Trying It All

by Christi Barth

  Well, that did explain a lot of things. Summer just had to figure out what to say next.

  If Riley was just a friend, she’d barrel ahead without thinking twice. Blunt honesty was kind of her trademark. If he was one of the guys Summer dated for half a second before moving on, she wouldn’t waste her time on trying to help him. But he was in a category all by himself. More than a friend. Definitely more than any of her other numerous flash-in-the-pan guys. Whatever he was, it made her want to be more careful with him. More…aware of the impact her words could have.

  So with a great deal of caution, Summer asked, “Do you think maybe it’s a crutch?”

  Riley gave a gentle flick to her forehead. “Uh, yeah. Of course. One that works.”

  “I didn’t mean in a pop psychology way. You were medicated for a while to help prevent anxiety attacks, right?”

  “Yep. They finally stopped completely a couple of years before I joined the NTSB and decided I had to go cold turkey.”

  That certainly bolstered her theory. Summer didn’t want to push too hard. But she did want to get through to Riley. Giving him physical space while crowding in on his brain seemed like a good plan. She beckoned him to follow her into the living room, where she sat on a low gray couch.

  “Cold turkey’s pretty abrupt. Hardcore. When people get out of a cast, or a brace, and still feel weak but are ready to move ahead, they use crutches for added support. Sometimes it isn’t physically necessary. They just need to know the backup is there.”

  Riley walked over to the window. Braced one hand on the frame and stared out at some treetops. “You think I decided total control would be my support? My backup?”

  “Maybe. Which was something you needed to take that bold leap. I just don’t think you need it anymore. You’ve proven to yourself a hundred times over that you are in control. You don’t need the extra façade of trying so hard to be.”

  There were long moments of silence. Too many for Summer’s comfort. Had she gone too far? Pushed too hard?

  Finally he turned around. “That’s…interesting. Eye-opening.”

  “You’re not mad?” Because he had every right to be, with her just tossing out a theory. No matter how good her intentions, Riley was entitled to his own emotional response.

  “Not at you. The more I think about it, I might be a little mad at myself.” He rubbed a hand across his forehead. Gave a rueful almost-laugh. “But I’m glad you said what you did. Ultimately, I’m sure it’ll help.”

  Summer lifted her chin. “Good.” When really she felt like doing pirouettes around the room. If she’d lifted even an ounce of guilt and stress and anxiety off his shoulders, it was worth it.

  “You’ve got a talent for shaping your thoughts into a truth that can help someone.” Riley balanced on the arm of the couch, with one leg bent across the cushions as a stabilizer. “You were terrific on the podcast. Why don’t you do more motivational speeches? Turn it from a hobby into a whole second career?”

  Geez. Just because he might be sloughing off his own anxiety didn’t mean that Riley needed to shift hers into high gear. Careers meant a long-term, future-focused plan. Which always broke Summer out into emotional hives. No point in planning for a future when there was a perfectly good chance that it would never come.

  “I’m a dabbler. I don’t plan as far ahead as a ‘career.’ ”

  “Bullshit.” Riley wagged a finger right in her face. “You don’t call your store a career?”

  Absolutely not. Not if she wanted to sleep at night. What was this—self-actualization revenge? “It’s a phase. Something fun I’m trying until I get bored.”

  “It’s way more than that. Don’t you see? You’ve built something.”

  “And there’s a whole team in China that builds entire towns out of dominoes. Just to tap the one on the end after months of progress to watch the whole thing collapse. I don’t plan to wait for Fate to make me crumble. Forever Summer isn’t a long-term career for me.” Not because she didn’t like it, or thought it was a bad fit. Simply because “long-term” wasn’t in her vocabulary.

  “I call bullshit again. You’ve grown it so much that you’re trying to expand it with this Web launch.”

  Summer scrambled to defend her actions. To prove to Riley that he couldn’t possibly be right. Because she wouldn’t do that. She wouldn’t accidentally build something with an eye toward the future. “That’s just good business. I minored in it, you know. Simply trying to survive in today’s economy.”

  “That’s thumbing your nose at the unknown.” Riley tapped the end of her nose with one finger. She tried to be annoyed. Kind of leaned more toward being charmed by the cute gesture. Damn it. “That’s planning ahead. That’s not surviving. That’s thriving.”

  Riley’s words were setting off a domino effect of anxiety inside her. Guess turnabout was fair play. “I thought we were talking about your issues?”

  “It just so happens that you’re currently one of my biggest issues. I don’t know what to do about you, Summer. On paper you’re wrong for me. You’re dangerous for me. You make me try things I don’t want to, or aren’t ready for. Somehow I don’t regret any of it, even though I worry that someday I will.”

  Ouch. Again, what Riley was saying made sense. It wasn’t intentionally hurtful. It was honest.

  But it did hurt.

  And Summer didn’t want to hurt him. A month ago she would’ve happily short-sheeted his bed, or taken a little too much pleasure if he got a parking ticket. Not now. Not now that she truly knew, truly saw Riley. Truly loved…

  Whoa.

  No.

  Did she? Summer had never fallen in love before. Hadn’t been tempted—and hadn’t wanted to risk it. Love seemed to be the ultimate taunt to Fate and the future. The ultimate commitment to believing in the future, and desperately wanting one.

  It was too big a thing to wrap her mind around. The furthest Summer could go was that maybe, perhaps, possibly she was falling in love with Riley. Which made what he’d just said to her all the more cutting. More painful.

  “I don’t want to be a regret for you,” she said softly. “I…I care too much to inflict any pain on you.”

  Riley slid off the arm and scooted over to put his arm around her shoulder. The change in position brought him so close. Made their conversation a hundred percent more intimate, when she could see every golden glint in his eyes, and the way they blazed with the fervor and intensity that always knocked her socks—and her panties—off.

  “You’re not getting it. I said that’s how you come off on paper. Because I’m damn near obsessed with quantifying things. Lists and reasons, cause and effect. The thing is, though? The effect you have on me, Summer, can’t be summed up in a report.”

  Now she was just confused. “That’s good, right?”

  For a second, her own confusion was mirrored back to her in his eyes. “Hardly. I’m going against every instinct, every rationale that springs to mind. All I can do is think about how much I like being with you. Laughing with you. Sharing everything with you.” Riley gripped her hands as tight as if he was underwater and she was his lifeline to the surface of a very deep pond. “I’ve fallen for you, Summer. Head over heels. I don’t care if it doesn’t make sense. I don’t care how hard it might make things. I need you.”

  Honestly? Her first thought was joy that they were on the same page. Quickly followed by relief that he hadn’t used the no-turning-back-from L-word. The one Summer absolutely wasn’t ready to deal with. Did that mean they were actually perfect for each other? Did that mean that love was on the very near horizon?

  She kept butting up against how it smacked of the future. Which meant it—the happiness of being in love—could be taken away from her in the blink of an eye. Was giving in to it worth that potential pain? Wouldn’t it be safer to not take that step? Wasn’t protecting herself, her heart, the smartest thing to do? The thing a survivor—how Summer had identified herself since that fateful day a decade ago—w
ould do?

  Except…Summer didn’t think she had a choice in the matter. You couldn’t logic away emotions, feelings. So she squeezed his hands tightly. “I’m falling for you, too, Riley. Harder than I ever have before. Harder than I ever thought I would.”

  Summer basked in his bright smile for a minute, knowing that she was sending the same right back. It was like they were breathing each other in. Wasn’t that just romantic and corny and…wonderful?

  Her whole life was about doing what felt good. And being with Riley felt amazing. The only way to be true to herself was to admit that. Right now. In a near-whisper, she said, “I’ve tried a lot of things, but never falling in love.”

  Riley touched his forehead to hers. “Me neither. Maybe we give it a try? Together?”

  The words wouldn’t come. They were clogged in her throat, behind the tears threatening to well up and out. So Summer nodded. And then Riley kissed her. Tenderly. Softly, nudging at her upper lip, then sliding his tongue along the inside of her bottom lip. The sweetness of it cracked that last shell of hard protection around her heart. The one that had never worried about the future before, much less expected it.

  The lightness of the swoop of his tongue raised goosebumps all over her body. The good kind. Where instead of reaching for a blanket, you wanted to rip off all of your clothes. She didn’t, though. Summer wanted to make love with Riley more than anything. Slowly. Savoring each moment, each one filled with greater meaning, greater weight, greater beauty than any other time they’d come together. This time was different.

  They kissed and kissed and kissed, each kiss more drugging and dreamy than the last. It might’ve lasted five minutes. Thirty. An hour. Summer lost track. Lost count of each glide and thrust of lips and tongue. Each murmured compliment and encouragement that came from Riley in a steady stream that simultaneously turned her on and turned her to mush. The heat where their thighs pressed together. The way his hands kept running through her hair…which raised more goosebumps every time they did.

  At some point he’d pulled out the elastic in her ponytail. Along the way she’d unbuttoned his shirt to his navel. He must’ve untied the wide bow acting as a belt for her pants. Each step in disrobing was so organic that Summer hadn’t consciously done it or noticed when he had.

  Finally, the path his lips took when they dipped onto her neck moved lower, lower, straight onto her nipple. He’d pulled her breast up, free of the bra and the top. No material separated them. And it drove Summer wild. She thrust her arms inside his shirt to push it off his broad shoulders. The ones that looked as though they could hold the entire weight of the world and keep it from her. Keep her safe.

  Each swirl of his tongue was mirrored on her other breast with the palm of his hand. Her palms were busy languorously sweeping across his back. Smooth skin over taut muscles. Sinew and bone and that magnificently ripped body that was such a sexy surprise when Summer got him out of that boring suit.

  Their movements were less frantic this time. Still purposeful, driven, and overflowing with passion and need, but slower, as though they were swimming in a deep pool. Taking their time enhanced each sensation tightening her nerve endings. It made Summer’s head spin.

  Riley stood. “Don’t move. Don’t even blink until I get back.” His footsteps thundered into the kitchen. When he came back, it was with two dish towels. He laid them across the couch.

  “You’re protecting the couch?”

  “It’s not ours. Right thing to do.” Then he quickly stripped out of the rest of his clothes and put on a condom.

  Omigod. Summer couldn’t decide between laughing and crying. This responsible, steady, always-looking-ten-steps-ahead man was protecting a couch. It was ridiculous. It was sensible. It was something that never would’ve occurred to her, being too caught up in the spontaneity of the moment. But Riley was right. Her attitude was careless, selfish. Disrespectful to the friend who’d loaned the condo to her. And Riley’s solution took less than a minute.

  So instead of laughing, Summer marveled at how his brain never stopped turning over angles of how to make a situation better. Whether out of an actual concern for safety or simple courtesy.

  God, it was scary how much she adored him.

  She wanted to catch up. Started to unbutton her pants. His hand closed over hers.

  “Let me.” It came out as a rough growl that she wouldn’t dream of refusing.

  Riley unwrapped Summer as though she were a blown-glass treasure. As he pulled up her shirt with two fingers on each side, he let the other long, limber fingers drag lightly and oh-so-slowly over each rib, each inch of flesh being bared. Her arms raised overhead to help; he left the shirt tangled about her wrists, twisting them together.

  “Stay like that. I want to look at all of you.”

  Fine. Summer had zero objection, since she was drinking her fill of him in the mix of rapidly graying twilight and the orange glow from the streetlights. He was lithe and magnificent, tanned, with a connected series of rippling muscles that made her mouth water. Scarred, probably from soccer games over the years, as well as the accident. That only made him sexier.

  And then her eyes fluttered shut, because he was licking a zigzag path across her stomach and breasts. While his nimble, clever fingers made quick work of her zipper. Tiny tremors shook her, inside and out. A tiny pre-orgasm—while she was still half-dressed—from the mere flutter of a tongue across her achingly tight nipple.

  Riley slid down her pants. Again, inch by agonizingly slow inch. At this point her hips were already pistoning, left and right as well as up and down, as though doing a horizontal lap dance just for him. Because staying still was impossible. Not when his hair brushed against one thigh as he seared a line of heat with his lips down the inside of the other. He spread her legs to get at the back of her knee. Turned her leg to lick the indent at the side of her ankle. When she couldn’t stand the sweet torture a moment more, he somehow knew.

  Kneeling on the giant loops of the ecru rug, Riley took himself in hand and held the tip right at her entrance. “Look at us, together, Summer.” Eyes locked on the sensual sight, his hard length penetrating her folds as slowly as he’d done everything else.

  He filled her. He filled her heart. He filled her mind. He filled spaces Summer hadn’t realized were empty. Riley joined with her. Made the two of them into something singular and wonderful. The layers of emotion on top of his insistent hardness set off a cascade of intense sensation before he was even fully seated. Quivering everywhere in release, she screamed his name, over and over until it filled the brick-walled room as fully as Riley filled her.

  Evidently he’d been at the breaking point, too. Three deep thrusts were all it took before his hands tightened on her forearms. Before the cords in his neck stood out, his hands locked around hers like a vise, and he groaned, “Sweet Jesus, Summer,” as his entire body shook.

  After the earth stopped moving and Summer had the strength to open her eyes, she said, “That was—”

  “—different,” Riley finished for her. Then he kissed her so sweetly, so deeply, it said all the words she was still scared to verbalize. It was a kiss full of promises and tenderness. Riley was just full of surprises tonight.

  “We should probably eat the dinner you braved the crowds to buy.”

  “Do you need to get more work done tonight?”

  Yes. But she wouldn’t. Wouldn’t be able to concentrate. Wouldn’t do anything but think about how much she wanted to be with Riley. So why not indulge herself as they charted this new course together? “No. Do you?”

  “No.” His overly dramatic shake of the head told Summer that Riley’s answer was as big a lie as her own.

  That was fine by her.

  Chapter 19

  Griffin looked out the window of the private jet. “We’re almost to New Haven.”

  On a groan, Riley ordered, “Quit the running commentary. Nobody cares about the airspeed, or which speck on the map we’re nearing.” They sat in cushi
oned leather club chairs across from Logan and Josh. Knox was behind them, furiously tapping away at his laptop. Probably buying and selling three more companies. Simultaneously.

  “Nervous about your speech?” Logan offered the basket of muffins he’d been pawing at. Not a hardship for him to be generous, having already taken the caramel banana and the pumpkin with Nutella swirl.

  Griff shrugged. Pulled off the USCG ball cap that went with his operational dress blues. He looked back down at the iPad he’d been fiddling with the entire trip. “A little.”

  “What’s it about?” Josh asked. “You never told us why you were invited to speak at Homecoming.”

  Griff’s gaze darted about the cabin, full of polished wood and shiny brass accents. “It’s about you.”

  Puffing up, Josh thumped on his chest, Tarzan style. “My off-the-hook skills at a griddle? Or the way I slay it with the ladies?”

  “Cooking and sex.” Talk about a one-track—no, a two-track mind. Riley wadded up his cloth napkin and tossed it at Josh’s head. “Does anything else stand a chance of penetrating that thick skull of yours?”

  “Soccer, of course. And don’t knock my thick skull—it limited the damage from the bus crash to a big-ass fracture instead of a total cave-in on my brain.”

  “I think your brain gave up and caved in a long time ago,” Logan taunted.

  This was already shaping up to be a great trip. All the guys together. The music playing in the cabin was pulled from the set list of the Weezer concert they’d seen at FedExField last year. Logan putting the hurt on Josh didn’t suck, either.

  Griff wasn’t right, though. Antsy. Jiggling one leg as though he were responsible for keeping the plane aloft. “The speech is about Josh?”