Crazy for You

by Rachel Lacey

  “Maybe.” Emma resisted the urge to twirl in front of the mirror the way Gabby had. Because she wasn’t getting married, and this was craziness.

  “We’ll come back here and pick out a whole room full of dresses for you to try on just like I did today,” Gabby said. “But I bet this is the one.”

  Emma let herself fantasize for a moment about the vision Gabby had put in her head, of her walking down the aisle in this dress. Of Ryan waiting for her at the other end, looking so dashing in a tux…She was so busy daydreaming she didn’t even notice Gabby holding up her cell phone until it was too late.

  Click.

  “I said no pictures!” Emma felt her cheeks flush hot.

  “But we need to be able to remember which dress it was,” Gabby said with a shrug and a grin, leaning over to take a picture of the tag. She straightened and snapped several more pictures of Emma in the dress before she could stop her.

  “You could have just written it down!” Emma scrambled out of the dress and hung it up before Gabby got any more carried away.

  “What fun would that be?” Gabby said, not even trying to hide the smug look on her face. “Okay, lunch. And then to the spa.”

  Two hours later—after a sushi lunch and hot stone massages—Emma and Gabby lay soaking side by side in tubs fed by Haven’s famous natural hot springs. Emma sank lower in the water, letting it work out any last kinks in her muscles.

  “So great,” she said, eyes closed and totally blissed out.

  “Mm-hmm,” Gabby said from beside her. “I do this about once a month.”

  “Really?”

  “Yep. It sure has been good for my soul.”

  Legend said that the natural minerals in Haven’s hot springs could calm your soul. Emma’s soul didn’t generally need calming, but these last few months were a different story. She’d been tied up in knots ever since the night Ryan had given her a ride home from The Drunken Bear. The night her friends had dared her to shake things up, and boy had she ever.

  * * *

  Spring in Haven segued into summer in a frantic rush. Artful Blooms always saw a surge in business once the weather warmed up, and although Lucas and Mary would be retiring in just a few months, business hadn’t yet started to taper off. The memorial had been installed last week, and Emma spent most mornings working on the gardens that would surround it. It would officially be unveiled on July first, just over two weeks away.

  She’d barely seen Ryan this week either; he was so busy at Off-the-Grid. Busy was good, though, for both of them. Busy kept her mind off things, including the fact that she’d put a deposit on an apartment outside Atlanta last week. Leaving Haven felt so bittersweet, but she was a believer that everything happened for a reason. Hopefully, in this case, it meant big things were waiting for her in Georgia.

  As for Ryan? He couldn’t leave Haven, not now that he had Off-the-Grid here. She’d be more than willing to try a long-distance relationship, but only if he was ready to make a commitment. She wasn’t going to let him rip her heart slowly to shreds by coming home to Haven over school vacations so that they could have casual sex.

  Nope. She needed a commitment or a clean break.

  She sank her hands into the warm earth, pressing into place one of the many dazzling red poppies she’d selected for the memorial gardens. She scooped fresh potting soil over the roots and sat back, dirty hands on her knees. She still had dozens of poppies to go, but already she could see her vision starting to unfold, and it was perfect.

  “It’s going to be amazing,” Ryan said from behind her.

  She looked over her shoulder, surprised to see him standing there, hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans. “What are you doing here?”

  “Saw you as I was driving home. Thought I’d stop by and see how the memorial was coming along.”

  “It’ll be finished this week.”

  He came to stand beside her. “These red flowers remind me of your tattoo.”

  “They’re the same. Red poppies.”

  “You told me they represent fallen troops.”

  “Yes.” She touched the flower she’d just finished planting. “Derek’s birthday is next week. I haven’t been to visit him in a while. Thought I might go.”

  “His grave?”

  She nodded. She visited Arlington National Cemetery every few years. It was a special honor that he was buried there, but sometimes she wished he were here in Haven, beside their mom, where she could visit him more often. Of course, that wouldn’t matter soon anyway…

  “I haven’t been in a while either,” Ryan said. “Mind if I tag along?”

  “I’d like that.” She stood and let him pull her into his arms. “I know he would, too.”

  Ryan’s brows furrowed, but he didn’t say anything.

  Stubborn man. “He would. You know that, right?”

  * * *

  No, Ryan wasn’t so sure about that at all. He had a good idea Derek might turn over in his grave if he caught Ryan and Emma fooling around together in DC. But it had been too long since he’d visited his friend’s grave. He could clear his schedule at Off-the-Grid for a few days next week and go with Emma. He owed his old buddy that.

  “You got plans tonight?” he asked.

  Emma nodded. “Girls’ night.”

  “In that case, I’ll see if I can convince Trent to stay home from the club and hang out with his boring big brother.” He cracked a grin.

  She laughed. “Who’d have thought anyone would ever call you boring?”

  “Not me.”

  “You’re settling down,” she said.

  It’s what he’d come home to Haven for. He’d wanted to leave his nomadic, hell-raising lifestyle behind. But to hear Emma say it? While she was looking at him with those big, blue eyes that seemed to see right into his soul? He had the sudden, irrational need to take off on his bike, go in some seedy bar somewhere for a cheap beer and…no. Even in his imagination, he couldn’t fathom picking up some random chick and sleeping with her the way he used to. “I’m the same guy, Emma.”

  “Just with a pickup truck so you can take your brother out for burgers, a business that’s one-third yours, and the first girl you’ve ever dated long enough to call her your girlfriend.” She tipped her face up to his, still smiling, but there was an edge to her words.

  An edge that sliced deep into his chest. “That sounds awfully—”

  “Domesticated? It’s okay, Ryan. Your secret is safe with me.”

  “I—”

  “Sh.” She pressed a finger to his lips. “Don’t say anything stupid right now to ruin the moment, okay? I promise I’m not fishing for anything more from you. I’m leaving town in a few weeks anyway.”

  “I wish you weren’t.” The words just slipped out, and he immediately wanted to take them back. “But I mean, I’m glad, too. You’re chasing your own dreams for once, and I’m so happy that you are. It’s just…I’ll miss you.”

  “Me, too.” Something incredibly sad slipped across her features. “It doesn’t have to be good-bye, though.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “I’m saying we’ll talk more when the time comes.” Her gaze never wavered from his. “But in the meantime, think about what you want. Really think, Ryan.”

  And without elaborating, she dropped to her knees in front of the memorial to resume planting flowers.

  Rather than ask what she meant—because he wasn’t sure he wanted to know—he took a step back. “Let me know about next week, and I’ll shift my schedule around.”

  “Okay. Bye, Ryan.”

  “Bye.” He strode across the commons and down Main Street, not slowing until he’d reached his front door.

  “Someone chasing you?” Trent asked with a smirk, leaning over the railing from the second floor.

  He dodged Trent’s question with his own. “You looking for me?”

  “Yeah.” Trent waved some papers at him. “I did that ancestry test you suggested, and I just got the results bac
k.”

  Ryan gestured for him to come in. “So what’s the verdict?”

  Trent bounded down the stairs and followed him into his condo. “I’m half Korean.”

  “Just as you suspected.” Ryan smiled as he went to the fridge for a couple of Cokes. He tossed a can to his brother. “Feel good to know for sure?”

  Trent nodded, popping open the can. “It really does. I’ve been looking for Korean communities around here but haven’t found any yet. I’d like to get to know more about my culture.”

  “That’s great. Modern science rocks, doesn’t it?”

  “Yeah. There’s a pretty big Asian community back home,” Trent said, looking down at his soda.

  “You given more thought to re-enrolling at Missouri College?”

  Trent shrugged.

  “You know I love having you here. I want you to stay. But I also want you to go back to college. Don’t waste the opportunity to get an education.”

  “When I’m ready.” Trent squashed the empty soda can between his fingers. “I have an opportunity here, too, that I don’t want to waste. I’m spinning tunes once a week. That’s a pretty big deal at my age.”

  Ryan drew a deep breath. “Yeah, it is. And I’m so friggin’ proud of you. I am.”

  “Don’t worry, bro,” Trent said, and Ryan’s chest tightened at the endearment. He used it often with Mark and Ethan, but on his actual brother’s lips…Well, it was pretty fucking amazing.

  “I’m young.” Trent tossed his can in the trash and headed for the door. “I’ve got time. I’ll figure it all out eventually.”

  He would figure it out. Ryan was sure of it. Trent was motivated and hardworking, in the areas that interested him anyway. Passion like that, it took people places. The real question was…would Ryan figure his own shit out? Because Emma was leaving town in a few short weeks. Trent would have to go back to Missouri soon, too. Ryan was losing his newfound family, and he had no idea what to do about it.

  “Hey, you want to stick around?” Ryan asked. “Maybe order a pizza, watch the game?”

  “Um.” Trent stopped by the door, indecision written all over his face. “Yeah, okay. Sure.”

  “Great.” Ryan had no clue what to do about the future, but right now, he was going to keep his family close and, like Trent, hope he’d figure the rest out eventually.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Emma and Ryan arrived in Washington DC a little after four o’clock on Tuesday, the day before Derek’s birthday. The six-hour ride had left them both restless so, after checking into their hotel, they went for a walk around the National Mall to stretch their legs.

  “I remember coming here on an eighth grade class trip,” she said, glancing over at the Smithsonian Air and Space Museum as they walked past. “It was my first time in Washington DC, and I was so friggin’ bored the whole time.”

  “Terrible age to take kids on a trip like that, really,” Ryan said with a smile.

  “Seriously. All anyone cared about was going to Busch Gardens on the last day.”

  “I cut school the whole week, and no one even noticed,” he said.

  “You didn’t go to DC?”

  “At fourteen, I was much more interested in securing contraband beer and cutting class than learning how our government works.”

  And probably he’d had no one to pay for the trip for him, Emma realized with a twinge of regret. She remembered that her mother had had to take a payment plan from the school system to send her and her brother, but she wouldn’t hear of letting them miss out on the trip. “So have you been here other than for Derek’s funeral?”

  He nodded. “Came back a few years later to pay my respects when I was passing through, looking for work.”

  “So you’ve never really played tourist here?”

  He gave her a mock-serious look. “Playing tourist is not really my thing.”

  She nudged her shoulder against his. “Cut it out. We’ve got to hit a few of the landmarks while we’re here. And”—she glanced back at the museum they had just passed—“we’ve got to go into the Air and Space Museum.”

  “Museums aren’t my style, Em,” he said, but there was a twinkle in his eye.

  “It’s free, and it’s really cool. Come on.” She led the way toward the entrance. Thirty minutes later, Ryan had discovered the flight simulators and dragged her inside the “fighter jet,” which actually turned a full three hundred and sixty degrees when you flipped the plane.

  Emma shrieked as he flipped them upside down. Her feet hung suspended in front of her, her hair dangling above her head. Ryan was laughing like a kid as he fired at the enemy plane on the simulation screen in front of them without making any attempt to right their plane.

  Finally, she reached over and grabbed his control, swinging them out of their barrel roll.

  “You’re no fun,” he said with a smile.

  “I’m lots of fun, but whoa…head rush.”

  They rode in the flight simulator four times, until Emma begged for mercy. After they left the Smithsonian, they walked by the Capitol Building then went in search of dinner. They ended up at a little hole in the wall Chinese restaurant that served some of the best kung pao chicken she’d ever tasted.

  “Okay, you’re right. Being a tourist is fun sometimes,” Ryan said as he popped half of a fortune cookie in his mouth.

  “If it involves hanging upside down in a flight simulator?” she asked with a giggle.

  He shrugged. “Always wanted to fly a plane.”

  “Not sure I’d let you fly me anywhere in a real plane.”

  “Yo, watch it.” He pointed his fork at her, then winked. “You’ll pay for that later.”

  She smiled, then sobered. “I’m glad you came with me for this.”

  His smile faded, too. “So am I.”

  * * *

  Ryan woke to near darkness in the hotel room, but the clock on the table beside the bed said it was a few minutes past eight. Sunlight illuminated the edges of the thick curtains covering the window. Emma slept beside him, naked beneath the covers, her legs entwined with his. He hooked an arm around her waist, drawing her closer.

  She murmured in her sleep, pressing her ass against his cock. Torture.

  But she looked so peaceful that he wasn’t about to disturb her. Instead, he closed his eyes and fantasized about all the things he wanted to do when she woke up. Somewhere after taking her against the wall beneath a scorching hot shower, he must have dozed off because, the next thing he knew, he jerked awake. The clock read nine fifteen.

  Emma’s hips moved restlessly against his, and she whimpered in her sleep. His cock was painfully hard, as if he’d done nothing but dream about sex for the past hour, which was probably true.

  If he wasn’t mistaken, she was dreaming about sex, too. She moaned, her hips occasionally bucking against the sheets. With a sigh, she rolled to face him. Her eyes were closed, her body draped against his. She kept moving, still lost in her sex dream and rocking against him until, with a cry, she went still. And her eyes popped open.

  “Mornin’,” he said, his voice deep with sleep and arousal.

  “What in the…” Her blue eyes were wide, her cheeks flushed.

  “Did you just come in your sleep, sweetheart?”

  She sucked in a breath then laughed. “I think I did. And I think you helped.”

  “I’d say I was more of a spectator,” he said with a laugh of his own.

  Her cheeks turned pink. “That’s maybe a little embarrassing.”

  “Are you kidding? It was sexy as hell.”

  She reached down and wrapped her fingers around his aching cock. “Maybe I can return the favor?”

  “I wouldn’t say no to that offer.” He closed his eyes, unable to contain a groan as she slid her hands up and down his cock. She kept her movements painfully slow at first, and he fisted his hands in the sheets, desperate for more. He pumped his hips against her, increasing the pace, too far gone to hold back.

  She tigh
tened her grip and stroked faster, harder, until all he could feel was the friction of her skin on his and the need rising like a tidal wave inside him. He swore as he broke, coming in several hot spurts against her belly.

  “Fuck.” He clutched her against him, his body still tingling with aftershocks.

  “Not a bad way to wake up,” she said softly.

  “Not bad at all.”

  They finally made it out of bed—where he indeed took her against the wall in the shower—then dressed and headed out for food and some more sightseeing before they visited Arlington National Cemetery.

  They got bagels and coffee and walked past the White House, the Washington Monument, and the Lincoln Memorial. Despite his usual dislike of sightseeing, he had to admit this was pretty cool. So much history here. And really, the truth was, he seemed to enjoy anything if Emma was at his side.

  They had a late lunch at an outdoor café then found a flower shop where Emma picked out an arrangement to bring to Derek’s grave. Their festive mood had sobered somewhat by the time they hopped on the Metro, which took them under the Potomac River to the cemetery.

  Emma didn’t stop at the welcome center for a map. Instead, she struck out down the network of paths and roads through the cemetery by memory. The sheer size of the cemetery was humbling. Row after row after row of fallen service members, as far as he could see in every direction.

  Large trees grew amid the tombstones, and the green grass beneath their feet was meticulously tended. Birds called overhead. Along the edges of the field, flowers bloomed brightly. It was reassuring, somehow, to see nature so alive here, a visual reminder that life went on, even in the face of such enormous loss.

  Emma slid her hand into his and squeezed. She had on a blue sundress, which had seemed fun and flirty while they were playing tourist but took on a more somber look now. She led him down a row of graves and stopped before the white tombstone bearing Derek’s name. She bent to place the flowers in front of it. He hooked an arm around her shoulders as they stood together in front of Derek’s grave.

  He had such a vivid memory of standing beside her like this ten years ago at the funeral. She’d been so stoic that day in a black dress meant for someone much older than her seventeen years, refusing to let her tears fall until after the crowd had left. It had been just the two of them then, too. She’d sobbed on his shoulder, and he’d promised he would always be there for her.