by Quinn, Taryn
Her voice had dropped to a near whisper and it wasn’t because she was concerned about her brother.
I set the carton aside and moved to her, framing her face with my cold hands. She didn’t react, just watched me with her all too knowing eyes.
“Far too many,” I said roughly. “I came back here because of you.”
Her lower lip trembled. “You said you had work.”
“Work has never consumed me as you did. As you are.”
She sucked in a deep breath. “Don’t think I don’t know you still want to get into my panties—well, pants, since I’ve had the shredded pieces of my underwear stuck up my butt for the last hour.”
I laughed. I didn’t mean to. But once started, there was no stopping it.
Having her join me was the sweetest relief I’d ever known.
I tipped my forehead to hers. “Please come with me to Happy Acres. I want you to meet my mates. I want to spend a day with you.”
She swallowed hard and swiped her thumb over the corner of my mouth before she licked it. “Sure.” I could see the effort it costed her to shrug casually. “Why not? You’re already here.”
I gripped her hand and brought it to my lips to kiss her knuckles. “I’ll take you to get your car at the diner before I spend the night at the bed and breakfast. But I’ll be back tomorrow.”
I’ll always come back for you, Ivy.
But I didn’t know if I was man enough to make it true, so I didn’t say it.
Her gaze clouded before she nodded and picked up the carton of ice cream. She scooped up some and pushed the spoon between my lips. This time, I couldn’t hold back my groan.
Slowly, smugly, she smiled. “I’ll be waiting.”
Twelve
“Hey Siri, what’s the weather in Turnbull?” I called from my closet.
The British voice of my Siri chirped out that it would be unseasonably warm. Never knew what you’d get in April. Layers were safest.
Should I wear something that included easy access? I snapped hangers from one end of my closet to the other. Skirt? Cute jeans and a top?
Ugh.
Why was I overthinking this whole thing?
Because it was Rory and everything seemed precariously pinned on don’t have too much fun, don’t think too much, and are we dating? Is this just another extension of our fling?
Should I pack condoms? Be very millennial and have one in my back pocket just in case?
Ugh.
Ugh.
Ugh.
I flicked a denim skirt off a hanger. It had a patch of cherries on the back pocket with a bit of rockabilly flavor. I added a sparkly pink top with a small skulls print. I didn’t get to wear my own style too often because I was almost always working.
Since we were going to an orchard, I went with matching cherry socks that peeked out of my battered Doc Martens. I wasn’t sure if we were going to be coming back late.
Instead of overthinking everything, I rolled up a pair of stretchy jeans and stuffed them into the bottom of my purse. There, all bases covered.
My phone chirped with a reminder alarm. It was almost time for him to get here for our not-a-date-date.
Picking me up like a boyfriend would.
Stop.
It was stupid to think about him like that at all. It was just a fun day.
What? Like the bed-banging fun we’d had on his last visit?
Okay, I really sucked at this easy breezy hookup stuff. It seemed so different than when I did it in college. This felt like a date.
I put on makeup and did my damn hair, for fuck’s sake. It was a damn date, no matter what Rory wanted to label it.
And he was going to show me off to his friends.
I stared at myself in the mirror behind my door. “Calm the fuck down, Beck.” I pulled a hairtie off my doorknob and snapped it on my wrist, spritzed on my perfume, and grabbed my purse and phone.
“Aug!”
My brother peeked his head around the corner at the end of the hall. “Yo.”
“I’m not sure when I’ll be home. I’m going out to the orchard with a friend.”
“A friend?” He crossed his arms as he leaned on the kitchen island. “The same friend we talked about earlier?”
I rolled my eyes. “Dad, my how you’ve grown younger.”
“Shut up.”
I went onto my toes and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. “Don’t wait up.”
“You have your backup charger?”
“Yes,” I called as I opened the closet.
He followed me down the hall. “Emergency fifty?”
“Yes.” I pulled out my denim jacket just in case it got cooler later.
He stuffed his hands into his pockets. “Protection.”
“Aug.”
“What?”
“Do you really want to know how many condoms I have in my purse? I mean, I can show you.”
His eyebrows snapped down. “No. You didn’t steal my fucking stash, did you?”
I laughed. “I bought my own, thank you very much. It is 2019.”
His cheeks flushed. “I don’t want to think about it, but at least you’re being safe.”
My phone buzzed in my hand. “He’s here.”
“And he isn’t coming to the door? Rude.”
“It’s not a date. We’re just going to hang out with some of his friends. If you stop being an overbearing older brother, I’ll even bring you back something from the shop at Happy Acres.”
“Oh. Can you bring me turnovers?”
I laughed. “Maybe. If you go away.”
“Going.” He headed back to the kitchen. “Be careful,” he shouted at me as I slipped out the door.
“I will.” I shook my head as I rushed down the stairs.
Rory’s car was waiting at the end of the drive. His head was bowed, probably looking at his phone.
I slapped the hood of his car and his head jerked up. I smiled at him and for once, waited for him to open the door for me. His eyes went wide as he quickly climbed out out of the car and came around to meet me. His arms went around my waist and I went on my toes to meet him in a feverish kiss.
So much for keeping things friendly.
He gripped my ass, tucking one of his hands into my back pocket. The hard line of his cock bumped against me. He was just as ready for me now as he was last night.
Of course we’d both been denied. And then the moment had been gone.
Evidently, it had come back.
Our kiss spun hotter than the spring sun overhead. His other hand lightly threaded through the waves I’d spent an unhealthy amount of time creating in my hair. Each little pull spurred me on to deepen the kiss until we were both panting.
“You’re gorgeous.” He lifted his thumb to my lower lip I’d stained a deep cherry red. “That mouth is going to get me into so much trouble today.”
I probably should’ve reminded him—and myself—that we had so much more to learn about each other than which sexual position we liked best. Especially after the little famous bomb he’d dropped in the back of the police car. But being with him was too precious.
And fleeting.
I slicked my tongue over my abused lips. “I don’t see a problem with that.”
“You wouldn’t. How the hell am I going to manage to keep all the freaking Manning brothers away from you?”
My smile widened. “Who are the Mannings?”
“They run the orchard side of Happy Acres. Their sister, Zoe, is my mate’s…well, mate. They haven’t managed to get a ring on each other.” His eyebrows furrowed and I resisted the urge to smooth the wrinkle away. “They don’t work well in the confines of any boxes.”
“Nothing wrong with that.”
“Except the baby part. They’re having one.”
“Oh.” I tapped his decidedly scruffy chin. He still hadn’t shaved, and I still hadn’t had his face between my thighs on this trip.
Naughty Ivy.
There was also mo
re than a bit of fatigue around his eyes. Perhaps he’d been up as late as I was, tossing and turning. “Are you a traditionalist?”
“No. Definitely not. Just the Irish in me comes out sometimes, I guess. My mum would cuff me behind the ears if I didn’t put a ring on a girl before a baby came.”
“Wow. So baby means marriage?”
“Why there aren’t any babies in my future.”
My smile faltered. How could I be so into a man who was the opposite of me in every way?
And that forced me to put this day into a special little box. It couldn’t be more than just this. A spring day with a man who made my heart race and my body sing. It would be enough. It had to be.
I patted his chest. “Let’s go before my brother comes out and embarrasses me.”
“Right.” He slid his hand down my back to urge me forward.
After I settled into the car, I took a few seconds to calm the hell down. Rory’s phone was linked to the radio and a song I didn’t know was playing.
The voice was oddly familiar.
He got in on his side and flicked to the next song via his steering wheel. “Seatbelt.”
“Right.” I gave him a bright smile.
“I got you a tea on my way over.” He nodded to the large green tea in the cup holder.
“How did you know?”
He shrugged. “I notice things.”
“You certainly do.” I lifted the cup and took a quick sip to swallow down the suspicious lump that kept forming.
Do not get attached to this man.
It wasn’t a long drive and we spent most of it laughing over the control of his radio. I forced Ariana Grande on him and he brutalized my ears with a particularly obnoxious Eminem song.
It was nice enough that we rolled down the windows when we hit the backroads that led to the orchard. Rory’s hand strayed to my lap and he drew circles along my inner thigh to the slower 90s jams we’d compromised on.
“Waterfalls” indeed.
I tried to ignore the urge to widen my legs to see what he’d do, but our recent brush with the law wouldn’t quite let me pull the trigger on another car makeout sesh.
I was so wound up by the time the large Happy Acres sign came into view that I was ready to drag his hand under my skirt damn the consequences. I opened my mouth to ask him to find a space behind a tree when two men came into the clearing.
One was rippling with muscle. His hair was in a blue faux hawk and he wore aviators against the noontime sun. The other was lean and startlingly familiar with a baby on his hip.
Rory parked and I threw open my door before he could come around. He got out too, then rubbed the back of his neck as I glanced from him to the other two men.
Very fucking famous men.
The leaner man—Ian fucking Kagan—held out his hand with a wide, affable smile. “You must be Rory’s Ivy. Now I see why he was so anxious to bring you along. Way to go, mate.”
I shook his hand mutely.
The little boy attached to him like a monkey rubbed his nose against his shirt. Ian didn’t seem fazed at all.
“Right. Um, yes. Kellan McGuire, Ian Kagan, meet Ivy Beck. The little one is Wolf.” Rory cleared his throat. “Guess you two met easily enough.”
Kellan shrugged. “Maggie is forever worried she’ll turn into one of those mothers who is late for everything so I’m perpetually early for every-damn-thing. Ian’s been super welcoming.”
“Talking shop is easy, especially when there’s a cute little rocker to break the ice.” Ian bounced a toddler on his hip. “Isn’t it, little mate?”
Surreal didn’t cover it.
A prickle of sweat teased between my shoulder blades. “Nice to meet you,” I said through gritted teeth.
Ian laughed. “Oh, man. This is priceless. I’m usually the one in hot water.” He caught the child’s flailing hand and lightly swayed back and forth like he’d been doing it forever. He was wearing paint splattered jeans and half laced boots caked in mud. A white thermal shirt was pushed up to show off well-toned forearms.
Ian Kagan.
Singer.
Famous brother of yet another huge rockstar, Simon Kagan.
“I’ll just…” Rory nodded to the car. “I need my guitar out of the boot.”
Kellan grinned. “My wife will be stoked that there’s another girl here—woman, sorry. Then again, she and Zoe have been bonding over babies and the like.”
Ian brushed a kiss over Wolf’s hair. “I can’t wait to have one just like it. Soon.” He danced lightly with the baby and started singing “Baby Shark.”
“Not that song.” Kellan groaned.
“I can’t help it, man. It’s infectious.” Ian’s eyes crinkled with joy as the kid babbled back at him, singing along.
“Oh, you’ll learn when you have to hear it thirty-seven times a day.”
I swallowed hard. Things were becoming all too clear regarding Rory. That flash of entitlement with the sheriff, the money, the strangely detached way he was with people—all of it made more sense now.
“Jam sessions are my favorite.”
“We are not doing ‘Baby Shark’.” Kellan’s voice was firm.
“We’ll see.”
I smiled at the two international rockstars and took my leave to rush around the car to where Rory had the trunk open. “Are you kidding me?”
He lifted out a guitar case and portfolio and set them on the grass. “I told you we were meeting my friends.”
“Friends? Friends are the guys you went to college with. Ian Kagan and Kellan McGuire aren’t just friends.”
“They are actually.”
I punched him in the shoulder. “Don’t be obtuse. You could have warned me. Given me some sort of information about this before you just sprung this all on me.”
He stepped into my space, drawing me closer to him. “They’re just my mates. Nothing special about them except for the famous part. Ian’s usually got more paint on him than Zoe because he’s forever getting into her stuff. He’s annoying and overwhelming.”
“Famous.”
“Just a guy.”
“You’re famous too.”
He set his guitar next to him on the gravel. “In certain circles, yes.”
“In certain…” I spun away from him and headed for the grove.
“Everything okay?” Ian called after me.
I couldn’t even pretend to know how to answer. No, everything was not okay.
Not knowing anything about Rory had been a thrill—at first anyway. Now I couldn’t help wondering if he’d been laughing at me the entire time.
“Ivy.” Surprise laced his voice.
I kept on walking. Better that than to kick him in the shin or somewhere slightly more soft.
He caught my hand and tried to turn me around, but I wrenched it away. “I need a minute.”
“You’re not going to stomp off like a two-year-old.”
I whirled around. “What you think this is, some sort of tantrum? You lied to me.”
“I did not.”
“You were not forthcoming with details. Was it fun to kick it with a small-town girl who didn’t know any better? Did you get off on that?”
“What? No.”
The quick flash of horror on his face mollified me slightly. The hurt couldn’t quite be fixed. And it shouldn’t hurt. He shouldn’t matter that much. Which meant I was in so much more trouble than I’d thought.
Being attracted to him was one thing, but this?
The rush of emotion choked me and tears burned. Nope, I would not let him see me cry. I ran deeper into the grove of trees full of their pink and white spring blooms.
Rory’s longer stride passed me and he came around in front of me. He grasped my upper arms. “Christ, don’t cry.”
I shook my hair forward, so very glad I didn’t have my braids in today. “I’m not crying about you.”
“Then why?”
I tried to shake him off again. Mostly because I wanted t
o bury my face in his chest so much. His leather and just pure male scent was addictive. I couldn’t tell you what the scent was exactly, but it made me want to crawl into him and stay. “Because I’m mad. I cry when I’m angry and it’s very inconvenient.”
When he laughed, I punched him in the gut and walked around him.
“No, I’m not laughing at you.”
“Could have fooled me.”
He raised his voice. “I don’t want you to be pissed off. I just want you with me. I wanted you to meet my people. I have very few of them.”
I dashed away my tears. “What do you mean very few of them? You have tons of people you work with.”
He invaded my space to cup my face. “Emphasis on work, Ivy.” He brushed the last of my tears away. His intense blue gaze bore into mine. “I have plenty of people I work with, but getting close to people isn’t my thing. Not until...”
“Until what?”
He covered my mouth. The kiss was hard and fast. Intense on a level that usually left me missing clothing. Just as suddenly, he tore his mouth from mine and pressed his forehead to mine. “You’re not supposed to be more than fun.”
“Gee, thanks.”
He hung his head. “Bollocks, I can’t do any of this right.”
This time, it was me who laughed. “I get it.” I curled my arms around his waist and stepped into him.
He wrapped his arms around my shoulders until there was no space between us. “I never expected you.”
I flattened my cheek to his chest and listened to his heartbeat. “Ditto.”
He took a step back. “But I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just wasn’t ready to let you go.”
I swallowed down the hope flaring to life inside me. He didn’t mean it that way. And even if he did, Rory’s basic makeup was completely opposite from my own. He was a musician, or a producer—heck, I wasn’t even completely sure what he did. But none of it included a small town. Or a family.
For pity’s sake, I’d been saving up to open an ice cream truck in the summer. I was small town. I wanted a baby so bad I’d actually gone to a meeting of like-minded women who were willing to do the baby thing alone. I wasn’t exactly ready for the baby part yet, but it had always been in my plans.