by Karen Booth
Out on the sidewalk after their meal, the four walked over to Broadway so Ben and Deb could get back to their hotel.
“You guys know where you’re going, right?” Lela asked.
Ben pointed east. “Two blocks that way, two blocks up, south side of the street.”
“You got it,” Lela said.
“Will you see that she gets home safely?” Ben asked Donovan.
“Oh, no. Dad. It’s fine,” Lela said. “Donovan’s apartment is in the opposite direction from mine.”
“I’d like to walk you, Lela. If you’re okay with it.”
Their gazes connected and she smiled. “Sure. It’s a beautiful night.”
“It definitely is.” Donovan gave Deb a hug, then went to shake hands with Lela’s father—but Ben was having none of that, pulling him into a bear hug.
“Donovan, I hope we can see you again the next time we come to town.” Ben playfully slugged Donovan on the arm.
“Count me in.”
Lela opened her arms wide. “Bye, Mom. Bye, Dad. I love you.”
“We love you, too, sweetheart,” Deb said.
Donovan watched as this happy family unit exchanged a teary, and lengthy, goodbye, which was eventually put to a stop when Lela wrenched herself from the embrace. “Bye.”
Deb and Ben toddled off across the street, shopping bags in tow.
“Ready?” Donovan asked.
“Yep.”
They headed off to Lela’s. “Your parents are great, Lela. So nice. I really like them a lot.” It was funny that he and Lela were so alike and yet their parental lot in life could not have been any more different.
“Oh, my God. My dad is in love with you. I could see it in his eyes. When you two started talking about music from the seventies? Mom and I nearly left you two at the table.”
Donovan laughed, feeling so drawn to Lela it was like a drug. When they turned on to her street, he was almost disappointed she didn’t have a fan or two waiting for her. It would’ve given him the easiest of excuses to see her inside.
“Do you want to come in for a drink?” she asked.
The sense of relief he felt was immense. He didn’t need to invent a reason to be alone with her. “I’d love to.”
They climbed the stairs and Lela keyed her way inside. The light in the foyer was on, making it easy to spot Rio as he padded down the stairs, voicing his displeasure at Lela’s absence. She unbuckled her sandals while Donovan toed off his shoes.
“Come on, buddy,” she said to Rio as she flipped on the hall light, then started off for the back of the house. “Let’s get you fed.”
Donovan trailed behind them to the kitchen, watching as Lela filled Rio’s bowl.
“What do you want to drink?” she asked.
He couldn’t think of a single beverage, alcoholic or not, that was going to satisfy what he was feeling right now, what he’d been feeling for the last several hours. What he’d been feeling for the last two months. Or three years. Or thirty.
“I don’t want a drink,” he answered.
“Water?”
“No, thank you.”
She turned and shot him a quizzical look. “Okay… then what do you want?”
He couldn’t take it. A million answers flooded his brain, all of them having to do with her. He wanted to touch her and kiss her. He wanted to take her upstairs. He longed to finally spill the sappy, lovelorn contents of his head and heart. Let them leak out all over the floor, then hope for the best.
“Lela, I don’t want to be friends anymore.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Lela had imagined Donovan saying many things to her, but she never thought he’d say he no longer wanted to be friends. “You’re breaking up our friendship?”
“Our friendship is one of the best things that has ever happened to me. So, no.”
“Then what?”
He reached for her, taking her hand. He rubbed her knuckles with his thumb, back and forth, like he was marking the time he needed to think. It made tingles run up her arm, and heat bloom in her chest. “Do you remember the day we met?”
“Of course. Art history. You asked for my notes because you kept falling asleep during the lecture.” It was a miracle she’d managed to write down anything at all. The view of Donovan, even when only in profile, and in a pitch-dark room, was still so enthralling that she’d had a hard time looking away.
“In my defense, no one should put a college student in a dark classroom and show them slides of renaissance art at eight o’clock in the morning.”
Lela laughed, remembering how much time Donovan spent trying to hold up his head. “Fair enough.”
“We talked after class, then I walked you to your dorm and we hit it off.”
She wasn’t sure where he was going with this, but these happy memories of the time when everything was shiny and brand new, yet somehow familiar, made her smile. “I remember.”
“I felt like something inside me was being fed for the first time. I’d never known someone who understood me from the beginning. It was like we were picking up a conversation that had been going for years. You understood where I was coming from, what I was thinking, and why.”
“I felt the same way, Donovan. I always have.”
“It was so great. Then everything changed.”
“Well, yeah… we’ve talked about this.”
“I sometimes wonder what would’ve happened if we’d never had sex.”
The tingles he’d given her moments ago turned into something else—a prickly realization. How would she have felt if that had never happened? “I think we would’ve always sensed we had unfinished business.”
“But I still feel that way.”
Yes. She felt that way, too. It was this thing that loomed over her day and night. It permeated every conversation they had, even when they were looking at spreadsheets. But it wasn’t just sex or getting to see Donovan naked. It was that unfinished business part. Like there was an ellipsis at the end of their relationship… Something was waiting. “I do, too.”
“It’s like there’s an unwritten chapter between us. Maybe more.”
The tingles raced back. They frantically buzzed around her body. They procreated and had tingle babies. “Careful, Donovan. That sounds romantic and sappy.”
“Good.” He threaded both hands into her hair, curling his fingers at her nape and lifting her lips to his. The kiss was so soft and tentative at first that it stole her breath and made it hard to stand. This was not a kiss he took lightly. This was serious business. It was time for her to take note. And she did. Every inch of her did.
And just like that, it felt like she was tumbling forward. Their mouths opened, heads slanted, tongues swirled, deep and passionate. She wrapped her arms around him and clawed at his back, arching into him. Any doubt she’d ever felt the other times they’d kissed showed no sign of life. All that was standing between Donovan and her was heat and need and too many clothes.
And one thing that needed to be said. “You’d better be sure about this.” Her eyes fluttered shut when he kissed her neck, momentarily putting her off track. “Because if you leave, I will hunt you down and murder you in your sleep.”
“I won’t leave. I’m not going anywhere. I promise.” He switched to the other side of her neck, pressing his lips against the most sensitive spot beneath her ear. It made her insides wobble.
“Well, I hope we’re going somewhere. I hope we’re going upstairs.”
“God, yes. Please.”
Lela held on to his hand tightly and led him out of the kitchen and down the hall. Adorably, he shut off each light switch they passed. Click. Click. Who knew that being environmentally conscientious could be so sexy? Up the stairs they went, without a word, she first and he behind. As soon as she stepped onto the landing, she turned and tugged him into her room with their fingers twined. Once inside, he made the same move he had downstairs, hands gripping her neck, possessively claiming a kiss with every bit of urgenc
y she ever could have hoped for from him.
She wanted to counter his enthusiasm. Match him. So she kissed him harder and pushed on his shoulders until they stumbled together and with a thud, his back landed against the wall. He broke their kiss and looked at her like she’d just set him on fire. He groaned his approval and reached down for her leg, palming her thigh as she braced her knee against the wall. He pulled the straps of her dress down her shoulders, then went for the zipper.
“Buttons. In the front,” she said.
“Got it.” It became Donovan’s turn to do the pushing, and he walked her backward across her room until her calves met the bed. He dropped to his knees and looked up at her with more adoration than she’d ever seen from any man, ever. The times she’d dreamed about him looking at her like that… they were too numerous to count. He kissed her belly through the dress, gripped her hips with his hands, then one by one, popped the buttons down the front of her dress. It only took a few until it dropped to the floor and she was standing before him, not feeling as vulnerable as the other times. Heat and blood coursed through her as he unhooked her bra and cupped her breasts with his hands. When his lips found her nipples, her eyes clamped shut as she soaked up the sensations of his warm tongue against her taut skin. Everything about this felt right in a way it hadn’t before. They’d earned this. Tiny step by tiny step. Falter and all.
Donovan stood and Lela climbed on to the bed. On her knees, she rocked back and forth to get her balance, untucking his shirt and waging her own personal war against buttons. Finally, she had the chance to spread her hands across the expanse of his glorious chest. She kissed his shoulder, then across his pecs, while her fingers traced the length of his arms, from his biceps to his wrists. Her hands went to his belt, the metal clattered, then a pop of the button on his jeans. She gazed up into his eyes, drawing down the zipper and slipping her hand inside the front of his boxers.
She loved seeing that expression on his face, the one that said she could keep her fingers wrapped around him forever and he’d never grow tired. The tension in his skin tightened with every pass of her hand until finally he groaned and pushed her back on the bed. Lela stretched out, her breasts full and heavy, and a fire between her legs. She needed him. She needed him to touch every delicate spot on her body. Every inch that only made her want him more.
He shucked his jeans and boxers, planted a knee on the bed, then tugged her panties past her hips and tossed them on the floor. She was about to remind him where the condoms were when he spread her legs apart and parked himself between them. It wasn’t like she was super concerned with pregnancy. It was only a remote possibility at this point in her life, but for now, where he was headed, no birth control was necessary. He glazed his mouth along her inner thigh with wet kisses while the scratchiness of his facial hair left a lingering burn. Every step closer to her center drove her a little more wild, but he was teasing her, too, drawing out the anticipation when he switched to her other leg and started again at her knee.
When he settled his head between her legs, Lela arched her back if only to fight the buck of her hips. The tip of his tongue circled and dammit, she might have to start calling him Johnny-on-the-spot. Her thighs quivered, her knees fell farther apart and she closed her eyes, digging her fingers into his thick hair and drawing breaths in through her nose. For a split second she wondered where he’d been all her life, but she knew the answer—for most of it, he’d been out there, walking around just as aimless as she’d been. But thinking about the past wasn’t going to be part of tonight. Not now.
As the pressure coiled, low in her belly and at the tops of her thighs, she realized that she didn’t want this to be a one-woman show, even if it was only the opening act. So, she tapped him on the head.
He popped right up, half of his hair hanging in his eyes. “Yes?”
She wanted to laugh. And smile. And have more of him. “You are amazing. But I want all of you.”
A heart-melting grin crossed his face. “Okay, then. Condom?”
“Just to be safe. Yes.”
She rolled to her stomach, scooted across the mattress so she could open the bedside table and grab the box. Donovan climbed up on the bed, kissing the small of her back then following the chain of her spine. When he got to her neck, he pulled her hair aside, dotting her skin with his soft lips. She eased to her back and handed him the packet. He tore it open, handed the condom to her, then it was his turn to stretch out on his back. She figured out his plan and rolled it on him, then shifted to her knees and straddled his hips. Taking him in her hand, she guided him inside. As she sank down, she studied the look on his face. Every little happy twitch of his lips or flutter of his eyelids reflected what she was feeling—pleasure, relief, and anticipation. She lowered her upper body until her stomach rested on his and her breasts rubbed against his chest. Her elbows went on either side of his head and she kissed him deeply again as they moved together.
She’d already been so close before that this felt like it might be a quick trip, no matter how slowly they were taking things. Donovan raked his fingers up and down her back, and she ground her center against him, feeling every subtle move he made to please her. And all the while, her mind was a happy place, where nothing less than pure contentment lived.
The pressure was building, quickly approaching, and the second she hit the wall, the rhapsody started. Angels sang. There were golden harps and cherubs. Donovan knocked his head back on the pillow and his entire body froze beneath her. His breaths were short and choppy and desperate, slowly growing longer like satisfied sighs of relief.
She collapsed at his side and curled into him, burying her face in his chest and drinking in his smell. She loved having him at her house. In her bed. In her life.
“Everything okay?” he asked.
“So much better than okay.”
He let out a breathy laugh and kissed her forehead. “That was great.”
“I like not being friends.”
She heard the dreamy quality of her own voice, felt the way contentment was threatening to turn her into a big old truth-teller again. Easy, Lela. Easy. She needed to spend some time living with her feelings before she put a label on them, and definitely before she let them spill from her mouth. She’d made the mistake of making love-laced confessions to Donovan in a post-orgasm haze before. She wasn’t going to make it again.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Donovan hated going back on a promise, especially to Lela. Unfortunately, there was nothing he could do about it. He didn’t see a way out of his familial obligations. He also didn’t really want an out. His mom needed him.
He walked over to Lela’s bed and sat on the edge of the mattress, gently caressing her shoulder. Early morning strains of sun were streaming through the windows, casting beams across the hardwood floor and Lela in a soft glow.
“Good morning,” she murmured.
“Good morning.” He watched as she cracked open one eye then witnessed the split-second when she realized he was dressed.
She bolted out of bed, naked as the day she was born. “No. You are not doing this.” She grabbed a pillow and disappointingly shielded her body from view. “You’re leaving?”
“Shh. It’s okay. Please. Sit down. We need to talk.”
“What now?” Lela asked in a heartrending tone. Donovan couldn’t blame her. She’d probably been expecting the worst of him, and from all available visual evidence, that was exactly what he was delivering.
“Just sit.”
Lela crawled back under the covers, sitting with her back against the headboard and the sheet pulled up to her chin.
“You don’t have to hide from me,” he said.
“I’m not. I’m protecting myself. What in the hell is going on?”
“I got a call from Stuart…”
Her eyes narrowed. “In accounting?”
“No. My mom’s boyfriend. Remember? From the wedding?”
“Oh. Right. What did he say?”
&nb
sp; “I got up to pee this morning and I saw a voicemail from him on my phone from last night. My mom is sick, Lela. She has breast cancer and she’s been hiding it from everyone. Including Stuart.”
“Oh, my God.” Lela reached for him. He took her hand as if it was the only lifeline he had. In so many ways, it felt like that was the case. “I’m so sorry. What’s the prognosis?”
“I don’t know exactly, but she has surgery scheduled for tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow? How was she going to hide that from Stuart?”
“She tried to send him off on a fishing trip. He canceled at the last minute. He said it didn’t feel right. Then he happened to answer the phone when the doctor’s office called to confirm.” Like so many things with his mom, he was presented with yet another mystery. Why wouldn’t she have simply told Donovan and Austin what was going on? Or Stuart, for that matter? It wasn’t as if she’d ever shied away from uncomfortable subjects. Instead, she’d lied to Donovan’s face at her granddaughter’s wedding. She’d lied to Austin and Stuart as well. “I feel like I need to be up there. It’s not really fair to Stuart to have to care for her. She’ll be in the hospital for a few days, then she’ll go home to recuperate. Once I know she’s good, I’ll come back.”
“How long do you think? Tammera and Delia’s wedding is a week from Saturday. Not that you have to feel like you should come. You should do whatever you need to do for your mom.”
“I plan to be back for their wedding. I want to be there. I want to be there with you.” He rubbed his thumb back and forth over her smooth skin. Why did the timing have to play out this way? Why couldn’t he and Lela enjoy a small stretch of happiness?
She gave him a smile that sent his pulse racing. “Good. I’m happy to hear that.”