by Marie Harte
“I don’t think you’re messed up.”
“You don’t?”
“Well, you’re a little tactless. And you say what you feel. But that’s not such a bad thing. I’d much rather be with someone who’s honest than a charming liar.” Then she blushed. “Not that we’re together. I just meant—”
“I know what you meant.” He smiled. “So, if you’re okay with us being honest with each other, and the fact I want you like crazy doesn’t bother you, maybe we could slow down and get to know each other before I bang your brains out.”
She grew tingly just thinking about it. “You know I’m going to be thinking about that all the time now. The banging, I mean.”
“Good. I shouldn’t be the only one suffering.”
She gazed down at his erection and swallowed. “Oh.”
“Tell you what. While I’m suffering from blue balls every night, and you’re all hot and bothered over in your apartment, we can take our time getting to know each other. Then, when you feel like you can handle me, you tell me when.”
“When?”
“When I can fuck you.”
She felt so warm. “Or make love to me?”
“Erin, call it anything you want, and I’ll do it. But you have to decide. I’m already there. I’ll bend you over the couch right now if you say the word.”
She wanted to, so badly. But the old Erin remained, wanting a connection with the person she gave her body to. And she refused to feel badly about that either. Her life was her own. And not her parents or Grandma Freddy or anyone could tell her that her decisions were wrong.
“Okay.”
He gaped. “Okay?”
Realizing how he’d interpreted that, she stammered, “S-sorry. Not about the couch, I meant about letting you know when. And there will be a when. I just need to know you.” She blushed. “I’m naïve and small town, aren’t I?”
“I think you’re sweet.”
“Ugh. And nice. And the girl next door.” She crossed her eyes. “I’ve heard it all before.”
“Well, girl next door, unless you want me to remind you how sweet I find you, with my head between your legs, I’d suggest we change the subject. How do you feel about making out? Is that okay to do before you say when?”
She felt excited, happy and ready for the next step. With Smith, who hadn’t called her a throwback or old fashioned because she wanted to wait. “I think that’s doable.”
He groaned. “Don’t say doable. You’re doable. Fuck. Let’s watch TV or something before I forget I’m only allowed to stay above the neck.”
She grinned. “Well, now. I didn’t say that. Maybe just above the waist.”
His eyes brightened. Dessert happened on the couch. And the lemon meltaways came much, much later.
Chapter Eight
Smith hadn’t felt so good in ages. Hell, maybe in forever.
His date with Erin had been amazing so far. They’d been together for two hours, and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d had so much nonsexual, nonviolent fun with anyone. Better than fucking, fighting, or tossing live grenades, Erin’s laughter invited him to partake in her joy.
He saw the city through her eyes. The dirt of the streets and sidewalks, the beauty of the many cultures and varied people, the scents of homemade pierogies and seafood chowder. Men throwing fish around while customers ordered. Her amber-eyed gaze took in everything. He’d offered to buy her something to eat, a pair of earrings she’d stared at a little too long in the market, and even a cool hair band she seemed to like, but she’d refused.
She just liked to look and take everything in, she’d said. Personally, he thought she counted all her pennies before she made a purchase and had no plans on being without. A frugal woman, and one he’d come to respect more and more. She didn’t make fun of him for loathing chocolate, though she did say she felt sorry for him.
“Do you hate all sweets? You can’t, because you ate my cookies.”
“And I’m dying to eat them again,” he said with a wiggle of his brows. The memories of last night refused to leave his mind’s eye. He’d sucked on her pretty nipples and cupped her, bringing her to orgasm despite herself. That she responded to him so prettily made him feel ten feet tall. And when she’d offered to soothe him as well, he’d forced himself to decline. Being there for her was what he’d intended in the first place, not to seduce her into saying yes too soon.
She flushed. “Oh, stop it.” Then something caught her eye, and she gasped. “Look, Smith. Flowers.” He followed her to the bouquets, not surprised when she bought a tiny bundle for two bucks. She might not be a spendthrift, but she liked beauty. He tucked that away for future reference.
They continued through the marketplace, and he wondered why he hadn’t been down here since he’d returned from Camp Pendleton back in January. But why would he? He wasn’t a shopper and hated crowds. Being here with Erin made all the difference.
“Do you like soccer?” he asked as she looked over a clothing vendor’s wares.
“I like soccer players’ legs,” she admitted with a grin.
He felt a little funny, looking at her and seeing someone who was so much more than a neighbor, friend, or lover. But what, he didn’t know.
“What’s wrong?” she asked him. “I shouldn’t have said that, should I?”
He forced a laugh, wondering why he had to make such a big deal about liking her. She was cool and sexy. So what? “I like you being honest. I was just going to say we should go to a Sounders game. That’s the Seattle soccer team. I love soccer. American football, not so much.”
“Oh, come on. Men in tights and shoulder pads? Yum.” She smirked.
He shook his head, and they left the market to walk around downtown.
Erin tended to gawk at shoes and handbags, lingering by windows that had assortments of feminine things. She also loved going in and pawing through girlie doodads, soaps and candles, jewelry, notecards. A lot of crap that took up a lot of space in the already tight confines of those tiny boutiques. He felt claustrophobic just looking from the outside in.
“I’ll wait for you on the sidewalk out there,” he said while in one such place with her. “Where I can breathe.”
She laughed at him. “I’ll be right out. I saw something I think my sister would like, and her birthday’s coming up.”
He nodded and tried to walk out but found his way hampered by a super helpful saleswoman.
“Excuse me.” She tapped his arm. “Were you looking for something in particular? For your girlfriend, maybe?” She smiled back at Erin, now talking to the other sales person.
“Nah, she’s the one looking. I’m here with her.”
“Well, if you need help, ask for me. Caitlyn.” She ran a hand over his arm and squeezed, her come-on obvious. He should call her on it, but he didn’t want to make a scene for Erin.
Instead, he left, stewing. This was what he hated about people. The backstabbing, loose-morals way of looking at the world. No one cared about loyalty. And it wasn’t limited to women. He’d seen so many fellow male Marines who thought it was okay to screw around as long as the spouse at home didn’t know.
Granted, not everyone had been so thoughtless. But many had, and on top of what he already knew about love, the idea of being in a committed, monogamous relationship seemed out of reach.
And why the fuck am I blowing this so out of proportion? He felt like a moron. Some stupid chick had hit on him. So what? It happened a lot and he dealt with it. Yet he felt offended on Erin’s behalf. They had appeared to be together, after all. Should he mention it to her? Nah. She didn’t need to know, and they weren’t really a couple or anything. Though he imagined breaking the jaw of any guy who looked at her wrong, he had no right to do so.
“All good? I wasn’t too long, was I?” she asked as she joined him outside. She held up a small bag. “I got a pair of earrings and a matching bracelet for my sister.”
“I’m good.” He forced a smile. “I was worrie
d about you never coming out. I don’t know if I’d be able to survive that place if I had to go in looking for you.”
She laughed and put her hand in the crook of his arm as they walked toward one of his favorite stops—a store that sold used books and comics.
“Smith?”
The voice stopped him in his tracks, and Erin halted next to him.
Damn it.
He glanced up to see Reid approaching with a shit-eating grin, his gaze moving from Erin to Smith and warming.
Erin watched them both, waiting.
Reid waited as well, his gaze expectant.
“Hell,” Smith muttered. “Erin, this is Reid, my boss. Reid, Erin.”
“Hi.” Erin smiled at him.
Reid smiled back. “I’m Reid Griffin, Smith’s boss and brother.” He shook her hand, looking like a poster ad for good teeth and good hair. He wore khaki trousers and a gray sweater under a dark jacket. Erin would probably find him good-looking.
And that annoyed Smith to no end.
Erin compared them both. “His brother? How nice to meet you.” Reid released her hand, and they continued to smile at each other.
“How do you know Smith?” Reid asked.
Smith glared. “You don’t have to give her the third degree.”
“Smith, be nice.” Erin squeezed his arm, and that mollified him a little, because she had no problem showing slick Reid they were together. “Smith and I are neighbors and friends.”
“Friends,” Reid repeated, staring at them both.
“Yeah. Got a problem with that?” He would have stepped forward to press his point, but Erin held him back, tugging him by the arm.
Reid shrugged. “Not at all. In fact, this is perfect. Naomi and I wanted to invite you to dinner, Smith. But I didn’t know if Naomi being there would be weird, just the three of us. Now you can bring Erin, and it’ll be the four of us. How about it?”
“Well, I’m kind of busy and—”
“This Saturday night at seven o’clock. Dinner at our place. I’ll text you the directions.” Reid took Erin by the hand again and squeezed. “I hope I didn’t put you on the spot or anything. But Naomi and I would love for you to come.”
The bastard was using all that Griffith charm, and Erin was falling for it! Smith saw her stare back at the idiot.
“Oh, I bet Smith would love to come. I know I would.” Erin looked up at him, and Smith was nodding before he could think about it. Anything to make her happy.
“Awesome. We’ll see you guys Saturday night. Don’t bring anything, either. I mean it,” Reid said to Smith. Then he left them standing there, staring after him.
“Why did he think I might bring something?” Smith mumbled. “I don’t even want to go.”
Erin tugged him forward. “Sure you do. He’s your brother. Wow, Smith. I’m learning all about you. You hate chocolate, girl shops scare you, and you have a brother.”
“I have two.” He sighed. “There’s more to the story. I think we need another coffee break.”
* * *
Erin watched Smith, aware he hadn’t liked Reid much. The man had seemed so nice and polite to Erin, but what did she know? Appearances could be deceiving.
They sat at a local coffee shop and had the place mostly to themselves. She sipped at a latte while he tore pieces off a pastry and pushed them around his plate. He hadn’t touched his coffee yet.
“Okay, tell me. Quit moping. You look like a teenage girl dithering over how to break up with her boyfriend.”
That shook him out of his funky mood. “Excuse me?” His deep voice still had the ability to make her shiver.
She didn’t miss his effect on most everyone they made contact with. People either stared at him, in awe of his looks and size, or they gave him a wide berth. She preferred the latter, weirded out to find herself jealous over the big guy. Especially when they were, for all intents and purposes, almost friends with benefits.
“Tell me about Reid. I’m not going to judge you, you know.” She took hold of his hand resting on the table, and he stared down at their entwined fingers.
“Fine. It’s a shitty story. You sure you want to hear it? We’re having a nice day.”
They were until he’d started brooding. “Lay it on me.”
He gave her faint grin, then sighed and pulled his hand away. “Short version: the woman who raised me wasn’t my mom. I found this out months ago. Apparently, my real mom was her sister, who gave me up because she didn’t want me. Meg—my aunt—hated me forever. And I recently learned I have two brothers. Reid and I share the same birth mom. Cash—he’s a huge asshole, by the way—and I share the same mom and dad. They were raised together and didn’t know they had different dads until their mom passed away. Our mom,” he corrected, not used to the dynamic. “I went to work for the guys because I wanted to check them out. Then they learned about me. So now they keep trying to make us into this big happy family, and that doesn’t work for me.”
She kept track of what he did and didn’t say, and she didn’t miss the slight waver in his voice when he mentioned a big happy family. Something he wanted even if he acted like he didn’t. Growing up with a mother who hated him explained a lot about his gruff nature. “Why doesn’t the big happy family work for you?”
“Because it’s all fake,” he growled. “They don’t want me. They feel sorry for me because Angela lied to everyone and screwed me over. I guess she screwed them over too. I don’t know. She had a diary they gave me to read, but I haven’t read it yet.”
“Why not?”
“Because I hate her and it hurts to bring up the past,” he said bluntly.
She nodded, feeling for him. Her family smothered her sometimes, but they loved her. And she knew she always had a home to go to should she need it. Smith had no one but a few biological ties to strangers he felt uncomfortable around. “Reid seemed nice. Was that a front?”
He sighed and ate a piece of pastry. “He’s okay. I guess.”
“And Cash? The not-so-nice guy?”
“He’s loud and obnoxious.” Smith glared at his coffee. “And it’s weird that he looks like me.” He paused. “They have a cousin, Evan. I worked alongside him for a while. He’s not bad. He’s pretty smart, actually. He and his girlfriend invite me to stuff, and his mom keeps insisting I call her Aunt Jane.” He got a funny look on his face, one of disbelief and amusement. “She keeps inviting me to her new place in Bainbridge.”
She frowned, not familiar with that neighborhood. “Bainbridge? Is that close?”
“Bainbridge Island. It’s a ferry ride away.”
“Oh. Right.” She sipped her coffee, watching the emotions cross his face. She wondered if he realized how confused he looked. “That sounds nice, your aunt and cousin including you.”
He shrugged. “It was weird. But nice, I guess. I like Evan’s girlfriend.” He gave her a faint smile. “She has a teenage brother who’s really smart. The kid is also a smartass. I like him.”
“A smartass. No wonder you like him. It’s like looking at yourself, am I right?”
“Maybe.”
“So, this thing at Reid’s. You don’t want to go?”
He sighed. “Not really. Reid’s nice, but we have nothing in common. And Naomi is this fiery redhead who owns her own business and dresses in heels and shit. Like, she and Reid are on a totally different level than me.”
“What level would that be?”
He shrugged, and a hint of pink colored his cheeks. “I don’t know. I’m smart enough. But I’m not the executive type. Reid is. Evan is too. He’s a big shot CPA. He, Reid, and Cash own the company. I just work there.”
She nodded and remained quiet while he continued.
“I was fresh out of the Corps when I came home. I knew it was stupid, but my first stop was to Meg.”
She took a moment. “Your mom. I mean, your aunt.”
“Yeah.” He sighed. “I thought she might be glad to see me. I used to send money home, you know? Thou
ght that might soften her up. But she was just as spiteful as ever.” He drank his coffee and continued to tear at his pastry. “Now I know why. She raised her sister’s kid. And she was secretly in love with my father—Cash’s dad.”
“You know, you really need to write a book about all this. Or maybe a Lifetime movie script.”
His tension eased as he laughed. “No shit.”
She smiled at him, feeling a lot of empathy for a man who hadn’t had much softness in his life, but who still managed to help her in need. He could have turned into a giant jerk after being raised by such a mean-hearted person. Instead he buried his kindness behind gruff words and that huge frame.
“Would getting to know your brothers be so bad?” she asked. “What if you let them in then learn they’re asses? You never talk to them again. Although you do work for them. That could be awkward.”
“I only took the job when Meg told me their names. I was curious. She used to talk about my amazing cousins all the time when I was a kid. I could never measure up.” He frowned. “I used to hate the fuck out of them.”
“I would too,” she admitted, “if my parents constantly talked about them being so great and treated me badly.”
“Yeah. I can’t let go of that. And it makes it tough when Reid or Cash try to be nice. I just want to smash their faces in.”
“Maybe you should. You said Cash is like you.”
“Unfortunately.”
“Then he probably likes to fight too. You should go at it, let the anger out, and go from there.”
He perked up. “That’s not a bad idea. I’d love to rearrange his face.”
“I was thinking more like some kind of therapeutic counseling with pugil sticks or padded boxing gloves. Tilly was watching that on TV the other day during a Dr. Phil show.” She shook her head at him. “What about Reid? Do you want to hit him too?”
“I do, but I’m afraid I’d break him. He’s a little weak.”
“It’s obvious you could clobber him. Why not go to dinner and feel him out? A free meal is never something you turn down, you know,” she teased.