Delivered with a Kiss: Veteran Movers 4

by Marie Harte

  Then he took one from the outdoor closet for himself and smiled. “No problem.”

  “Does this ever make you nervous?”

  “Why should it? It’s just money.”

  “Maybe to you. It’s overwhelming, I have to say.”

  Evan studied her.

  “What?”

  “I heard nice things about you from Reid, Cash, and Naomi.” He nodded. “I’m glad Smith has found someone special. He’s so much more than what people see.”

  “I know.” She looked inside through the glass doors to see him drying dishes with Jane and laughing at something she said.

  “He smiles now. Laughs too. He was so angry when I first met him.”

  “He’s still angry,” she said. “But I think he sees that he can be happy if he lets himself.”

  Evan nodded. “I do our accounting at Vets on the Go! But when Cash broke his arm, I filled in for him. They paired me with Smith a lot.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  He laughed. “Yeah, at first, so was I. But as I got to know him, to see beneath all the digs at Reid and Cash, the obnoxious comments to anyone who tried to, God forbid, be nice to him, I saw a pretty decent guy.”

  “He’s a sweetie, but he’d rather die than admit it.”

  “Yep.” They watched his mother snap her towel at Smith, who dodged and grinned. He saw Evan watching, and frowned. “The best Smith story, that just shows you who he really is, is the tea party story.”

  “I have to hear this.”

  Evan smiled, and she had to admit he had the looks and charisma that all the Griffiths seemed to possess. “We were moving this rich family, and they had a ton of stuff. So, I’m working, and I happen to go by the little girl’s bedroom. And there, at the tiniest table known to man, sits Smith drinking pretend tea with the girl and her stuffed gorilla. It was so surreal.”

  She could easily see that scene happening.

  “Then I overhear the sweetest conversation. She’s sad because her parents are getting a divorce, and he’s telling her it’s never a kid’s fault, that sometimes grownups have problems. I can’t remember exactly what he said, but it really touched me. He was swinging her around and making her laugh when he saw me watching and turned beet-red. That’s when I knew Smith was quality people.”

  She sighed, watching him through the glass, his image in no way distorted by anything she’d seen or heard. “Yeah, he’s the best.”

  “He’s also a major pain and refuses to see that he’s worth more than he thinks he is. Keep that in mind when he pushes you away. Because if he hasn’t yet, he will.” Evan paused. “He never stopped watching you today. Even when he was talking to me and my mom, he had you in his sights. He’s into you, Erin. I don’t know how much, but take care with him. He’s a lot more fragile than his big mouth would have you believe.

  She had to laugh at that. They turned and watched a few boats in the water before Smith came to save his girlfriend from his lazy-ass cousin.

  Evan tossed him his blanket before joining his mom for after-brunch coffee.

  “We’ll be right in,” Smith called. “Okay, what did lover boy have to say about me? Did he warn you off?” His teasing couldn’t cover his unease.

  To cover how much she felt for Smith, Erin socked him in the arm.

  “Ow. You may be tiny, but you’re fierce.”

  “Hush, you. That’s for teasing me about moving in with you.”

  He rubbed his arm and drew her inside with him, but along the way he whispered, “Who said I was teasing?”

  * * *

  The ride home passed in silence, but not because Smith had fallen asleep. Far from it. After telling Erin he’d been serious about her moving in, he waited for them to discuss it. Only she hadn’t, and he didn’t know what to think.

  Brunch had been magical. Aunt Jane was all the moms and aunts and grandmas he’d always dreamed of having wrapped up in a caring woman who genuinely wanted him to visit whenever he could. Like, she meant that shit. Evan had been his typical self: charming, funny, and damned nice.

  Smith had to admit he liked the guy, and he’d promised to bring Erin to meet Kenzie and Daniel at some future date, though he hadn’t committed to anything specific. Not unless Erin confirmed it.

  She’d been a little too quiet since being outside with Evan, and it freaked him out. Was it all too much? Had Evan dissed him without him knowing it? Did she see how much he didn’t fit in with the Griffiths and now pitied him with no way out?

  By the time they parked, he felt ready to come out of his skin.

  They went upstairs to his apartment, and at least she seemed okay with that, because she followed him inside.

  “Okay,” he burst out, “What the hell?”

  She frowned. “What?”

  “Why are you mad at me?”

  She gaped. “I’m not mad.”

  He started pacing, his nerves shot to hell. Today had been about sharing something good with her, but he felt as if he’d done something wrong. “Then why have you been giving me the silent treatment the whole way home?”

  “Me? I thought that was all you.”

  “Huh?”

  She poked him in the chest, and for some reason that turned him way on. “I have been wanting to talk to you all day about this living together thing, but you say nothing. Are you serious about me—I mean, serious about me moving in—or not?”

  Smith had been through enough. He couldn’t take their distance any longer. He knew one thing he was damn good at. One thing he couldn’t screw up. So he kissed her, and he showed her exactly how much he wanted her. He stripped her naked in moments, his mouth and hands never stopping. He had her against the back of the couch and knelt between her legs, his mouth over her before she could do more than cry out his name.

  He ate her up, licking and sucking her into a wild orgasm that tore his name from her lips.

  Then he turned her around, a fantasy come to life, and unzipped his jeans. “Bend forward,” he ordered and didn’t recognize the grit in his voice. He took himself out, so sensitive, so hard, and spread her legs wider as she bent over the back of the couch, almost off her tiptoes due to the height.

  He took himself in hand and angled at her entrance, so hot and slick. He shoved home, over and over, thrusting in tune to her cries for more. He couldn’t stop, so fucking in love with the woman that where he ended and she began blurred.

  His orgasm took him by complete surprise, the rush of ecstasy both numbing and exhausting and over too fast.

  He stood behind her, shivering as he released, small shocks of bliss still pumping through his blood.

  “Cupcake, you good?” he asked, feeling as if he’d run a marathon.

  She held a thumbs up then flopped back over the cushions.

  He stayed there a moment, feeling better than he’d ever thought possible. He’d been a part of something today, of a family, and he’d been treated just like everyone else.

  With Erin by his side.

  She made it seem right. Normal. As if he’d always belonged.

  She had to move in with him.

  He withdrew and carried her in his arms to the bedroom where he gently cleaned her up, more than satisfied to have left part of him inside her. Thoughts of a baby jolted him into a new reality, the idea he could have a wife and family, someone he loved and who loved him, possible.

  Then he told himself not to get too excited because the blasted woman still hadn’t committed to moving in with him.

  After he’d cleaned up and stripped naked, he joined her on the bed. “Well?”

  “Definitely a 10,” she mumbled. “Man, that was wild. You wore me out, Mr. Mad. Are you still mad? I hope not. Because if that’s how you make love when you’re angry, I’m always gonna wanna fight.” She sounded sleepy and satisfied.

  He grinned and pulled her hair from her face so he could see her. “That wasn’t making love, Erin. That was some hard fucking. Making love involves a lot more kissing and touching.�
�

  She hissed a breath when he took her nipple in his mouth and did just that.

  “Oh.” She clutched his head to her chest. “Did you mean it about moving in with you?”

  He pulled back to stare down at her, totally in love with Erin Briggs and her bright eyes and wide smile.

  “I totally meant it.”

  “Can I tell you yes tomorrow, so my answer isn’t clouded by great sex?”

  His heart thundered, his feelings so fucking joyful he could barely contain himself. But he tried to act casual about it. “Oh, uh, sure.” Smith cleared his throat. “So, do you want me to go down on you again? Or you want some straight up missionary?”

  Her eyes widened. “Again? Right now?”

  “When I get my second wind.”

  “Oh good. I need a tiny break.” She laid the back of her forearm over her eyes. “But I won’t stop you from nibbling on the rest of me to wake me up. Then we should do sixty-nine, because I haven’t tried that yet.”

  Now he was the one looking stunned. “You can’t be serious.”

  “Hey. We aren’t all as experienced as Big Dick Ramsey.”

  He laughed so hard he cried. “Can I use that name with the guys? I love it.”

  “Shut up.”

  “Sixty-nine is a sacred number.” He grinned. “Oh, Cupcake. You have so much to learn…”

  Erin wondered if she’d made a mistake. If her nights continued like the past one, she might just turn bowlegged. In the morning, she gave Smith her tentative yes, and he swung her around until she grew dizzy.

  But at least she knew he did in fact want her to stay.

  The next few days passed in a blur. She would drop Smith at work in the morning, then cook for Tilly and Tilly’s helper, after which she’d take the food to Rupert’s. She edited her agricultural magazine articles during the day and filmed her cooking show at night at Tilly’s, threatening Smith on pain of death to keep away.

  But after editing her video, she’d decided to try another angle and asked him to film her making an assortment of Halloween treats she intended to share at the next night’s Hall-o-ween.

  He kept making her laugh until she smeared her mouth with chocolate and kissed him.

  The only time she’d ever seen him cringe when kissing her.

  After the segment, he congratulated her. “Wow. That was totally cool. It felt like I was on the set of a real televised cooking show.” He nodded to the tripod she normally used when filming with her phone. Then he shot her a sly look. “Ever filmed yourself having sex?”

  “No. Just no.” She grabbed her phone and hugged it to her chest. “With my luck, I’d accidentally share it on YouTube, or worse, my parents would see it.” She cringed.

  “Okay, but you don’t know what you’re missing.”

  She paused. “You have?”

  “In my wilder, younger days.” He laughed.

  He seemed like a different man since she’d moved in, though the actual moving in hadn’t exactly happened yet. She spent her days and nights at his place while keeping all her things in the efficiency. He hadn’t pressed her about it, and she hadn’t mentioned it, but she liked having a cushion with her name on the lease. The fear that what had happened with Cody could happen with Smith refused to leave her mind. Not that Smith might cheat on her, but that something might happen between them making it impossible to live with him.

  Unfortunately, talking to Smith about her fears caused him to clam up and grow defensive. She understood his lack of communication skills, but it didn’t make it easy to talk to him about their future. And then she worried she’d once again jumped too fast too far for a man. But then he’d look at her like he loved her, and she’d forget about her worries and do her best to stay in the now, enjoying him.

  Halloween came and went, and with it an amazing time at the McCallisters’. Smith kept his arm around her in a not so subtle attempt to let Brad and a few other singles know she was taken. But it didn’t bother her either, because she didn’t like the way some of the women looked at him, as if he were still available.

  They laughed about it after, but she saw worry in his eyes. No matter how much she tried to convince him they were fine, he seemed on edge. And she still hadn’t given up her key next to door.

  * * *

  Two days after Halloween, Erin received an invitation to cocktails with Naomi, Jordan, Kenzie, and Aunt Jane. A little uneasy about being one of the Griffith girls, though technically Smith wasn’t a Griffith, she nevertheless went out for drinks.

  And accidentally got hammered. Much of the night remained a mystery, though she did recall a male review club and a bunch of ones Jordan had forced on her disappearing down a man’s G-string.

  “Hey there, big tipper.” Smith’s loud voice cut through her Sunday morning regret.

  “Oh, my head.”

  “I hear you slipped on a few buttery nipples. That right?”

  “Ugh. I had four drinks. Four.”

  “At the first club,” he muttered, sounding amused.

  She blinked open one eye and saw him looming over her, as he normally did.

  “Whoa. You’re a little scary hungover.” He pulled her into a sitting position and sat watching her.

  “I’m not a doll, you know.”

  He sighed. “Yeah, we haven’t gotten to the doll fantasy yet, where you let me position you and you don’t move.”

  “Don’t move?”

  “Like a doll. Then I have my wicked way with you.”

  She glared at him, or tried to glare past the tiny hammers intent on killing all her brain cells. “Stop looking so cute and hopeful.” She rolled out of his bed and would have stumbled to the door if he hadn’t picked her up and carried her to the bathroom. “Thanks,” she muttered and slammed the door on him.

  She took her time in the shower, letting plentiful hot water—thanks to McSons Plumbing who’d installed an energy efficient new water heater just yesterday—sluice away her pain.

  Afterward, she had a case of dry mouth, no appetite, and bad cramps. She’d been expecting her period, so she had supplies. But she didn’t feel comfortable talking about it to Smith, and she knew it would come up in conversation. Feeling crabby and miserable, she wanted to go next door and hide for a week.

  He saw her, his smile faded. “What’s wrong?”

  “I don’t feel good.”

  “Aw, honey, you’ll feel better soon. Just drink a lot of water.”

  “You don’t know everything. Water won’t help.” Actually, it would. But so would a Midol.

  “O-kay.” Smith paused by the stove. “Want me to make you something to eat?”

  “Noooo.” She felt nauseous at the thought. She was never, ever, going to try to outdrink Aunt Jane again.

  “You mind if I make something?”

  “Go head,” she mumbled into her arms and dozed off.

  She woke to him placing her on the couch with a blanket over her. And it made her think of home, her mother, and her beloved Grandma Freddy.

  Cramps twisted her insides. Her mother would have found her a hot water bottle and placed it on her stomach while rubbing her head.

  She sniffed, suddenly so very homesick. She really needed for Smith to not see her like this. She hated being weepy, and he’d already seen her lose it when Cody had dumped her. Erin needed to get back to her apartment, but she didn’t want to leave him. God, she hated feeling so emotional!

  “Erin?” Smith stroked her hair.

  She turned into his hands and cried. “I need to go home.” Back to my apartment, she meant. But saying “home” confused her, because she’d started to think of belonging with Smith. He was home, safety, love. Yet it hadn’t been that long ago that Kansas and the apartment next door had been home. Was she moving too fast? Making a mistake? Then why did she imagine Smith and feel so in love?

  What a confusing mess. She cried some more, thought she heard the door close, but her head hurt too much to care. She’d nap away her heada
che and deal with life—and Smith—much later.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Smith couldn’t bring himself to talk to her. Two days after her pathetic crying jag, he felt like shit. He barked at the team, moved like an automaton, and dithered over whether to let her come to him or to demand they talk this out.

  He hated talking. Talking lead to misunderstandings and bad news and dismay. But having her spend her time at her place or at Tilly’s hurt.

  He sat on his lunch break, rubbing his heart, his appetite gone. The temperature had chilled, freezing rains sweeping through, so instead of eating outside, he, Heidi, Cash, and Hector had driven to a nearby strip mall to grab some chow.

  Inside the fast food place, he stared at the wrapped sub with no desire to eat. But to get everyone off his back, he pretended.

  The great pretender, Smith Ramsey.

  He didn’t understand what was wrong with him. Smith was no pussy. He could take a breakup and move on with his life. But the idea Erin was done with him didn’t register in his brain. Being without her, for even a few days, didn’t work.

  He didn’t like her distance, and he liked even less that she didn’t want to talk to him.

  I want to go home, she’d said. What? Home like Kansas or home like next door? So far it had been next door. His knee bobbed, his frustration and anxiety building.

  What the hell had those women said to get her so riled up? One night out with the girls, what should have been a fun excursion where she finally made new friends, had turned into a nightmare for him.

  He’d tried asking Jordan what the fuck had happened, but she seemed as much in the dark as he was. He would have asked Reid and Evan to ask their ladies, but he didn’t like everyone knowing his business. Or that he’d fucked up and had no idea how to right it.

  The simple answer would be to ask Erin what was wrong. Except her possible answer, ending their relationship, terrified him.

  He grabbed his sandwich when he saw Heidi outside, waving at him to come back. His phone rang, and he answered automatically, in case it might be Erin.