by Dylann Crush
Alex opened his mouth to fire off a quick response. But dammit, Gramps was right. Alex had done the same damn thing. All the years he stayed away, he’d been putting his own needs first.
“Hell, by the time I was your age I had a wife, a stable nine-to-five, and two kids to feed. Don’t try to talk to me about my choices.”
“I’m not. You made choices. You saddled yourself with a wife and kids before you had a chance to have fun. Dad did the same thing. Then his life blew up in front of his face and he didn’t have time to do all the things he put off while he raised a family.”
“You talked to your dad about this?” Gramps asked. His salt-and-pepper eyebrows knit together.
“Just once.”
“And that’s what your dad told you? That he wished he’d made different choices?”
“No, of course not. He told me what he thought I wanted to hear. That Char and I were the most important things in the world to him. That even if he had it all to do over again, he’d have done the same thing.” Alex glanced over at his grandfather. His father’s eyes looked back at him. Why hadn’t he inherited the same eyes as his dad and his gramps? It was spooky how similar his dad looked to Gramps. So similar that at times Alex almost mistook the older man for his father.
“He told you that because it’s true.” Gramps’s gaze drilled into Alex’s.
Alex looked away first.
“You listen to me and listen good,” Gramps warned. “Your dad loved you and Charlene more than anything. It’s true he had different plans, plans that didn’t involve marrying your mama and becoming a dad at such a young age. But he wouldn’t have changed a thing. Y’all were the most important people in the world to him.”
Alex blinked back the threat of any emotion forcing its way through. “You don’t think he would have been happier if he hadn’t gotten bogged down with a wife and a baby right out of high school?”
“No,” Gramps said. He meant it, too. Alex could tell by the way his grandfather held his gaze. Nothing but truth shone through those blue eyes.
“You think I should stay here then. Help out with Char and the girls?”
Gramps laid a weathered hand over his. “No, son. But I think you need to take a long look at what you want out of life. Because right now I think you’re just trying to run away from your daddy’s past mistakes.”
Alex stared straight ahead, past the dashboard of the truck, past the stretch of asphalt in front of him. He’d been on the go for so long he’d almost forgotten what made him start running in the first place. All of it came back now. The fear of getting trapped in a life he didn’t want. The threat of someone having a claim to him. The feeling of being suffocated by the expectations of the ones he loved most.
“You think about it.” Gramps removed his hand and faced forward. Evidently the heart-to-heart had ended.
They rode the rest of the way back to the Phillips House in silence. Alex tried to think of a way to justify his decisions over the past few years. Nothing came to mind. Gramps was right. Here he thought he’d been so brave by charting new territory, exploring places he’d only read about in books as a kid, playing off his never-ending trips as an adventure and a lifestyle choice. Why had it taken him so long to realize the only thing he’d been doing was running away from his fear of turning out just like his dad?
twenty-eight
The afternoon passed in a whirlwind of taking care of dogs, making phone calls to other rescue centers near and far, and trying to calm down Lacey, who’d received three other wedding referrals from Chyna. Zina took a final walk-through of the warehouse before she turned toward the house and let the volunteers take over for the night.
She was beat. The ordeal with the wedding planner, the fake rehearsal, the strange conversation with Alex . . . it had all taken its toll. All she wanted was to grab a quick bite and turn in early. So when she stepped into the house, she was unprepared for the scent of something bubbling away on the stove. A combination of spices tickled her nose and made her stomach growl in appreciation.
“Zina, is that you?” Alex called from the kitchen.
She followed his voice, determined to find the source of the deliciousness. “What are you doing?”
Alex pulled the kitchen door open, and the smell of cumin, ginger, and garlic swirled around her, making her mouth water. With all of the excitement this morning she hadn’t had a chance to grab lunch.
“Hungry?” Alex asked. He held a giant spoon in one hand and a pot holder in the other. He looked like a very scruffy, younger version of Jamie Oliver, ready to take on the world, one spice at a time.
“What’s this?” She glanced around the kitchen, her gaze resting on a pot of something delectable simmering on the stove.
“I figured you’d be tired so I went ahead and whipped up some dinner for us. How spicy do you like your curry? One pepper? Two?” He stepped in front of the stove and lifted the lid off the stockpot.
“You made curry for dinner?” She could tell just by the way it smelled that it was going to be delicious.
“Chicken tikka masala. It’s not really curry. A friend of mine who owns a restaurant in England taught me how.”
“And how did you meet a restaurant owner in England?” It shouldn’t surprise her. Alex had all kinds of stories about the people he’d met while traveling the world. The only place she’d been outside of Texas in the past ten years was her stint in Afghanistan. And she didn’t have much of a chance to sample the local cuisine or make a lot of friends while she was there.
“I met him while diving in the Maldives. He said he was opening a restaurant outside of London and told me to stop by if I ever found myself on that side of the world.”
“I should have known better than to ask.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because you’ve been so many places. I can only imagine the kinds of experiences you’ve had traveling the world.”
“Ready to eat?”
“Dish it up. I’m starving.”
She took a seat at the table while Alex spooned rice and whatever it was he’d made into two bowls. By the time he grabbed a plate full of naan and brought it to the table, she was ready to pass out from hunger.
“I went a little easy on the spice for you.”
“For me?” With her fork poised at the edge of her bowl, she eyed him. “I was born and raised in Texas. What makes you think I can’t handle my spice?”
“It’s a different kind of spice. Trust me.” He dug into his dish and slid a bite into his mouth.
At that point Zina wasn’t going to argue over how much heat she could handle. She took a big bite and let the flavors roll over her tongue. It wasn’t fair that someone could be blessed with his good looks and his skills between the sheets, and still be able to put a delicious meal on the table. Not when he was planning on leaving.
“What do you think?” His eyebrows lifted. He wanted to impress her and it showed.
“It’s okay.” No need to let him know how much she enjoyed it. The man clearly didn’t suffer from a bruised ego. He knew his strengths.
“Just okay?” He grinned, obviously aware she was trying to pull one over on him.
“No, it’s not just okay. It’s freaking fantastic. When do you even get a chance to practice your cooking skills? I mean, you travel all the time. How often do you find yourself somewhere with a stocked kitchen?”
“So you do like it.” The side of his mouth quirked up in a smug smile.
“I don’t like it, I love it.” She slid another melt-in-your-mouth bite past her lips. “Actually, I more than love it. What’s more than love?”
“Hmm. You adore it?”
She nodded, her mouth full.
“Or maybe you just adore the man who introduced you to this culinary phenom?” He rested his elbows on the table and leaned toward her.
/> She tried not to laugh with her mouth full. It would serve his cocky ass right if he ended up with a face full of whatever awesomeness he’d concocted.
“Call it what you want, but I seriously need this in my life. You need to show me how to make it so I can have it while you’re . . .” Her voice trailed off and it hit her. When the wedding was over, Alex was going. All of this, everything they’d shared over the past several weeks, would be nothing but a memory. A temporary pause on his never-ending journey. She was a pit stop. Nothing more than a chance to rest, refill, and move on.
“While I’m what?” His voice dropped lower. In the short time she’d known him, she’d come to love the way his tone grew deeper when they started to discuss something serious.
“You know.” She let her fork rest against the side of her dish. Two minutes ago she’d been ravenous. But now, with the promise of his eventual departure hanging between them, she’d lost her appetite. Not even the mouthwatering blend of spices and sauce could sway her to eat another bite.
“What if I didn’t?”
“Didn’t what?” Her heart skittered like a needle scratching across an old record.
“Didn’t . . . you know.”
“Wait, are we both talking about the same ‘you know’ here?”
His shoulders rose and fell in a shrug. An adorable smile danced across his extremely kissable lips. He knew exactly what she meant. He was playing with her, stringing her along.
She placed a palm on his chest and gave him a playful push. “Don’t tease.”
He wrapped his hand around hers, demanding her attention. Her gaze met his. “I’m not teasing. At least not about this. What if I stayed?”
The question wedged itself into the sliver of space between them. She didn’t know how to respond. If she acted too excited, would she scare him off? If she were too nonchalant, would he change his mind?
“Well?”
“I’d love it if you’d . . . you know.” A grin threatened to split her serious expression in two.
“All right then. It’s settled.” He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. “After the wedding, I’ll find a place to stay. We can try this on for real.”
“Just like that?”
“Doesn’t need to be more complicated, right?”
She didn’t trust herself to react with anything but a nod. The thought of him sticking around for a bit gave her hope. Maybe she wasn’t destined to be alone. Maybe the universe had some magical, mystical plan that would set her up with a chance for happiness.
The mood lightened and they joked around while they ate the rest of their dinner. Alex did a spot-on imitation of Chyna after she lost her hat. Zina almost fell out of her chair from laughing. After the dishes had been washed, dried, and put away, he held out a hand. “You want to try out that tub?”
“What are you going to do while I’m soaking?” She took the hand he offered and they moved toward the stairs.
“What do you mean? I measured and there’s plenty of room in that tub for two.”
* * *
* * *
They didn’t make it to the bathtub. Alex had barely shut the bedroom door behind them when Zina whirled around and pressed him up against the wall. Her lips were hungry, as eager for him as his were for her. The length of her body aligned with his, her soft curves a perfect fit against his hard planes. He’d been anticipating this night for weeks. Every time she’d brushed against him, every time they’d accidentally touched, every time she’d looked at him with that combination of heat and hope in her eyes, it had stoked the fire she’d ignited when he first set eyes on her.
He pushed off the door and backed her toward the bed. The need to feel every bare inch of her against his skin drove his hands under her shirt. His fingers trailed up and over her ribs while goose bumps pebbled her skin. Her hands worked his shirt up while she continued nipping and sucking at his lips.
When the backs of her legs hit the bed, she fell backward, pulling him down on top of her. He shifted to the side so he didn’t hurt her, although Zina had shown him on more than one occasion that she wasn’t fragile or delicate or one who’d be so easily overcome. The woman was strong, capable, and not afraid to take what she wanted.
His hands roamed over her full hips, kneading the roundness of her ass. She moaned into his mouth, breaking contact just long enough for him to flip her on her back.
He got to his hands and knees and hovered over her. “How about you lose the shirt?” Her chest rose and fell with her breath, making him eager to get his hands on her.
Her brow edged up. “I will if you will.”
“Done.” He reached over his shoulder and jerked his shirt up and over his head in one smooth move.
She laughed. “Someone’s feeling frisky tonight.” Then she slowly unfastened the bottom button on her shirt, her gaze never leaving his. A sliver of sun-kissed skin peeked through the slit.
He wanted to bend over and slide his tongue against her, but he didn’t want to rush things; he was enjoying the way the heat continued to build between them.
Her tongue flicked out, gliding over her upper lip as she pushed the next button through the hole, exposing another few inches of her stomach.
“You okay there, Captain Jaybird? You’re looking a little hot under the collar. I don’t want you to melt.”
Tempted to growl out his frustration, he kept his cool. “You’re a tease.”
“Hmm.” She moved her hands to the next button. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
Heat coiled in his gut as he held himself back, resisting the overwhelming urge to pop the buttons right off her shirt and let himself run his tongue down the center of her breastbone. He couldn’t wait to taste her skin and show her the real meaning of what it meant to be a tease.
Another button slid through its hole, revealing the bottom band of her bra.
“You draw this out any longer and I might just change my mind,” he teased.
“Oh yeah?” Her fingers gripped the sides of her shirt and pulled them together, cutting off his view of her rib cage. “You have something better to do tonight?”
He shrugged. “Astros are playing pre-season. Maybe I want to check out the game.”
Her mouth split into a knowing grin. “You’d rather watch a bunch of sweaty men toss their balls around than have me fondling yours?”
His dick responded to that comment, growing even thicker and harder as he imagined her doing just that. Faking a direct hit to the heart, he fell onto his side, adjusting himself on the way down. “You’re killing me, Baxter.”
She shed her shirt and straddled him, centering herself directly over his crotch. Her hips glided forward, creating the lightest, sweetest amount of pressure along his growing hard-on. “Well we can’t have that. At least not until I’m done with you.”
Gazing up at her, the light from the bedside lamp casting a glow behind her head, she looked like an angel. An angel whom he’d very much like to strip naked and drive to the brink of madness with his mouth.
He reached behind her and unclasped her bra. Her eyes narrowed as he moved his hands around her rib cage and slid them up to cup her breasts. “Who’s fondling who now?” he whispered.
Her mouth quirked up in a lopsided grin. She had him exactly where she wanted him; he could tell by the way she brushed over his hips, using her body to taunt him. Her breasts were heavy in his hands, and he swept the pads of his thumbs over her nipples. She bit her lower lip and lowered her hips, increasing the pressure, grinding against him.
He’d had enough. He cupped his hands under her ass and lifted up from the bed. Her legs wrapped around his middle, and he held her with one hand while he fumbled with his belt buckle. She didn’t make it easy—her tongue circled his ear, her hands tunneled through his hair. Dammit. Why did he have to wear the button-fly jean
s today?
“Having trouble?” She pulled back enough to meet his gaze.
Hell, she drove him crazy. He’d been holding back, wanting to be gentle, wanting to keep himself in check and make sure she was taken care of before he took control. But now . . . now he wanted to claim her, wipe that smug smirk off her face, and show her what happened when she played with fire.
He dumped her on the bed and jerked his pants down his legs along with his briefs. As he kicked his feet loose, he wrapped a hand around his length. “Is this what you want?”
She licked her lips. If anything, the shift in power turned her on. She let her bra fall forward while she took her time unbuttoning her jeans and slowly sliding them down her legs. While she watched, he grabbed the box he’d stored in the drawer, ripped open a packet, and unrolled a condom.
Stripped down to her birthday suit, she lay back on the bed and propped herself up on an elbow. Then she patted the space next to her and arched a brow. “What are you waiting for?”
* * *
* * *
The look on his face might have made her a little nervous if it were anyone but Alex. She may have pushed him too far, but she was enjoying herself and he could take it. In fact, he seemed to thrive on her smartass remarks and looked like he wanted her just as much as she wanted him.
He crept onto the bed like an animal stalking its prey. She couldn’t suppress the giggle that escaped when she rolled toward the indentation he made on the bed.
“You think this is funny?” His tone dipped low, but the hint of humor in his eyes showed her he wasn’t taking anything too seriously.
“No. I think it’s about time we got on with it. What if I want to watch the Astros play?”
He ducked his head, his mouth connecting with her throat while his palm splayed across her navel. “You’d rather watch baseball?” he murmured against the pulse pounding away in her neck.
There was absolutely nothing she’d rather be doing in this moment than be devoured by this man. Body, mind, and spirit, he’d infiltrated her very soul. But damn, he was fun to tease, so she hitched up a knee and flung her leg over his hip, aligning her core with his tip.