by Jewel E. Ann
Her nose wrinkled into a tiny cringe. “How is he?”
“Why do you ask?”
She shrugged. “No reason. I mean … I haven’t seen him in years. We used to go to the same church, not too far from here.”
“So you were church friends?”
After a pause and a narrowed eyed inspection of me, she nodded.
“Just church friends?”
“Brendon was the one who convinced me to go to Thailand. He’s actually the friend who went with me.”
“He’s the one, isn’t he?” It bothered me … so fucking much.
“Yes, I just said he’s the one who went with me to—”
“No. That’s not what I’m talking about. He’s the one you loved. The one we talked about. You said he’s with someone else, but not married. I told you to go knock on his door.”
After several blinks, she pinched the bridge of her nose. “Why do you think it’s him?”
“That’s not an answer.”
“It’s not him.”
“Fuck …” I rubbed my temples. My head hurt. “I didn’t see that coming.”
“Why?
“Well, because he casually mentioned having not seen you since you agreed to marry him and broke off the engagement all within twenty-four hours.”
She wet her lips and rubbed them together but offered no immediate response.
“I told him you were back in Denver. He said to tell you hi. So …” I laughed, but it wasn’t funny. “You were going to marry Brendon for two seconds, and he’s not the guy you were talking about? The other guy must be quite something if he’s the one you think about when you think of love instead of the guy you said yes to marrying.”
She whispered, “He is.”
“Is he the reason you broke up with Brendon?”
“No. I … I only said yes to Brendon because he asked me in front of a group of people, and I didn’t want to embarrass him. The reason I didn’t marry him was because I still hadn’t done anything for myself. And I wasn’t ready for Wife and Mother to be my new titles and full-time profession, which was funny because I had been watching all these babies come into the world. And I was longing for a husband like the men holding their wives’ hands. The love. The family. I wanted it, just not yet. And I didn’t want it with Brendon. And that truly sucked because he was … I’m sure still is an amazing, kind, smart, and loving man. Just not the one for me.”
I had no chance.
“What if I can’t live up to him? Will I be the next Brendon?”
“No. You won’t be the next Brendon because he got a parting gift, I suppose.”
“What was that?”
“My virginity.”
What the fuck?
“You loved someone else, but Brendon from church took your virginity?”
“Took might be a strong word. I gave it to him. Persuaded him to take it.” She sheepishly glanced up at me.
“Why didn’t you give it to the guy you loved?”
Her lips twitched like she was holding back a grin. “He didn’t want it.”
“What?” Did I hear her right?
“He knew the timing wasn’t right for us. And he knew, at the time, that I had mixed emotions about my V-card. After Rory going to prison, my dad dying, and attending a Christian academy while living with my ultra-conservative grandparents … Jesus, God, and every chapter of the Bible haunted me.”
“But you wanted to have sex with him?”
Again, she bit back a smirk. “Yes.”
I hated the fucker. “I rescind what I told you about him. Don’t go knock on his door. He doesn’t deserve you. If he didn’t have the balls to man the fuck up when you chose him, then he didn’t deserve it or you. He choked, and that’s pretty pathetic.”
She laughed. “Yeah, well … I didn’t look at it like that. So let’s not stone him for his decision. Besides, you have some things in common with him.”
“Such as?” I widened my stance, crossing my hands over my chest.
“You weren’t going to let me go past second base.”
“Fuck. Stop. Just … no. We are never talking about that again. It was a joke. I would have hit the damn home run and you know it.”
Reese shouldered past me with some attitude. “Sure. Sure. That’s what he said.”
“He’s an idiot.”
A giggle left her lips. “Sometimes.”
When I caught up to her in my bathroom, I shrugged off my shirt and sat on the vanity bench. She placed a towel on my legs to catch the hair. It fell to the floor when I spread my legs to pull her between them.
She giggled again and turned on the trimmers as I rested my face in her chest and inhaled slowly. God … I loved every second I got to spend with her. “I missed you,” I murmured.
“It’s only been five days.” She ran her free hand through my hair, and it sent shivers down my spine.
“And nights,” I said, lifting my head. “Nights too. Don’t forget nights.”
“Because we’ve spent so many nights together?” She started trimming my beard.
We hadn’t, and it was a crime. I needed to rectify that immediately.
“You’re with me every night. In my dreams. You’re naked, except for my tool belt. You’re always wearing my tool belt.”
She laughed. “Sounds interesting. Am I building something?”
“No. You’re always just teasing me.” Haunting me … she haunted me every night.
“Funny. In my dreams, you’re always a baby with an adult head, sucking a pacifier.”
Smart ass …
“Not funny.” I gripped the back of her thighs, and she jumped.
“Careful. And it’s actually quite funny.”
She could laugh at me. I didn’t care. All that mattered was her saying that I was in fact in her dreams. And she was in my bathroom, nestled between my legs with her tits in my face and her fingers tracing the lines of my face after every stroke with the trimmers.
“Perfect. As usual.” She set the trimmers on the counter. “Well, my trim is perfect, considering what I had to work with.”
I liked her goading me. I liked her … everything. I just … liked her so fucking much.
“I’ll grab the vac hose to sweep up the mess.”
“Leave it,” I murmured, pulling her closer.
Again, she pressed her delicate hands to my face. “So handsome,” she whispered.
It felt like heaven. Closing my eyes, I took a long breath.
“Did you tell your therapist about me? I know it’s none of my business, but—”
“Yes.” I opened my eyes. “I told her I’m engaged to a woman I’ve known nearly my whole life. But I’m in love with a woman I’ve known for a breath, maybe two.”
She pulled in a shaky breath like I stole it from her. I wanted to take her breath away. It was the most stunning sight.
“You love me?” she whispered.
I shrugged. “I’m assuming that’s what this annoying feeling is.”
“Annoying feeling?” She narrowed her eyes.
“The increased heart rate I get just from thinking about you. The stupid smile that I can’t seem to wipe off my face because I’m thinking about you all the damn time.”
She grinned, and I wanted to capture it and the feeling in my chest, locking both in a safe place so I could have them on the days that weren’t so amazing, the days I didn’t get my Reese fix.
“The dreams,” I continued. “The driving by your house just to see if your car is there. Lack of focus on anything or anyone but you. It’s … it’s bad.” I lifted my gaze to hers filled with tears. “What about you? Do you have any feelings toward me? Or do you just want into my pants? Be honest … am I the girl in this relationship?”
“Fisher …” she whispered.
I had her. All of her? I didn’t know. Was there still some guy out there who held her heart even if he didn’t take her virginity? Could I compete with her first real love?
Sh
e pressed her lips to mine, and I forgot about any other guy because in that moment I. Had. Her.
And I wanted all of her.
My fingers found the waist of her jeans, and she didn’t stop me when I unbuttoned them and eased down the zipper. She was ineffable, taking my breath away. Not just one breath … all of them.
As I kissed the skin next to her panties, she threaded her fingers through my hair and whispered, “I love you, my lost fisherman.”
Her lost fisherman …
Was I truly lost? Or was I found for possibly the first time in my life?
I guess it didn’t matter what she said as long it started with the word “my.” I’d be anything as long it involved being hers.
“This is so messy,” she whispered as I gazed up at her.
“That’s how we know it’s real.” I stood, removing her shirt while she lifted her arms, offering me everything.
When my lips found hers again, I eased her bra straps off her shoulders, wanting to feel the warmth of her skin next to mine.
She reached around and unhooked it, letting it fall to the floor between us. Fuck the old memories … I just wanted the ones I was making with her in that very moment.
The tickle of her fingertips along my abs.
The eruption of goose bumps along her skin as the pad of my thumb brushed her nipple, it hardening under my touch.
The growl in my own chest that I almost didn’t recognize.
The slow dance to the bed.
My new memory took photos of her heavy gaze on me as she reclined onto the bed … as I peeled off her jeans. “Not even death will take this memory away from me.”
More emotion filled her eyes. And I kissed my way up her body, tasting her slowly while sliding off her panties.
Her hips lurched from the mattress. “Fisher …”
I couldn’t hide my grin, the high it gave me to unravel her slowly. As I made my way up her body, she opened her legs wider, teasing my chest with her fingers, my abs, and the muscles along my back. My impatience warred with my greater desire which was to make it last for as long as possible. Guiding her onto her stomach, I kissed the sexy curve of her backside, memorizing all of it. Then I saw something … ink.
I grinned against her skin. “What … do we have here?” I nudged her butt toward the window to get some light for a better look. “A tattoo? You have a tattoo?” I didn’t see that coming, not in a million years.
She twisted to glance back at me.
“Callipygian,” I read her tattoo slowly.
“I was drunk, hence the hidden tattoo on my butt. It means—”
“It means you have a shapely ass. Alcohol makes you confident and a little vain.” I laughed just before biting it. For some reason, that hidden tattoo made me want her exponentially more. I had a feeling that she might never stop surprising me, and that made me … possessive.
It made me resent everything Angie had supposedly been in my life. It made me resent my family’s love for her. It made me want to strangle Brendon for proposing to her and do even worse things to the guy she first loved.
“Ouch!” She wriggled beneath my hold, rolling onto her back. “How do you know that word?”
I nudged my way between her knees. “Because I have the same word tattooed on my ass.”
“You do not.” She giggled, reaching for my hair as my mouth dipped between her spread legs, making her squirm, moan, and breath heavily. “Stop teasing me,” she pleaded with a strained voice, her fingers gripping my hair harder.
I sucked her clit, and one of her hands released my hair and smacked the mattress, clawing at the sheet as she gasped.
I did that to her. Not Brendon. Not the pathetic guy who wouldn’t take her virginity. Me. Only me. So fuck them. They had their chance and blew it. I had no intention of ever letting another guy have a chance with her.
“Don’t hurry me.” I kissed my way up her body before retrieving a condom from the unopened box I bought the day we went to Target. My ego gobbled up the expression on her face.
That’s right, Reese. There was no way I could have sex with Angie again after that day in Target.
“Wipe that grin off your face.” She rolled on top of me, pinning my arms next to my head, her hair falling around my face. I was done. All patience vanished as she lowered her mouth to mine.
As I guided her hips over me.
As she sat up, eyes heavy.
As I pushed inside of her.
My past? What past?
I sat up and kissed her so hard I thought I might bruise her lips as I fought to stay in control. My greedy hands explored every inch of her body. Being inside of her, the sweet taste of her tongue flicking against mine, the intense pressure of her fingers digging into my back, and her legs wrapped around me … it stole every last bit of reason in my head.
When she came, I crashed my mouth to hers, swallowing every breath, every moan, just … all of her.
“My therapist is going to be really pissed off with me,” I laughed as she rolled toward me, nestling her body to mine, her face in my neck. One of my hands claimed her butt while I buried my nose in her hair, inhaling the floral scent.
“Why?”
“Because she told me to take a step back, to not get distracted by the physical part of my relationships.”
“I’d get a second opinion. Because in my humble opinion, we should do this again … maybe even a lot.”
Again, I laughed. “I second that opinion.” Giving her head a quick kiss, I rolled over and sat on the edge of the bed. “I’m going to take a shower. You should join me.”
Reese sat up, hugging me, her perfect tits pressed to my back as she bit my earlobe. “I’m going home. You distracted me with sex, but I wasn’t done telling the world about the birth I witnessed.”
Twisting by torso, I glanced back at her. “Are you saying the birth was more memorable than the sex?”
Jumping out of bed, she threw on her clothes like the house was on fire. “I’m saying it’s my constitutional right to not answer your question.”
“You can’t plead the Fifth on this.” I snatched my shorts from the floor and headed to the bathroom.
“Did you hear me say that birth was one in eighty thousand?”
After donning sweatpants and a tee, I returned to the bedroom, leaning against the threshold, crossing my arms over my chest. “Tonight, you were one in a billion … times infinity. But if I didn’t live up to one in eighty thousand, then I think we’re done here.” Total bullshit. We were never done.
“You’re right.” She squeezed past me and retrieved her shirt from the bathroom floor. “Angie has been giving you everything. She wants you to remember how you felt about her. And if I were wearing a diamond ring you gave me, I’d probably be doing the same thing. Retelling our story to you a thousand different ways. But for me, it doesn’t matter if you loved me then, it only matters if you love me now.”
I turned toward her.
She gave me a sad smile. “Just … love me today.”
Done.
“I love you today,” I whispered.
She smiled like I returned the right answer. “Thought you were going to shower.”
“After I drive you home.”
Her grin grew as she stepped toward me, taking my hand and guiding me to the front door. “You’re one, Fisher.”
“One in what?” I asked.
“Not in anything. Not one in eight thousand. Not one in a billion times infinity. You’re just one. The one.”
She slayed me with one of my favorite things—words.
Fisher
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Commitments I made with my family and with Angie kept me from Reese for days. Her work schedule robbed us of one last chance for a goodbye before I had to board a plane to Costa Rica with Angie.
The end wasn’t coming soon enough for me. My altruism started to fade. It wasn’t that I didn’t love my family and understand their love for Angie. It wasn’t that
I didn’t see it a little bit from Angie’s perspective either. Our long friendship and the years we were more than friends meant something to her, and it probably meant something to the pre-accident version of myself. But time wouldn’t change the outcome.
I loved Reese. Period.
On Friday morning, I stole a moment to call her, hoping she wasn’t already working.
“Hey!” she answered with such enthusiasm my heart nearly busted from my chest. God … I missed her.
“Good morning. You working?”
“On my way now.”
“Well, I fucking hate that I didn’t get to say goodbye in person.”
“It’s life.”
“Not the life I want.”
“Yeah, in-person goodbyes should be mandatory. How is Costa Rica?”
“Green.”
She laughed, and it fed my starving soul.
“What’s on the agenda for today?”
“Apparently massages and rehearsal dinner.”
“Massages, huh?” There was a change in her voice. A little less jovial. “Sounds relaxing. I could use a massage.”
“I’ll massage you when I get home.”
“Mmm … that would be amazing. How’s your room?”
“It’s nice.”
There was a pause. I didn’t know what to say because the only words that ran through my mind were, “I miss you so damn much.”
“Where are you?” she asked.
“Just finished jogging on the beach. I’m in the lobby. I need to go back to the room and shower.”
“Angie doesn’t jog?”
“She was still asleep.”
“Oh … are you sharing a room?”
I cringed. Total asshole for letting that slip. There was nothing to hide, but she didn’t know that because I was too damn far away to make her look at me, to kiss her, to remind her in every way that she was it for me. Absolutely everything.
“Uh … yeah. The place is booked.” I played it cool, not trying to sound guilty when I hadn’t really done anything wrong.
“So you tried to get your own room?”