On our flight to Europe, we both agreed that neither of us saw marriage in our future. We both know that we’ve found the one person that completes us and we don’t need a certificate to show it. Instead, we’ve agreed to focus on living in the moment, loving as much as we can, and never wasting a second together. Despite our vows of living in unwedded bliss together for the rest of our lives, the topic of children has never been broached, which isn’t too shocking considering we’ve only known each other four months. I’ve never even thought about kids, but I’m not opposed to the idea.
Smitty’s mouth finds mine and I rub harder against his excited manhood. He moans in my mouth and I lift up my hips, using my hand to guide him. He easily glides deep inside and I lean back, hands on his thighs, letting out a purr of desire myself.
His hands find my breasts and he squeezes them tightly. “Let me put on a condom, babe.”
I lean up and look in his eyes. “What if you didn’t?”
His eyebrows dash to the top of his forehead. “Seriously?”
I shrug. “It was just an idea,” I mumble, embarrassed and having received Smitty’s answer to whether or not he wants children.
Smitty takes my hands and pulls them to his chest, making my head tilt forward and look him in the eyes. “Sloan Talbott, you’re my favorite what if,” he says and begins rocking his hips gently. I grin as I lean forward and let my lips graze his. I can’t imagine life without this man.
Holding him against me so that our chests touch, I use my index finger to write on his shoulder: Y-E-S. He looks up at me with a cocked eyebrow.
“Yes, I want kids, but more than anything I want you.”
His hips pick up speed and he kisses me passionately. “I’m all yours, baby.”
Relay For Love
Susan Ann Wall
Copyright © 2015 by:
Susan Ann Wall
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.
Cover Images:
Foreground: © Yuri Arcurs | Dreamstime.com. Background: © Susan Ann Wall
Design Susan Ann Wall, LLC
Edited by Mary Ann Jock
This book was built at IndieWrites.com. Visit us on Facebook.
Acknowlegments
In memory of my dad, Raymond Pineo, who lost his battle with cancer in 2007.
This story is for all of those out there who have lost someone they love to cancer.
And for all the Relayers out there who continue to Celebrate, Remember, and Fight Back!
I’d like to thank my fellow Relayers and North Country Committee members for their continued inspiration in the battle against cancer. I’d also like to acknowledge the American Cancer Society for the resources they provide to cancer patients and caregivers. The resources mentioned in the book, particularly the Cancer Resource Network (1-800-ACS-2345) and www.cancer.org) are real and accurate (at the time of publication) and I encourage everyone who is faced with cancer to use the resources provided by the ACS. I also encourage you all to find a local Relay For Life event in your community and join the fight! Together, we can help find a cure for this terrible disease in our lifetime!
Mostly, I want to thank my husband for not just supporting this little writing obsession of mine, but also for encouraging my pursuit.
To find a Relay For Life event in your area, visit www.relayforlife.org.
Praise and Awards
Kindle Top 100 Bestselling Author
“… such a great summer read ... I love a book that can have me laughing on one page and crying on the next ...”
~ Amazon 5-star review
“I am not even half way through this book and having a hard time putting it down! Amazing story with characters you can relate to and understand. I will be reading more from this author.”
~ Amazon 5-star review
“Cancer is always a tough subject to write about, but Susan Wall does a wonderful job in Relay For Love … I thoroughly enjoyed this book and the characters’ stories and recommend it highly.”
~ Author Peggy Jaeger of the MacQuire Women Series
Chapter 1
Hannah Locke had a simple formula for happiness. Be a loving yet firm mother. Give one hundred percent at work. Talk to her best friend every day. Always check before leaving the bathroom to make sure her skirt wasn’t tucked into her panties. Do what she can to fight back against cancer. Never again fall in love.
The formula had been working for about five years. She knew it well and found it easy to live by, but that formula was blown away the moment Aaron Hawkins gazed over the top of his camera and locked eyes with her.
“Alright ladies, I’m going to take a few shots, so hold that pose.”
Hannah brushed the rogue strands of her tawny hair from her face and held her pose on the back of her late husband Steven’s motorcycle. Tabitha, straddled the bike in front of her. There wasn’t much of a risk of Tabs falling off, but Hannah held her daughter tight, needing the support to keep the windfall of emotions racing through her in check.
Steven’s mother, Donna, and sister, Malinda, flanked her and Tabs, their light embraces providing additional shelter from the emotional storm. The scene was so familiar. Hannah depended on these women, her family, and not just as a shelter when she most needed it. This was the family who helped keep Steven’s eternal love burning in her heart like a lone candle with an endless wick.
The shutter sounded like a semi-automatic gun, but that wasn’t what had Hannah so unsettled. When the barrage stopped, the reporter’s gaze held her like a hunter’s prey, stirring something inside that had been dormant for so long she almost didn’t recognize it. Hannah had forced those stirrings into what was supposed to be a permanent hibernation after Steven died, because that was part of her simple formula.
The reporter, Aaron, scanned through the shots he just snapped, as focused with those dark eyes as he’d been on her just moments ago. Maybe that was his natural expression. Too many paranormal romances for her evening reading were obviously feeding Hannah’s overactive imagination and making her see a wild hunger in his stare that most likely didn’t exist.
The buzz of preparations sounded like a distant party. Hannah heard voices, but not conversations. Cool air shifted around her, but she wasn’t sure if it was the breeze or the flurry of arrangements going on under the big tent. Her normally acute peripheral vision wasn’t even working because her attention was completely focused on the reporter and the way he wasn’t looking at her.
He was probably just being thorough, ensuring he had a couple clear photos to work with, but Hannah couldn’t help feel he was avoiding her. Maybe it was because she was staring at him. Maybe she should stop.
A smile stretched across his face, his strong jaw giving way to a boyish innocence. The cleft in his chin that had been barely visible became a playful dimple, begging to be kissed. Just like the full lips that curved within a not even close to five o’clock shadow. Oh my gosh, was she really thinking about kissing this man? This stranger?
“That’s great, ladies. Thank you,” Aaron said, excusing them from their held pose around the deep blue Heritage Softail Deluxe. His voice was a distant drone, those full lips moving in slow motion as she watched him talk to Malinda, but barely understood the syllables he uttered.
“So Mommy, can I go play now?” Tabitha asked. Just like the wails of a crying baby, her daughter’s voice snapped Hannah out of the trance, for which she was grateful. Longing for the stare of a sexy stranger didn’t really bode well with the logic of her simple formula.
Hannah released Tabitha from the confines of her overly-tight embrace and held the bike steady as her daughter climbed down. When Tabs had cleared the bike, Hannah pulled her close once more. “Not before you give me a big smoocheroo.”
Tabs puckered up and gave Hannah a smooch, wiggling around in the loving and playful way that always fill
ed Hannah’s heart. How lost she’d be without her little miracle.
“I love you, Mommy,” Tabs called, running ran across the yard to the sandpit where all the other kids played. Hannah’s smiled faded when she caught a glimpse of the sexy reporter and became very aware that she was being watched, the gaze of those brown eyes burning into her, once again igniting that dormant stirring.
Trying to ignore Aaron and the heat his stare inspired, Hannah lingered on the bike, not ready to leave the security and peace it offered. She loved Steven’s motorcycle, could almost feel Steven sitting in front of her, her legs pressed into his, her hands holding tight around his waist. She could almost smell him, his natural scent mixed with the Tim McGraw cologne he wore solely because she loved it. There was no almost about missing him, though. Hannah missed him so much the pieces of her shattered heart cut into her like a fresh wound.
Shifting her attention back to Tabs, Hannah became absorbed in her own thoughts and memories of Steven. He would have been right there in the sandbox, his knees dirty, engineering an extravagant sand castle. He would have rigged up the hose to keep an adequate supply of water to construct a fortress like no other. He would have had all the kids involved and at some point would have ended up at the bottom of a pig pile, having the time of his life. They’d be happy, but most of all, Hannah’s heart wouldn’t be shattered into pieces so small they could be the sand that filled that box.
As tears pooled, she snapped out of the trip down memory lane or return from Fantasy Island, as it were, since none of that had ever actually happened. It was time to get her head in the game. She was going to have to ride this motorcycle. Solo. For about a hundred miles. Memories of a future she would never have weren’t welcome.
Help with barbeque set up, that’s what Hannah could do to keep herself busy until it was time to head out for the ride. As she dismounted the bike, trying not to think about Steven, she was still consciously aware those sexy brown eyes were on her.
The reporter her sister-in-law had asked to cover their annual fundraising event was an enticing combination of goody guy, bad boy. Those dark eyes, swathed in thick dark lashes were mesmerizing. That strong jaw and subtle cleft had an innocent appeal completely contrasted by the Harley t-shirt and biker leathers he sported on his six-foot tall body, a body that could only be described with one word: Wow! He obviously took good care of himself given the way he filled out the t-shirt and leathers. All those good looks didn’t mean his stare or the way it sparked all her nerve endings was welcome, though.
Hannah needed a cool breeze, but apparently, Mother Nature wasn’t accepting requests. There was a mild breeze in the air, however, with the sun beating down from a practically cloudless sky, and the heat of that stare, Hannah’s core temperature spiked to volcanic proportions. It was early May, so the air wasn’t that warm, meaning the source of the hot flash was one-hundred percent Aaron Hawkins.
It was time to move on, help with the cookout. She kicked a leg over to dismount the steel horse, but the bootlace must have caught on the pedal because her leg wasn’t going anywhere. That would have been fine except her momentum caused the other clumsy foot to skid across the gravel. Down she went, ambling off the Hog, dangling like a charm off a bracelet.
The hysteria of her own laughter mostly drowned out the sound of the footfalls speeding across the gravel. Butterflies fluttered between the cramps that danced across her gut and the dull ache of the awkward dangle. Did those butterflies signal hope or fear? Surely, Aaron Hawkins was coming to her rescue because he’d been watching her. Given how her body still burned, she decided butterflies weren’t a good sign.
“Are you alright?” The tenor was familiar beneath her melodic hysteria. That’s what the near-baritone voice of the reporter would sound like when rescuing prey from a trap he hadn’t set but definitely caused with that damn stare of his. The dangle she was trapped in prevented her from seeing him, but she soon heard him laughing along with her. It was with her. He seemed too polite to be laughing at her. Then again, laughing at her might be better. If so, she could stop being pulled in by that gaze and get back to her simple formula.
Hannah wanted to tell him she was ok and didn’t need any of his sexy help, but she just couldn’t get the hysterical laughing to taper off. It was like she was a musical charm that had been wound so tight, she’d be unraveling for infinity.
“Do you need help?” The near-baritone was back, and another melody of footfalls joined the orchestra.
“What’s going on, Palindrome? Fall off your bike again?” Malinda asked as Hannah continued to dangle.
“Again?” That deep sexy voice chimed in as the rescue effort got underway and Aaron lifted her from the awkward position.
Well, there it was. Boy, if Malinda hadn’t been her best friend since the beginning of time, Hannah might disown her for revealing that little bit of information – but you couldn’t choose your soul mates.
Hannah remembered the last time she’d taken a tumble off the bike. And the time before that. And, oh yeah, that other time, too. At least she always did it when the bike was parked, so the only injury she suffered was a bruised ego.
The sexy reporter struggled to get her upright. First, he tried just using the strength in those sculpted-arms. Hannah was neither tall nor short and not petite by any standards, but good genes on her mother’s side and an affection for vegetables kept her physique curvy in all the good ways. Hannah’s weight had always been within acceptable measures based on the chart that hung on the wall at the doctor’s office. Her current awkward position, however, wasn’t going to take pure brute strength to get her properly positioned back on the seat. Nope, he was going to need some leverage. And how was he going to …
The press of his body answered the question before it even finished forming. Hannah’s body temperature spiked again, the friction of obviously toned muscles hidden behind the Harley t-shirt a welcome contact – at least her body thought so. Hannah’s mind was caught in a tornado of emotions, the obvious desire clamoring to touch him more, countered by the logical, I-Have-A-Formula side screaming for her to snap out of it! Hannah seemed to have grown tone deaf though, because the screaming was more of a muted whine she wasn’t able to buy into.
As Aaron got her upright on the Harley, she was a little annoyed that Malinda elaborated on the “Again” question he had asked.
“She kind of has a habit of doing this,” Malinda explained, looking a little too happy to be sharing this information. Turning to Hannah, the smile turned to that look. They’d been friends practically since birth. Malinda was the only one who could say “I told you so” to Hannah and live to tell the tale. She also didn’t even have to speak to say it. Hannah wanted to karate chop Malinda’s hands off her full hips. Unfortunately she didn’t have any karate moves in her repertoire. Too bad.
“I keep telling her to get zip boots instead of laces, but she won’t listen,” Malinda finished.
“You can shut up now, L,” Hannah muttered. That was the best she could come up with to get Malinda to stop revealing her deep, dark secrets. Her mind wasn’t really working very well, not while Aaron had his hands on her and his body still pressed into hers.
While Hannah’s desire reveled in the fact that Aaron’s touch might be lingering longer than necessary, logic dictated he needed to step away. When he finally did, it had no effect on her core body temperature. She settled back on the bike, pleasantly surprised when he went around to the other side and untangled the bootlace from the pedal. When Hannah maneuvered off the bike, Aaron took her arm, guiding her to solid ground.
“Thank you,” she whispered, cheeks burning – whether from the blush of embarrassment or the flash of desire, she couldn’t be sure.
Still recovering from the fit of laughter – and all the touching, Hannah focused on taking slow, deep breaths.
“So, Hannah, I was wondering if I could ask you a couple questions. For the article,” he said as he repositioned the camera slung across
his broad chest.
A bee circled her head once, twice, three…oh, for crying out loud. She ducked and swatted, hoping it would take the hint in lieu of stinging her. “I thought you already interviewed Malinda and Donna,” she said as the bee buzzed across the driveway to the throng of peonies preparing for their late-spring bloom. “I’m not sure what more I can add.”
She welcomed the return of her logic, which overpowered the desire burning a little hotter than she wanted to be comfortable with.
“A different perspective,” the reporter said, moving closer than he needed to be, but Hannah wasn’t about to object. “Readers will be interested in the wife’s story.”
Despite the disappointment lodged in her chest, Hannah couldn’t argue. He was here to write a story about the event, which meant he needed information about Steven’s experience with cancer. Plus, he sounded so professional. That logic fit into Hannah’s formula. She could indulge him a few questions, and maybe that would alleviate this other feeling that kept rearing its ugly head.
When she nodded, Aaron touched her arm again, leading the way to a nearby picnic table. He was a gentleman, plain and simple. The touch meant nothing more. Hannah hoped the shade the tent provided from the mid-day sun would help ease the fever she couldn’t seem to shake.
He was so handsome, the green of spring’s new life providing a lush backdrop from the hill behind him. The way the shade darkened his skin made him seem more bad boy than he had appeared under the bright sunlight, so maybe handsome wasn’t the right word. Sexy? Yeah, that was it. He looked sexy.
Book Boyfriends Cafe Summer Lovin' Anthology 2015 Page 214