THE STARLIGHT HILL COMPLETE COLLECTION: 1-8

by Bell, Heatherly

  “Let’s get you home.” Riley opened the passenger side door to his truck and she climbed in.

  “I’m sorry I ruined dinner.”

  “You owe me.” He grinned and pulled the truck out of the parking lot.

  It would be nice if she didn’t find him so damned attractive. If he didn’t make her heart squishy and her legs a little weak. But he always had, from the moment she’d first laid eyes on him at Henry’s. Tonight her arms and legs, her entire body, felt numb for a completely different reason. She just wanted to go home and curl up in bed with a good book, Hershee at her feet to keep warm. She wanted to forget she was ever young and stupid enough to be fooled by a fake friend.

  Riley had meant well, she understood. As the one who had to keep leaving, he didn’t want Sophia to lose her one and only friend. She repeated this to herself over and over, but she couldn’t help wishing he’d told her anyway. He took her keys from her and helped her inside the house because her hands were still trembling. She walked to her couch and collapsed on it, pulling a blanket over her still somewhat shaky legs. Within two seconds of blanket placement, Hershee jumped and settled on Sophia’s lap.

  “You okay?” Riley asked from the edge of the couch, where he watched her. Calm. Assessing.

  “I’m okay. Thank you.”

  Sophia flipped on Netflix and surfed for something familiar and comforting to watch. A comedy. It would be best if Riley left, though, because she was afraid that she wasn’t all cried out yet.

  But Riley didn’t go. “You didn’t eat.”

  Uh-oh. He had on his serious, we’re-not-fooling-around-here-but-getting-down-to-business-look.

  “I’ll have something in a while.” She leaned her head back and sighed loudly. Closed her eyes so maybe he’d take the hint.

  He didn’t.

  Riley was in her kitchen, his jacket tossed on the couch. She heard him opening a can of something, very likely soup because that was Riley’s go-to comfort food. Next, sounds of him probably rummaging in her cabinets for a pan.

  “Bottom right.” No use trying to stop him.

  As she heard him in the kitchen lighting the stove, pouring, stirring, a sense of warmth and comfort came over her. He couldn’t cook much, but damned if that soup out of a can didn’t always taste so much better when he heated it up. He’d always taken good care of her. They’d taken care of each other. Until, of course, he gave up on them. By the time he brought her the soup in a bowl, she’d worked up a whole different kind of feeling.

  She stirred the soup, the smells of chicken broth rising out of the steam. It was way too hot. “I’m mad at you.”

  “For making soup?” He frowned.

  “You know why.”

  He groaned. “I don’t like to play this game.”

  “This isn’t a game. It’s my life.”

  “Mine too. So spell it out for me.” He sat next to her on the couch and stretched his long legs out in front of him. Hershee, maybe sensing he might want to take her spot, growled at him in warning.

  “You left me.”

  “No, you left me.”

  Sophia blew out a breath. They could keep this up all night long. “You made the choice.”

  “Let’s not do this all over again. Maybe we were stupid to get married so young—”

  “Stupid?” The heartache was back, and he’d brought it with him. “I don’t want to hear this. You regret marrying me.”

  “Never. I regret I rushed you and asked you to do something you weren’t ready to do.”

  “I was ready to be your wife.”

  He didn’t answer but only studied her. “Eat.”

  She took a bite somewhat automatically and felt immediately annoyed with herself for listening to him. “You’re bad for me. So bad.”

  What she didn’t say, because she didn’t even want to voice it, was that he’d somehow become nothing but a constant reminder of loss. Pain. Of a fear so overwhelming and raw it threatened to take over everything in its path.

  “I’m not. I’m what the doctor ordered.”

  “It’s kind of like this. I can’t have Chunky Monkey every day of the week. It’s called will power. So even if I’d like to, I can’t. And when I’m on a diet, it’s better not to even have it in the house.”

  He moved closer, so that his shoulder was touching hers. “So what do you want? Vanilla?”

  “Not vanilla.” She took another sip, moved her legs and Hershee jumped off her lap, disgusted with Sophia for not sitting still enough for Her Highness. “Maybe Neopolitan. It’s good enough but not so much that I want it every day of the week.”

  “Everybody should indulge a little now and then.” Riley stood up, took Sophia’s bowl and set it on the coffee table.

  He pulled her up off the couch by her elbows and the blanket fell to the ground at her feet. “Admit it. You’d like to eat Chunky Monkey every day of the week. And sometimes you catch yourself thinking about it in the middle of the day. Wondering how you could get away with it.”

  “Maybe.” She’d forgotten how perfect it felt to be this close to him, their breaths comingled. Without a doubt, she’d once known he would have breathed for her if he could. He would have once done anything for her.

  “You want Chunky Monkey. Admit it.” He pulled her closer, until she could feel every hard ridge of his body against her and then he pulled her closer still.

  “We’re not talking about ice cream, are we?”

  “No.” He kissed her. Not a tender kiss at all, but rough and claiming.

  Her hands fisted his shirt, and then with both hands she untucked it at his waist, letting her palms glide up his hard chest, touching the soft short hairs between her fingers. How she’d missed this, missed him. No matter what, they’d always had this part right. Touching, feeling. She got lost in him again, but this time she didn’t mind so much. The landscape seemed familiar and almost comforting.

  Riley squeezed her ass, his other hand sliding under her sweater to tug her bra cup aside.

  She moaned, grasping for him, tugging him closer. She wanted this, needed him like her next breath. There was no denying any longer. And even if she’d later hate herself for being weak again, well, she’d think about that later.

  But then just as suddenly as he’d kissed her, he stopped and dropped his arms.

  “Maybe if I just have a small cup of Chunky Monkey. For old times’ sake.” She pulled on his arm, directing him toward the bedroom. “Stay with me.”

  “Slow down, baby.”

  “It’s this way to the bedroom.” Sophia tugged on his hand again, a little like trying to move a mountain. “Just like your floor plan but reversed.”

  “Wait.” He bit his lower lip and didn’t move.

  “I don’t want to wait. I’ve waited long enough.”

  “You can wait a little bit longer, can’t you?” He grimaced.

  “Why should I?”

  He chuckled and framed her face with both hands. “Because I need you to be sure.”

  “Oh, that. I’m sure, Riley. I want this. I want you.”

  “No,” he said and his hands dropped down again. “I want you to be sure about us.”

  “Us?”

  “You and me. Us. Forever. Can you tell me you’re sure about that?” He studied her.

  “Listen, you and I …” Her voice drifting, she wouldn’t meet his eyes.

  “Yeah.” He moved away from her, picking his jacket up on the way to the door. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

  “But—” Was he seriously leaving her? Now? After all that talk about Chunky Monkey? Bastard!

  “Eat your soup,” he called out and shut her front door.

  Sophia stood rooted to her spot, positive her jaw had lost all elasticity. Not even if you beg. She could hear his smiling, self-assured voice ringing in her ears. No way would she…no. She refused to beg!

  All she could think to do was pick up her boot and throw it at the door.

  13

  Ou
tside Sophia’s house, Riley heard the sound of something hard hit her front door and he winced. Some things never changed. He definitely had a knack for irritating his wife. And now, he had to do something with the rest of his evening when he’d planned on spending it with her. He couldn’t have foreseen that Sophia would be reminded of Nikki tonight, but yeah, it had pissed him off when Priscilla had introduced herself as Claire’s friend and come on to him at the bar. She already knew he was married. He wouldn’t have faulted her otherwise but women who had no respect for marriage irritated the hell out of him. Like Nikki. He’d pegged her as a girl on the make the moment he’d met her, but given how much Sophia seemed to love her he’d decided to give Nikki the benefit of the doubt. And when she’d asked him to come find her if he ever got tired of perfect Sophia, it had taken everything in him not to kick her out of his house. Eventually he would have told Sophia the truth, but what had happened with David had derailed her enough that he couldn’t see adding to her misery when it no longer mattered.

  Both Nikki and David were gone.

  And when Riley had returned for leave after David’s death, he’d found a different Sophia than the one he’d left. His curvy in-all-the-right-places wife had lost a significant amount of weight. She had dark circles under her eyes.

  The beginning of the end for them.

  He shook his head. He didn’t want to think about any of that any more. All in the past, he reminded himself. By every indication, Sophia looked completely recovered from what he’d put her through. Gained all her lost weight, all color back in her cheeks and the shine back in her bright brown eyes. Back to being the girl he’d loved so desperately.

  Right now he needed a run to blow off some steam so he went home and changed into sweats and running shoes. He set out the door trying not to notice that the lights were still on next door. She’d be cooling off now, maybe even with some Chunky Monkey. Not the kind he’d been talking about but what the hell. She wanted him, and God how he wanted her. And here was the thing: she was still technically his wife. But if he made love to her now, would it be any different than when he was twenty-one and saw what he wanted, then went after her without much thought?

  He liked to believe he was a better man now, and could take his time. Do this right. He wanted reconciliation, and she needed time to forgive him for being an idiot. He got that. She was holding back from him because for years she’d taken one look at him and seen danger, death, risk and abandonment. But she should also see love. Loyalty. And if she’d had any doubts about that last one, he hoped he’d finally put them to rest tonight. She would open up her heart again when she realized he wasn’t going anywhere. Never abandoning her again.

  Impervious to the chill that had descended on the winter night, he kept running. Rain predicted tonight. Good thing since they needed it. At the top of the hill, once he’d run approximately two miles, he stopped to take a breath and looked at his watch. Nine thirty. He should check in on Lucy, whom he hadn’t talked to in a few days.

  “Hello, brother,” she answered after the second ring. “I’m still alive.”

  “Great. What’s up with you?”

  “Dick, I mean Richard and I are getting along a lot better. You’d be surprised. He can really be nice and he’s sorry and all. Maybe we should all four go out to dinner sometime.”

  Except for the fact that Riley would rather have his balls roasted over a raging fire than expose Sophia to Dickhead, that sounded like a swell idea.

  “Sure. Sometime.” He took a breath. “Thinking maybe it’s time for you to try rehab, Luce.”

  “Again? You ought to know that never works. It’s a waste of your hard-earned money.”

  “I don’t mind. And it never worked before because you always kept coming back to the same environment.”

  “What else am I supposed to do? This is my home. Mom’s house. I can’t just move.”

  “Right.”

  Except he knew, and Sophia and all the so-called expert reality TV doctors were right in that coming back into the same old associations was the reason for high failure rates. “I’m thinking maybe it’s time to get rid of the old house.”

  “We can’t do that. This was our family house. We grew up here.” She actually sounded wistful.

  Such great memories too. Sometimes it felt like he and Lucy had grown up in two different households. She’d lived in the one her swiss cheese brain remembered, and he’d lived in the real one.

  “Prices have gone up and some developer might want the house. You never know.”

  “You’re probably right, but where am I going to live? With you and Sophia?”

  He winced at the thought. “We’re not together.”

  Lucy snorted. “It’s just a matter of time. You’ll get her back. Unless I’m living with you. I could be the reason you don’t get her back and I can’t live with that.”

  Another ready-made excuse for Lucy. He didn’t believe that. It wasn’t in Sophia’s character. She’d be the one, in fact, to suggest it. If they were living together again, that was, and they were so far away from that he didn’t even want to think about it.

  “You’re my sister. She’d understand. And anyway, you don’t have to live with me. I’m sure we can find you a place.” Out of town, he wanted to say. Maybe even out of state. Start over. But Lucy wouldn’t want to hear that. He wondered what it would take for her to realize she couldn’t get better. Not here.

  “Don’t worry about me. I think I can do this on my own. I really do this time. I’ll do what the counselors at rehab told me to do but on my own. I’ll keep a journal and write down when things upset me. Triggers.”

  “Yeah?” And then what, he restrained himself from asking. The coping skills seemed to be the missing part of the equation.

  “Sure, bro. Don’t even give me another thought. Just get that wife of yours back.”

  He told Lucy he’d check back soon, hung up and ran half-way back, then slowed his roll. The run hadn’t achieved its desired effect of getting his thoughts off Sophia. He walked the rest of the way back, hoping by the time he got home good sense would prevail because right now he was dangerously close to knocking on her door if the lights were still on. And he sensed they would be, even before he arrived. What was he thinking, anyway? He had a clear advantage in this situation. They were still married. She wanted him as much as he wanted her. He loved her. She’d get there in time. He just had to be patient. If he didn’t press his advantage, he could quickly lose footing to some other loser. Okay, fine, so he was thinking like a Marine. Kind of hard to switch gears sometimes. He’d be a fool to let this moment pass.

  He went home, took a shower and thought it over some more. Part of the new him, or rather the new man he was trying to become. Thinking. Considering. He changed into another pair of sweats. Still thinking about her. Was there shock therapy for this kind of thing? Enough. Before he could give it another thought, he found himself pounding on her front door. A minute later she opened it dressed in flannel PJs (clearly not expecting him back) and wearing an expression that read: you have two seconds to get this right.

  He wasted none of them. “I changed my mind.”

  In another second he’d stepped through the door and hauled her up in his arms. He pushed the door shut with his back, Hershee yipping and nipping at his ankles. He didn’t feel a thing, more of a nuisance than anything.

  “No, Hershee!” Sophia ordered and the puppy, apparently wounded by Sophia’s harsh tone, went scurrying into a back bedroom.

  Sophia wrapped her legs around his waist as he carried her towards her bedroom. “Aw. You came back.”

  Once inside, he set her down. She looked up at him, her eyes blazing with desire. “This is just one time.”

  He didn’t like that temporary idea, but this was all about small steps with her. Taking it slow. A few minutes ago, he’d had a lot on his mind and so much he wanted to say. Maybe too much, and he realized that the moment he got Sophia naked he would stop thinking at
all. Now was the time to tell her, if ever.

  She smiled and pulled him close. “What’s wrong? Change your mind again?”

  “Not a chance.” He grabbed a fistful of her hair. “You’re stuck with me now.”

  “Then too bad for you that I like that idea.” She moved him towards the bed.

  “I love you, Sophia,” he said and watched as the brown hues in her eyes shifted and changed.

  He didn’t need her to say it back, but he had to tell her. Tell her that from the time he’d chosen to be a gung-ho Marine over her there hadn’t been one single day he hadn’t regretted the choice. Given time, he’d say it all. But tonight he’d take it one step at a time. To lighten the mood, he picked her up and threw her on the bed. She rolled, laughing.

  One more thing he had to tell her.

  “Let’s get this straight. If we do this, I won’t share you. With anyone.”

  “Same goes for me.”

  She was already taking off her flannel PJs, and the blood flow to his brain nearly stopped when he noticed she had nothing on underneath. Maybe she’d had some hope he would return.

  “Why are you still wearing clothes?”

  Clearly, he had changed. Progress. He moved slower than he ever had before with Sophia, but then again that was part of being a man. Taking his time. Making it last. He pulled off his sweatshirt and the t-shirt he wore under it. Kicked off his running shoes. Then Sophia reached for his sweatpants with eager and warm hands.

  And the very next thought in his head was: screw slow.

  14

  Sophia wanted to devour Riley alive the moment she’d seen him darkening her doorway, eyes edgy and intense. She was quickly reminded of the Riley she remembered far too well, the one who couldn’t get enough of her. And she, to be honest, had never had enough of him.