by Emma Castle
She tasted innocent, but she wasn’t inexperienced. She met him kiss for kiss, leaving his body on fire with a growing hunger for more. He answered her with a savage intensity, drinking in as much of her as he could, his hands roaming over her, exploring her, the flare of her hips, the curve of her spine, and the feel of her shoulders and face as he touched her wherever he could.
A dreamy intimacy cloaked him as he made love to her mouth, showing her what he desperately wanted to do to her body. He wanted to spend hours with her in bed on Sunday mornings, kissing every inch of her after he’d given her such sweet pleasure that she would never want to leave.
He clutched her to him a moment longer before he heard Noah bark. Their mouths parted, the spell broken. He still held her hips, their bodies touching as they gazed at each other in shocked silence. Her lips were swollen and wet, and her eyes glowed with desire, but he could see she was coming back to her senses, like he was.
For a second neither of them moved or spoke. Then she blushed.
“Uh-oh . . .”
Uh-oh didn’t even begin to cover the trouble they were both in.
3
Last night had been a big mistake. She shouldn’t have let him kiss her. This move was supposed to give her time to breathe, to forget about guys and relationships and just let her focus on herself for a bit. Yet Ophelia kept replaying that kiss over and over in her mind. She had just asked him to be friends, and he’d pulled her into his arms and given her the most amazing kiss of her entire life. She hadn’t known a kiss could feel like that, like the beginning and end of the world all at the same time. Yet it had, and she couldn’t look at his house anymore without thinking about that kiss.
She forced her eyes away from the window and settled at her desk in the small room just off the dining room to begin her work. She logged in and spent the next few hours reviewing customer fashion profiles and matching their needs to a variety of potential items that could be packed and shipped off, along with a personal message to each customer. When it was five o’clock, she logged off and headed to the kitchen to figure out what to do with the rest of her Sunday.
The doorbell rang. Miranda was there at the door waiting, along with two other women.
“Miranda!”
“Hey, Ophelia. I brought two of the gals I mentioned yesterday. This is Eliza and Jennifer.”
Ophelia remembered. According to Miranda, they were two of the more interesting divorcées on the street. They seemed nice, but Ophelia sensed they would love to know every little detail that Ophelia could share about Colt, now that she was living next to him. But she wouldn’t talk about him, if she could help it. She was determined to have Colt as her friend, and would not betray his confidence. The last thing she would do was tell these women about how earth-shattering his kisses were.
“You off work, honey?” Miranda asked.
“I just finished for the day. What’s up?”
“We ladies have an unofficial Sunday-night drink club. We would love for you to join us.”
Drinks did sound nice right about now.
“I’d like that.” She followed the ladies across the street to Jennifer’s home. There was a long porch in the front of the house with cozy hanging benches and brightly covered deck chairs facing the street. Ophelia chose a chair and accepted a glass of white wine from Eliza.
“So, you settling in okay?” Miranda asked once everyone had drinks and was comfortably seated.
“Yes, I unpacked most of my stuff yesterday.”
Eliza leaned forward, smiling deviously. “Okay, let’s get to the good stuff, girls. Ophelia, we know you went over to Colt’s last night. Dish, girl. It’s a part of our Sunday-night ladies’ code.”
“How did you—?”
“I saw you,” Jennifer said. “My kitchen window faces the street.”
Oh boy . . .
“It’s not what you think. I ran into Colt at the store, and he helped me after I tripped and fell.”
Eliza nodded. “The tuna incident? Yeah, we heard.”
“You heard?” Ophelia didn’t know whether she should laugh or shake her head.
Jennifer waved a hand. “Small town. Word travels, honey. Continue.”
“Anyway, I was exhausted, and he offered to cook me dinner since he was already grilling.”
“Wait, he offered to cook dinner? Or was he like, ‘I’ll just throw a steak on the grill’?” Miranda asked.
“Definitely the latter.”
Eliza sighed in disappointment. “Shame. I thought for sure we’d found someone he would like.”
“What?” Ophelia prayed to God these women weren’t trying to play matchmaker with Colt . . . or her.
“He’s our brooding resident bachelor. It’s fun to see if we can catch his attention with someone,” Jennifer explained. “When he first moved in, I mowed my lawn in my bikini for two months just to see what he would do. I had the best tan that year, but he never gave me the time of day.”
Ophelia was surprised by that. Even entering their forties, both Eliza and Jennifer were gorgeous women in their own right, and they were way more confident about themselves than she was. If Colt hadn’t looked at them twice, she didn’t stand a chance.
Then what about that kiss?
That might have just been a one-time thing. Maybe it was the alcohol. Maybe it was just an opportunity he took but instantly regretted. The thoughts made her heart sink.
“We thought he might be looking for someone, you know, a little younger. Ever since Miranda described you, we’ve all been dying to see what Colt will do.”
As if on cue, Colt’s front door opened and he stepped outside, Noah on his heels, leashed and clearly excited.
“It’s five thirty, girls. Here we go.” Miranda leaned back in her place on the swinging bench and sipped her wine.
“What happens at five thirty?” Ophelia asked in a whisper.
“Colt goes running with his dog. Every night at this time.”
They all turned to watch him head in their direction as he walked down the sidewalk toward the street. He wore basketball shorts and a tank top that showed off his perfectly toned arms. He didn’t even glance their way as he started to jog, his dog keeping pace.
“It’s got to be the military lifestyle. He rarely misses a run.” Miranda kicked her legs against the porch floor to make her bench swing a little.
“So back to this dinner,” Eliza prompted. “What’s his house like inside?”
“Normal?” Ophelia wasn’t sure what these women expected. “A bit masculine, for sure, but it’s cozy and nice. His backyard is lovely. He really has a talent for gardening.”
“No kinky sex dungeon?” Jennifer asked. Eliza smacked her arm.
“What? No. I mean, I don’t know. I only saw the living room, kitchen, and backyard.”
“Ah, thank goodness, that leaves the basement. I was having the best fantasies of him in one of those sex rooms with toys and stuff. Fifty Shades style.”
Eliza snorted. “You would. If he and I were together, we wouldn’t need toys.”
Ophelia watched Eliza and Jennifer trade barbs. Miranda rolled her eyes with an indulgent smile and continued to drink her wine.
The conversation soon turned to other topics—children, ex-husbands, the latest local scandals of who was building some god-awful shed or who was not keeping their lawns up to code. Ophelia sipped her wine and gazed at Colt’s house, unable to avoid thinking about him and his bedroom and his imaginary sex dungeon and all the things that might happen there. She shouldn’t fantasize about him, she really shouldn’t, but it was hard not to with the images the ladies had put into her head.
Ophelia didn’t know what he would be like in bed, not from that one kiss, but she could imagine. The kiss had started soft and insistent, but he’d deepened it and his hands . . . they had been everywhere. Possessive, cupping and stroking in an almost dominant way but not quite. Would he be the kind of man who wanted to tie her up and fuck her hard? Or wo
uld he be slow and sweet, taking his time to draw out an endless orgasm? The only thing she was sure of after that one kiss was that he would devastate her.
After her breakup with Jack, she wasn’t sure she wanted a man to have that kind of power over her again. And she hadn’t even been wildly in love with Jack. They had enjoyed being together, but it was more like companionship than love. And yet being dumped by him had hurt so much. The idea of liking a man even more than that? Of loving someone and getting her heart broken? That was the last thing she needed. Colt would have to devastate her only in her deepest, darkest fantasies.
Colt was determined to be on his best behavior. He had made it a full two months now without kissing Ophelia since she had moved in. Everything felt almost normal.
Almost.
He’d gotten into the habit of taking walks in the morning with Noah, and one morning Ophelia had just sort of joined him. Now they’d been meeting up to walk every day since. Then it had seemed only natural that he’d come over to her house a few times a week to help weed her front flower beds. He’d also carried bags of mulch for her, since she was so damn small.
They’d had drinks at her place more than once, and he’d found himself talking about his past, his parents, the rough times he’d had as a teen, and how he’d ended up in the navy.
In turn, she’d told him all about her life back in Portland and how she’d gotten burned out working for a fancy fashion designer who’d yelled at everyone all the time. Colt had never laughed so hard as when she told stories about the fashion industry and all the crazy personalities involved.
They really had become friends, just as Ophelia had told him she’d wanted. Colt, to his own surprise, didn’t mind that at all. In fact, it gave him an incentive to get up in the mornings. Noah was crazy about Ophelia and had apparently decided that his training to stay in place or heel did not apply whenever Ophelia was in sight. Colt wasn’t mad—he could understand the dog’s desire to bound up to her and lick her. Hell, he had the same desire to run up and grab her and kiss her senseless. He had done nothing since the night of the kiss two months ago but fantasize about Ophelia naked and making love to her until she cried out in exhausted pleasure.
The fantasies didn’t stop there. He was not a man who was shy in bed. He could be rough and playful, sweet or dirty depending on his mood, and he kept running through every delicious scenario he could imagine of how he would taste Ophelia. Colt had never jacked off in the shower so much in his life as he had since she had moved in. He’d become as horny as some teen, getting hard at the sight of her just walking to her mailbox, or while she watered her potted plants in her backyard and he could hear her humming. The woman was a damn temptation, and if he didn’t keep his shit together, he would give in to his need.
In order to stay out of trouble, he’d been visiting the VA center almost every other day after work, and it was where he was headed now, to keep his thoughts decidedly away from the tempting girl next door.
“I think you’re coming here too often,” Nancy teased as he and Noah walked into the center.
“You can’t ever spend too much time with your fellow veterans,” he replied, and he meant it. The veterans in their country were always forgotten. They’d served and sacrificed and went silent while others whined about shit they wouldn’t even have if not for people like them who’d kept them safe. The irony was how that same tough silence meant they were increasingly overlooked—by the public and far too often by the government. The thought always made Colt furious.
“Hey, turn that frown upside down,” Nancy teased. “Tell me what’s going on. You’ve been amped up for the last couple of months.”
Colt leaned against the wall of the lobby, which had filled with veterans who came to visit Noah. “Just neighborhood shit,” he grumbled.
“Are those divorcées mowing their lawns in bikinis again? You poor baby.” Nancy’s playful sarcasm didn’t go unnoticed. “Have you ever thought about dating again? You would put off those nosy neighbors, and you might actually have a good time yourself. You weren’t born to be a monk, Colt. God gave you that body so women could enjoy it.”
He definitely wasn’t born to be a monk, but the woman he wanted didn’t deserve a casual hookup. Ophelia was the kind of girl a man married and worshiped the rest of his life, and Colt wasn’t sure he was ready for that after Talia.
“Nance, what Dean and Talia did—”
“It sucks, I know. But not every woman is like her. Most of us are pretty damn loyal and awesome.” She gave him a pointed look, and he curled an arm around her shoulders.
“You are awesome, Nance. Why don’t I just date you?”
She laughed heartily and nudged him in the ribs with an elbow. “I’m flattered, but you aren’t my type, honey. I like ’em with blond hair and blue eyes.” Her gaze betrayed her as she watched a tall blond-haired man roughing up Noah’s fur, much to the dog’s enjoyment. The man had one leg amputated below the knee, and he was wearing a prosthetic limb.
“Don’t tell me you’re shy?” Colt teased.
“Maybe a little, at least with that hottie,” Nancy admitted.
“Hey, bro!” Colt called out. Nancy gasped and tried to run away, but Colt held her in place. “Nancy here wants to go out with you.”
The man took one look at Nancy and came right over.
“I’m going to kill you, Colt,” Nancy warned before turning on her bright smile as the soldier joined them. Colt took the opportunity to retrieve Noah, and then they headed to the parking lot. He was just putting Noah in the truck when someone called his name. He closed his truck door and turned, expecting to see someone from the center.
Colt’s hands clenched at his sides as he recognized the man. Dean Griffin walked toward him, his hands held up, obviously hoping to avoid a fight.
“Hey, man, I’ve been trying to call you for months.”
“I blocked your number.” The last thing he wanted was to talk to the man who had ruined his life.
“Just give me a minute, okay?” Dean begged.
Colt looked down and saw the glint of silver on Dean’s ring finger. “You married her, didn’t you?” God, this day was going to shit fast.
“Yeah, I did, but—”
Colt threw three punches before Dean could finish. The blows sent Dean sprawling on his ass.
“Fuck!” Dean gripped his face with one hand, spitting blood. “You and your fucking haymakers, Colt, Christ. I forgot how much I hated fighting with you.” He climbed to his feet and stood there, his guard lowered. “Go ahead. Hit me, man. I owe you that.”
For a second, Colt’s pulse spiked as his blood roared in his ears, but Noah’s barking interrupted his building adrenaline. He calmed. Dean wasn’t the enemy. He was a cheating asshole, nothing more.
“I’m sorry, Colt. I fucked it all up. I betrayed you. I betrayed our friendship. I know what we had is gone, but I had to find you and tell you I’m sorry. That’s all.” Dean was quiet, honest, and for the first time Colt felt the hot anger inside him begin to fade.
“I heard you’d been looking for me. How did you find me?”
“Vets talk.” Dean chuckled. “You weren’t that hard to find. I drove two hours to get here, but it was worth it.” He held his jaw. “Well, except for that part.”
Colt sighed. “So, you and Talia?”
“Married six months ago.” Dean smiled wryly. “She’s pushing me to go after promotions.”
“You always were more ambitious than me.”
“I suppose,” Dean agreed. “Anyway, I’m sorry I surprised you.”
“It’s fine . . . now.” If he had seen Dean two months ago, Colt would have thrown more than one punch. But things had changed. He had changed. Somehow that one kiss with Ophelia had set something in motion. He wasn’t quick to change, but he was like molten lava beneath the surface, rolling, tumbling, burning, and perpetually changing inside.
“I wish things had turned out different,” said Dean.
&nb
sp; “Yeah, but they didn’t. And maybe it’s for the best.”
Dean held out a hand to Colt, who stared at it for a long second. He thought of Ophelia and what she would want him to do, and then he placed his palm in Dean’s, giving it a shake before letting go.
“Well, I should go.” Dean nodded at him and turned to walk away.
“Take care, Dean.”
“You too, man.”
Colt gave himself a moment before he got into his truck and drove home.
It was early evening when he pulled into his driveway. Ophelia was out in her front yard, spreading mulch in the beds planted against her house. The sight of her cute butt in the air as she bent over made him smile, and he got hard thinking of all the sweet, wicked things he could to if she was bent over in front of him.
Maybe Nancy was right. Maybe he was brave enough to trust his heart to someone again. Maybe it was time.
She waved when she saw him. “Hey, Colt!” She came over, and her vibrant smile began to fade. “What happened to your hand?” She removed her gardening gloves and tossed them to the ground.
“What?” He looked down and saw the knuckles of his right hand were bruised and bloody.
“Let me see.” She took his hand and pulled it toward her. “You have a first aid kit?”
He nodded toward his place. “In the house.”
“Let’s get you cleaned up.” She grasped his wrist so as not to hurt him. God, she was sweet. He was perfectly capable of tending to himself, but he didn’t want to give her a reason to leave. He let Noah into the house first and then retrieved his first aid kit from the bathroom.
“So, you want to tell me what happened?” Ophelia asked. She took the kit from him, and they headed into the kitchen, where the light was best. She opened the lid with a frown and removed two packets of alcohol wipes and some antibacterial cream.