Make You Remember

by Macy Beckett

  Wild applause broke out from the audience. From the look of admiration in the kids’ eyes, you’d think Devyn had summoned fire from her hands. She flourished the crushed can and took a bow.

  “Thank you,” she said with a playful wink. “I’m here all week. Don’t forget to tip your server.”

  The oldest kid perked up and begged, “Do it again!”

  “Tomorrow,” Devyn promised. “I’ll plan some other steam projects, too. So be here bright and early.”

  The children nodded eagerly and bounced on their toes, still chattering about the experiment as their parents led them into the hallway. Once the center had vacated, Beau told the director, “I’d like a word with Miss Mauvais. You can go on to supper, and I’ll make sure to lock up when we leave.” After Mrs. Grayson made her exit, Beau shut the door behind her and turned to Devyn.

  “That was amazing,” he said. “You knocked it out of the ball park.”

  She waved him off with a grin.

  “How did you come up with the idea?”

  A glow radiated from Dev’s face, the unmistakable pride of a job well done. “I saw someone run the same experiment my freshman year in college, but I’d forgotten all about it. Then you came in, and I remembered what you said about blowing things up.” She used a hand to mimic an explosion. “Boom. It triggered a memory.”

  “And you made fun of my sage advice,” he teased. “Guess I’m useful for something, after all.”

  “Very useful.” The joy shining behind her gaze made Beau’s chest tight. He couldn’t recall any reward greater than seeing her this happy. “Thank you, Beau.”

  Beau. She’d said his name.

  Such a simple thing, and yet the gentle sound of it on her tongue lit him up like the Vegas strip. A surge of emotions swelled inside his lungs, and he acted without thinking. He eliminated the distance between them and took Devyn’s face between his hands. Then he fulfilled his greatest fantasy from the last ten years—he kissed her.

  Her lips were every bit as soft as he remembered, the honeyed taste of her mouth so achingly familiar that it gave him chills, even after all this time. If he thought the Belle felt like home, it was nothing compared to kissing Devyn.

  Now he was home.

  Despite the drive to take more, he didn’t rush. Instead, he moved with deliberate care to give her a chance to respond, and when she opened to him, he explored her thoroughly with slow, sensual licks that had her groaning into his mouth.

  Locking both arms around his neck, Dev stood on tiptoe and angled her head to deepen the kiss. The tip of her soft tongue stroked his while every inch of her body crushed against him. Beau’s tenuous grasp on control snapped in half. He fisted her shirt and hugged her closer while he plundered her mouth with a decade’s worth of bottled-up passion.

  Suddenly, he couldn’t get enough. It was as if a vacuum had opened up inside him, just like the flattened Coke can, and nothing but Devyn could fill the void. Every drop of blood in his body turned hot and rushed between his legs, every part of him begging to be inside her. He made love to her mouth, stopping only long enough to steal a ragged breath.

  Before he knew what he’d done, he’d pushed her against the wall and lifted her by her ass so she could wrap her legs around him. She wasted no time in hooking her ankles behind his back and straining against the ridge of his erection. A shock of pleasure tore through his groin and ricocheted down the length of his thighs. He swallowed a curse and rocked into her.

  At the contact, Devyn made the same adorable mewling sound that had earned her nickname back in high school. It was the hottest fucking noise on the planet, and Beau damn near blew in his pants.

  “Kitten,” he whispered against her mouth. “I missed you.”

  She pulled back, panting. Her eyes were thick with lust, her lips slick and swollen. She opened her mouth to speak but shut it again and darted a glance at the wide display windows lining the front wall. Then she nodded toward the other side of the room.

  “Supply closet,” she said. “Hurry.”

  Devyn’s wish was his command.

  Careful not to trip over discarded toys and games, he carried her to the closet and threw open the door. A glance inside made him wonder if they would both fit. Shelves cluttered with Play-Doh, paints, and craft supplies lined the closet walls on three sides with a vacuum cleaner taking up half the floor space. There wouldn’t be room to turn around, but he didn’t much care. He ducked his head and wedged their bodies inside, then shut the door, enveloping them in darkness.

  Devyn didn’t miss a beat. With her legs still wrapped around his waist, she unbuttoned his dress coat and rubbed her hands up and down his chest, sucking in a breath as if she’d just seen the Grand Canyon for the first time. He wanted to touch her too, ached to feel the weight of her breast in his palm. Beau supported her with one arm and tried slipping his free hand up the front of her shirt, but he banged his elbow on the shelf and knocked an object to the floor with a thunk. For an instant, he worried there might be paint seeping onto the carpet, but then Devyn started grinding again, and she wiped his mind clean of everything but the sweet pressure building behind his fly.

  “Damn, baby.” He nuzzled the side of her neck and gently nipped her delicate flesh. “You feel so good.”

  “Mmm,” she agreed, digging her heels into his backside for more leverage.

  Beau’s eyes had adjusted to the darkness, and he pulled back to gaze at her. He repeated, “I missed you. Tell me you missed me, too.”

  Dev’s teeth flashed as she grinned at him. “You talk too much.” She leaned closer and licked his top lip. “I think you’ve forgotten what your tongue is for.”

  Beau chuckled. Maybe she wasn’t ready to forgive him, but it was hard to be disappointed while she was riding his jock. Beau used a thumb to tease her nipple to a tight point, wishing like hell she’d worn that flimsy lace-up dress instead of a shirt and pants. And wishing twice as hard that he’d brought a condom. If he had, he’d be inside her right now.

  “There’s not enough room in here, Kitten,” he murmured. “But if you come back to my suite, I’ll peel off your clothes and make you eat those words.” Then he traced the shell of her ear with his tongue to show that he still knew how to use it. “And you’ll know what you’ve been missing.”

  She groaned, writhing in his arms. “It’s unearthly,” she whispered. “Just like the first time.”

  “What?” he asked.

  “Nothing. Enough with the chitchat. Shut up and finish what you started.”

  Devyn would get no arguments from him. He kissed her, pressing her against the shelving while he thrust between her thighs in an imitation of what he wanted to do with her in bed.

  Each stroke made him harder than the last, and soon the tight space was filled with the sounds of labored breathing and groans of pleasure. It occurred to him that he’d left the center door unlocked, and anyone who walked in would overhear. But Beau couldn’t bring himself to care. All that mattered was release from the pressure building low in his gut.

  When Devyn began panting and arching wildly against him, he quickened the tempo until she made the whimpering noise that’d always told him she was on the brink. Kisses turned clumsy as they moved together in a frenzied rhythm, the friction of their bodies making Beau throb until he couldn’t hold out any longer. He remembered how Devyn liked it, so he squeezed her ass hard while rotating his hips in circles, and she came undone.

  Digging her nails into his shoulders, she tipped back her head and muffled a cry while riding out her orgasm. Her ecstasy spurred his own, and seconds later, Beau bucked against her with a low groan. Violent spasms of pleasure erupted between his thighs, and he saw stars as he spilled in hot release. He rested his head against the base of Devyn’s neck, his heart thundering so loud it rang in his ears. The quakes kept racking him long after his climax ended, and he rocked into her until every drop was wrung from his core.

  He regained use of his brain by gradual deg
rees, and when his world righted itself, he was grinning like a dope and so satisfied he could have floated away on a breeze.

  “Holy shit,” he breathed. “We’ve still got it.”

  “I know, right?”

  He kissed her forehead and gave quiet laugh. “Only you.”

  “Only me what?” she asked defensively.

  “Could make me come so hard . . . or in my pants.” It was going to be an uncomfortable walk back to his cabin. “It’s like senior year all over again. Remember that time we snuck into the janitor’s closet during study hall? I had to go to football practice with cold, wet boxers. Couldn’t run worth a damn, and the coach chewed my ass.”

  Devyn didn’t seem to enjoy hearing that. Instead of laughing with him, she detangled her legs and planted both feet on the floor, then pressed a palm to his chest in a silent message to give her some space. “I need to clean up out there.”

  Her abrupt reaction stunned him into a beat of silence. “You okay?”

  “Fine,” she insisted. “But it’s cramped in here. I can’t breathe.”

  As soon as he opened the door and took a step back, she slipped around him and began picking up toys from the floor with the single-minded determination of a lady on a mission. She didn’t even pause to let her eyes adjust to the light. In seconds, she’d collected an armful and deposited the toys in the nearest bin. Beau moved forward to help her, but she extended a palm like a traffic cop.

  “I’ve got this,” she said. “You probably have a lot to do, so you can go.”

  Was that a dismissal? It sure sounded like one.

  “Hey.” He tried to catch her gaze, but she wouldn’t look at him. “What’s wrong?”

  She folded a board game in half and shoved it inside a box. “Nothing.”

  “Did I hurt you?”

  “Of course not.”

  “You came before I did, right?”

  “Yes. It was great, thanks.”

  It was great, thanks? What was this, a business transaction?

  Beau retraced his steps, trying to figure out where he’d gone wrong. Everything was fine until he’d mentioned senior year. He figured their past wasn’t quite water under the bridge, but bringing up one of their best times together shouldn’t have caused her to shut down.

  He snagged her by the elbow. “Talk to me. Are you all right?”

  When she spun on him, there was defiance in her eyes. “I’m always all right.” She pointed a little red fire truck at him and repeated, “Always. I’ve been fine for the last ten years, and there’s nothing wrong with me now.”

  “Why are you mad at me?” he asked. “You told me to finish what I started, and I did.”

  “I’m not mad at you.” She threw the truck into the bin with enough force to send another toy bouncing out to the floor.

  “Funny,” he said. “When I woke up this morning, I didn’t have ‘dumbass’ tattooed on my forehead.” He pointed at his temple. “Is it on there now?”

  She glared at him.

  “I’m not an idiot, Dev. Tell me what I did wrong.”

  Devyn spent the next couple of minutes in silence, scurrying about the room and tidying up while Beau stood there with his arms folded, refusing to budge until she answered him. After she was finished, she stowed the electric burner inside the closet they’d recently vacated and closed the doors with a gentle click. She kept her back to him when she finally spoke.

  “You didn’t do anything wrong.” Her voice was soft but wounded, like she was fighting off tears. But when he moved to join her, she extended an arm to keep him at a distance. “It’s been a long day. Just go, all right?”

  No. Nothing about this felt all right. “You’re making me worried.”

  “Look, we had a good time.” Her voice wasn’t soft now, the frost on her tongue virtually cooling the room by a few degrees. “The fact that I don’t want to cuddle afterward doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong with me. I’m not a clinger. I never was.”

  Beau wasn’t stupid, and he knew what she was doing—pushing him to leave. He didn’t want to walk away, but clearly she had no intention of lowering her defenses. If he stayed, it would only antagonize her. “Fine, I’ll go. But I’m gonna check on you later.”

  She sniffed a dry laugh. “I’m not going to jump overboard because of you, Dumont. No need to flatter yourself.”

  A spark of anger flared in his chest. After what he’d done on graduation night, he expected to work hard to earn back Devyn’s trust. But that didn’t mean he would be her personal whipping boy. He walked behind her, stopping when he noticed her shoulders stiffen. He bent to her ear and said, “Since I came back to town, I’ve done nothing but help you, and you’ve thrown it in my face every time. I don’t know what crawled up your ass, but come find me when you’re ready to apologize. I’ll be waiting.”

  Then he buttoned his coat, reclaimed his Man Card, and stalked back to his room to change clothes. It was a cold, sticky walk up the stairwell, which perfectly matched his mood.

  So much for feeling satisfied.

  Chapter 6

  “This is your third batch.” Allie pulled a wire basket from the deep fryer and shook bits of breaded okra onto a clean plate, then dusted them with garlic salt and parmesan cheese, just like Mama used to do. She slid the plate across the gleaming stainless steel island. “After this, the kitchen is closed, so you’d better go on and tell me what’s bothering you.”

  Devyn pulled another beer from the industrial-sized fridge and popped the top. She took a long gulp, but all the beer and comfort food in the world wouldn’t push down the self-loathing lodged in her throat. “I’m weak.” She took another swig and added, “And pathetic.”

  “Oh, come on. Weak?” Allie pushed a stool to the opposite side of the island and took a seat. “This coming from the girl who tracked down my fifth-grade bully and gave him an atomic wedgie on the playground?”

  Devyn smiled at the memory. The kid had outweighed her by fifteen pounds, but she’d had the height advantage, which had come in handy for tugging the waistband of his tighty-whities over his head. “Hey, nobody messes with my sister.”

  “Or my sister,” Allie said. “So tell me what’s wrong.”

  A frown replaced Devyn’s smile, and she shoved a bite of okra into her mouth.

  Allie pointed back and forth from the beer to the fried okra. “This has man trouble written all over it.”

  “Beau,” she mumbled around her food. “Who else?”

  “What did he do?”

  “Strangely enough, it’s not what he did,” Devyn said. “It’s what I did.”

  “Okay, so what did you do?”

  Devyn used a fork to stab at the innocent chunks of okra. “After graduation, when he made all those promises and then skipped out on me, I swore I’d never take him back.”

  She had spent more time than she wanted to admit fantasizing about how he’d drop to his knees and beg for a second chance. In her daydreams, she had scoffed and told Beau to go to hell, then climbed inside her silver Maserati and sped away with her hot Italian boyfriend. So much for that. “He’s back in town less than a month. A few crooked smiles and a handful of pretty words, and I’m dry humping him in the day-care closet.”

  Allie’s eyes flew wide. “You did what in the where?”

  “You heard me.”

  Devyn recalled the night of her high school reunion, when Beau had told everyone their song was “Bump n’ Grind.” How appropriate. “Tell me that’s not the weakest, most pathetic thing ever.”

  Allie’s lips twitched in a poorly concealed grin as she reached for the okra. Clearly she wasn’t taking this seriously. “You got some over-the-clothes action from a big, hunky guy. I’d say that’s the opposite of pathetic.”

  “Not just any big, hunky guy, and you know it,” Devyn said, raising the beer to her lips, but then she slammed the bottle back onto the steely counter. “When he kissed me, I forgot about everything I felt ten years ago—the fear when
I couldn’t find him, the embarrassment of being the last to know he joined the marines, the heartbreak when I realized he was gone forever. All of it just vanished.”

  Until afterward, when he’d mentioned the time they had fooled around in the janitor’s closet. Then all those old emotions had come rushing back in a tidal wave that’d nearly had her in tears.

  “Cut yourself some slack,” Allie said. “You two loved each other once. Those were powerful feelings, and it sounds like neither of you really moved on.”

  “Maybe.” But still, Devyn hated herself for how Beau had snapped his fingers and she’d come—no pun intended—faster than a bullet train. “It gets worse. He didn’t like the way I acted when we, you know, were done, so he laid a guilt trip on me.” She shook her head in disbelief. “After dumping me like a load of garbage, he weaseled his way between my legs again and somehow I’m the bad guy.”

  “Why are you the bad guy?”

  Devyn hunched over her plate and mumbled, “I was kind of mean to him.”

  “Kind of?”

  “Okay, totally mean. But I didn’t know what to do,” Devyn said, helplessly turning up her palms. “I was freaking out, and I needed to be alone. He wouldn’t take a hint. He wanted to stand around and talk about the ‘good old days’”—she made air quotes—“which weren’t all that good, trust me.”

  “So you bit his head off,” Allie said with a nod. “I know how you operate.”

  “Hey,” Devyn said. That stung. “Whose side are you on anyway?”

  Allie didn’t hesitate to say, “Yours. Always yours. Never doubt that.” She folded both arms and rested them on the island. “But you have a habit of striking out when you feel cornered or threatened. What I don’t think you understand is that Beau’s not a threat to you.”

  “How do you know?” Devyn asked, because deep down, she felt threatened and her instincts had never led her astray. “Nothing’s changed.” When Allie took a breath to argue, Devyn cut her off. “All right, so maybe Beau’s changed. Maybe he’s a new man with good intentions. But the curse is still the same. It’s only a matter of time before he screws me over again, because that’s what Dumont men do.”