All I Ever Wanted

by Marilyn Brant, Caisey Quinn, Rhonda Helms

  She moved a fraction closer to me and peered up into my eyes, her lips parting just a touch. Her tongue swiped across her upper lip. My heart gave a stuttering thud.

  Shit. What were we talking about? “Um…”

  “Your prize, Oliver. What do you want?” Puffs of air came out as a visual echo of her breathy tone.

  “I…don’t know. I hadn’t thought that far,” I admitted. I’d just been desperate to find something else to think about. Other than her eyes and perfect breasts and the swell of her lower lip.

  “Then I guess you can just let me know tonight. At the dance. You are coming, right?” Maya smiled again and nodded at the crowd as she grabbed another handful of candy then tossed it into the masses.

  “Um, I don’t know. Maybe…?” I hadn’t even thought about it, to tell the truth. Dances weren’t quite my thing. Yet I was suddenly filled with a desire to go. I could see Cohen and Everly’s band play. Hang with friends. Which, of course, included Maya. Because she was a friend.

  A good friend.

  A friend who was making me have very unfriendly thoughts about her.

  “I hope you’ll come,” she said in that breathy voice again before she leaned back and tugged her gloves higher up her arms.

  The float stopped. I glanced around and realized the parade was over. Holy crap, I’d zoned out and hadn’t paid any attention those last few minutes. Whoops.

  Maya grabbed my hand, cupped it between hers. Heat from her fingers singed into mine. “Thanks for letting me ride on the float with you,” she said, and the sincerity in her voice made my heart flutter. “This was a lot of fun.”

  She was right. It had been fun. Despite my awkwardness and hypersexual awareness of her, we’d laughed, joked. Made people happy. Way more fun than I would have had with Sami.

  Then her lips were pressing against my cheek, just to the right side of my mouth, and the breath was sucked out of my lungs in a flash of shock.

  She pulled back, our mouths a fraction apart, and slowly opened her lips a touch. “I hope to see you tonight, Oliver.” With that, she smiled and got off the float, parting the crowd in her crazy purple princess dress.

  I stared at her departing figure for far too long, fought the urge to replay in my mind how those lips had felt on my bare skin. She’d been so, so close to my mouth, and for one moment I’d been tempted to turn my head and taste her lips.

  I got off the float and made my way back home. People talked to me, but I didn’t hear much, gave noncommittal answers. Maya had never kissed me before. Yeah, we’d hugged. Sat beside each other. Even wrestled when we were younger.

  It hadn’t been more than a brush of her lips across my skin, but I swore I could still feel her mouth there.

  Shit. Everything was getting so damn complicated. Was I having these confusing thoughts about her because I knew how she felt? Or was my body finally just waking up and realizing there could be something there?

  And if it was the latter, did it even matter? After all, my life was going to be changing in a few months in a very, very drastic way. Something I hadn’t talked to anyone about yet, not even my parents. This wasn’t the time for me to start exploring a new relationship, much less with a person who had been a good family friend for years.

  Shit. I raked a hand through my hair and shoved the front door open. Should I go to the dance? Not go?

  I kicked off my boots then flopped down on the couch. Maybe a quick nap would help me find some clarity. God knew I needed the rest. I closed my eyes and fell asleep thinking about Maya’s smile.

  Maya

  I was not going to throw up. I was not going to throw up.

  Pushing aside the mad fluttering of nerves in my belly, I held the mascara wand up to my eye and stopped when I realized my hand was trembling. This was going to end up a hot mess, not to mention the potential loss of an eye when I stabbed it on accident.

  I sighed and dropped my hand as I peered into the mirror. Pull yourself together, I ordered my reflection. He might not even be there. He’d been noncommittal on the float about coming tonight. No sense freaking out about it now when I didn’t even know what was going to happen.

  This much I did know, though. There had been a couple of moments on the float where tension had practically crackled between us. When I’d leaned by him to wave at the people on his side of the street, I’d heard his sharp intake of breath, had caught his eyes darting to my chest before he looked away.

  I let that heady rush of feminine power fill me again. Oliver’s body had reacted to me. And when my mouth had brushed his cheek during that impulsive kiss—God, I still couldn’t believe I’d done that—there was that moment when we’d both breathed in the same air. It had been intimate.

  I ached to feel it again. That and more.

  It had been well worth the hour of freezing my butt off for the chance to sit beside him, laugh, talk, subtly flirt. For once in my life, I’d actually felt like a princess. And Oliver had been my prince.

  I snorted. Okay, not my princely brother, of course. But still, I’d felt special. Beautiful, even.

  My hand much steadier, I put on my mascara then took my time with the rest of my makeup. Bold red lips finished the look. I curled my hair and let it fall down my back. Slipped into my sexiest low-rise jeans and boots with a gold-threaded black off-the-shoulder shirt. I felt amazing.

  “Now or never,” I whispered to my reflection. “Go get your man.”

  My phone buzzed. I dug through my discarded clothes on my bed and found it. A text from Dad. Your mother will email you a grocery list ASAP. Please go tomorrow or Monday to pick up stuff. Thx.

  Emotionless and to the point as ever. I’m doing great, Dad, I thought. Thanks for asking. The all-too-familiar surge of bitterness welled in my chest, and I blinked. I was not going to ruin my makeup over this.

  Will do, I texted back then crammed my phone into my pocket. Still a half hour to go until the dance started. I straightened my room to kill a little time. Then I sucked in a deep, reassuring breath, donned my winter wear, and locked the front door behind me.

  The walk to the old barn didn’t take long. I could hear music already throbbing in its walls, spilling out through the rapidly opening and closing broad double doors. Lights were strung everywhere, giving the atmosphere a fun, warm glow.

  A hum of excitement tingled through my limbs. This was going to be so. Much. Fun. I couldn’t wait to see everyone.

  I entered the barn and saw the band on stage. Everly was right in the middle, dressed to kill in a black strapless cocktail dress and heels. Wow, she looked gorgeous. I was tempted to run over and say hi to her, ask her how she’d liked the pastries I’d left her and the band, but I could tell she was in her performance zone and I didn’t want to throw her off.

  I scanned the crowd. Lots of younger people, though clusters of adults lingered around the walls and at some tables. Even the Hales were here. I saw Sami near the band’s sound equipment and stepped forward to talk to her…and then realized she was standing awfully close to Alex, who began pointing things out on the sound board thingie. I stopped in my tracks, grinning wildly. Go get ‘im, girl. And when she did, she owed me a catch-up session about it. I was dying to know who he was and how they’d met.

  A song from the nineties started, with Everly singing her heart out, and I found myself swaying as I worked my way through the crowd to the refreshments table. I poured a glass of punch. Craig, a casual acquaintance of our group, waved me over as he dug a shiny metal flask out of his back pants pocket and wiggled it in the air.

  “That’s gentlemanly of you,” I said with a small, slightly uncomfortable laugh. Craig wasn’t an outright creeper to me, but he was overly flirty with the other girls sometimes.

  He poured a healthy dollop into my drink, and I swirled it around, careful not to spill any. “You look great, Maya,” he said. He raked his gaze over me boldly, pausing for a long moment to stare at my chest.

  My cheeks flushed. “Thanks.” Ok
ay, time to go now before buzzed Craig started acting on the look in his eye. I held the cup up in another silent thanks then made my way back into the thick of the masses.

  People were dancing on the floor, laughing, talking over each other. I took a big swig of my boozy drink and a warm flush crawled down my throat, spread across my chest. Maybe I should have asked Craig what the hell that was, because it sure was strong.

  A few minutes passed. Then another few. My relaxed sway became less and less flowing as realization dawned on me. Looked like he wasn’t coming. Despite my flirting on the float and what had seemed like a genuine response from him.

  I finished the last of my drink and slumped toward the large trash can in the corner. Well, that just plain sucked. Somehow I thought for sure he’d come. I gave a mirthless chuckle and dunked the cup in. And she scores! But not really, because Oliver was a total no-show. Fooled me, he had.

  Part of me wanted to stomp to his house, bang on his door, and demand he kiss me. But that might be just the booze talking. The rest of me suspected that idea would result in lifelong mortification when he soundly rejected me and sent my buzzed ass away. I pressed my palms to my flushed cheeks and watched the band for another few minutes.

  Maybe I should just go home. Kick off these boots, slip into my comfiest jammies, and watch an epic marathon of the BBC Pride & Prejudice. Mr. Darcy never disappointed me.

  I turned toward the door. Then stopped.

  Oliver was here.

  My heart stopped beating for a moment then picked up with a furious pace, galloping. Every stretch of vein in my body throbbed with awareness. Oh God, he was here.

  He’d come. My chance wasn’t over. A powerful surge of hope lifted my chest, filled my brain.

  Our eyes locked. He hung his coat then strolled toward me, his emotions indiscernible. I stood in place, unable to move, unable to breathe, oxygen locked in my grape-sized lungs.

  When he was about a foot away, he stopped and eyed me from head to toe. There was something unusual in the look, an intensity that surprised me. Oliver had never looked at me like that before. Like it was the first time he was really seeing me. I wasn’t quite sure how to feel about it.

  “You look really pretty,” he finally said.

  I swallowed, stuffed my shaking hands in my pockets. “Oh. Uh. Thanks.” God, I sounded like an idiot. Words, Maya—use them. “And you look great too.”

  Oliver had on a pair of dark-washed jeans and a dark grey sweater, sleeves shoved halfway up his strong forearms. The V-neck left that delicious dent under his throat exposed, and I found myself staring at it, wanting to lick it. My core fluttered in response to the thought of tasting his skin.

  He moved a step closer, then another. There were just a couple of inches between us now. Music vibrated around us, filled the air. Then his hand reached up and he caressed one of my curls.

  I froze.

  “I like it when you curl your hair,” he said in a husky tone. Given how loud the music was, I shouldn’t have been able to hear it, but every single square inch of my body, every single sense was focused on this man. If we’d been in the middle of a hurricane, I still would have heard the words.

  I licked my lips and struggled against the urge to lean toward him, ask him to kiss me. Just once. Just so I could sample him for myself.

  “Do you want to dance?” he asked before he took my hand and led me into the crowd.

  Oh, God. I was going to dance with Oliver. My body hummed with renewed excitement and a healthy dollop of fear from self-pressure. Don’t mess this up, I warned myself as I pasted on a huge smile. Just fake it ‘til you make it.

  The current song Everly’s band was playing was a slower one, so I lifted my arms and rested them on his shoulders. My fingers were so, so close to the back of his neck, and they practically twitched with the urge to touch him there. To see how soft his skin and hair really was.

  Oliver’s hands pressed against my sides and he drew me close. I sucked in a deep breath, getting a whiff of his rich cologne. My lower belly throbbed in response, and my mouth dried up. Our torsos touched and we swayed side to side.

  I wanted to close my eyes and rest against him. Press a thousand kisses along his throat, feel the flutter of his pulse beneath my lips. Restraining myself was so. Damn. Hard. Especially when he was right here, touching me, my nipples hardening from the sensation of our bodies being close. Could he sense my arousal?

  If so, he wasn’t saying a word about it. Wasn’t even looking at me, in fact—his gaze drifted to a vague spot over my shoulder.

  After a minute of us dancing in silence, I let myself inch just a touch closer to see how he’d react. To see if he’d even notice. When my breasts pressed harder against his chest, his hand slid down to the upper curve of my hip and tightened, and my heart jumped to my throat.

  He peered down at me—finally. Stared into my eyes. Cleared his throat. “Um, so how are you?”

  I almost laughed out loud. How was I? Turned on, distracted beyond belief, caught up in the feel of his hands burning their way through my clothes, searing my skin. One finger was doing some kind of an abstract swirling pattern on my hip, and I caught myself in time just before I began to rotate into the movement.

  “I’m…fine,” I finally said. I drew in a deep breath and exhaled softly. Just relax. Don’t read into it. The signs he was throwing me were all over the place; worst thing I could do right now was jump all over something, assuming it was an invitation when it wasn’t. “And you? How have you been?”

  “Fine.”

  “That’s great.”

  “Yeah.”

  We both stopped and then started to laugh. A little bit of tension eked from my chest.

  “Oliver,” I started to say then paused. Collected myself. Tried to not think so much with my hormones. Yes, I wanted him to see me as a sexual being. But sex didn’t equal love. I loved him, and I didn’t think I could settle for anything less than that, even if I could somehow worm my way into his bedroom.

  Sex was only a part of it.

  His thumb somehow worked its way across my bare flesh, right above my jeans, and my skin rippled in pleasure from the accidental contact.

  “Oh, sorry,” he said, moving his hand safely back over my clothes. A slash of a frown marred his brow.

  I bit back a frustrated sigh and scrabbled to think of something for us to talk about. Anything. Shit. Think, Maya. “Did you know Bree is going to Paris? Tomorrow, in fact? I guess her mom is moving out there and she’s joining her.” My throat tightened at the flash of pain I’d seen in Bree’s eyes when I’d talked to her at the Pancake Breakfast. She’d been so damn sure her mom would show up for Winterfest this year.

  “That’s…interesting,” Oliver finally said in an all-too-casual tone. “Maybe I’ll see her there.”

  Something tingled in my chest, an unpleasant sensation. “What do you mean?”

  “Well.” He drew his lips together for a moment and exhaled through his nose. I saw a flare of emotion in his eyes but I couldn’t quite pin it down. “I haven’t told anyone else yet. You’re the first. I’m…going to Paris next year. I got accepted into a culinary school so I can learn from the masters.”

  Even as my heart plummeted clear to my feet, I forced a wobbly smile to my face. “Oh. That’s great. I’m so glad to hear it—you’re a talented chef, Oliver.” I extracted myself from his embrace; pain wrapped around me in a thick blanket, and I could barely breathe. “Um, will you excuse me for a minute?”

  I blindly made my way through clusters of people to the barn’s double doors, not even bothering with my coat, and plunged into the chilly night air. A stiff breeze hit me square in the face and bare skin, making my eyes sting with more tears.

  Wrapping my arms around myself, I worked my way to the isolated side of the barn where the wind wasn’t blowing and let the gushing sobs out, just for a moment. And on the wave of that emotion came a healthy dose of guilt—here I was, selfishly upset that I was going
to lose Oliver when he was about to get the most wonderful chance of his life.

  I loved him, and it was blindly apparent that nothing would ever come of it. I loved him, and maybe I needed to let that love go.

  After a minute or so, the cold began to bite my skin, especially my bare shoulder. I sniffled, wiped my nose, wiped my eyes. Rubbed my arms and stomped my feet to draw warmth back into my limbs. A couple of teens worked their way to my side of the barn and lit up cigarettes.

  I was done with my little pity party. At least, for right now. Tonight I was going to shove back my own hurt feeling and be there for Oliver, my friend. I would ask him about Paris. Support him, encourage him. When I got home later, I’d have the full night to cry it out, hopefully start to work him out of my system.

  Yes, I had to acknowledge that it was over—but dammit, I’d tried.

  Oliver needed me right now. He trusted me, enough to tell me a secret this important first before anyone else. That had to count for something, even if it just meant we were friends.

  I straightened my back, ignored the painful shards of my broken heart in my chest. I couldn’t even let myself think of how much I’d ache when he moved so far away from his family, from the bakery, from Abbott Springs.

  From me.

  But I’d deal with that pain then. Right now, it was all I could do to pin the smile back on my face and walk, head high, into the barn.

  Oliver

  My chest was one huge knot.

  I stared at the double doors, feet locked in place, wondering what the hell I should do now. Kicking myself for telling her my secret the way I had. But things had started getting too out of control, and I’d just…freaked. Tried to force distance in there, knowing that would cool the jets on the tension practically vibrating between us.

  When my hand had skimmed her hot, naked flesh under that sexy black off-the-shoulder shirt on accident, I’d had to literally fight the urge to rub my palm across her belly. Slide my mouth along her bare shoulder. I was running from this like hell, this sudden slam of sexual awareness of Maya.