Winter Kisses

by Addison Moore

  “Tell me what to do, Laney.” He lets out an exasperated breath. “Tell me who to cut out of my life, and I’ll do it.”

  I dart my gaze into him as his words settle in my stomach like battery acid.

  “I never asked you to cut anybody out of your life.” I hack the words through the air, jagged and careless. They slice right through any magic last night might have carried and expose this morning for what it is, the day after something that we’ll soon regret.

  Ryder spikes up on his elbows, his features soften.

  “That’s not what I meant.” His dimples dig in and out as he runs his tired gaze over me. “I’m serious, Laney. I’m in this for the long haul. There is nobody else that I care to keep in my life if it means I can’t have you. Don’t push me away.” He wraps his arm around me and lands a kiss over my shoulder. “Just let me love you.”

  It’s tempting. I’m caving I can feel it, but that residual anger surges like a tidal wave.

  “If you want this so bad, why make me choose who you’re going to spend your time with?” I shake my head while doing a quick scan of the floor for my dress. At this point I couldn’t care less about my underwear. Hell, I might even call the shoes a loss.

  He secures his arm around my waist before I can even think of rolling out of bed. I glance back at him. Ryder is so damn handsome in this early morning light with his rumpled hair, his laser blue eyes pressing into me with something just this side of an intrusion. His cheeks are peppered with stubble, and it gives him that undeniably gorgeous look. Ryder Capwell is sex on a stick. Any woman on the face of the earth would give her right boob to be in my position.

  “I’ve already chosen who I want to spend my life with.” A tiny dimple appears on his left cheek. “It’s you, Laney, it’s always been you. I’m sorry for every stupid thing I’ve said and done. From the bottom of my heart I beg your forgiveness.” His features harden as if he’s holding back tears.

  A moment of silence stops up the air. Here it is, the fork in the relationship road. Go with Ryder or go home and hope you have enough AA batteries to reenact those wild stunts his tongue pulled off last night. Our eyes latch, and he winces as if pleading. My heart melts at the sight of him, at the thought of him wanting me just as bad as I want him.

  “Okay,” I whisper, taking back my wrist.

  “Okay?”

  “I won’t cut you out of my life, Ryder.” I cup the side of his face, and he turns into me with a kiss. “I want this with you.”

  “Laney.” His brows pitch, giving him that demonically sexy look I’ve missed so much. “Thank you.” He touches his forehead to mine, exhaling his relief over my chest. His breathing picks up pace. His eyes glisten with tears. Ryder melts his mouth over mine and pulls me over his body. We fall into a world of deep, soulful kisses—long, primal, animalistic, I’m-so-hungry-for-you tongue lashings, and, best of all, kisses that brand the words I love you over one another’s hearts better than words could ever do.

  Sometimes you need to say things with actions, you need to show one another that the inherent promises a relationship entails are going to be kept. That when you give your heart away, the person you give it to will protect it at all costs. Every girl dreams of being loved with an unquenchable fire—and the only person who I’d want that combustible affection from is right here next me, lighting up the sheets.

  I want my forever with Ryder Capwell and hope this time we can find a way to make it happen.

  Something tells me it won’t be as easy as we would like it to be.

  The long drive back to Whitney Briggs isn’t nearly as awkward as I imagined. Before we left, I showered alone despite a rather lengthy plea on his part. But I figured with all that slipping and sliding going on, I might be tempted to impale myself on his eminence and what with no protection around, things were bound to get procreative on us. Not that I’d mind having Ryder’s dark-haired, drop dead gorgeous children with their dimpled smiles, their midnight eyes. He’s one stud I’d gladly sacrifice the size of my uterus for. But I think we should take it one life event at a time, starting with the renewal of our relationship.

  “So what’s the game plan for today?” I ask as the road stretches out in front of us like a long asphalt tongue. Everything in me cries out to have Ryder again. It’s all I can do to keep from taking the wheel and landing us in a ditch. I can’t help but notice that the world outside our windshield is giving off its own sexual projection. The evergreens spear the sky with their phallic protrusions. The rolling hills round out like a series of melon-like breasts that ache for a kiss from the horizon. The steel grey clouds look down over creation, heavy with anticipation, ready to release all of their frustration in one trembling thrust.

  “No game plan. I’m with you.” Ryder picks up my hand and lands a simple kiss over the back. “That’s all I need to know. You sure you need to get to rehearsal? I’ve got a pretty good idea of where I can pick up those raincoats.” He nods to a gas station on our right.

  I give a little laugh. Raincoat used to be our code word for condoms. Of course, I went on the pill to surprise him last Christmas, but we never got to the surprise. His mother and Meg made sure of that. But I’ve been on it ever since. I don’t know why I didn’t tell him last night. I guess, deep down, I wanted to make sure we were solid again, but, then, we were never solid to begin with. I suppose if I’m going to let a man rain down on my insides, I’d better be sure he’s the one. I glance over at Ryder in his dress shirt and jeans, his heavy wool coat on over that. He’s so gorgeous that a part of me demands we pull over so I can crawl onto his lap and let him take me right here in the field like a rabbit.

  I press out a dull smile. Maybe I will tell him. Maybe that will be my gift to him on Christmas Eve. God knows I don’t have the funds for something far more tangible like a sweater or a tie. But I’m guessing he’d surrender ever wearing a sweater or tie again for the intimacy I’m about to gift him with.

  We pull into the student parking lot, and he finds a spot closest to the entry near Prescott.

  “I’ll take that as a no as far as the raincoats go.” He reaches over and tweaks my knee.

  “More like a rain check.”

  “Come home with me tonight.” His eyes hold mine with the slight patina of desperation. Ryder is still afraid I might scatter like a timid bird, and a part of me wonders the same thing.

  “I have a show tomorrow night.” I interlace our fingers and rub my thumb over his palm. I’m ready to cave—so close.

  “I promise I’ll get you back on time.”

  “I have no doubt.” I reach up and touch my hand to his stubble. “What I’m afraid of is the fact I won’t get any sleep.”

  “You got me there.” He plants a kiss over the back of my hand. “Sleep is nowhere on the agenda, but if you insist, I swear I’ll be content just holding you.” His dark brows swoop in as if to confirm his quasi-vow of celibacy. The truth is, I miss sleeping in Ryder’s arms. I haven’t had a decent night’s sleep in a year, and that’s because he wasn’t there to hold me.

  “You may be content with simply catching some shut eye, but I won’t.” I bite down over a naughty smile. We get out, and he comes around to my side. His arms find themselves a home around my waist as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “I want all of you, Ryder.” The crisp air cuts through my dress like knives as I shiver into him. “I want you in every possible way, all night long. I want to feel you deep inside me. I never want to be apart from you again.”

  His stomach flinches beneath me. Ryder cradles my face in his hands and presses out a sad smile.

  “Laney. We’re back.” He sweeps his gaze over each of my features as if memorizing the moment. “And I promise you, we’re never going to be apart again.”

  He brings his lips to mine, and we share a kiss right here at Whitney Briggs in front of the roaming eyes of the student population. It’s freeing, blissfully familiar— desperately hungry—it’s as if Ryder had been off at war
, and now I have him back again. But the war was of our own making. The battle lines were drawn by his mother, and I wonder how long we can stand again before she topples us over for good. I know for a fact I’m the last person she wants to see her son with, and that alone makes me wonder if this is all a big mistake. Can our love really survive anything?

  Good God, I hope so.

  Ryder takes off to look for Bryson. He asked if he could share our big news, so, of course, I said yes. I spin in a quiet circle as I head over to Prescott in my oversized, ratty Madame Thenardier ball gown. I still have an hour before I need to be at dress rehearsal. I’d like to hit my dorm room and process everything that’s happened. A part of me still can’t believe I spent the night with Ryder just like that, out of the blue.

  “Laney!” A girl’s voice shrills from my right, and I spot Baya and Roxy huddled under a space heater outside the café.

  I give a little squeal and head on over.

  “Look who decided to roll out of bed?” Baya pulls up a seat for me as I join them. It’s freezing out, after all it is December and the threat of a serious storm is hovering above us.

  Baya slides over my bag. I pluck my phone out and clutch it like a missing child. There’s a text from Mom.

  Christmas Eve, my house. Don’t bring the twerp.

  I slip the phone back into my purse, lest Roxy see that my mother has resumed the name-calling.

  My mother never was one to mince words. I have a feeling even if Ryder and I never split, she still wouldn’t approve of him. She’s made a hobby of nitpicking at my life decisions ever since I quit working for her dance studio years ago. Izzy is still there. But, then, if she praised me like she does Izzy, I’d probably still be there too.

  “So?” Roxy stirs her coffee before plucking out the svelte red straw. “Did you roll out of bed alone?”

  “Of course, she didn’t.” Baya plucks at my pillowy sleeve. “It’s obvious we’re witness to the walk of shame.”

  “Is this true?” Roxy wants to hear it straight from my lips.

  Of course, Baya is much quicker to believe me. She doesn’t know all the gory details of what happened last year, and Roxy, unfortunately, does.

  “It’s true. But we didn’t quite go all the way.” I throw in that last part in a weak attempt to save face. After all, I did threaten to slit my own throat should I ever find myself horizontal with Roxy’s brother again.

  I shoot a quick glance out at campus as a heat wave from last night’s lovemaking rolls through me. I can still feel his tongue lashing me in places I’ve only dreamed of for the entire solid year.

  “Told you.” Roxy jabs her straw at Baya. “They’re not like the rest of us. They’ve got some serious underlying issues they can’t get past.” She shakes her head as if she’s glad she’s not me, and she should be.

  “We tried to go all the way, but we were lacking in the protection arena. You know what they say, especially in December, wrap your member. We’d like to hold off on the breeding until sometime after graduation.”

  “You’re back together?” Roxy’s mouth falls open, and she’s quick to slap her hand over it.

  “No.” I squeeze my eyes shut. “I mean, yes. We still have some kinks to work out, but I think maybe this time we can get there.”

  “That’s great!” Baya pulls me into a spontaneous hug. “I’m so happy for you. I can’t wait to meet him. He seems like a really nice guy from what I can tell.”

  “Ryder is the best.” Roxy presses her lips together like she might cry. “So, these kinks…do they involve my mother?” Roxy knows full well they do.

  “I’m sorry.” I glide my hand over her arm. “But things have to change, or I just can’t be a part of Ryder’s life.”

  She glances down at the table, mournful as to what it might mean.

  “Look”—my heart starts racing, and it feels like I’m right back at that party last Christmas Eve—“she doesn’t have to like me. She doesn’t even have to acknowledge my presence when we’re in the same room. But if I’m going to be with your brother, I need her to respect that and not throw other girls at him. And, if I had my way, she wouldn’t badmouth me either.”

  “I guess that won’t be a problem now.” Roxy pulls her sweater over her fingers and shudders at the idea.

  Roxy and I let the silence bleed in and as we gaze morbidly at one another. We both know Ryder made some veiled threats about cutting his family out of his life if we ever got back together. He made them last year and hinted at it again this morning.

  “What’s going on?” Baya waves her hand over our faces like she’s trying to pull us out of a trance.

  “Nothing’s going on.” I let out a sigh, and a plume of fog expires from me. “I’m not trying to destroy your family, Roxy. I promise you. That’s exactly why I stepped out of the picture last year. Anyway”—I shrug into Baya—“it’s really complicated.”

  “I don’t get it.” Baya darts her lime green eyes from me to Roxy. “How’s it going to destroy your family if your mother is the one who keeps saying negative things? I mean, throwing girls at your brother while he’s with Laney? That’s pretty low.”

  Roxy sucks in a slow breath while blinking back tears. “Ryder swore to me that if Laney ever took him back, he’d step away from the family. He meant my mother. He gets along fine with my dad and me. He said he’d cut out all family functions, anything that involved my mom.” She runs her fingers through her magenta highlights before settling her eyes over mine. “I just want you and Ryder to be happy. You both deserve that. And nobody on this planet deserves to be treated the way my mother treated you. To say she can be judgmental is an understatement. In her own twisted way, she’s just trying to protect my brother.”

  Baya reaches over and picks up my hand. “Laney, I’m so sorry. I can’t imagine what it would be like if Bryson’s mom said those things about me. But maybe you can sit down and talk to her? Maybe there’s a way to work all this out. I’d hate to see you restart your relationship with him feeling like he needs to step out of his family.”

  “Have a civilized conversation with Rue Capwell?” I look to Roxy. “Is that even possible?”

  “Anything’s possible.” Her eyes widen, and she looks decidedly like her brother. “I’ll be there to mediate if you like.”

  “I’ll gladly come and hold your hand,” Baya offers.

  I take a breath and mull it over. “Okay, but we should do it soon. I’d hate for Ryder to blow a hole in their relationship if it’s not necessary.”

  “I’m sure it’ll go well.” Baya ventures on with her disillusioned innocence. “It’s a necessary evil. Like pulling off a band aid.”

  Something tells me it will very much be necessary, but deep down I’m hoping it’s not. I’d like nothing more than to start off on the right foot with Ryder, and cutting his mother out of his life doesn’t exactly reek Norman Rockwell—more like Norman Bates and we all know how that turned out.

  Talking to Ryder’s mother is going to be awkward. This won’t be anything like ripping off a band aid—quite the opposite. This will be like taking a scalpel and reopening the wound.

  It’s going to hurt like hell.

  I hope Ryder and I don’t bleed out this time.

  Ryder

  Capwell Industries runs like a well-oiled machine, partly due to the fact my father is down on every dirty detail. He’s completely hands-on when it comes to running his company and its many divisions, so much so that there’s a high staff turnover from all the micromanagement taking place. And, in the same vein, my mother runs her life in a similar manner. She spends her days organizing charity functions for the local hospitals and universities, thus her appearance at the auction the other night. It’s strange because she insisted I go. I had no idea Laney would be performing—that she would be auctioned off for the night no less. And I’m sure my mother was equally as surprised. I doubt she’d be so eager to get me “out of the house” if she knew it might land Laney in my bed f
or the night.

  Hot damn that girl can light the sheets on fire. Still wish to God I had a “raincoat” lying around. Can’t believe I let some sophomoric blunder take down the evening a notch. Not that it was ruined because every moment I spend with Laney is perfect, but it could have been elevated to a whole new level if I had the proper equipment to carry out the task at hand. I almost went for it. I came this close to playing God with both our futures and plunged into her, thrust after thrust, unstoppable. I’m glad I didn’t though. Not that I don’t want kids with Laney someday because I do. I want the whole happily ever after package, and if that means investing in a minivan and a never-ending supply of diapers so be it. With Laney by my side life is going to fade from a black and white world to a brilliant Technicolor surprise.

  “What’s up?” A hard slap lands over my shoulder, and I turn to find Bryson with a goofy grin on his face. “Heard you swept Sawyer off her feet last night.”

  “Good news travels fast.” I nod him into my office, and he follows.

  “Laney sort of left Baya holding the bag—her bag to be exact. So”—he connects his fingers at the tips as we take a seat—“speaking of bags, you bag anything last night? Anyone?”

  “You’re subtle.” I open my laptop before relaxing into my chair. “Does ‘sort of’ count?”

  “Sort of?” He looks amused then it quickly morphs into something shy of pity. “Bummer.”

  “No, definitely not a bummer. We held strong and put our bodies to good use. It’s not that I couldn’t, it’s that I didn’t have the proper equipment to wage war.” I nod into him. “No battle helmet.”

  “Dude.” Bryson pulls his wallet from the back of his jeans, and it looks as if he’s literally pulling it out of his ass. “Make love not war and all that good shit.” He flings a couple of foil packets my way.