Why Her?: May December Romance (Mistaken Identities Book 2)

by Rie Warren

  Saturday night was a different story. I didn’t wait for Cecilia to go to bed before saying goodnight and bundling Stevie upstairs. She put up little resistance once I got her through closed doors, hurrying her to the bed. Hours later, Stevie lay entwined with me, legs locked around my hips, muting her hot sultry cries against my shoulder while I took her for the second time in just as many hours.

  Sunday, I grilled out on the new deck while Stevie and Cecilia paddleboarded in the creek. The lazy afternoon ended with Stevie striding to her truck, backpack in hand.

  She insisted on spending Sunday night at home, but we’d see how long that lasted. Except I had to leave for my office Monday morning before she arrived, and then I started having second thoughts.

  What was I really doing, at the age of thirty-nine, carrying on with a woman in her twenties? What would happen when the job ended, and she was no longer needed at the house? How could I expect her to maybe even marry me one day?

  The idea of marrying her jolted me completely into the reality of the situation.

  What if she wanted kids of her own?

  What if she didn’t want to be a stepmom to Cecilia?

  The what-ifs seemed insurmountable.

  Gwen appeared for work, suspiciously bright, and bigger than ever. The mound of her belly preceded her, and she rubbed it then stopped to gasp.

  She poked at the side of her stomach, hissing, “That hurt! I swear this little monster’s going to be born with feet the size of an NBA athlete.” She eased slowly into her chair and spun toward me. “But enough about me. I had a lot of texts from Cecilia this weekend.”

  Concentrating on a new set of specs from another new client, I grumbled, “I’ll just bet you did.”

  “She couldn’t stop gushing about Stevie Keller.”

  “Hmmph.”

  “I thought you’d be happy.”

  “You know me better than that by now.” I opened another email, scanning the contents.

  “That’s right.” When I glanced over, Gwen studied me, twirling a pencil between her fingers. “You’re the curmudgeonly one.”

  My brows lowered. “No matter how old you think I am, I’ve never used the term curmudgeonly in my life, not even once.”

  “That’s right. You’re sooooo over the hill. You’ll be forty in less than six months. Nearly retirement age. Ready to join AARP and all.”

  Fists on my desk, I stood from behind it. “I am old compared to Stevie. Jesus Christ, Gwen. She’s only twenty-seven!”

  “Why golly gee!” She leaked sarcasm through her pores. “She’s practically jailbait. I bet she has no idea what she’s doing, being taken advantage of by you.”

  I reared back. “It’s not like that.”

  “No shit, Sherlock.” Gwen rolled her chair around as if disgusted with me. “For God’s sake, Kane. I’m on the verge of throttling you. You’re falling in love. Enjoy it!”

  Pushing away all the what ifs and I shouldn’ts, I decided to take Gwen’s advice. I also convinced Stevie to pack a bag and spend Tuesday and Wednesday night at the house.

  The next weekend, she stayed the entire time again, and by the second week I was angling to step up her sleepovers to include Thursday too. With Frank and Brian outside—probably puttering around for no reason in particular other than to leave the two of us alone—I cornered Stevie in the kitchen.

  “I can’t just keep sleeping here.” She protested, as expected.

  “Why not?” I persisted, caging her with my arms.

  Long lashes framed her ocean blue eyes, and the sun had brought out a design of freckles on her nose.

  I had to concentrate to hear what she was saying. Which amounted to more excuses.

  “I have my own place, you know.”

  “Maybe you should invite me over sometime,” I suggested.

  She stuck her pert little nose in the air, the way she always did when she was about to pick a fight with me.

  I sought to cut her off with a kiss, bending my head.

  She ducked the other way.

  I tried again.

  And she wriggled against me.

  I leaned back, hands on the wall beside her head.

  I grinned. “I love it when you fidget like that.”

  She scowled, pushing at me. “And why are we always in the kitchen when this happens?”

  “We haven’t christened this room yet.”

  “Kane!” Her face tilted to mine. “It looks strange. Me just helping myself to your food and stuff.”

  “To whom?”

  “Frank and Brian! That’s whom.”

  Lips quirking, I drawled, “I think that cat’s already out of the bag, sweetheart.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Stevie

  “WHAT DO YOU MEAN?” I asked Kane, who tucked his lips together for a moment, brown eyes alight.

  “Haven’t you noticed Frank and Brian have been wink-wink, nudge-nudge around us?”

  “No.”

  “Not even yesterday when Brian literally nudged Frank with his elbow because you reached up to swipe sawdust from my hair, looking like you couldn’t wait to jump my bones?”

  “I did no such thing!” Pushing Kane back, I slipped away.

  He gathered my hand in his and drew me toward him.

  Eyes glowing even more, dimples deep in his cheeks, lips curving up, he was smug personified. “Okay. Then there’s the fact Frank mentioned to me I might want to put my lady pills in the drawer in the bathroom.”

  “Lady pills?”

  “Your birth control. He thought he was being funny.”

  “I’m gonna kill him.”

  “I’d hate to have to bail you out of jail.”

  “I’m gonna fire him.” I seethed, fists bunched.

  “He’s a pretty good worker though.”

  “You’re loving this, aren’t you?”

  Ringing his arms around me, Kane rocked me back and forth. “So much.”

  Nose wrinkled, I allowed a small giggle. “I think I liked you better when you were Cross Kane.”

  He laughed boldly. Then kissed me even more boldly, tongue probing against mine, lips smoldering, powerful body holding me close. The arousal we held off as long as possible always sparked with furious fire the moment we allowed a single touch.

  A hot kiss was enough to make us combust.

  I blinked hazily when Kane pulled back, hands solidly cupping my bottom.

  “I didn’t hire you to kiss you, Miss Keller.”

  “You made me!” I slugged him on the shoulder.

  He shrugged it off. “Back to work, woman.”

  Woman?

  I’d have words with him later. As well as with Brian and Frank for that matter, the ungrateful insubordinates.

  Men.

  Typical!

  The problem was Kane was so assured, so successful, so put-together . . . except around me. During the day, when he was home, he was charming and playful and utterly irresistible. And at night, he went all animal on me . . . just the thought of his kisses, the way he’d ply me with dirty suggestions and limitless caresses, how he’d feed his cock into me and feast himself on me, and my body grew hot and wet and ready for more of the same. Although fucking Kane was never the same.

  I’d been genuinely surprised by Cecilia’s reaction to this sudden thing between her father and me springing up. I still waited for the other shoe to drop, the sky to fall, or lightning to strike.

  As soon as Kane assured me both Brian and Frank weren’t being fooled by our supposed secrecy, I decided to ignore them.

  Until I just couldn’t stop the steam boiling in my veins or the words streaming from my mouth.

  An hour after Kane had cornered me in the kitchen, I stabbed Frank and Brian with my deadliest glare. “Not another look, or wink, or single thought about Kane and me, or I’m gonna lady kill you. With a pill for sure. Cyanide!” I snapped.

  When I told Kane later that night, he had the decency to bite his lip instead of laugh outri
ght. Then he wrangled me to the bed and talked me into spending another night, his cock sliding so deeply inside, I moaned with the exquisitely lush sensations he elicited.

  Afterward, I barely had the strength to whisper, “You’re just creating more reasons for Brian and Frank to gossip in the morning.”

  Kane spooned tightly behind me, his voice at my ear. “I like to think I’m giving you more reasons to tell everyone you and I are together.”

  My heart skipped beneath the forearm resting over my breasts.

  ****

  It was just my luck the other shoe dropped the next morning, and I‘d finally invited Kane to my apartment that night.

  “Stevie, get up!” Kane shook me.

  “Mmm. What?” I rolled over, swamped in the warmth he’d left in the bed.

  “Something’s wrong. We overslept. Now I’m late. Cecilia’s going to be late for school—”

  Squinting at my phone, I gasped. “Frank and Brian will be here any minute.”

  “Christ. You know it’s your fault for keeping me up half the night trying out new positions.” He pulled on sweats, banged out of the room, banged on Cecilia’s door to get her up, then returned.

  Must’ve taken him all of ten seconds, and I. Was. Livid. “Me?” I stomped up to him, completely naked. “You can’t keep your damn hands off me. And you certainly weren’t complaining when you plowed into me from behind last night, were you?”

  His jaw dropped open.

  “Well?” I pointed at him, trying to yank on my panties and a tank top. “And—here’s a tip for free—why don’t you check the batteries on your stupid old alarm clock? Not actually my fault the ancient thing died, and you don’t know how to use the alarm on your iPhone like a normal person.”

  Heat raged between us, and words foamed from my mouth faster than I could retract.

  “Stupid old clock thing! Your fancy phone alarm didn’t go off either!” He boomed back, eyes cinching tight. “You gonna call me old-timer again?”

  “I’m not the one who thinks you’re too old!”

  He snorted in an ugly manner.

  “And while we’re at it”—I snatched on my Carhartt’s, working through the zipper with fumbling fingers because I was just so pissed off—“you’ve practically fought me every step of the way during this remodel because you don’t think I know what I’m doing! Yeah”—I stopped long enough to gloat—“Gwen tells me everything too. About the bedroom windows. The bathroom fix.”

  Shock crossed Kane’s face, and I returned it with a snarky smile.

  But then he lit into me. “I wouldn’t have to take you to task if you didn’t question my every decision.”

  “Sometimes you’re just plain wrong, Mr. High and Mighty.” I stood in front of him with my hands on my hips. “Bet nobody told you that before.”

  He crossed his arms over his chest. “Ha! And sometimes you’re so pigheaded you can’t see any way but yours. I didn’t even want you to change the bedroom windows.”

  “And now you freaking love them!”

  We glared at one another, both our chests pumping, his nostrils flaring, my lips flattening.

  Cecilia appeared in the doorway. “Guys! Ellie’s mom’s swinging by to pick me up.” She swept her gaze over us with a look of pure disgust. “You two need to grow up already. If we had neighbors, you’d have woken them up with all this shouting.”

  She departed, leaving twenty seconds of stunned silence in her wake.

  I gulped in a breath, relaxing my stance. “I guess we just got told by the teenager.”

  Kane unfolded his arms, huffing a short laugh. “At least we’re good at fighting.”

  “How can you even laugh at a time like this?”

  “It’s freeing. Alice and I almost never butted heads.” His glance at me was long and searching and void of the sudden anger we’d lashed out with. “In a way, I don’t think she and I were ever . . . hot enough for that.”

  The mention of Alice set off a wealth of insecurities in me. Insecurities and instant vulnerability. I didn’t deserve a man like him. How many times had Ethan gnawed away at me? Beaten into my head that I was nothing more than a second-class citizen? Kane was refined. Classy. On top of that, he and his wife apparently had a perfect marriage, just another impossible standard to live up to, given our track record.

  “Fighting isn’t a good thing, Kane.”

  “Why not? It’s passion, isn’t it?” He got a heated glimmer in his eyes, the dark flicker which preluded a kiss that usually ended with me welcoming him into my body. “Like fucking.”

  Though my breath instantly hastened and liquid warmth puddled between my legs, I shook a finger at him. “We don’t have time.”

  “I can be fast.”

  “I’m not sure you should brag about that.” Laughing, I backed away.

  “How can you laugh at a time like this, Stevie?” Advancing, he hauled me hard against him.

  Within minutes he had me where he wanted me—where I wanted to be—naked and pinned against the wall with my legs around his waist. His mouth hot on the side of my neck, he fucked me with such jarring thrusts I felt his force in tingles all the way down to my toes.

  His roar echoed, cock thickening and kicking off inside me. I responded, moaning, my body taking what he gave and clenching on him for more.

  Always more.

  We barely had time to make ourselves presentable when work boots sounded in the hallway below.

  “Hello!” Frank hollered.

  “Anybody home?” Brian shouted.

  I clomped downstairs, Kane right behind me. Before I could even begin to pretend I hadn’t slept over, he caught me around my waist to pull me back to him.

  “We’ll pick this up tonight,” he said.

  “At my place,” I agreed.

  “At your place.” Then he kissed me in front of Frank and Brian while they wink-winked, nudge-nudged.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Kane

  I ARRIVED AT STEVIE’S a few minutes early. I’d been angling to see her place for the past two weeks, and she’d finally invited me. Considering all the work she’d done on my house, I was curious to see what her apartment was like, and really, I just wanted to wallow in everything that was her.

  I wanted to know absolutely everything about her, and I fully intended to snoop when I got the chance.

  After parking on the street and feeding the meter, I headed up the outside steps of the Charleston Single house to the second floor. Her neighborhood was one of the older ones, lined with historical houses, giant old live oaks creating lush canopies over the narrow streets, within walking distance to Broad Street, Queen Street, and basically the entire peninsula.

  I paused on her square side porch. A bright pink geranium stood in a pot on top of a little iron table. Half its leaves had yellowed, and some of the blossoms had seen better days. On the white-painted floor next to the stand lay a hunk of car machinery.

  I could just picture her in overalls, grease on the tip of her nose, perfect ass pushed out as she bent under the hood of her growly pickup, and the idea brought a smile to my lips.

  I knocked on the cheery red door, smile widening when she called from within, “Coming!”

  I hopped back when she whacked the door open, popped a hand to her hip, and smiled so brightly my heart knocked in my chest.

  “Hello, stranger,” she purred.

  I scanned her slowly from her loose blonde-brown hair to her dancing blue eyes to the peacock tat that still fascinated me as much as the one on her hip. She wore snug faded cut-offs that bared her tan legs all the way to her bare feet, and a loose dark blue top made of some kind of netting.

  She looked clean and fresh and young.

  Suddenly I felt too formal even though I wore jeans and a linen shirt instead of the usual suit.

  Too formal, and oddly nervous.

  “What’s that?” I pointed to the car part.

  She nudged the piece of metal with one pink-painted toe
. “Carburetor. For when the old truck needs some life support. I salvaged it. I usually cover it with a tarp, but no chance of rain in the forecast, is there?”

  She turned her gaze back to me with an expectant look.

  I thrust out the flowers I’d brought wrapped in wax paper. An assortment of tiger lilies and other brightly colored blooms I thought she’d like.

  In accepting them, she stepped closer then bent her head to shove her nose in the fragrant bunch.

  And still I stood, strangely unsure. As if it were a first date, which I supposed it was even though we’d spent so much time together, so many nights together, and I’d made love to her with a ferocity I’d never felt with Alice.

  I’d offered to take Stevie out to dinner. But she insisted on making it for us.

  I’d asked if I should bring a bottle of wine. She’d declined in her usual breezy manner.

  Now she regarded me with curved lips and the bouquet in her arms. “Don’t I get a kiss, or at least a hello?”

  “Where are my manners?” I fell back to a teasing mood.

  “Why, I don’t know, Mr. Bishop.” And she teased me right back.

  With my fingers resting on the sides of her neck, I lowered my face to the moment when we shared a single breath. I waited until hunger—that intense hunger I’d never experienced—pitted low in my belly. Then, I lightly tasted her upper lip, her lower lip, the corners of her mouth.

  “Good enough?” I whispered against her.

  “Not nearly.”

  Curling my hands in her hair, I drew her up higher. The swoop of my mouth met the upthrust of hers, and we came together like always. Greedily. Achingly. Lushly and with no forethought.

  She mewled, crowding closer, and I heard the crush of wax paper within her tightening grip.

  I ended the kiss by taking her plush bottom lip between mine, sluicing the succulent flesh one last time before parting.

  “That was a hell of a hello.” She pulled back and swung away into her apartment. “My lips are tingling.”

  Her shapely backside beckoned me to follow, and I closed the screen door behind me, catching the low whir of the air conditioner inside and the low strains of music playing from somewhere farther in.