by Olivia Chase
Harper, who had her mouth open—probably to order—clamps it shut. Marti just watches us with interest.
“I’m working here now,” Zack says easily.
I can’t help but stare at him. My God, it’s so good to see him again. My eyes soak in the sight. His full lips. His piercing eyes. His muscled physique that responded so much to my touch. That hair that begs for my fingers to run through it. His smooth jawline that I want to kiss, the way I have before in the thick of sex.
I suck in a shaky breath. Nod. I don’t know what to think.
How is this happening?
Harper, seeming to detect the awkwardness, says to Zack, “Um, can we place an order?”
“Of course.” Zack switches to a professional persona and grabs a pad of paper from his jeans back pocket. He jots down our orders, to which Marti adds two more appetizers and a round of shots. Then, he leaves.
“Wow,” Harper says when he’s left the table. “Okay, you never mentioned that the guy was that smoking hot.”
“How did you know that was Zack?” My face is burning hot, and pressing my chilled hands to my skin isn’t helping.
“Um…because you looked like you saw a ghost, and then when he came over, the sexual tension was off the freaking charts.” Harper shakes her head as if confused by my sudden brain dead attitude.
I try my best to not look at Zack, but it’s like he’s my true north…my gaze is fixed on him, magnetic, compelled. I watch him put in the order behind the bar.
Now he’s laughing with Jax—he’s joking with them now, despite trashing their bar before?—and bus tables, smile at customers.
Who is this man?
I don’t know what to think. I’m confused. I’m conflicted.
I’m so in love that my chest physically hurts.
Damn him.
Damn him for confusing me, for throwing a wrench in my life just when I thought I was ready to start healing. When I told myself that I needed to get over him, finally, after weeks of hurting over how he was, over the bad things he did. I thought I’d labeled him and accepted that I need to move past him. He was a bad man, case closed.
How could he do this to me?
Harper and Marti are chatting with each other. I can’t quite pay attention. Probably because I’m so busy staring at Zack, my body and my gaze starved for him.
My heart aches so much that it’s a painful throb in my chest.
I can’t keep my feelings in anymore. I want to cry so badly, and my eyes burn like crazy. I miss him. I need him. I am so mad at him. He hurt me deeply, and here he is, all sexy and smiling and moving on, and I’m still stuck struggling with the damage of us falling apart.
“Excuse me,” I finally say to Harper and Marti when the tears are about to overflow. I stand from the table.
“You okay?” Harper asks.
I can’t answer her. I push through the crowd of people toward the front door. I need air. I need space. I need to figure out how I can go home, because I can’t stay here. Not when he’s working. Not when I wasn’t ready for this. But how could I ever have been prepared for him?
I’m in love with Zack. And it’s hopeless. He has my heart, and I’ll never get it back.
I’m almost to the front door when a firm, warm hand grabs mine and pulls me backward. “Autumn.” That voice, Zack speaking my name, shatters the last of my walls. “Don’t leave. I need to talk to you.”
I spin around and say with a broken sob to him, “Let me go. Please.” But then I see his eyes, and my tears dry up. I can’t speak.
There’s no wall between us. Not anymore, not like there used to be when he’d keep himself so calm and collected, not showing his real feelings.
I see the emotion pouring from him, so bold, so unashamed. I see the way he’s looking at me, like I’m someone important to him. Like I matter.
He’s looking at me like a man in love.
“Autumn,” Zack says quieter. “You’re here. I never expected you to come into the bar.”
He moves closer, so close that I can feel his warm breath on my cheek. So close that I can smell him, and my entire body aches to touch him.
“I didn’t know you would be, either,” I admit.
“Does any part of you…” He pauses, sucks in a breath. “Autumn, I fucked up. I know I was wrong. I wanted to explain that to you before.”
I’ve never seen him this vulnerable before. He’s so uncertain, so not his usual confident and flirty self. People are talking around us, but it’s just background noise to me. All I can focus on is him. His face. His mouth. His eyes.
“Why are you at Outlaws?” I ask bluntly. I need to know.
He takes a moment, squares his shoulders. “At first? Because of court service. I was assigned to work here in lieu of serving time.”
My heart sinks. “Oh. I see.”
“But now, I’m working here for real. I’ve had a chance to be around my cousins more over the last couple of weeks. I understand them better and what their purpose is with this bar.” He takes a breath. “I’m out of the business with my dad, Autumn. I want to be an honest man, someone who earns money legit. I want to be a man who could deserve you. If you would have me.”
My heart is hammering so hard that I’m pretty sure everyone in the restaurant can hear it. Does he mean it?
Can I possibly risk believing it?
Zack digs into his pocket, procuring a small box. Then he drops to his knee, staring up at me with hesitant hope.
The bar, apparently watching us more than I realized they were, goes quiet around the two of us. All I can hear are soft voices whispering. I feel the heat of dozens of gazes on us.
“Autumn Douglas.” Zack pops the box open, and there’s a princess-cut diamond ring inside.
I start to cry, tears streaming down my face, and I clap my hands over my mouth. Oh my God.
“I bought this ring weeks ago,” he says. I can see the emotion in his eyes. The weight of what he’s feeling. The depth of his love. It steals my breath, keeps me quiet as he speaks. “I’ve carried this ring with me every day since then. I know it’s crazy, impulsive, but I couldn’t resist the thought of one day proposing to the woman I love. Keeping it on me motivated me to focus on what really matters. And now, I’m being even crazier, and I’m risking rejection in front of all these people.” He gives me a wry grin. “But I swear to you, Autumn—” he takes my left hand, which is trembling, “—I will never disappoint you again. I’ll be the man you deserve. If you’ll have me, that is. You made me realize that I want to be someone honorable. But if you’ll have me, I want to be your husband and love you for the rest of my life. I am so in love with you, princess. You’ve changed me permanently. What do you say? Will you be my wife forever and ever?”
There’s a collective hush as everyone waits for my answer. I can feel them all staring at me, and my cheeks burn.
Zack. The man who turned my life upside down, who made so many mistakes but has strived to change himself. Not just for me, but to be a better person.
And as crazy as this love is, I’ve accepted that I do love him. For all the good and bad of who he is, all of the scars.
I can see that deep down, at the core, he is a truly good man. He’s working to better himself.
And I’m not going to run away from the truth anymore.
I close my eyes and take a breath. “Yes.”
The entire place erupts in applause and cheers. And then he’s standing up and Zack’s mouth is on mine, his hands wrapped around my waist, and I feel like I’ve found my home in his arms. I’m sobbing, unable to control my emotions, as he pulls back and puts the engagement ring on my finger. Then he kisses me deeply, bending me over so far that people start wolf whistling.
“I fucking missed you, princess,” he says against my mouth. “Don’t leave me ever again. Please.”
“I promise,” I say, kissing him back, burying my hands in his hair. We kiss and we kiss, and he doesn’t seem to mind that my tears are
mingling on our lips.
After a couple of minutes, we part, breathless, mouths swollen. Zack takes my hand and threads his fingers in mine. I can’t stop staring at him, smiling. My face hurts.
Oh my God, I’m engaged.
I’m marrying Zack.
The crowd’s enthusiasm eventually dies down, as folks get back to their own business. Zack moves toward me again, his body pressed against mine. “I promise to be the husband you deserve,” he whispers against my lips. “I love you so fucking much.”
“I love you too,” I say.
And then we’re surrounded by three beefy men who are squeezing us hard.
“Holy fuck, congrats,” I hear someone say. I pull back and realize it’s one of Zack’s cousins.
Zack rolls his eyes. “Thanks, Jax. Do we get free drinks to celebrate?”
Smith growls. “Fuck no. You haven’t earned those yet.” He winks at me. “But she has.”
Zack sighs. “You guys suck.”
I laugh. I can see that the tension that must have existed between them has eased a lot. That they trust him. And if they can trust him, surely I can too.
Zack wants to do better with his life. I can support him in that. I can be there to encourage him to make good decisions. And just as I can do that for him, he can help me. Keep me from being too uptight. Help me find pleasure in the world around me.
In the way he can make me feel.
“Love can make you change,” the youngest Beckett brother says, clapping Zack on the back. “Welcome to the club.”
Zack laughs, and then we all start to laugh.
“A round of shots for everyone!” Jax declares.
“We can’t fucking afford free drinks asshole,” Smith says under his breath at Jax. But he has a smile on his face as the whole bar erupts in more cheers.
“What’s your favorite shot?” Zack asks me.
“I like Sex on the Beach,” I say coyly with a wink.
“My God, I love you.” He takes my mouth in a searing kiss, and the other Becketts go to pour shots for the bar in celebration of our engagement.
Christmas comes and goes. I brought Zack to meet my parents. While they aren’t sure at first what to make of this burly, tattooed man, they warmed up to him when they saw how affectionate he was to me.
Mom pulled me aside before dessert. “Honey. I can tell you’re happy, and I don’t want to naysay. But…are you sure about this? You haven’t known him that long. I’m just worried about you being okay and not getting hurt.”
I hugged her. I knew she was worried. Because if you looked at it from her point of view, of course it seemed crazy. But the thing was, it felt right to me. I loved him. “We want to wait until the fall to get married. Give our families time to know each other and for us to get settled. It’s important that we’re happy.” I paused and looked at her. “He cares a lot about you guys feeling comfortable. And he wants more time for us to all be together.”
“Well, I guess I can’t disagree with that,” she said.
I had told her how we met, because I didn’t want to lie to her. Even though I was starting to know my birth parents, they couldn’t ever replace my mom and dad, who were there for me from the beginning.
I explained to her all the complex feelings I had. How I was worried about them judging me for wanting any kind of relationship with my prisoner father. But instead, she had hugged me, told me she loved me and supported me.
I looked at her and said, “I was placed with the mom and dad who were best for me.” And that had made her tear up. She promised to give Zack a chance, despite his background, knowing that I was genuinely in love with him.
Early in the beginning of the year, on a Saturday morning, I get a call on my cell that I don’t recognize. I reach over to my bedside table and grab my cell phone.
Zack is caressing my ass, and I shoot him a mock glare, which just makes him start squeezing my butt harder.
“Hello?” I say in the phone with a husky morning voice.
“Miss Douglas?”
“Yes?” Zack doesn’t relent in his touch, and I squirm and fight back a giggle.
“This is Leo Kandinsky’s mom. Hi.”
My eyes widen, and I cup my hand over the receiver. “Hold on, baby,” I whisper to Zack. “I need one moment, please.”
He grins and moves his hands to sliding across my back. I melt against him and the warm sensation, then give him a smile of thanks.
“Yes, hi, how can I help you?” I ask her.
“I know it’s…unorthodox to call you. Especially outside of school. But I just wanted to let you know that I’m so appreciative of your efforts with my son.” Her voice breaks. “I’ve seen a difference in how he is at home, and I know it’s because of you and your work with him at school.”
I sit up, the sheets falling to my waist, and suck in a breath. My heart is slamming against my ribcage. I don’t know what to say. The fact is, I’ve already started applying at other schools…but he’s the one I feel guiltiest about leaving behind. But the school won’t let me help him the way I think works best. And the charter school I applied to interviewed me and told me yesterday they want to hire me, starting in the fall.
So I try to explain that to Leo’s mom.
“I wondered,” she finally says with a light chuckle. “I asked them for consideration on a more flexible education plan, but they were…resistant, let’s say.”
“I’m so sorry.” The anger flares in me anew. He deserves better than that. He’s a special child.
“Would you mind…sending me information about the school you’re going to?” she asks. “I know he wouldn’t be in your class next year, but I want him to have the best education possible.”
I bite my lower lip. “I’d be happy to. Just email me, and we can talk about his options. I want the best for him too. I believe he has the potential for greatness.”
Zack’s hand stills on my back. I can feel him watching me. I swallow hard. I love my job. Teaching is my passion.
Leo’s mom is quiet for a moment. When she speaks, her voice is thick with tears. “You are a gift,” she finally says. “You have no idea how much this means to us.”
“And you have no idea how much this means to me,” I say, just as thickly. I look at Zack, lying on my bed, so much warmth and love in his eyes.
My life is so blessed.
Zack
Autumn and Claire both squeal at the same time when the killer steps out of the dark hallway, knife glinting, as the horror movie we’re watching kicks into high gear.
I shoot Jamison a smirk over Autumn’s head, which is matched by the one on his face, and he snuggles Claire closer in his arms from their spot on their love seat. Good idea. I take the opportunity to tug Autumn’s delectable body closer to mine.
“Oh God, oh God,” Autumn whispers, covering her hands and peeking through her fingers. “She doesn’t even know he’s there.”
I scoot closer to her on the couch and brush my lips against her ear. “I thought you weren’t scared of horror movies, princess. Sounds like someone fibbed.” Finally, we’re watching the movie that we weren’t able to finish on our first date. It’s out on DVD, and since Autumn wanted us to have a low-key Valentine’s Day, I suggested watching a movie with Jamison and Claire at their place.
Autumn elbows me without looking away from the flat-screen TV. “I have a healthy love—and fear—of good ones,” she says primly. “I never said they didn’t make me afraid, you ass.”
“You’re going to pay for that comment later with a spanking, princess,” I promise her in a heated tone. After the movie is over, she and I are having dinner at our apartment, followed by hours of delicious sex.
Maybe the sex will come first though. I’m fucking aching to be inside her. Can’t get enough of it. Even something as innocent as watching a movie beside her gets me aroused for her.
Autumn drops her hands to take mine and looks over at me. I can see my own desire reflected in her rich brown ey
es. “You promise?” Hearing that question come out of her sweet little mouth makes me hard as hell.
“Gotta go,” I declare to Jamison, starting to stand.
Autumn gasps a laugh and grabs my hand, tugging me back down. “Oh, no you don’t. I didn’t get a chance to finish it before. I want to see the end.”
We watch the rest of the movie, which feels like it takes way too long to wrap up, though it’s probably just my impatience making it seem that way. Autumn and Claire hug, making plans to have lunch, while Jamo and I stand there waiting for our women to separate so we can get them alone and then ravage the hell out of them.
Then finally, thank fuck, we’re in my car on the way home. I can’t keep my hand off her thigh, as she’s clad in the tightest, sexiest pair of jeans I’ve ever seen. Her soft moans from my touch just spur me on more.
“How badly do you need to be fucked, princess?” I ask her bluntly. I reach between her legs and stroke her warm cunt through her jeans.
“God, I need it,” she manages to say, writhing against my searching fingers. “Please.” I love the way she begs without shame, just with raw need.
I flick open her jeans and shove my hand inside her panties, my palm rubbing her mound. “Oh, my dirty slut is already soaked,” I say with a smirk as I rub my hand on her wet slit. There isn’t much room to maneuver. But I never was one to turn down a challenge.
I’m going to make her come before we get home.
“Touch your breasts,” I tell her.
Autumn sucks in a shaky breath and then lifts one hand to caress the underside of her tit.
“Not that way.” I manage to get my middle finger nestled deep into her cunt, and she bucks against my hand, her breathing growing ragged. “Lift up your shirt and shove that bra down. Expose those beautiful breasts for me.”
My demands, so dirty, seem to shudder through her. More of her delicious cream coats my fingers. She swallows, then lifts her shirt and flicks down the lacy cups of her bra, her nipples rock-hard, breasts tight.