Jenna hoped he wouldn’t feel weird when he woke up from their whirlwind night. She wasn’t exactly in her comfort zone, either. Alex had told her time and again that Dylan wasn’t the kind of guy who did exactly what he’d done last night, and she certainly wasn’t that kind of girl. According to Alex, Dylan was the good guy in the group—not the guy who had random hookups. In fact, Alex made Dylan sound like a candidate for her open prince position. I guess we shall see.
Alex. Jenna tried to feel guilty but didn’t. Alex had been her first choice, and he didn’t want her. He’d even encouraged Dylan to approach her. Obviously, he didn’t care what happened between her and Dylan, and she was tired of being rejected.
Jenna rubbed the hotel shampoo into her hair and took her time rinsing it out. She smiled when she heard the bathroom door click open.
Dylan opened the shower door and joined her under the water, wrapping his arms around her waist and pressing his chest against her back.
She flipped around and caught him smiling sleepily at her. “Good morning, beautiful,” he said. Jenna felt a huge weight lift off her shoulders at his pleasant, sexy greeting.
“Hi, yourself,” she said, wrapping her arms around his neck.
“Whatcha doing?” He bent to kiss her arm, and his hair flopped over his forehead.
“Conditioning. Wanna help?”
Jenna unwrapped her arms from his neck to hand him the conditioner. As he squeezed it into his hand and started gently rubbing it into her hair, she embraced him again. She leaned back to rinse it out without letting go and sighed as he ran his hands through her hair to help.
“Do me?” he asked as he reached behind her for the shampoo.
“I did.”
He grinned, and she almost passed out right there in the shower. “I mean my hair.”
“Oh, so you joined me in here to actually get clean, not dirty.” Jenna let go of him and bent her head under the water to rinse more thoroughly.
“Maybe we can do both.”
She watched as he shampooed his hair, admiring the way his triceps flexed and his back muscles popped out under his armpits. Really? This is standing naked in front of me? Talk about ending a drought. She wanted to run her hands down his sides, feel every inch of him. She lathered her hands with soap and did just that.
He rinsed his hair in the sloppy way men do and opened his eyes just as she reached around his back. She pressed her chest against his, sharing his bubbles, pleased with his body’s reaction.
Eagerly, he lifted her chin and kissed her mouth, then trailed his lips down her neck. “Jenna,” he murmured as she lifted her leg around his waist. “Let’s go back to bed.”
Jenna’s brain moved in slow motion, but her body followed him out of the bathroom and back toward the giant, messy bed. They stood next to it, wet and naked, as he slowly kissed her, tangling his hands in her wet hair. She let her head drop back to entice him lower, and he trailed his tongue down her jawbone, down the side of her neck to her shoulders.
“You have the most gorgeous neck I have ever seen,” he murmured into her ear.
She’d heard that before, from Alex. “It’s like a giraffe,” he’d said. She’d thrown something at him and he’d quickly added, “Like a gorgeous giraffe! Your neck is gorgeous.”
Chills shot up her spine when Dylan brushed his lips against her throat, bringing her back to now. Fairy tale or not, I’ll take this reality, she thought.
“I could kiss your neck all day,” he said.
“Please do. Hmm, you are so good at that.” She dipped her head under his cheek to kiss his lips again and pressed her body against his, pushing him down onto the bed. Straddling him, she sat back and looked at him underneath her, stretched out on his back.
He put his hands behind his head, and she leaned forward to hold his biceps. “What are you thinking about?” he teased, smiling up at her.
I’m thinking you look like a prince. “I’m thinking about what I want to do with you.”
He reached up for her and gently pulled her to him, and Jenna kissed him in a way that showed playtime was over. Her body tingled in anticipation for what was to follow, and she gladly let him roll her over on her back and settle between her thighs.
“Jenna,” he murmured as he reached for the condoms.
“Hmm,” she managed.
“Did I tell you last night that you are fucking awesome?” He ripped the package open with his teeth and spit out the piece of wrapper.
“I don’t remember.” She smiled and feigned confusion. He had told her. More than once.
“I never want to leave this room.”
“Then let’s not.”
Afterward, Jenna rested her head on Dylan’s chest while he played with her hair. Her scalp tickled as he gently tugged the messy strands.
They dozed in and out of consciousness for minutes or hours, until Jenna bolted upright.
“Dylan! What time is it?” She looked for her phone and tried to navigate through the mess of sheets. “Aren’t you supposed to be on a red carpet?”
Dylan pulled her back down. “I don’t want to go.” He tried to spoon her, but she wiggled away, sitting up again and covering her chest with a pillow.
“Shit! It’s noon, and I vaguely remember something about lunch. Or was it brunch? Aren’t we supposed to meet everyone?” Jenna rubbed her scalp as she searched her fuzzy memories, clouded by the haze of alcohol and sex.
“Darn it. I guess we missed that. We should probably check our phones,” Dylan said flatly, not moving. He ran his hand up her thigh.
Jenna swatted it away. “Dylan. Come on.” He used his thumb to draw circles on her upper thigh. “Stop! Seriously,” she said, giggling, but she leaned down to kiss him.
An hour and a condom later, Jenna insisted they check their messages. “I’ll only check if you do something for me,” Dylan said.
“What else could you possibly want me to do for you?” Jenna teased as she sat up and tried to remember what she had done with her phone.
“Come to the premiere with me tonight?”
She found his phone on the floor next to the bed and handed it to him. “You really want me to?”
He nodded. “Please.”
“But I don’t have any clothes,” she said, lying back down.
“No worries. Look.” He held up his phone, showing a missed call from Gretchen.
“Who’s Gretchen?”
“My stylist. She’s somewhere in the hotel. Studio sends her with me since they think I can’t dress myself. She’ll check you out and find you something nice to wear. She’s really good at her job.”
“Are you sure? You aren’t going to get in trouble?” Jenna couldn’t believe a stylist was going to dress her to go to a movie premiere with Dylan Barnes. Am I awake or dreaming? Maybe this is a fairy tale.
“She’ll be thrilled I have a date for tonight, trust me.” Dylan tapped his phone. “And she won’t let you dress yourself, anyway. We have to complement each other. It’s all Hollywood crap.”
“Well. Okay. No complaints from me.”
“You’ll come with me?”
“Isn’t that what I’ve been doing all night?” she teased.
Dylan leaned up onto his elbow, and that bicep made another appearance. “Will you come to the premiere with me, Jenna in the Blue Dress?”
“Oh, that. Hmm. Doesn’t sound terrible.”
He smirked. “Great. Thank you. Now check the room service menu and tell me what you want to eat. Then we’ll call Steve and Alex, beg their forgiveness for missing brunch or lunch or whatever we’re supposed to be at, then we’ll eat and get back to the real business of the day.”
“Which business is that?”
“Our two-night stand. Did you have plans tonight, because besides this premiere, I’d really enjoy being naked with you until my flight tomorrow, if you’re up for it.” He flashed his gold eyes and perfect smile, waiting for her response as if there was a woman alive who could resist th
e offer of spending the next twenty-four hours naked with Dylan.
Jenna smiled. “This is the best day ever. I’m in.”
“Awesome,” he said, grinning.
The food made it to the room before Gretchen, so Jenna and Dylan put on hotel bathrobes and ate as if they had never eaten before. Then Jenna went into the bathroom to try to make herself presentable for the stylist. She brushed her hair and teeth with Dylan’s supplies as he searched for their clothes, which were scattered around the floor.
An impatient knock on the door interrupted them, and Dylan opened it to Gretchen, who looked as if she’d walked right out of Glamour. Gretchen gushed to Jenna about how happy she was that Dylan found a date and murmured about “all she could do with her” as she took Jenna’s measurements and asked her about her “style.”
Jenna apologized for her messed-up hair and lack of clothing, but Gretchen only smirked and winked. “Lucky girl,” she whispered. “No need to apologize.” Then loud enough for Dylan to hear, she said, “I’ll be back with hair and makeup by five. Five. Got it? Both of you? I want you showered and ready to be primped.” Then she rushed out on her mission to make them beautiful.
By then, it was close to two. Jenna cringed as she checked her phone and saw three missed calls, two from Alex and one from Penny, and about fifteen text messages. She sighed.
“Are they looking for you too?” Dylan asked. “I have five missed calls and ten texts.”
“I think they all hate us,” Jenna said. “Guess what, though? I don’t care.” She threw her phone on the bed and crossed her arms over her chest. “I mean, we’re allowed to be a little reckless, right?” She sat cross-legged on the bed, her chin in the air.
“Right. How do you want to reply?” Dylan disappeared into the bathroom, and Jenna heard him brushing his teeth.
“How about, ‘Spent wild night with your D-Barnes and don’t plan on leaving the bed,’” she called after him.
Dylan peeked around the bathroom door and grinned a mouthful of pearly, polished whites. “Maybe that’s too aggressive. How about, ‘We’re fine, sorry we missed lunch,’ or was it brunch? I can’t remember. Anyway, ‘Sorry we missed you’ so they don’t know we aren’t paying attention.”
Jenna nodded. “Yes. Sorry we missed you.”
Dylan continued, “Then, ‘How about lunch tomorrow?’ Tomorrow’s Sunday, right?”
“If we ask them to lunch on Sunday, we have to show up, though.”
“True. But I have to leave tomorrow, so we’ll have to leave this room anyway, unfortunately,” Dylan said. “I’ll send the text.”
Jenna watched him tap out the message, admiring how his now dry, soft-looking hair fell down his face, the way he curved from his back to his shoulders to the belt on his robe, down over his hips and thighs. She could devour him for days, months, and never get tired of him.
“Is tomorrow Sunday already? We’re just getting to know each other,” she said as she untied the belt of her robe. She let it slip off, and the robe fell over her waist onto the bed. “What are we going to do until Gretchen gets back at five?”
In less than a second, Dylan had tossed the phone away and jumped on top of her. “Have I told you you’re fucking awesome?” he said, sending tingles from her lips, to her belly, down to the tips of her toes.
“Only once,” she lied.
“You’re fucking awesome, Jenna in the Blue Dress.”
“Stecco,” she said. “My last name is Stecco. But I like ‘in the Blue Dress’ too.” She smiled and kissed him, planning how to fill the hours until they had to leave.
Chapter 11
Clare
Clare woke for the second time that Saturday morning in Lucas’s bed, but this time he was nowhere to be found. She looked at the clock, then saw the handwritten note next to her.
C—come find me before breakfast so I can join you—L.
He’d drawn a smiley face next to the L.
Clare was an awkward, chubby, boy-crazy thirteen-year-old the first time she laid eyes on Lucas, the seventeen-year-old heartthrob getting ready to graduate high school. She’d heard around town he wanted to work with horses, so she manipulated her parents into hiring him for the summer to help around the stables. Clare, Melissa, and Cindy would hide out and peek at him from behind the haystacks while he worked and talk about his dreaminess, who he was dating, what they thought he’d be like as a boyfriend.
When the summer ended, Clare’s parents knew they had an asset in Lucas and offered him the backhouse and a generous salary to stay on full time. Clare started high school, got a part-time job at the little independent bookstore on Main Street, and concentrated on her schoolwork. She enjoyed having Lucas around because her parents were always so busy. While her crush on him never faded, she’d figured she was too young for him, and her parents would kill her if she took his attention from the horses, anyway.
Four years later on his twenty-first birthday, Lucas sat in Clare’s dining room enjoying one of her mom’s delicious dinners and opening presents. Mom had sewn a quilt for him, and Dad gave him cigars and whiskey. Clare had enlarged and framed the photograph of the farm she had taken—a copy of which now hung in her California office—and wrapped it up with a nice neat bow. On the bottom of the photograph with a lightly held pencil, she’d written:
L—You belong here…C.
Then, right there at the dinner table, Lucas had asked her dad, “Sir, would you mind if I take your daughter out tonight?”
Clare turned beet red and stared at Lucas wide-eyed.
“Do you think that’s appropriate?” her dad had asked.
“Just as friends, sir. I’d never disrespect her, or you. I just thought it would be nice to see a movie.”
“A movie, eh? No drinking?”
“Daddy!” Clare said. “Of course not!”
“Well, it’s up to her, Lucas. As long as there’s no drinking involved, a friendship is fine by me.”
Clare and her mom looked at her dad in shock. He had always resisted her dating, bellowing, “You will not step foot out of this house with a boy until you are eighteen, young lady!” Clare’s mom had pleaded with him to lighten up, but there was no convincing him. Yet that night, he’d practically pushed her into the world with Lucas.
Lucas had turned to Clare. “What do you say? Want to catch a movie?” He’d flashed the smile she had loved since she was thirteen, and she’d nodded, unable to form words.
The rest was history. Eight years later, here was Clare, in the backhouse, twenty-five years old, doing the same thing she’d done when she was seventeen.
It was a morning like this only six months ago when Clare had decided to take the California assignment. Talking to Lucas was heart-wrenching. “A year?” he kept saying. “You want to be apart for a year?”
“I need to do this. I need to try something for myself. And if I do a good job, I’ll get the district manager position here. It would mean more money. I’ve been manager of the Cliffville store for five years now. If I don’t advance, I’ll go nuts.”
“Aren’t you happy? Am I doing something wrong?”
“No! You aren’t doing anything wrong. I need a break.”
“From us?”
“From Nebraska. From this farm. From this town. I’m not like you, Lucas. I am restless. I want to see the country. I wouldn’t leave for another two months, and a year will fly by, you’ll see.” Lucas could object all he wanted, but she’d known she was going. She wouldn’t let him stop her no matter what that meant for their relationship. She had to get away.
As she got dressed, she looked over the bureau at the photo she’d given him eight years ago. She must have known back then, before she’d left, that she couldn’t spend her life in Cliffville. She’d tried to convince herself she would be back, but she knew even then that she wouldn’t.
As she wandered outside onto the property, the cool morning breeze blew against her bare arms. The sun was calm in Nebraska, so mild and manageable.
She thought about her life in California. The busyness, the city, the craziness. Despite all that, she knew she’d become more settled in the wackiness of California than she’d ever felt in the quietness of Cliffville.
And then there was Dylan.
If she focused on Dylan and their potential, she’d find the strength to talk to Lucas.
Outside, Lucas brushed her favorite horse, Mallory. She watched him whisper in Mallory’s big, brown ear, “Clare’s going to be so happy to ride you, Mal. We’ll take you out to the meadow. You love the meadow, right, big girl?”
Mallory turned her head and saw Clare before Lucas did, and Clare could have sworn Mallory’s eyes lit up. The sight of Lucas with her horse in the stable where she grew up, on a beautiful Nebraska day, made Clare hate herself.
Why can’t I be happy here? She had everything she loved right in front of her. Why can’t I settle myself?
Ever since she was a kid, all she’d wanted to do was live on this farm, with Lucas, Mallory, and her friends nearby. She didn’t care what life outside had to offer. Until she’d started working at the bookstore. There, she would sit in the stacks and peruse the travel section and read books set in faraway places, and suddenly Nebraska seemed small. Cliffville, which had been her entire world, became a little dot on a map. A little dot with a giant hold over me.
Clare walked to Mallory, petted her nose, and hugged her head.
Lucas smiled when he finally saw her. “Good morning, sunshine.”
She returned the smile. “Mallory looks beautiful, Luke. When can we ride?”
“After breakfast. Come back to the house with me.” Lucas walked around Mallory to take Clare’s hand. “It’s so good to see you.” His brown eyes never left hers as he picked up her hand to kiss it.
This is too hard. She knew if she walked into that house with Lucas, he would make her breakfast, and then they’d end up in bed together. In Lucas’s mind, she was his fiancée who had come home to visit him. Of course that’s what he’d think. She had to say something before they went back into the house and she reacquainted herself with the comfort she knew she would feel in his arms.
The Love Square Page 11