by Jillian Neal
When the waitress returned with their wine and bread, they ordered. Suddenly very anxious to learn everything she could about John Rowan, she leapt back into the conversation with more interest now that they weren’t discussing her family or legal issues.
“Do you have any brothers and sisters?”
He shook his head. “Nah, it was just me and my mom growing up. I have a few stepbrothers and a half-sister, but I don’t really know them.”
He tried to cover a note of pain when he explained his family dynamic. Arley sensed that she shouldn’t push, but she wondered what his childhood had been like. She smiled. “This is probably terrible. I swear I’m not an evil person or anything, but sometimes I used to wish that my mom would take my two sisters and go live with one of my aunts, so it would just be me and my dad.”
She’d never admitted that to anyone, and couldn’t believe the ease at which she’d just confessed it to him. “I’ve never said that out loud. I don’t know why I keep telling you my deep, dark secrets.” Her cheeks took on the color of her strawberry blonde hair.
His sexy chuckle eased her trepidation. “I like deep and dark, but if I get the chance to meet any of your relatives, I swear I will never tell anyone about that.”
“Thank you!” She hadn’t laughed at all in the last six weeks, and he’d successfully made her smile and laugh without end. “I’m sure you’ll get to meet some of them at the will hearing thing.” That realization robbed her of her earlier laughter.
“I have a lawyer friend that lives in Tuscaloosa that will have to file the transfer for me, but the will hearing I can handle with no problem. I do want to talk to a few literary lawyers up in New York before I take on your publishers, though. That’s not my field, per se. I don’t think it will be difficult, but I want to make sure you win. I want to cover all of my bases so to speak.”
“So, you handle a lot of wills and crazy family stuff then?”
John smirked. “You hoping your relatives won’t be the craziest I’ve ever encountered?”
“Yes!” She laughed again. It was a sound he was quickly becoming addicted to hearing.
“Well, trust me, you have nothing to worry about. I’ve seen it all. I handle mostly divorces, but I’ve seen my fair share of will and inheritance insanity. Once, I negotiated a bi-weekly custody situation for a ferret and a parakeet that couldn’t stand each other. That’s why the couple was divorcing—so that the pets could live in separate abodes. I’m doubting your family holds a candle to that.”
Arley dissolved in another round of laughter over his story, but the prickly edges of the term divorce attorney seemed to pinhole her stomach. Certainly she knew that people got divorced. Heck, she’d written her fair share of second chance romances involving divorcees, but she just didn’t care for the concept that love somehow ended. She preferred to believe that true love had a happy ending always. Don’t be stupid, Arley. This is real life, not one of your novels.
She distracted herself from his career by watching him cut into his steak. The way his substantial hands tensed when he made methodic work of the meat eased her tension and made her wonder what it would feel like to experience the warmth of his hands on her body.
She wound the long ribbons of pasta covered in a delectable cream sauce up on her fork and speared a scallop on the end before bringing the heavenly mixture to her mouth. A slight moan escaped without her permission. The food and the company somehow fed not just her stomach, but her soul. It had been so long since she’d had anything so delicious.
When she opened her eyes, John was watching her with a decidedly hungry gaze that made her entire body quiver in need. It had been entirely too long since she’d been in bed with anything other than her favorite vibrator. As Chase had never successfully gotten her to orgasm, that made it nearly two years since she’d been satisfied by an actual human being. And never, in her entire life, had someone looked at her like he’d gladly walk away from his rare steak and devour her instead.
“Uh …” her voice shook. His admiring gaze never faltered. “So … uh … law. Lawyer. I mean, how did you decide you wanted to be a lawyer?” Wow, Arley, that was brilliant. Have you ever had a conversation before? She tried to shake off her inward mocking. “I mean, how did you decide you wanted to go into family law?” She couldn’t quite bring herself to call him a divorce attorney.
She watched his Adams apple contract as he wiped his mouth. Debate set in his eyes and his lean muscles contracted in a quick tense. With a quick inhalation, he seemed to decide to go on with his story.
She’s basically laid everything out on the line for you. You might as well tell her. John didn’t really care to dissect the reasons he did anything that he did, but for some reason he wanted to tell her. “Honestly, it was what I said about my mom and me. My dad walked out when I was maybe four or five. He moved to Mobile with his mistress and very conveniently hid any money he ever made. He left her, and she had nothing. She used to work three jobs trying to keep our rent paid and keep me fed. I guess I wanted to stop shit like that from happening. I definitely grew up on the wrong side of the tracks. That’s all we could afford. He ran a motel in Mobile in his girlfriend’s name and funneled all of the money to her. He didn’t marry her until I turned eighteen, so the income never showed up as his.
“Mom didn’t have the money or the knowledge of how to force him to prove any of that. He was, quote unquote, unemployed, and therefore she got nothing.” The hatred shuddered through his body. “When I graduated and got hired on at the firm where I work, I saved everything I made, bought my mom a house and paid for her to go Georgia State. She wants to be a teacher. She’s student teaching this year and should have a job by December. She’s gonna graduate top of her class.”
The pride in his tone and the broad grin that had masked the disdain previously etched his face made Arley’s heart swell. “That’s terrible. I’m so sorry, but that’s such a fantastic thing that you did for her.”
He scoffed. “She did everything for me, so that was the least I could do.”
“You’re really completely amazing. Do you know that?” She couldn’t help but gush. He was truly an amazing human being.
“Definitely not amazing, but I do love my mama.”
Arley beamed at him, soothing the bitter ache that discussing his sperm donor always brought on.
“So, tell me, what does Arley Copeland, soon-to-be famous author, like to read?”
She rolled her eyes at what she considered hyperbole, but John knew she was going to be a success. He wouldn’t stop until she was. “Well, I obviously read a lot of romance. Every book you read makes you a better writer. That’s what Daddy always told me, anyway. And I love the happy endings. I want the characters to end up with a happy life at the end. I’m pretty sure that’s what I love most about my genre. But I read classics, too. Nin and Miller are my favorites, just like you said. I’ve read Pride and Prejudice about a thousand times. I love Collette’s descriptions, even if her works occasionally don’t go anywhere.” She wrinkled her tiny adorable nose, and John chuckled. The sudden feeling that he never wanted this conversation to end should have frightened him more than it did.
“Hey, I’m sorry I keep going back to this. Honestly, the only thing I seem capable of thinking about is kissing you. I’m trying to distract myself with work so you can at least finish your meal.” His confession was riddled with need and buffered shame. The combination was intoxicating.
“I think I’d really like the kissing thing, but if you want to talk about work, it’s okay.” The fevered heat settled in her pale cheeks once again.
Another sly grin accompanied his devastatingly sexy wink. “Don’t worry, baby doll. I plan to get to the kissing soon enough. I don’t have that much restraint. I was just wondering if you have any letters, emails, anything from your dad praising your work. That’s all it will take to debunk your aunt’s claim that you’re doing something he wouldn’t approve of.”
“Oh,” Ar
ley willed her brain to re-engage. Her mind had offered her a very sexy scene, only this time she was the heroine and John was most certainly the hero. She shook herself slightly. “Uh, yes, I do. He helped me with my first few manuscripts before I sent them to publishers. We exchanged lots of emails about my work, and he always said how proud he was of me.” The haunting loss tripped and entangled itself in the memories. She drew a restorative sip of the most fantastic glass of wine she’d ever had, trying to get a grip on her mind and her body. Undeniable lust fought for dominance over the loss, and the possible answer to every issue she’d dealt with lately was sitting across the table from her, admitting that he wanted to kiss her.
She’d never talked with any guy that was so completely honest, as if he really didn’t give a damn what anyone else thought. His freedom seemed to spring open the door to the cage that she’d been desperately trying to loose for the last decade of her life.
“Eat, sweetheart. I swear I’m not trying to be an asshole. I’m not trying to rush you, but patience is definitely not my virtue.” His urgency continued to stir her body and ignite her blood. The fire in his eyes grew exponentially as he watched her slip the tongs of her fork out of her mouth obediently.
His command was met with a mischievous grin as she complied. The blood flow in his body had been slowly directing itself from his brain to his cock all evening. He’d offered up about as much law talk as he could muster. Those lips, pinked from the warmth of her pasta, and the timid light that sparkled in her eyes were just too damned distracting. Slow down, Rowan! Geez! She’s been through hell and had her heart not only broken but trampled on by some motherfucking douchebag that didn’t deserve to even hold her coat. His mutinous eyes tracked back to her mouth. She licked a little of the cream sauce from the bite she’d just taken off of her lower lip, and he fought not to groan aloud.
“You’re not rushing me. I wanted to kiss you this morning while we were talking on the beach, but I didn’t want you to think I was …”
“Hey, Arley, to me, you’re an extremely talented author. What could possibly be more difficult that capturing the emotions of human beings falling in love? Every thought I have about you is good. You’re a brilliant and beautiful woman that I’m extremely lucky to be having dinner with. Me wanting to kiss you has nothing to do with what you write and everything to do with wanting to get to know you better, the real you, the person you don’t let many people see. Are you really starting to believe that people that write Erotica are somehow sluts? Have you been told that so many times now that you believe it?”
The way he stripped away the nonsense of her life in one fell swoop left Arley short of words and breath. “No.” She shook her head and tried to slow her racing heart. “I think I just started to think that everyone thought that.”
“Well, not everyone does. I don’t think that at all.”
Yeah, you don’t, and yet somehow I know you’re not going to stick around either. That reminder paralyzed just a little of her lust. Reminding herself that she was determined to see where this ended up, she rushed through the rest of her dinner anxious to see what might be coming after those kisses he kept promising her.
He apologized again for rushing her and then seemed to force himself to slow down, much to her chagrin. They walked hand in hand down the long pier out towards the water. The wind whipped her hair around her face and bombarded her senses with his intoxicating smell. Fresh cut grass, coffee, his cologne, and a musk that was all John filled her lungs. She inhaled deeply. Lost in thought, she was startled when he halted her progress down the wooden planks. There was a large walled and roofed structure near the end of the pier. The slight covering kept the wind at bay. Arley wasn’t certain what the purpose of the half-building was unless it was for unloading the fishing boats out of the sun, but a moment later John turned her and caged her body between himself and the wall.
Her breaths sped as he locked those gorgeous blue eyes on hers in the moonlight. “Sorry, sweetheart, but I suck at being patient.” His right hand traced her cheek and then cupped the nape of her neck as he drew her in. He brushed his lips over hers in a hesitant caress, as if he weren’t certain she wanted this. She parted her mouth in answer to his unspoken question as her eyes closed in expectant satisfaction.
A hungry, guttural groan echoed against the rush of the waves crashing into the shoreline. He turned his head, and their lips worked simultaneously. He dipped his tongue into her mouth. A quick, gasped sound of desperate pleasure escaped her. His body pressed closer, crowding her. Without thought, she ran her hands over his pecs and the up to his neck. All she knew in that moment was she needed more of him. She pulled him closer still.
His kiss devastated her every sense. It somehow burned away the shame she’d been living for so long it had left her feeling unworthy of anything so astoundingly good. Her body trembled against his, and he wrapped his arms around her, never breaking from her lips. He steadied her against him, holding her close enough to feel his cock prod against her abdomen. The hardened manliness of him mixed itself in heady juxtaposition with his tender care and the safety he offered her without end. Unable to help herself, she rocked against him.
Another moan thundered from his chest as he allowed her breath by tracking his kisses down her neck. His teeth grazed just above her collarbone, and she fought not to beg to be carried back to the Inn, taken to his bed, to complete the overwhelming sensations he brought her. Everything about that nip said he certainly knew a thing or two about how to pleasure a woman, and something about the way he held her in his powerful embrace said that he wasn’t asking for anything from her other than for her to be who she really was.
“Oh, God, please,” she finally whimpered in his ear. “Please.”
He lifted his head to stare in to her eyes. His jaw worked rhythmically. A storm of voracious need swirled in his eyes just before they closed and he tried to regain his breath. He turned his head and then tucked her face to his neck, caressing her hair and her body in equal measure. He seemed to regain his composure and then whispered, “Not tonight, baby doll. I need you to be sure, Arley, and you’ve been through a lot of shit lately. When I take you to bed, I plan to be there for hours worshipping your entire body head to toe. I plan to make you feel things you’ve never felt before. I’m not a man of half-measures, Arley. Once I get started, I need you to know that I’m who you want to let in like that. I don’t want you to have any doubts, sweetheart. We just met, and as bad as I want to know every single thing about your sexy little body, I’m willing to wait until you’re absolutely certain.”
Rejection took another vicious blow at her psyche. She’d been damming back tears for years now, but he’d just devastated all of her resolve. Her temper flared, and she tried to jerk away from him, but he held her with ease. “No, ma’am, but that’s precisely what I’m talking about. I don’t do jerking away from me once I have you. If I haven’t made you trust me enough to keep you from trying to escape then we have a long way to go before I take you to my bed.” He pressed his hips towards hers again. “I know you feel how hard I’m hung. That’s all you, baby doll. This has nothing to do with a lack of desire to own you thoroughly, but like I said, you need a little more time before we jump into bed. You’ve been through enough. You don’t even trust yourself anymore. I want you to trust me completely before we take this further.”
She’d never appreciated being told what she wanted or what she needed, but his voice rang with truth. He wasn’t lying to her. She could always tell when people lied. Charlotte’s constant lies about her books swam in the confusion that roiled in Arley’s gut. The falsifications that Charlotte was proud of her were somehow worse than her mother’s shame. At least her mother was being honest. Maybe she did need a little more time. Maybe he was right. She had been through a lot of shit lately, but the dominance that exuded from him and the fact that he knew precisely what he wanted made her longing to be with him grow exponentially with every ragged beat of her battered h
eart.
“I thought you sucked at patience.” She huffed and tried to will away the embarrassment of all but begging him to take her to bed and being summarily turned down.
“God, Arley, you have no idea how hard this is for me. I want you bad, baby, but I’m not taking you to bed until I know that it’s really what you want, too. Would it help you to know that I’m gonna be thinking about you in bed tonight, and I’m sure as hell not going to be sleeping?”
Another flush of heat worked its way up from her chest and settled in her cheeks. She was somehow giggling again. How had he just turned her down and then made her laugh by being so thoroughly honest? How was anyone this real?
“So, kissing is okay, but sex is off the table?” She sighed over his rules.
Chuckling he touched their foreheads together. “Truthfully, no. I shouldn’t have kissed you like that just yet, but I’ve never wanted anyone as much as I want you. All I’d been able to think about was how good your lips were going to taste. I’m sure as hell not a fucking saint. I’m just trying to do right by you.”
Relationships never lasted. It was ridiculous to think that they ever would. He saw evidence of their demise each and every day. He wanted to make certain that when they parted she never felt like he’d taken anything more from her than she was willing to give. It had to be equal so that when the lust dried up and their lives were easier apart than together they could walk away and still be friends. That was the only way relationships ever worked. She was beautiful, funny, brilliant, one hell of a conversationalist, but at some point, inevitably, life would get in the way. It always did.
“We have two weeks here, sweetheart, and if that goes as well as I think it’s going to go, I definitely do not mind weekending in Birmingham or keeping you tucked up in my condo so I can indulge myself in you endlessly, but let’s make sure that’s what you want, too.”