Bring the Heat

by Margot Radcliffe

But now he was being kind of a dick. He hadn’t even formally asked her to be exclusive, was simply demanding it and also demanding that she announce it to the man she’d been ready to marry.

  “Yeah, and then you ended up engaged to some cheating loser. So I’m gonna let it all hang out now, Molly. We’re not kids anymore.”

  She didn’t know what “let it all hang out” meant, but if it meant more of him telling her what to do, she was literally not on board for it.

  “Being open and honest with each other doesn’t mean we can tell the other person what to do,” she said, setting her empty margarita glass on the table beside her and pulling her chin from the heated grasp of his hand. “Just because we’re sleeping together doesn’t give you ownership of any part of me.”

  His eyes deepened to a dark forest as he watched her. She wanted to squirm so badly under that direct, piercing glare but she remained still.

  “What does us sleeping together entitle me to, then?” he asked carefully. “Can I ask, please, Molly, that since you want to keep sleeping with me that you also not carry on a relationship with your fiancé?”

  Her temper flared. “I told you that I’m not carrying on a relationship with him. You’re the one encouraging the phone call. I’m just seeking closure on what was a very large and important chapter in my life before moving on.”

  “If you aren’t still hung up on him, why do you have such a problem telling him that we’re together?” he bit off. And while she wasn’t afraid of him, she felt his irritation. “It sounds like maybe you’re trying to have your cake and eat it, too.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest. “You think I want to be sleeping with both of you? Is that having my cake and eating it, too? Because that’s ridiculous and something I’d never do, but I’d be willing to bet that you’ve eaten plenty of cakes over the years!”

  “Am I the cake or the one eating it in this scenario?”

  “How should I know?” she complained, throwing up her hands. “You’re the one who started this!”

  Her chest rising, she tried to get a handle on things. It wasn’t like her to raise her voice or lose her temper, and yet with Oliver she found that it was okay to express herself. Maybe that wasn’t a bad thing.

  Oliver blew out a breath, the angry expression falling from his face.

  “Listen,” he said, bringing her hand back into his, his eyes warm with apology. “I didn’t mean to push you. I’m not saying we need to go headfirst into a relationship after sleeping together for a night, but I also don’t want to be just some guy you sleep with, Molly, to get over your ex. That fucking sucks. I’m not some jerk you can scratch an itch with and then head out to your real life. At the very least you don’t do that to a friend.”

  Her gaze skittered away because, of course on some level, that was exactly what she’d thought. “I guess I didn’t know that it was so serious for you,” Molly said, considering how to say what she needed to say without screwing up the rest of their vacation. “But this trip was meant to give me time away to clear my head. You’re right that I need to talk to him because I still don’t forgive him for cheating, but I need to hear him say I’m sorry and know that he at least valued what we had together, so I don’t continue to believe that I’m just an insane person who thought she was in a relationship with a good person and misjudged him completely. So I do owe him a conversation, but you have to know that it has nothing to do with what’s going on between us.”

  Oliver nodded slowly, eyes still pinning her to the chaise, his expression hurt and irritated. “I know,” he finally said. “We jumped into bed too quickly and I knew I’d get fucked up about it if you hadn’t worked all the shit out with this guy yet, but I couldn’t help it. I just like you a lot, Molly.”

  “Hey,” she said, leaning toward him, “I sped last night along, too, and I’m not sorry for it.”

  Their eyes locked and all Molly wanted to do was take that look off his face, the one that was regretting what they’d done, because it’d been amazing, the memory etched in her brain and body forever, which meant it could never be a mistake.

  “Good,” he said, taking a long breath. “I’m sorry I got all caveman on you.”

  Molly leaned back, a smile curving her lips as the tension in her shoulders from their disagreement finally eased. “Yeah, not your usual modus operandi.”

  He snorted. “No, it is,” he disagreed. “Trust me, I’ve just been on my best behavior with you.”

  Trailing a single finger down his chest, she teased, “I’d have to agree with that.”

  Oliver grasped her finger in his fist, stilling her journey down his taut stomach. “I don’t want to argue again, but I was also trying to point out that you haven’t talked about your breakup much at all and how it made you feel. I’m your friend—unload on me. That’s what I’m here for.”

  Molly’s first inclination was to clam up. Even that first night on the boat when he’d made her tell him what happened had been difficult. She’d grown up with just a father and worked in a male-dominated profession where smiling too much made her seem unprofessional. It wasn’t easy for her to admit she had emotions, let alone talk about them. More difficult still to try to sort them out in any kind of logical and useful manner. Give her an engine and she could take it apart and put it back together in no time, but asking her how she felt about her relationship, she needed a lifeline.

  “I was angry at first, of course, but we were together for a long time and I loved him. Now that I’m over the anger, part of me wants to understand what went wrong from his perspective, but I’m not great at communicating how I feel back. I just clam up and agree with whatever he says.”

  “You did nothing wrong,” Oliver assured her. “Whatever lame excuses he gives, relationships are work and he didn’t want to do the work. End of story.”

  “Yeah, you’re right,” Molly agreed. “And I also want an apology. I know I deserve that.”

  “Damn right you do,” he encouraged with one of those charming Oliver smiles. “And by the way, you’re doing a great job of communicating right now.”

  “I can do an okay job with you,” she told him, “because we’re friends. And not to put a fine point on it, but you’re making me do it.”

  Oliver’s soft chuckle felt like medicine on her jumpy nerves. God, she hated this kind of stuff. Had no idea what good talking her feelings out was supposed to be doing other than making Oliver happy. Which she guessed was as good a reason as any.

  Oliver let go of her hand to thread his fingers through hers, their palms resting against each other. A flutter of pleasure rose in her.

  “Can I put forth another possible reason for your reluctance to tell him that you’ve moved on?” he asked, his voice gentling as he squeezed her hand in his. She was already addicted to the connection, the feel of his skin against hers. “Maybe last night we discovered something really special together again and you’re already looking for an escape route?”

  Her heart thumped in her chest. Hell, that certainly felt like a truth bomb.

  “Maybe,” she admitted. “But it’s not as if there’s a future for us together, Oliver.”

  His gold brows lowered. “No?”

  She shook her head, uncertain now. “You still live in New York or on this yacht and my life is in Colorado. I don’t see that changing.” She didn’t add that essentially nothing had changed from when they’d broken up the first time. They lived in different parts of the country, but also on entirely separate planets.

  Oliver searched her eyes. “You don’t think I’d make changes for you? That I’d do what I’d need to do to have you in my life?”

  She shrugged. He hadn’t before and other than him purchasing this yacht she wasn’t exactly sure what had changed between then and now. They were older, of course, but the facts of their lives were the same.

  “By saying that, you’r
e suggesting that I should make changes, too, but I love my job, Oliver, and I don’t want to quit. And you can’t just be an aerospace engineer anywhere. It’s not exactly a robust field. So if you’re saying you’d change your life around for me, it would mean moving to Colorado. Are you prepared to do that?”

  He hit her gaze head-on. “Yes.”

  And that was all. No discussion, no request for compromise, no wish to talk about it later after they’d “see how things went,” just an unequivocal agreement.

  Her breath froze in her throat and she could feel her mouth suspended open in shock.

  “Excuse me?” she asked, just to be sure.

  “Yes, I’d move to Colorado for you.”

  “But you’re building a yacht company and Colorado is, like, the definition of landlocked.”

  “So what?” he said. “Do you think I’m going run it like a floor manager or something? I hire people to do those things, Molly.”

  A ripple of unease stiffened her spine at the reminder of his power and of just how different they were.

  “I see,” she finally said, although she didn’t really. Starting a company to her meant being there overseeing what was happening, feeling the boats being built, the engine humming, the line of the vessel itself. But she supposed that’s why she was on this trip to explore yachts with him because she was more of a hands-on type of person.

  “I don’t think you do, but we’ll put a pin in it for now,” he said, finally and blessedly, letting his gaze fall from hers as he leaned back in the chaise.

  “I do a lot of hiking in my free time, Oliver,” she added. “You’re telling me you’d like that? Prada doesn’t make hiking boots.”

  “Actually, they do, sweetheart, but I hear what you’re saying and I like being anywhere you are, so if you want to take a hike with me, we’re good. If you want to take a hike without me, we’d be good. But this does feel like you’re only proving my point that you’re already putting up roadblocks between us before we begin because you know once we do begin it’ll be amazing.”

  He took a drink of his margarita, giving her a sideways glance.

  “I’m a logistics person,” she pointed out. “And you and I don’t make logical sense.”

  “Keep on going, Molly,” he laughed, truly amused by her. “You can trot out a million reasons a relationship between us wouldn’t work. Hell, maybe you’d be right about a lot of them.” He speared her with his bright green gaze again, gilded with gold from the sunset. “But I’ll be damned if I’d let a bunch of lame hypotheticals get in the way of something I want.”

  The intensity of his tone and the magnitude of his words did damage to her equilibrium. And they’d only had one night together.

  “They’re not hypotheticals if they’re real,” she informed. “I do like hiking.”

  His margarita drained, he placed the glass on the table with a decisive click before turning to her, picking her straight up into his arms and depositing her on his lap.

  “I like that you like hiking,” he told her, his hand going back to thread through her hair again, holding her neck steady as he held her eyes. “I like damn near everything I know about you, Molly. That’s why you’re the only person on this fucking boat with me. Regardless of how we move forward or don’t, I’d never try to pick you apart. I like you and if I’m in something I’m in it all the way, not just if it’s convenient to me. Being here is a risk for me and I’ve got my whole future riding on the next couple of months, but one thing I’ll always be sure about is that if you want me, you’ve got me.”

  Whoa. Molly could barely breathe, definitely couldn’t think, and when she opened her mouth to reply with something essential and equally important, she didn’t get the chance because his lips closed over hers, demanding, and insistent, and oh, just lovely and sweet. Like he was a man trying to give her what she wanted but kept encountering resistance and was treading carefully.

  Molly only knew that on day two of this trip she was already suspiciously happy to be back with her old friend. And as his tongue found hers, greeting and stroking and testing, she decided he was probably right that she was throwing up roadblocks. Oliver’s hands lifted up the hem of her shirt and found bare skin, and she sucked in a breath. His touch was molten fire, the salty sweet taste of alcohol on his tongue so intimate that she pressed farther in until the kiss was so lewd she was sure she was already ready for him.

  “I’ll call him tomorrow,” she whispered against his lips. “And maybe I’ll let it drop that I’ve moved on with a guy who owns a super yacht. I feel like he probably deserves that.”

  His hands tightened on her ass. “And let him know I’m better at hiking, too.”

  Molly couldn’t help it—she started giggling again, but that ended soon enough when Oliver captured her mouth in another soul-shattering kiss.

  Yeah, a phone call was definitely in order.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  OLIVER DIDN’T LOVE that Molly was currently speaking to her ex on the phone while he pretended to work, but he supposed he’d quite literally asked for it. That said, from his chair on the upper deck on the opposite side of the boat from her, he watched as she paced across the floor of the main deck and felt for the angst and heartbreak she was clearly working through.

  Despite her discomfort he still liked looking at her—how the sun alighted on her sandy-blond hair, picking up the gold pieces, her lightly tanned skin brought out her big brown eyes, and her pink lips begged for him to kiss her. He’d been touching her basically nonstop and yet he still hadn’t gotten enough. She gripped the railing and he wondered what the hell that fucknut was saying to her, wanting to smooth the crease in between her eyes. He’d basically given up the pretense of working to watch her even though he should be devising a plan to keep her safe in case his parents ever found out about her, and he mostly had, but as things became more serious between them, the plan had to shift to how he could have her in his life and not let his parents ruin it. Not that they’d physically hurt Molly, but they expected him to come back to his old life, one they wouldn’t think she fit in. However, regardless of if he went back to his old life, he hoped Molly would be at his side. But it was obvious that even without the threat of his parents, she was uncertain about her place in his life as well.

  Their conversation yesterday had been productive in cementing the fact that they were at least in something since she was calling Max now, but it had cost him to have it. Normally, he avoided confrontation and when the few attempted relationships he’d had had gotten to that point, he’d walked away. Jealousy was an entirely new emotion for him. He knew he’d pushed her too hard, but he couldn’t handle just being another guy in her life. He needed to know that what was going on between them meant something to her, because it meant a whole hell of a lot to him, and he apparently needed to make that clear to her as well.

  She was leaning against the railing now, eyes trained on her feet. He couldn’t hear her conversation but he wished he could. The longer she talked, the more that thread of doubt creeping over him gained traction.

  His unease increased as another half hour passed and she was still talking, now sitting on a deck chair, smiling. It was far too chummy for his liking and considering that guy had put her through so much misery. Putting the final touch on the email he’d been writing, he shut the laptop and debated his options. What he wanted to do was go down there and throw her damn phone in the ocean and drag her back to bed, but she’d most likely punch him in the face.

  However much of a lovesick idiot he might already be, he truly did want to make sure she was doing all right, so he grabbed two beers from the kitchen on his way down to the main deck and held one out to her when he reached her. She accepted it with a grateful smile and took a long swig, clearly needing a drink and the alcohol.

  “You okay?” he mouthed so he didn’t interrupt her.

  She nodded with an
eye roll but didn’t indicate that she’d be ending the call soon.

  Hesitating, he leaned down and gave her a kiss on the cheek, just so she knew he was here for her.

  Trying to put the possibility of Molly’s defection from his boat out of his mind, he went back to the kitchen to start on lunch. He pulled out a bunch of stuff for sandwiches as well as the salad she’d made yesterday, put it all on a tray and took it up to the table on the sky lounge. He waited another half hour before he went ahead and ate lunch without her. It wasn’t until he heard her trill of laughter that his gut clenched and he knew he was a goner because he wanted to be a good support for her, but the idea of her going back to her ex made him crazy. That laugh had him thinking maybe he had things entirely wrong. Just because he’d thought about Molly over the years didn’t mean she’d felt the same way. It’d been highly foolish to assume they could just walk back into a relationship after so many years. She had an entire life he knew nothing about and the more he heard her laugh, the more this sad reality was apparent to him. A miscalculation on his part. He’d been so eager to see her, to touch her, to smell her again, that he hadn’t been smart about it.

  He was a mess and very much in trouble with her because while he trusted her, it was already difficult for him to imagine returning to a life without her. The new life he was forging seemed less important if she wasn’t by his side.

  Another fifteen minutes passed before she appeared in the doorway, a sheepish smile on her face. But it was fine because he’d composed himself, understood how he needed to proceed now. He needed to get himself together and act like a person who had control over his rampant emotional state. He wasn’t just some guy with a lot of money and so few true friends that he’d created a fantasy life with a woman he’d dated years ago. Of course not.

  “Hey,” she said, her voice soft, “sorry that was so long.”

  He shrugged as if he didn’t care. “It was a cold lunch anyway. No harm done.”

  She met his eyes, obviously reading something in his tone, but he just offered her a benign smile.