Give Me One Night (McLaughlin Brothers Book 4)

by Jennifer Ashley

  Ryan smooths a lock of hair from my cheek. “I never thought of anyone but you.” His voice softens. “I’m glad we kept finding each other again.”

  “Me too. Things were fantastic between us. Then we got engaged. Where did we go wrong?”

  A flicker of worry enters Ryan’s eyes. “You want to call it off?”

  “No.” I sit up to face him. “I want to be with you for the rest of my life, Ryan McLaughlin. You are my life. But I’ve been so stressed lately that I’m torn between hammering through it or moving to Tahiti and changing my name.”

  “Can I come with you?” Ryan asks hopefully. “We can both change our names. How about Ron and Matilda Smith?”

  “Matilda?” I raise my brows. “You see me as a Matilda?”

  “Okay, how about Zoe Superstar?”

  I press my fist to his chest, my humor restored. “You are so silly.”

  “I feel silly. Must be the apple pie.”

  “Or the chili,” I say. “It was damn good.”

  “Cherise didn’t make it for us,” Ryan says. “Poor girl. I hope she and Milo hit it off and are happy. Like you and me.”

  This is another reason I love him. He can look at Cherise and see her for what she really is—a young woman who went the wrong way because of bad circumstances. Not a slut he might have a chance with. Such a thing wouldn’t even occur to him.

  “I love you,” I whisper.

  “Of course you do. Because I’m king of the grand gesture, prince of the wonderful weekend. Stick with me, babe. You never know what I’ll do next.”

  “You’re a shit.” I roll off the bed—reluctantly—but real life is intruding. “I call dibs on the bathroom.”

  Ryan waves me off. I find a very nicely fitted-out bathroom behind a solid oak door with a clawfoot tub under a shower. Ryan and I take turns, then we bring out the toothbrushes. I’m half asleep but I have to smile as Ryan roams the bathroom, checking out the fixtures and cabinets like the house renovator he is.

  We stumble into the bedroom again, which has grown marginally warmer from the fire. Maggie must have a lot of experience building them, because this one is burning nicely.

  Ryan pulls me into his arms and kisses me. It’s a long, warm kiss, one that holds promise behind his weariness.

  “What did she say about us keeping each other warm?” he murmurs.

  “Mmm.” I nuzzle his chest. “Let me see if I can remember.”

  I lean into Ryan, letting him hold me up. It’s been a strange, frustrating day, but at the end of it, I’m in Ryan’s embrace, and that’s all that counts.

  Ryan kisses the top of my head. “Should we check for webcams?”

  I jump, and then giggle. “This is Maggie’s private retreat, remember? She wouldn’t want cameras in here.”

  “You know that, even though you’ve just met her?”

  “Yes.” I snuggle into him again. I feel safe in this room, and warm. “Maggie seems real, you know what I mean? Sincere. I’d check for cameras in the main house, because some people like that. But this room is about her.”

  Ryan rumbles his skepticism. “Maybe she lures stranded strangers in here and then posts their antics all over the internet.”

  “The electricity’s out, and I didn’t notice any computers. Or wi-fi signals, or phone signals.”

  “You make a good point. In that case …”

  Ryan kisses me with another kiss of slow promise, while his hands cup my hips. Hot excitement flows down my spine, and I wind my arms around him. I haven’t been with Ryan—truly been with him—for too long.

  We’ve already shucked our coats, and now Ryan eases the sweatshirt I’d donned at the sporting goods store off over my head. I’m still wearing the shirt I’d left home in, a top with buttons holding it closed at my throat. Ryan’s strong fingers undo each button, loosening the fabric. As though he’s freeing me from restraints, I feel lighter, liberated.

  I start pushing off his sweatshirt, then unbutton the Henley beneath and edge that up too. Beneath this I find the bare, well-muscled chest I love to run my hands over, wiry curls of his hair catching on my fingers.

  Ryan kisses me as he skims off my shirt then he unfastens the hook of my bra. I land against him, skin-to-skin, rising into his kiss.

  I shiver, yearning for him, but Ryan takes this to mean I’m cold. He breaks the kiss, and I make a sound like a whimper.

  “We should get under the covers,” he says. “Be embarrassing if they find us frozen on the floor with our shirts off.”

  “We’re not going to freeze. The fire feels good.” I stretch, liking the way Ryan’s eyes flare as he looks me over. “But yes, bed is a good idea.”

  “Hold on—be right back.” Ryan races into the bathroom.

  He’s out before I can do more than pull back the covers, and drops a box of condoms on the nightstand. “If we go through all these, I bet Maggie has more.” He considers. “They probably glow in the dark.”

  “Don’t even think about asking her.” I yank down the sheets, which smell fresh. “Maggie’s nice.”

  “Yep. She’s getting my nomination for woman of the year.” Ryan takes a moment to unbuckle his belt and slide off his jeans and underwear. I sit cross-legged on the bed to watch the show.

  Ryan’s a beautiful man. Tall, solid, muscles hard from his outdoors lifestyle and the renovation work he does. He doesn’t simply sit in an office—he wades in and helps with the construction when he needs to.

  The Arizona sun has bronzed his chest, arms, face, and lower legs, but left his thighs and butt pale. His face is handsome, eyes a deep shade of blue, hair so dark it’s almost black. He’s always been good-looking. When we were nine, I had to fend off other girls from him.

  Ryan drinks me in while I ogle him. “You are so beautiful,” he says softly.

  I heat all the way through, doesn’t matter how much the cold is trying to come inside. I have a crackling fire and Ryan to keep it out.

  “So are you.” I look him up and down. “Especially in nothing but your socks.”

  Ryan glances in surprise at the pair of white crew socks stretched over his shins, as though he’d forgotten he was wearing them. “They keep my feet warm.”

  I reach for him. “I’ll keep you warm.”

  Ryan’s slow smile spreads across his face. “Hot damn. Here I come.”

  He launches himself at the bed and lands on his side next to me, one elbow bent to prop his head. Well, that’s what he attempts. He miscalculates and rolls directly off the side.

  I scramble to the edge and look over to find him on his back on the floor. “You all right?”

  Ryan growls. He heaves himself up and onto the bed—more carefully this time—then he rolls me down into the mattress, covering my body with his, and kisses me, stifling my laughter.

  Ryan

  Calandra Stevenson, the sexiest woman in the world, is beneath me, and I want nothing more. Her tongue is in my mouth, she suckling on mine. It makes me hard, and I want to devour her.

  I slide my hand between us and open the button of her jeans. She helps me wriggle her out of them, even while she kisses me. Underwear next, and at last, we’re bare to each other.

  I recall the first time we made love. We were in college, and Calandra had invited me to her room, where she’d be alone all night. We had made out before that, covering many of the bases, but we’d never completed the act, having promised our parents we’d wait until we were at least eighteen.

  That night, we’d looked into each other’s eyes and known it was a perfect moment—that we’d been born to fall in love.

  This is another of those moments. We’re far from home, stranded, relying on the hospitality of strangers, cold, uncertain about tomorrow.

  But we’re together, and right now, nothing can touch us.

  Calandra brushes my face with soft fingers. I kiss her lips, the taste of her familiar, but also fresh and exciting. It’s never the same with Calandra, each time we make love unique.


  Her breasts are cushioned against my chest, she and I fitting so well. She runs her hands down my back, tracing my buttocks. She grips me and smiles into her kiss.

  “Aren’t you sweet?” I say to her. “I’m thinking what a beautiful moment this is, and you’re grabbing my ass.”

  Her eyes dance with wickedness. “It can be a beautiful moment while I grab your ass.”

  “I love you, Calandra.”

  She squeezes again. “I love you too. I’m naked in bed with you, so I hope we’re in love.”

  I chuckle. “I don’t think the people next door agree the two always go together.”

  “Oh, I think they agree, deep down.”

  “Maybe.” I kiss her. “All I know is I’m incredibly lucky. All this shit happened today, and you’re still with me.”

  “And I always will be.”

  Calandra’s smiles are gone, her gaze serious, her touch seductive. She lifts herself to me for a long, sensuous kiss.

  Any other woman might have given me hell for the way this trip turned out. Thrown the ring at me and walked away, called a better man to take her home. Instead, Calandra held my hand and assured me that none of it was my fault.

  Even though it was. I’d planned this journey down to the last tiny detail, calling around to make sure everything was in place after Calandra asked me to take her away.

  However, I hadn’t made a backup plan. No contingencies for bear invasions, or weather, or getting lost. Even so, Calandra has stuck with me, laughing like it’s a good joke.

  I reach for a condom, and Calandra helps me put it on. Then I slide inside her, holding her gaze all the way. Love wraps around us and our wild ride begins.

  Chapter Eight

  Calandra

  Ryan’s making love to me, and he is all I need. I forget about everything but the sensation of him inside me and rise to him with a groan, seeking the joy of the moment.

  Kisses brush my face, then Ryan pulls back, his blue eyes intense. His face softens as he studies me, then he slides in once more.

  I arch to drive him even deeper, the slow glide of him back and forth reaching that itch that no one else can. My skin prickles with excitement, shivers building deep inside.

  I try to pull him closer, my desperation winding into a frenzy. We kiss, Ryan’s mouth hot, and I nip his chin, then his shoulder, suckling to leave a mark.

  Ryan laughs, his fist hitting the mattress beside me. “You little demon.”

  “That’s me,” I gasp. I hang on, wrapping my legs around him as he rides me hard, harder.

  Screams leave my mouth, which I try to muffle with a pillow. Ryan lifts the pillow away and kisses me, catching my cries. Waves of wild darkness roll over me, each one stronger than the last until I lose all sense of time and place.

  I’m with Ryan, and we’re one. All feeling begins and ends with him. My heart pumps madly, and my breath is ragged.

  Ryan groans, his hips moving, he pressing me into the bed. I hold on and enjoy every undulation.

  We merge, our peaks intertwining. I’m laughing as I hit my highest climax, no sense of anything but Ryan inside me, the two of us floating in the void of space.

  “I love you!” I shout. He whispers, “I love you, Calandra. Forever.”

  I shatter and begin the journey down, down, down, toward the bed and reality, the softness of pillows, and the warmth of Ryan on me.

  We land safely together, back on Earth, in the cozy little room in the middle of the mountains in the middle of nowhere. We don’t belong here and yet we do, cocooned with each other in this hideaway, where it’s the two of us and nothing more.

  It’s a good thing Ryan’s brought a whole box of condoms, because after sweet moments of catching our breaths, telling each other how much in love we are, and basking in afterglow, I push him onto his back and climb on top.

  Ryan grins up at me as I make love to him. He cups my breasts, tells me how beautiful I am, and lays back to enjoy it.

  I’m coming in no time, he holding my wrists and me holding his. Ryan rises on his elbows to drive up into me, and he’s coming too, very fast.

  We fall to the bed, panting, spent. We hold each other, warming in the radiance of the fire.

  Halfway through our third time of lovemaking, the lights pop on.

  “Thanks, Milo,” we say at the same time, and then we laugh as though it’s the most hilarious thing ever.

  Ryan reaches to the switch beside the bed and turns the lights off. The glow of candles and firelight fills the room with softness. “Better this way,” he says.

  Candlelight brushes Ryan’s golden brown skin and dances in his eyes. “Agreed,” I say with conviction.

  We drowse then, the long day and night catching up to us. Warmth permeates the room and the bed, and I sleep.

  It’s been weeks since I’ve fallen into such a profound and dark sleep. Our troubles are far away and insignificant. No texts to wake us, no frantic phone calls. No gown fittings or agonizing over shoes or the color of the tablecloths.

  None of it is important. I know this for truth when I wake in a nest with Ryan curved around me, his quiet breathing filling the space.

  I don’t rouse him, because I know he’s exhausted and feels terrible for dragging me out here. He’ll take the blame and mentally flog himself for not providing me the perfect getaway, but maybe one day he’ll understand that this trip is perfect the way it is.

  I sleep again, and wake when sunshine fills the room. Ryan blinks his eyes open at the same time I do. “Looks like the storm’s over.” He gestures to the window where a crack in the curtains lets in a flare of sunlight.

  “Looks like.”

  We make no move to roll out of bed and check. It’s so comfortable, so peaceful. I could stay here all day.

  Ryan begins to kiss my face, trailing the kisses to my neck and collarbone. Eventually, he slides the blankets down, moving the kisses to my breasts. He suckles one nipple, cascading heat through me.

  I run my hands over his hard body and kiss him in return. Our mouths meet, hands dance, another condom goes on, and we’re making sweet, deep love one more time.

  We doze again afterward then finally decide to get up. We slowly leave the bed and make our way to the bathroom. The clawfoot tub fits two if we stand under the shower, behind the curtain that runs all the way around it. We wash each other, making things interesting and fun, though we splash a lot of water to the floor.

  After this, we dry each other off, dry the floor, then pull on clothes from our bags. I choose a sweatshirt with “Ski Tahoe” on it, thankful I’d brought hiking boots for this outing.

  Before we leave the room, we straighten up and make the bed, wiping down the bathroom. This isn’t a hotel, and Maggie shouldn’t have to clean up after us.

  Once we’re bundled into our coats, Ryan opens the door, and we step out into a dazzling silver world. The tall pines around the guesthouse are covered in snow, and about two feet of white blankets the yard between our hideaway and the long ranch house. Frost coats the window panes, catching the light like diamonds.

  “How beautiful,” I murmur, then I shiver. “If cold.”

  “Makes a change,” Ryan says, gazing around in pleasure.

  He appreciates the beauty of the natural world, something I’ve always liked about him. He incorporates that appreciation into the houses he renovates, making them both functional and enjoyable. Ryan thinks of himself as an average guy, but he has the eye of an artist.

  The cold nips at us, and we cease admiring the outdoors and hurry across to the main house. Ryan knocks on the back door, and I hear Cherise sing out, “It’s open!”

  Ryan pushes through the door and we’re assailed with the scents of frying bacon, maple syrup, and coffee. Our stomachs rumble at the same time.

  “Morning, folks.” Milo is seated on the sofa, reading a different newspaper, a steaming cup in his hands. “If you want coffee, Cherise will fix you up.”

  Cherise emerges
in time to hear this and hands us the coffee she’s carrying. “Already done.”

  I take a cup, thanking Cherise profusely. I close my eyes and inhale the fragrance, then sip. It’s not the best coffee I’ve ever drunk, but it’s hot and served with hospitality.

  “Newspapers were delivered?” Ryan asks as Cherise disappears to the kitchen and Milo goes back to reading.

  “Drove into town and picked it up,” Milo says from behind the paper. “The main roads are starting to be cleared in the Tahoe direction. Not so much east or south. But they’ll probably start plowing in Carson City and head this way up the hill.”

  “In that case.” I plop down on a chair and stretch out my legs. “I’ll enjoy the coffee.”

  “You won’t be going anywhere in a hurry, that’s for sure,” Milo says. He doesn’t look up from the paper, seemingly happy conversing and reading at the same time. “At least not toward Phoenix.”

  “No rush.” I sip, and Ryan sends me a quizzical glance. I suppose he thought I’d be racing to the car the moment the snow ceased. “It’s comfortable in here, it’s cold out there, and it’s a long drive home,” I tell Ryan.

  “You could go to Reno and fly back,” Milo suggests.

  “We tried.” Ryan sinks down next to me. “We can’t get on a flight for a few days.”

  “Roads are tricky around here until they’re cleared,” Milo says, “if you don’t know them well. I’m a local trucker—I deliver goods all over the towns from Tahoe to Reno. More so during ski season, but that’s winding down.”

  “So you had time to come and see Cherise,” I say, pretending I’m not interested.

  Milo lowers the paper enough to peer at me. “She’s a special lady.”

  “Mmm.” I leave it at that. None of my business, right? I’m already planning their wedding in a little chapel in Tahoe, reception under the pines, but like I said, none of my business.

  I realize with a jolt that my thoughts are exactly the kind our friends have about us. They want us to be happy, to have a grand celebration to launch our life together.