by L. B. Dunbar
“Look, it’s not something I like to talk about,” I say, my voice sharper than necessary. She doesn’t respond.
Finally, we near her house.
“Why don’t I walk you home?” she suggests, noting Trevor leaning on her and Oliver continually sliding down my weary arms. Jesus, when did he get so heavy?
I nod in gratitude, once again finding I’m either saying I’m sorry or thank you to her. When we eventually stand before Anna’s front door, River lowers to hug a sleepy Trevor, who collapses against her and probably doesn’t realize she’s hugging him. Standing upright, she kisses the back of Oliver’s head, rubbing a hand down his back afterward. In only days, she’s been sweeter to my boys than their mother had been in seven years.
Last, she looks at me. “Let’s negotiate.”
My brows lift. “What do you mean?”
“You tell me your story, and I’ll watch your boys for a day.”
“No deal.” I scoff. That’s not even a trade-off.
She leans in, lowering her lids. Her gaze lingers on my lips. “What would you like instead?”
“You,” I admit. She wants my story, and I want her, even if it is only a ten-day fling, or eight, or wherever we’re at. After watching her interact with my friends and love on my boys all night, I know there hasn’t been anyone like her in my life.
Anna’s words haunt me. Spend time with the right people.
River is the right person.
“I’ll seek counsel and get back to you.” She winks as I jostle a heavy Oliver to halt his slide down my body.
“You’re terrible at negotiation,” I say with a laugh.
“My grandfather would say, never settle for less than what you want.” Her voice drops to imitate the male figure she mentions. Then she leans forward to kiss my cheek before backing away. “I had fun tonight. I really needed that.”
The comment surprises me, but I don’t have the chance to ask for details before she’s finger waving at Trevor and retreating down the driveway.
Damn, Anna’s right. I really like this woman. I might even be able to love her.
+ + +
Later, the boys are in bed, and I’m pacing my bedroom when I decide to text River, unable to wait out her seek counsel comment.
Me: I couldn’t take the deal. It wasn’t fair. I wouldn’t want my boys to spend a day with you when I haven’t had the chance.
I have River’s number because I left her mine on the day we began building the tree fort. I didn’t want my boys wandering into her yard uninvited, and I especially didn’t want them messing with the tree fort before we had it safely restructured.
She sends me a text in response. Immediately, I glance out my bedroom window like the creepy stalker I’ve become with this woman.
River: Come spend the day with us tomorrow then. I promised the boys a maiden voyage in their new tree fort. Although a voyage suggests a ship, they seem to have a good imagination.
I had a good imagination as well, but it is nothing compared to the reality of my mouth on her. Her lips. Her skin. Her sweet pussy. My dick hardens, and I swipe a hand through my hair. I’m becoming a mess over this woman, but I can’t seem to stop myself. I want her in the time I have here at Lakeside.
Scanning her dark yard again, I don’t see her outside, but suddenly, I need five minutes with her. Maybe ten. I didn’t get a decent good night kiss, and I need one.
Me: I have an imagination, too. I imagine us meeting in your yard in ten minutes.
River: You have quite the imagination then. I’m almost ready for bed.
Dammit, I want to join her there. Even if all I do is wrap myself around her and kiss her, I want to feel her body against mine. It’s been almost twenty-four hours, and that’s been too long.
Me: Just ten minutes. I can be quick. I recall how quickly she came last night, two times, and I want a repeat. I’ll give her ten orgasms if she’ll just meet me in her yard.
River: Just took my clothes off. A smiley face emoji follows, and I realize I might need a little longer than ten minutes with her.
Me: Clothing optional then. I respond with my own winky face emoji and wonder who I’ve become. I don’t emoji. I don’t do smiley faces, and I don’t think I’ve ever tried to flirt through text messages.
Only for River would I do such a thing.
River: 10. For half a second, I wonder if she’s read my thoughts about those ten orgasms, and then I realize she means minutes. She’ll give me ten minutes, and I’m racing for the door, shooting off a text, begging Calvin, Anna’s oldest, to listen for my boys. The older boys have been exceptional at dealing with my younger ones, and I owe Bryce and Calvin. Hell, I’ll pay for their college education if it buys me time with the woman next door.
When I enter River’s yard, I find her near the cliff. There’s a sharp drop off the property but a staircase nearby with roughly the same number of stairs to descend to the beach below as Anna’s next door. I would know. I helped my dad repair them year after year.
River’s back is to me as I approach, and I place my hands on her hips, leaning in to kiss her neck. Unfortunately, she’s dressed, but I’m not complaining.
“I didn’t get a proper good night kiss. I’m here to collect.”
“I think you’re the one with poor negotiation skills.” She spins in my arms, and her hands land on my chest. She immediately drops her gaze to my lips.
“How’s that, angel?” I tease, licking my lower lip before biting it, and observe her eyes widen as she watches me.
“You shouldn’t be jealous of your boys.”
This surprises me. “I’m not.”
“Lawyers shouldn’t lie.” She tilts her head, glancing up to my eyes as she calls me out. I peek up at the lake in the distance behind her. She’s right. I am jealous. She promised time with them and hadn’t asked me to join.
If you want something, you should ask for it. Hadn’t I been doing that? Maybe she’s the one who doesn’t want time with me.
“You’re so good with them, and they adore you.”
“Well, I adore them.”
I adore her, and I want her to like me, too. “I suck at flirting,” I say instead of my actual thought and recall our first kiss and how she turned me down for more that night. I’m still fucking up if she likes my kids but isn’t so certain about me.
“You’re getting better at it. Like anything, it takes practice.” Her hands have slid upward, and her fingertips massage the back of my neck.
“Mason’s good at flirting.”
“I don’t want Mason,” she says, her tone clear.
“He was flirting with you at Logan’s.” I sound like a jealous teenager, but I don’t want River falling for Mason. It occurs to me that Mason presently lives next door, and he’ll be sticking around for longer than ten days. I don’t like the possibility that River and Mason could have more time. The proximity is too tempting. Then again, Mason already said River wasn’t his type, and if it wasn’t that I knew who his type was, I’d call out his bullshit.
“That’s just who Mason is. I have his number,” she knowingly states. I imagine many men have hit on River over the years. She might have a whole little black book of numbers.
“And what number is that?” I question, tugging at her hips to pull her tighter to me.
“Zero.” She slowly smiles. “He has zero chance with me.”
“And what about me?” What are my chances of getting more from her? Getting to know her better? Being more than zero with her?
“It’s up for negotiation.” She laughs after her statement, and I join her laughter.
“I don’t have long tonight,” I say, getting back to my purpose.
“Where are your boys?”
“In bed. I bribed Calvin to listen for them. I told him I’d only be half an hour tops.” I pause, biting my lower lip and watching her repeat the motion. “But I couldn’t sleep without a good night kiss from you. I want to feel your lips on mine and smell you
r scent on my fingers.”
She blows out a breath. “You might be getting better at this flirting thing.”
“You think?” I tease, lowering my voice.
Her response is to chew at her smile.
“Then how about this?” I release her hips and cup her jaw, bringing her mouth to mine in a searing kiss. The last twenty-four hours slam into me as too much time apart from this mouth. It’s been forever since I’ve really kissed anyone, but River’s lips are an endless well I want to drink from. Her name is appropriate. She’s quenching a thirst I’ve had for too long.
My hands quickly roam down her body. Shaky fingers slip to her neck, cascading down each side of the column. My palms caress over her shoulders and down her arms to her wrists. Jumping to her hips, I slide my hands up the front of her, palming each breast in a needy squeeze. She isn’t wearing a bra, and the heavy globes fill my palms.
She yelps against my mouth, but I don’t break the kiss. Instead, I massage the swells, pressing them together before lowering my forefinger and thumb to pinch her nipples in tandem. The sharp nubs poke at the thin material of her dress. I release her mouth and lower for one breast, nipping at her over the light fabric.
“I need to touch you.” My voice strains. That magnetic force is so strong, and I can’t fight the attraction. I don’t want to fight it. One hand fists the side of her dress and scrunches up the fabric. The other outlines the swell of her hip before sliding forward and slipping between her thighs. Her hands clutch at my shoulders for support as I discover she isn’t wearing underwear.
“Sweet Jesus, tell me you weren’t bare down there during dinner?”
“And if I was?” she teases, kissing the side of my neck.
“I should have taken you around the house and fucked you senseless.”
The sharp intake of her breath hints she might have liked that. The warmth of her soaked center confirms my thought. Slowly, I dip a finger inside her.
Her breath catches again, but she still speaks. “I wasn’t bare, but you know me, I can’t keep my clothes on.” During dinner, my friends razzed her with their knowledge of her naked time in her yard.
“I hate that they saw you naked,” I hiss, drawing my finger back before rushing deeper inside her.
“Why?” She gasps, and her eyes lower as I retreat and stroke my thumb over the spot that will set her off.
“I want you all to myself.” A second finger joins the first, and I slam into her, filling her.
“That’s a bit caveman.” Her complaint is choppy. Her body rocks against my fingers. My thumb finds that nub again.
“Call me a scalawag,” I whisper in her ear. “This treasure belongs to me.” I nip at her neck as my fingers surge in and out of her.
She laughs, and the pleasing chuckle flips my insides. She’s so . . . fun.
“Getting your pirate on?” Her voice continues to strain, and I twist my wrist, reaching deeper within her. She groans, and the throaty sound is rough and deep like her pirate imitation earlier in the day.
“Plan to plunder the seven seas and one beautiful, ravishing River.” My mouth seeks hers as my fingers work through slick folds. Her hands slip down my chest to my waist, and she’s dipping into my shorts before I can stop her.
“River,” I warn.
“Compromise,” she whispers. Reaching into my shorts, she wraps her fingers around me. I’m hot and stiff in her eager palm, and she squeezes me with confidence as my fingers fuck her. She strokes and tugs while I slide through her channel. My hips buck forward, and hers match mine. I want to be inside her, but I don’t want to stop touching her. I don’t want her to stop touching me.
“You’re gonna make me come,” I groan, nipping at her neck again while my fingers slip through her moisture and my thumb flicks over her clit. My hand on her. Her hand on me. It’s too much. She’s a pirate seeking buried treasure, and I’m so close to exposing it. She could easily find my heart, and I’d have no way to protect myself.
Her fist moves faster, swiping her own thumb over my seeping slit, using the liquid against me. My fingers retreat to the brink of her entrance before rushing upward to fill her again and again. Her head tips to the side, and I scrape my teeth along her neck. My hips thrust, forcing my dick against her palm and my fingers deeper into her.
“Zack,” she whimpers in warning, and I love the sound of my name mixing with the catch in her throat.
“That’s it, angel.” Her legs stiffen as they did the other night, and then her knees give. Holding her around her waist, I keep her close, allowing her to lean on me. My fingers ride the tide of her falling apart, and her hand works faster over my swollen shaft. I don’t have time to warn her before I’m spewing like a geyser.
“Damn,” I mutter, making a mess on her fist and my shorts. When I pull my fingers free, I lift them to my lips, catching the scent of her, and then suck them clean in my mouth. She removes her hand from my dick and licks across her palm. My mouth falls open in shock before she smiles, and I cup her jaw, crashing my mouth over hers. I want to mix the combination of her flavor with the taste of me on her tongue. Swirling around hers, I blend us together, savoring everything about her. This woman shocks me to my core, but I love it, and I’m at great risk of falling for her.
Or flying, as Anna called it, just as Ben had. I still think they’ve both misspoken, but it doesn’t matter.
Sensing my time is almost up, I reluctantly pull back from River’s mouth and press my forehead against hers.
“River, you’re amazing,” I whisper, closing my eyes with our heads together. My hands still hold the edge of her face.
“You’re not so bad yourself, counselor. Your art of negotiation is improving, too.”
I chuckle. She’s the one I thought needed improvement in this area, but I realize there’s a lot I could learn from her.
“Would tomorrow be too soon to spend a day with you? Me and the boys?” I sheepishly ask, not wanting to break her promise to my sons but inserting myself into the plans.
“Tomorrow sounds like a date,” she teases, pulling back to look me in the face. “And bring your story with you.”
She winks, and I’m captured. I’m going to confess all my dark secrets, and then she’s no longer going to adore me as I’d hoped.
12
[River]
It’s barely nine in the morning when a sharp whoop and a loud holler pull my attention to my backyard. Running across the lawn are two T-shirt-clad pirates, complete with eye patches, bandanas, and pirate hats. One carries the telescope. Another holds a plastic sword.
Oh boy.
I exit into the yard through the sliding glass doors and find a sheepish father rounding the house, scratching at the back of his neck.
“I’m sorry it’s early. They’ve been up for hours. I held them back as long as I could.”
“It’s fine,” I say with a wave. “Coffee?”
Zack shakes his head. “I’ve already had two cups.”
“Be right back then,” I say, pointing at the house and then pause. “Want to come in?”
Zack turns to look at the back of the house before glancing at me. “Another time.” He points toward the tree house. “I better watch them.”
As I enter the house to make myself a cup of tea, I watch Zack stand below my tree, gazing up at his boys tipping over the low walls of the tree fort. Trevor holds the telescope outward as if scanning the lake. Oliver drops through the entrance and scrambles down the new ladder. A swing was added as the platform was extended, and Oliver climbs onto it. He pumps his little legs while Zack slips his hands into his pockets and watches his son.
I don’t suspect he’s speaking to them. He’s such a strange man when it comes to his boys. I don’t understand why he isn’t more affectionate with them. Then again, some people just aren’t. Quincy admitted he was a distant father. A disciplining man. He let his wife be the soft one in their parenting. His children are even older than me, and I’m grateful I’m no
t technically related to them.
I continue to hold on to the hope that Zack can be different.
Returning to the yard with my tea, I stretch out on the chaise. The day will be warm, and I’m dressed in shorts and a tank top. This is my day off, and I plan to devote the entire day to the Weller men.
“Kept my clothes on for you,” I tease, and Zack turns around. Slowly, he makes his way to the lounger and crawls up next to me.
“I wish you would take them off.”
“Now?” I flirt, tilting my head and giving him a teasing smile.
“Definitely not now,” he says, pouting in that way he does.
“So, no friends-cation activities today.” From my understanding of things, the group is gathered in both memorial to their friend and a new tradition that began a year ago. It sounds like roughly the time I moved into the house. Their days are packed with activities for the crew that includes adults and kids ranging from teenagers down to an infant.
“The only rule is dinner together every night. Ben didn’t want us to feel confined to schedules, but he also didn’t want us each going our separate ways, especially Mason, who has a tendency to wander and shack up with random women.”
“And Zack would never do that,” I tease, shaking my head, knowing enough about this man that random isn’t his style. However, I am curious if he’s been with anyone since his divorce.
“Zack doesn’t do that,” he admits. “I’ve already told you, the last one-night stand I had turned into my wife.”
“And how long have you been divorced?” It’s the perfect opening to learn more about father and sons.
“Since March.” Zack squints up at his boys. “It was this time last year that I learned of Jeanine’s affair. It’d been going on for a while with some young intern in her office. She said she couldn’t come on vacation with us here because she had a business trip in France. Paris. Conveniently romantic for business. Turns out, she took her own vacation with the boy toy.”