Dogs know.
A knock rattled me from a deep sleep. Checking for a car, I smiled when I saw Jason’s rental car. I checked my watch. He was early.
I opened the door for him and smelled the delicious coffee he was toting. “Hey, good morning.”
“Did you just get in from a run?”
“A short while ago. I need to grab a shower before I start baking. Make yourself comfortable.” I headed to my bedroom and yelled back to him, “Please preheat the oven to 325. Thanks.”
The way his presence made me comfortable so quickly, left me curious about my true feelings for him.
A few minutes later, I returned to the kitchen fresh-faced in a pair of shorts, a tank top, and my hair pulled into a ponytail, ready to bake cookies. I found him drinking coffee and reading the newspaper. Like a champ, he’d turned the oven on.
He stood and walked past me. “Come here?” he asked, turning with an extended hand.
“What?” I was completely unaware of what he wanted, but I put my hand in his.
Hastily, he took me to my bedroom, and I shook my head. “No. We discussed this.”
“Do you trust me?” It was an odd question because I barely knew him, yet the answer was as plain to me as allowing him in my home with my son.
“Yes.”
“Get your vibrator out.”
“Jason.”
“Do it and go put a pair of tight jeans on.” Now, he was getting creepy. What in the world did he have in mind?
Opening the drawer, I tossed my vibrator on the bed and went to put a pair of jeans on. With my weight loss, I didn’t have a pair that was extremely tight, so I picked a pair that hugged my hips the best.
When I walked out of the bathroom, he was sitting on the bed waiting for me. “I’m not going to touch you like you think. You’re so stressed I can see it all over your body. I figure it’s been weeks since you’ve had an orgasm, so we’re going to rectify the situation right now.”
“We? As in you and me?”
“Yes, come here.” He reached for me, and when I gave him my hand, he yanked me down on the bed in a playful manner.
Before I could really grasp what was going on, he was spooning me on top of the covers with one hand wrapped around my waist, resting on my stomach and the other holding my vibrating play toy against the crotch of my jeans.
With a heavy breath, he whispered in my ear very slowly in a deep voice, “Doesn’t matter who or what you think about right now, just feel the friction. Let your thoughts go wild and imagine letting yourself go.”
After a few minutes, I came apart in his arms. The climax ripped through me as the vibrator stimulated me through my jeans. I never shared with him what I’d thought about, but the moment was something completely and utterly unbelievable. He didn’t kiss me or touch me in any way I felt inappropriate, yet it was sexy as sin.
Without another word, I disappeared into the bathroom and washed my face. After changing my clothes, I opened the door. He wasn’t there. The bed was straightened, and there was no sign of my vibrator.
Returning to the kitchen, he pretended to read the newspaper, but the smile on his face expressed complete satisfaction.
“Thank you,” I uttered with my head deep in my refrigerator, pulling out bags of cookie dough.
“My pleasure.”
“Hi, Mommy,” Ty squealed as he opened the door. “Whose car is that?” Such the inquisitive child, he noticed everything.
“We’re in the kitchen, making cookies for Izzy’s party tonight. Wanna help us?”
He rounded the corner by the bar and stared at Jason.
“This is Jason, a friend of Mommy’s through work. Can you come say hello the proper way?”
He walked up to Jason and stuck out his hand. “Ty Peterson.”
Jason tried to stifle his laugh and shook Ty’s hand. “Jason Stone. Pleased to meet you, Ty.”
“Don’t you love Mom’s cookies? I eat the dough when she’s not looking.”
Jason finally let out his laugh. “Ty, you need to learn now that moms are always looking. They have eyes everywhere.”
Ty giggled and ran off toward his room. “I’m going to get my football. Will you throw the ball with me, Mr. Jason?”
I smiled at their interaction. It was easy acceptance, and Jason nodded to me as if he was reading my mind. “Thank you,” I whispered.
He winked.
God, he was perfect, yet the wrong perfect for me.
“Mom, we’ll be back in a minute,” Ty hollered from the hall.
Jason exited the kitchen and followed my son to the playground.
With baked cookies in the trunk of his car, Jason escorted us to the engagement party early enough that I could assist the caterer and florist set up everything. Ty and Jason helped move chairs again with Mick and Brent. How many times can you arrange chairs? Seriously. Men.
“I say y’all move ‘em back to the way they were time before last,” I teased them.
“Shut up,” Brent cracked. “We’re big boys and it seems too tight in here for us to comfortably move around.”
Pointing to the first row, “Take out these four tables and then spread the rest out. There’s room in the storage building out back.”
It was quite the affair, and I had to agree with Isabella’s choice of the bistro location because it was spot on. The vintage style of the themed decor blended with the building perfectly, and the florist had made arrangements for all the light fixtures, which included suspended tea lights in mini mason jars. With champagne and Texas lemonade being served by flowing fountains on each end of the bar, no one was thirsty or hungry because there were also five food stations serving different tapas selections, including one of my favorites, filet mignon bruschetta.
The playlist included many genres of music, and the party lasted for several hours. Jason and I danced again and again, and the photographer took our photo numerous times, even some with Ty, which would be even more convincing.
Jason carried my sleeping little boy to my car and laid him down in the back seat.
“Thank you for an amazing evening.” I leaned against the hood. “Getting to know you these last few weeks and then…this week. How do I thank you?”
Jason reached forward and stroked the back of his fingers against my cheek. “Be happy, Chelsie. If Ian isn’t the man for you, don’t waste any more time in trying to make him into something he isn’t.”
He held me in his arms for a long time before kissing the top of my head and walking away.
On the drive home, I thought about what he’d said. Perhaps I’d made Ian out to be something he wasn’t capable of being.
Chapter Twenty-One
“Do you love him?” The recognizable voice echoed in the darkness of my bedroom, stalling my movements towards my bathroom.
“How did you—”
He covered my mouth with his, the taste of whiskey lingering.
Familiar. Wanting. Desiring.
Finally, I had the opportunity to kiss him back with the craving I’d carried around along with the heaviness of my burdens for so long.
Hard. Angry. Submitting.
Pushing away, I moved to turn on the light.
“Leave it off,” his tone commanded.
“What do you want with me?” I needed to hear him, needed him to man up, declare it, so we could move on. Label it for the both of us.
“I want you to…remember,” he said with a bit of sadness in his whisper.
“You think I don’t?” Hateful and snide, I wanted to strike out at him. “I remember. Every single fucking day, I remember.” I sank to my knees on the floor, broken and confused.
“I never said I’m sorry.” The touch of his hand on my shoulder was rough. Not the smooth skin I remembered from the past. I swung at him, connecting before he held my arm to my side.
Trembling, I formed my hands into fists ready to fight back. “Sorry?” Hard sobs escaped no matter how I tried to hold them back. I didn�
�t want to give him the pleasure. I wanted to be strong and commanding like he’d taught me. “That’s all you’ve got for me?”
Weak and emotional. That’s what loving him left me, yet I had no regrets.
“I’ve loved you with all my heart, Chelsie.”
“You could’ve fooled me. Your words were callous, cruel, and replaced everything of what love is supposed to feel like.”
His finger slid down the side of my face, and I leaned into his touch, my body so willing—desperate even, though my brain thought otherwise. He felt for the pins in my hair and pulled them out one by one as if he knew exactly where they were.
“Have you been…following me?” Anticipation of his answer left my body quickening.
Silence.
“Answer me.” Finally, I grew stiff and took the commanding role.
His body moved in closer behind me. I felt his breath on my shoulders bare from the strapless cocktail dress I still wore.
“Yes.”
It was enough to unwrap the imaginary razor wire around my heart and leave me defenseless. I’d sensed his presence and wasn’t wrong. “It was you in the black car at the boutique, and you, again later, parked down the street.” It wasn’t a question.
“Yes.”
“I’ve never known you to be a coward, so why now?”
His lips made contact with my neck. “I’ll never again be the man you once knew and loved. I’ve let you down.”
“I can’t argue with the letting down part, but for the rest, why couldn’t you allow me to be the judge? We wouldn’t have known the answer to that question without trying.”
There was complete silence, except for the deep breathing on both our parts.
I felt my hair being pulled to the side.
“I want to remember making love to you,” he whispered against my neck.
“I’ve never forgotten.” Was it easy for him to forget me? Our love? The sex? Our needs? The intensity?
“I crave to touch you.” The backs of his fingers left a heated trail wherever they touched me.
“I’m naked without your skin on mine.”
My arm was being pulled for me to stand. Suddenly, I was facing the wall, and his lips were close to my ear.
“You remember the rules. Tell me what you want. Direct me.”
God yes, I want this and more.
“Remove my dress. You’ll be excited to find me naked underneath.”
“Were you naked for him?” The bites were aggressive on my neck and shoulder as he pulled at the zipper of my dress. His hand drifted up and down my body.
Feeling. Remembering. Discovering.
“No.”
“You’re right, I’m very pleased to find you bare for me and only me.” His tone changed, deeper and coarser.
Gasps for air challenged me through an aroused fog. I tried to stay focused and recollect the way he’d trained me. “You remember what I like. Touch me, explore my folds softly.”
He did as I asked, and I came apart in his arms. Limp and completely sated, I felt my body being directed towards the bed. The sounds of clothing being shuffled and heavy breathing filled the room. My senses were on overload, but I didn’t miss the sound of his zipper.
God, yes, please give me what I crave.
He shoved my knees to my chest and entered me with one slow thrust. I felt every inch of his girth and length, just as I remembered. He continued to pull out and push back in to me, quickening his pace. The bed rocked with our movements, and the thought of us being caught flashed through my mind, but primal urges quickly superseded any moral compass at that point.
He took me hard until I was near my second climax. When he slowed his pace, I gripped his forearms. “No,” I groaned.
That’s when I felt the difference. There was something on his right arm. Something foreign. Hard like metal.
“Don’t touch me.” He pulled out of me. “Turn over, now.” His dominant attitude took complete charge.
“I thought I was directing this play?” I tried to tease, but we both knew there was a serious question looming, and he was avoiding it.
He waited for me to roll over. His breaths were loud, hard and almost labored. “God, what I’d give for a video of this to hold on to.”
My mercurial man wanting a keepsake, I would’ve easily said yes.
My channel was slick from my earlier orgasm and allowed him easy entry. My back arched at the delicious feeling of him inside me, rocking me toward ecstasy.
“Yes,” I moaned and pushed harder against him.
Orgasms can be slight, or they can be an over-the-top, toe-curling 7.0 on the Richter scale hanging-off-the-cliff kind of satisfaction, and this was one of those. I had to straighten out my leg to avoid the pending muscle strain in my calf, which caused us to tumble down on the bed. He laid me flat and continued to fuck me through the waves of satisfaction, taking me for his own pleasure.
When he collapsed on top of me breathing heavy, I never remembered feeling so sated in all my life. Not wanting to move, I passed out as he snuggled up behind me, holding me tight in his arms. To have him back with me again…incredible. His comfort…my peace at last.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Sunshine streamed through the cracks in my drapes, waking me. Smiling at a glorious summer day, I reached behind me to feel him, but the bed was empty, and the sheets were smooth. Shocked, I sat up and looked around, but there was no sign of him. Confused, I looked at my body. I was dressed in my usual pajamas—a red tank top and Hello Kitty boxers.
It was not a dream. It couldn’t have been.
I’d felt his skin. Inhaled his scent. Tasted his kiss.
Dashing from the bed, I ran to the closet to find my dress hanging up and my shoes on the top shelf.
“No,” I cried, slumping to the floor. “He was here. I know he was here. I’m not losing my mind,” I mumbled.
Uncertain of how long I was lying on the floor of my closet, I felt a touch. “Mommy, what’s wrong?” Ty rubbed my hair. “Mommy.”
Composure…gather it quickly for your son’s sake, if not for your own.
“I…um…stubbed my toe, and it hurt so bad for a minute, but I’m okay now. You know how that feels, don’t you, baby?”
“Don’t cry, Mommy. I’ll kiss it and make it all better.”
He didn’t even ask which one. He just kissed my big toe and gave me an awesome hug. I refused to allow my anxiety and crazy dreams to return and wreck how well he was doing.
But, how well was I doing? Perhaps it was time for a visit with a shrink. This wasn’t the first dream, but it was the most vivid.
“It’s Sunday. What are we doing after church?” I rubbed his head.
“Taking Yolo to the puppy park. Is Mr. Jason coming with us today?”
Shit. Another emotional roller coaster to sidestep.
I stood and followed him to the kitchen for breakfast. “Not today, he’s returning to his home in Tucson for a few weeks for work. I’m not sure what day he will be back. You liked him, didn’t you?”
“Yep.” He grabbed his cereal box from the panty while I got the bowls and milk. I wasn’t sure how to explain Jason’s disappearance, stringing it along seemed the best approach. It was another unplanned angle I hadn’t forecasted.
“Mom, look at Yolo.” He busted out in a glorious little giggle. “She’s got her leash in her mouth, ready to go.”
There she stood by the back door, waiting on us, holding the folded straps of leather between her teeth. How do pets know it’s time to do things? The way they remember intricate details always amazed me.
“Silly girl,” he said to her, rubbing her back.
Thinking about his words, I was the one who felt like such a silly girl. Make that too trusting, stupid, idiotic, naive, dewy eyed. Hell, I could go on. There were enough descriptions to indicate my gullible status I could’ve built a dam for the Trinity River.
After church, we changed into play clothes and stopped by to see baby
Samantha for a moment before loading Yolo into the car for fun at the dog park. There were other kids playing with their puppies, and Ty had a blast throwing Yolo’s favorite tennis balls as she retrieved them repeatedly.
“Do you come here often?” the lady sharing the bench with me inquired.
“For about a month now. I’m not sure which one of my kids loves it more, the one on two legs or four.”
We both laughed.
“You look familiar. I think I saw you in the neighborhood we just moved into on 5th Avenue?”
Shit. She bought Ian’s house. It was the only one for sale. Motionless, I stared forward at the play area, unaccepting of the news.
What did I think was happening with the truck…he’d moved back in?
“Ma’am, are you okay? I’m sorry. I’m not a stalker. I just thought you looked…”
Raising my right hand, I motioned an invisible white flag. “It’s okay. You bought Ian Briggs’ home?”
“Yes. Sad story about his accident. Losing the ability to do surgery and all.”
So, that’s what he couldn’t tell me? He thought I only loved him because he was a doctor…well, he was the bigger fucking idiot.
“I’m sorry, but Ty has a call with his dad in a few minutes, and we need to get home. I’m sure I’ll be seeing you around. Welcome to the neighborhood.”
Once again, the haunting of the past kept me from moving forward.
When would the madness stop?
Chapter Twenty-Three
With the opening of the Bistro happening in three weeks, I had plenty left to do on my checklist, and Isabella’s brain was half in and half out of business work because she was in deep wedding mode. Both of us were trying to cross off items on the agenda for the party, while Sabrina was double-checking orders with the food suppliers. With the three of us trying to work from one office, it had become a crazy environment, which raised my blood pressure or something, because I developed a headache that would not go away.
Complicated on 5th Avenue: 5th Avenue Romance Series, Book Two Page 12