“And you want sex to be our thing?”
I arched an eyebrow. “Don’t you?”
“I am so down for being that couple who has lots of sex.” Alex stared into the distance, as if appraising the idea. “Feels original, you know?”
I giggled, content. Being with him seemed so natural in a way being with Drew never did. I’d never hung out naked in bed, making jokes after sex. I was more used to a quick cleanup, a peck on the cheek, and then dispersing to different rooms in the apartment.
Alex’s eyes met mine. His jaw dropped. “That’s it…”
“What’s it?” I asked. “Still working that sex angle?”
“No.” He sat up. “No…I think I figured out why my story’s not working. I actually think…” His eyes slipped over my shoulder as he lost himself to thought. “I think I know how to fix it.”
His excitement was contagious, the glee in his expression sending my heart over the edge. Life was rewarding us for the challenges we’d faced and now that we’d found each other, everything was falling into place. His story was coming into focus. I had friends to support me. We had each other…
“What are you still doing in bed with me?” I sat up and shooed him towards the door. “Go. Write. Be the amazing author you are.”
He bent down to kiss me, once, twice, a third time. “Wait till you read this, Evie. I see everything the story’s been missing…” His eyes were wide with wonder and excitement. “You’re never gonna see this coming.”
“I’ll definitely never see it if you never write it. Go on, silly. Get to work. Harness the magic while it’s happening.”
Alex kissed me one last time—long, deep, full of promise—then raced from the room and disappeared into the study.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Alex
Why in the world did my eyes feel like sandpaper? Probably because my face was three inches from the computer screen. I sat back, realizing for the first time that I was sitting in the dark, my laptop the only source of light in my office.
I’d written the entire day.
My hands felt like hooks. My back was stiff. My belly rumbled and my eyes burned. Physically, I was miserable but mentally? Emotionally? I was flying high. Between Evie and her magic hooha unleashing the grip writer’s block had on my words, I hadn’t felt so good in a long time.
I stepped out of the office and bellowed, “Eveline McAllister! I require sexing!”
My voice echoed through the house, interrupted by the click of Morgan’s nails as he clomped up the stairs with Larry bouncing along behind. After giving each a bit of love, I headed downstairs. “Evie?”
With my house obviously empty, I checked my phone and found two texts from a few hours ago, one from Evie and another from my agent.
I read Brighton’s first. You’re one month from your deadline and I’m sorry to say there are no more extensions. You’ve used up all the goodwill on this project. Hope you’re writing. Call me. Soon. Or just finish the book already and call me then.
One month.
One month to finish more than half a book. Yesterday I would have said it was impossible. But after today? I might just be able to pull it off.
I clicked over to Evie’s text. I checked in on you, but you seemed totally lost in the story. So happy for you! I fed the animals. Come see me when you surface?
Come see her?
I’d rather see her come. I chuckled as I added a mental rimshot. Sex with her killed three birds with one stone. Not only did we both get to have orgasms—birds one and two—but her body was the cure to my broken brain and looming deadline—bird number three. I stopped in the bathroom to rinse my mouth, then dashed across our yards and knocked on her door. When she didn’t answer, I pushed inside and bellowed, “Eveline McAllister!”
A crash sounded from the kitchen, followed by a sharp curse, then Evie’s head poking around the corner. “What is it with you Prescotts and screaming your arrival?”
I crossed the room in a few short strides, cupped her face, and kissed her deeply. “Did you know you have a magic hooha? Did you know it this entire time and were holding out on me?”
She giggled. “Magic hooha? Who even says that?”
“You must have known. That’s why you tried to talk me into not drinking last night, so I wouldn’t seduce you and discover what you’ve been hiding.”
“That’s exactly what happened. Oh, wait. No. It’s not. Not at all.” She ran a hand through my hair, taming the crazy curls. “Did you have a good day?”
“A good day? A good day? I had a freaking fantastic day. I haven’t written that much in…” I shrugged. “I don’t know that I’ve ever written like that. You’re my talisman. The…”
I was about to say, “the best thing that ever happened to me,” but I stopped short of going that far. No need to scare her off so early in the game.
“Have you eaten?” Evie asked. “The plan was to surprise you with a homecooked meal, but, you scared me pretty good and now it’s decorating the kitchen floor. I would have gone down too, but someone gave me these nifty socks.” She lifted a foot and wiggled her toes.
“Are you serious?” I stared over her shoulder at the disaster on the floor.
“I wish I wasn’t. Not only does orange chicken take some time, but it also makes quite a mess when chucked overhead and splatters to the ground.”
I apologized and helped her clean the sticky orange sauce covering the tile and cabinets. When we finished, I pulled out a chair for her to sit and massaged her neck and shoulders. While mine ached from being hunched over in my chair all day, I wante
d to lavish Evie with attention. Not only did she understand why I’d been locked in the office, but she wanted to celebrate with a homecooked meal. Could she be more perfect?
“You know what?” I pressed a kiss into her hair, inhaling deeply to memorize the scent of her shampoo. “I’ve been craving a burger from Mike’s ever since you commandeered mine. I know it’s not a great replacement for homemade orange chicken, but maybe it’s close?”
“Are you kidding? I liked those burgers enough to eat two and then sleep with the fries.” Evie stood and slapped me on the ass. “Let’s go, White Knight.”
I cringed at the nickname, then quirked my head. “Do I want to know what you mean by sleeping with the fries?”
“No. No you don’t.” She grabbed my hand and dragged me out of the house.
After going through the drive thru at Mike’s and ordering our meals in separate bags—just in case—I drove us to Lookout Point, otherwise known as Make Out Central for the high school crowd. With stellar views and plenty of privacy, there’d been more than a few steamed out windows in the last twenty years. Thankfully, tonight, we were the only car on the ridge.
“Do you know what a big deal it is that I brought you here?” I asked as I put the Range Rover in park.
“First things first, bucko. Hand over the burgers.” Evie made grabby hands for the bag and the paper rustled as she dove in for a handful of fries. “Now that’s taken care of, please explain why it’s a big deal for me to be sitting in a parked car in the dark.”
I unbuckled my seatbelt and threw an arm over the back of my seat as I shifted to face her. The squeak of the leather caught her attention and she quirked her head in a question. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”
“This is called setting the mood, my muse.” I gestured out the darkened windows, the strong beams of the headlights stretching out in front of us, obscuring the true beauty of the view. “You don’t bring someone to Lookout Point if you don’t have serious intentions of making some moves. Everyone in Wildrose Landing knows this, and as our newest resident, it’s time you did, too.”
“I was already fairly clear you had serious move-making intentions before we left my house. I think your mention of a magic hooha said it all.”
“You’re not seeing my point.” I sighed dramatically. “I’ve only brought two people up here. Ever. Samantha English from high school. And now you. I’m making a serious declaration of intent.”
“Intent, huh?” Evie grinned, still clearly not seeing the magic of the moment.
“Prepare yourself.” I turned on the radio, the swoony, croony goodness of a playlist I built just for the moment filling the cabin, then turned off the headlights. The night sky came into view, every star imaginable visible in the velvet dark, with a crescent moon shining its silver light.
Evie gasped, the Mike’s bag forgotten in her lap as she craned her neck to see out the windshield. “Oh, Alex! It’s beautiful.”
“It pales in comparison to you.”
A smile pulled at the corners of her lips and she glanced at me. “That was…”
“Cheesy?”
She shook her head and shrugged as she settled back into her seat and gave me her full attention. “Wonderful.”
Her smile stoked my own and I rested my head against the headrest as my eyes wandered the splendor of the heavens. “Do you have a favorite author?” I rolled my head to meet her gaze. “Other than me of course.”
“Other than you, one of my favorites is pretty obscure. She only put out one book, but it was so poignantly written, I come back to it whenever I need to feel something, if that makes sense. Harlow West. I’m sure you haven’t heard of her.”
“Actually, I have. My agent used to work with Harlow’s sister-in-law. I’ve never met Mrs. West, but I am a fan of her work.”
Evie nodded, thoughtfully. “I should have known she wouldn’t be obscure to you.” She chewed on her bottom lip. “What’s your favorite movie?”
“That one’s easy. Harry and the Henderson’s.”
“Harry and the who? Definitely never heard of that one. Let me guess. Some dry documentary on Harry S. Truman.”
A laugh exploded past my lips. “You’re so far off, it’s ridiculous. Harry and the Henderson’s is a comedy from the eighties about a family who finds Bigfoot. He comes to live with them—” Evie dissolved into giggles and I raised my brows. “What? Why are you laughing at me?”
“This is so not the kind of movie I thought the great Alexander Prescott would list as his favorite. That’s all. But please, do go on.” She waved a hand for me to continue.
“It was one of my mom’s favorites, thank you very much. She made Izzy and I watch it so many times when we were kids, I can still recite the lines. And yes, I even tear up when things get bad and George Henderson has to make Harry—that’s what they call Bigfoot…”
“Obviously.” Evie shook her head, giggling into her lap.
“Anyway, as I was saying, the Hendersons have to make him leave for his own safety. George is so mean and Harry is so sad, but he finally goes back to the wilderness, thinking the family he’s come to love doesn’t want him anymore.”
“Heartbreaking.” Evie did not look the least bit heartbroken. “I feel so much closer to you now that I know this.”
“I feel like I’m being made fun of here and I’m not sure I deserve it. You didn’t see Bigfoot’s expression when George Henderson tried to force him to leave by punching him in the face. He was so confused. So upset, but it was even harder on George.”
“Lord and Master, Sir Alexander the Glorious has a soft spot for quirky eighties movies about Bigfoot. I am so much better for knowing this.” Evie’s laughter triggered my own.
The conversation moved on as we discussed everything from the best hamburgers—Mike’s, obviously—to childhood fears and traumas. The more Evie opened up to me, the more I realized what a gem she was. “Why are you looking at me like that?” she finally asked.
“That’s what I do when I find something special. I analyze it from all angles and try to distill it down to its essence so I can understand how it works.”
“And just what is my essence?”
“You’re a lake in the mountains, so serenely beautiful it takes your breath away, with unexpected depths and life teeming beneath the calm surface.”
Evie’s face softened as she unclicked her seatbelt and shifted, grabbing my collar and pulling me close. Her lips brushed mine, delicate and soft. “Ready to do our cute couple thing?”
Unable to resist her lips, I kissed her again, heat building between us. “I was born ready,” I finally said, then grimaced.
“Let me guess. That sounded better in your head.” She laughed, then slithered her way into the back. “Come on, lover boy. There’s a magic hooha that could use some attention.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Evie
Alex joined me in the backseat of the SUV, his long frame devouring the space. I leaned back, my head against the cool window as his lips found mine, hungry and heated. His tongue caressed my mouth, sweeping against my own as my hips lifted to his.
“Fuck, Evie.” Alex’s voice whispered past my ear as his stubble raked across the skin at my throat. His hand snaked under my shirt, gripping my waist and pulling me closer, as if even a hint of distance between us was too much.
His fingers worked the button on my jeans, the hiss of the zipper mingling with the hitch of my breath as he slid them past my hips. Kissing me long and deep, he spread my legs, then shifted in the tight space, lowering his face to my cleft. One long, slow lick had my eyes rolling closed, my hand pressing to the chilled window. “Alex…”
His name was an invitation, a declaration, the pleasure he brought me with just one touch more than I ever dreamed possible. As I writhed, he sucked my clit into his mouth, his finger slipping inside me, stretching me, warming me. The intensity of the sensation had me trying to crawl away from him.
“Relax fo
r me, Evie.” He blew a soft breath against my clit. “Let me show you how good you can feel.”
With one shuddering breath, I relaxed into him and the magic started once again. His fingers stroked while his mouth licked and sucked. My inner thighs grew wet and I panted his name. Over and over, again and again, a prayer, a lamentation, desperation and pleasure pulsing through me as my body responded to his.
“That’s right, baby. Come for me. Show me how good it feels.”
As if all I needed was his permission, sensation spiraled out of control. My body clenched and quivered and I gripped his curls in my fist, at once needing him to stop and never wanting it to end. When the bucking of my hips slowed, Alex lifted his face, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. His gaze pierced mine as he freed his cock, the hard length straining towards me as I wrapped my hand along the velvet shaft, swirling my thumb around the crown.
“Fuck me, Alex. I need you inside me.”
With little preamble, he slipped on a condom and pressed himself against my entrance. I hissed a breath as he entered. With the first orgasm having barely receded, pleasure zoomed back through me, calling another to life as his pelvic bone met mine. A sharp thrust elicited a cry from me and a groan from him and then he was off and moving. My hips lifted to meet him as he braced himself on the window, condensation fogging the glass and dripping away from his heat. It was pleasure and pain, fire and ice, intensity layered upon intensity and I found myself muttering obscenities as my body succumbed to his.
Never before had it felt like this.
So right. So real. So…everything.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Evie
Snow started falling the first week in December, transforming my front yard into a glistening field of white, with a path of footprints connecting my door to Alex’s. His fingers had been glued to his keyboard nonstop since the writer’s block lifted. He’d surface for sex and most meals, then dive back into work. I took over caring for Morgan and Larry and occasionally reminding him to eat. Gone were the days of walking the beach. Gone were the dinners at Overton’s. I had a few magnificent hours with Alex in the morning while we went over my notes on his new pages, but then he was pretty much gone, too.