by Kennedy Fox
“Normally, but with the festival, not so much.”
“Ahh.”
“Don’t worry about feeding me, Callum. I’m more of a small meals and snacks kind of woman. When you work as many jobs as I have, snagging food between shifts is the norm.”
“It doesn’t have to be that way.”
She dug into the bag for the last chip then licked the tips of her fingers. “You’re right, but I like my life this way. And working full-time at the salon probably won’t change the eating on the run thing.”
I leaned in and caught a salty kiss. “Or how about a very thoughtful partner who brings his girl dinner for her breaks?”
She smiled into another kiss. “Sounds pretty nice.”
The fact that I could picture that so easily made my chest burn. I rolled her under me on the bed. “I’ll make it up to you with a huge breakfast.”
She didn’t answer me, just welcomed me into her arms with a greedy kiss.
Snacks, dinner, and anything else fell out of my head. Her salty taste made me crave more. I slid my hand up under the T-shirt, coasting my fingertips over her silky flesh. I nipped her chin as my thumb rolled over her tight nipple. They were so damn sensitive. She’d practically crawled out of her skin the moment I touched her.
It only made me want to draw out every damn touch. I’d rushed the first time. Feeling her come apart under my mouth had put me on a one-way collision with impatience. My singular focus had been getting that clasping warmth around me.
I’d almost climbed on her without protection. At the last minute, I’d remembered my wallet and the sole condom in there. And the only reason I had one was because of my brother’s sense of humor. Hudson had stuck a trio in my stocking last year. And yeah, a year’s worth of sex left me with just one.
Again, every part of this situation so wasn’t me.
But I wanted it to be. I wanted to hold onto this feeling for longer than just a night. She was worth more than a few stolen hours. I needed to show her that.
I slowed down each touch until her sighs ended in my name. Her legs shifted under me until she could curl one around my hip, dragging me in closer.
“You’re killing me,” she said as she bit my earlobe. “Inside me. Use that lovely wrapped present, dammit.”
“You want my present?”
She rolled her eyes, but there was laughter dancing in those dark depths. She slipped her hand between us and into my jeans. “If I say yes, will you get the show on the road?”
“Why are you in such a hurry?”
In lieu of an answer, she used some damn impressive muscles to flip me over. She shoved up the thermal shirt I’d been wearing and went for my zipper. “Where’s that box?”
I groaned and lifted my hips to help her get a better hold on me. I fumbled for the box next to us, and she plucked it out of my hands. Before I could say her name, she had the foil ripped and was rolling it down my cock.
She climbed on me and slid slowly down my length. I groaned at her perfect heat and could only hold on. Her head fell back, and her nipples were rock hard against the vintage Hysteria shirt I’d purchased the night before. The shirt that I’d never wear without thinking about this moment.
I shifted so I could sit up and get a taste of her. I pushed at the soft cotton and found her even softer skin. I sucked on one taut tip and tugged at the other until she straightened and met my gaze. Her hair was a halo of honey-brown waves, and her teeth were scoring her lower lip.
I thrust up into her, and the sounds she’d been holding back tumbled free with my name wrapped in a sigh. I banded my arms around her back and held her against me, tipping her hips forward to get deeper. I’d climb inside her if I could. “God, you feel good. So wet and warm,” I said against her neck. “Like you were made for me.”
Her eyes widened just before they closed. I gripped her hair to get her to open them again, but she kept them shut. Almost as if she could block me out.
Hell, I wasn’t just the conduit for her damn pleasure.
I flipped us over and lifted her thigh higher around my ribs. Her eyes popped wide, and the strangled scream she let out eased the tension inside me.
I lowered my mouth and kissed her hard, invading every part of her—tongue, cock, heart. It wasn’t just fucking. It wasn’t just pleasure. I wanted it to be more. Maybe that made me stupid, but it was honest.
As she arched under me, her nails dug into my shoulders, and she tightened around me, her breath fast and labored. She was close, and I wanted to go with her. My knuckles dug into the mattress as I sped up to catch her. To never let her go.
She said my name on a shattered cry, and then it was nothing but her name on my lips as I finally emptied myself inside of her.
I fell on top of her, my knees and back giving out. Suddenly, I was boneless.
Possibly paralyzed too.
I pressed my face into her neck, dragging in that honeyed vanilla scent that clung to her. And maybe a little bit of me was mixed with her now.
The thought made me greedy enough to wish I could have her all over again.
Once certain body parts rejuvenated anyway.
I gently pulled out of her, holding the edge of the condom as I rolled off her. Then I sat up and looked over at her. She had her arm over her face, and she was still breathing hard.
Carefully, I nudged her arm away so I could see her. “It’s never been like this for me either.”
She glanced away.
I tugged back her chin so she would look at me. Her eyes were so damn sad. “Is that so bad?”
She rolled onto her side before tucking her hand under a pillow, but she didn’t answer me.
I blew out a breath and went into the bathroom to take care of the condom.
When I came back out, she was waiting for me. I took it as a good sign that she was still wearing my T-shirt instead of changing into her clothes. She touched my chest briefly then slid past me and closed the door behind her.
Dammit, why was everything so hard with her? Couldn’t she see how good we were together? Would it really be so awful trying to make this work?
Maybe I was an asshole.
Padding over to the bench near the dresser in my room, I pulled out my notebook from my messenger bag and sat down. Now that I knew more about her, I could fill in some of the blurrier details. The little mole beside her chin and another on the edge of her collarbone. The hoops she wore.
I didn’t know how long she was in the bathroom, but when I looked up, she was staring down at my drawing.
Her eyebrows knitted as she drank in the details—including the red scarf I’d adjusted on the form. It was an undulating ribbon of cashmere dancing around her curves.
“Are you drawing me?”
“Drew, actually.” I turned the pad around so she could get a better look.
“Naked?”
“Well, it was more of a wish fulfillment thing at first. This crazy-beautiful girl kisses me under the mistletoe—”
“And so, you what? Go for an anime version of me with lusher tits and ass?”
“No.” I looked down at the drawing. “Okay, so it’s a little more of an idealized woman instead of you.”
“Thanks.”
“No.” I growled. “It’s coming out wrong. I just drew you because I couldn’t get you out of my head. And now you’re here, and I wanted to capture you.” I set the notebook down and touched the little mole on her chin. “The real you.”
I traced the back of my knuckles down her neck. “Longer, more elegant neck and finer shoulders. Beautiful, firm breasts.” I cupped her for a moment before sliding down to her hips and the scrap of lace she’d put back on.
I dug my fingers into her hips and drew her closer to me. “The real woman I’m getting to know is the one I want, not the moment’s fantasy.”
She was still frowning, but she didn’t pull away. “It’s a lot, Callum.”
“I’m an artist—for real. It’s how I process things. It was the
only thing I could do to figure out how to keep the moment.”
“But I’m naked.”
I huffed out a half laugh. “Well, I’m still a guy. And you’re so goddamn beautiful, you stole my brain cells.” I lifted my hands to cup her face. “I admit it, I’m a little weird. But you have a notebook full of floating heads from magazines that you attacked with scissors and glue.”
She laughed and relaxed a little. “I suppose that’s true.”
I pressed a light kiss to her mouth and led her back to bed. “Stay with me tonight.”
“I should really head home.”
I flicked back the covers. “I promise I won’t ask for more if you still want to leave in the morning. I hope I can change your mind.” I took her hand and toyed with the ring on her thumb. I’d need to add that to the drawing. “Give me tonight, at least.”
She sat on the mattress and tucked her legs under the sheet. I turned out the light and slid in beside her. Sometimes the dark was an easier place to talk. I curled her into my body, my front to her back until she relaxed against my chest.
“Tell me about your new job.”
She settled into the abundance of pillows. “It’s not really new.”
“Feels new.”
“More like advancing from intern to novice.”
“Explain.”
“I’ve been going to night school—or day. However you want to put it. Part time for a really long time. In between working two jobs, I was able to get some experience at the salon while I took all the certification classes. But I also had to get so many hours in at the school salon. It was a lot of hair-cutting for free. Well, mostly free. I was able to get some tips on the side, but the school does cheap haircuts to get people to come in. The one nice thing is I learned to cut all hair types. It broadened my training, going slower.”
She lightly drew her nails up and down my arm as she spoke of the various hardships of training to get ready to go out into the real world. Like an apprenticeship. I likened it to my own job. I’d worked as a teaching assistant for peanuts until I’d finally finished my education to be a professor.
I’d felt like something was missing, so I’d turned to art. I understood some of what she was describing.
“Because school took so long, I feel like I can go right to a booth rental at Melody’s shop.”
I threaded my fingers through her hair as she spoke about her dreams. For the first time, it seemed like I was getting to know her.
At least it was a start.
“I can work for myself, finally. No one else.”
“Seems like you’ve been doing that all along.”
“It’s different.” Her voice was getting drowsy. “I actually think I’m ready for the first time.”
I continued to stroke her hair, a sensation of peace coming over me. This was right where I was supposed to be. She was exactly who—and what—I’d been meant to find.
Her deep, even breathing dragged me along into dreams as well. I dreamed of her in a strange old house with rooms of all different sizes. A maze of a place full of towers and large glass arches. Her voice was a soft echo full of laughter, but it always seemed just out of reach.
Finally, I found her on the wraparound porch. A white dress shirt teased her thighs, and those big gold hoop earrings glinted almost as brightly as her smile.
A knock at the door dragged me out of the dream.
Sun slanted into the room. I rolled over, but the sheets had long ago cooled.
She was gone.
I stumbled out of bed and jerked on my jeans. Another knock had me scrubbing my face with my hands to wake up. “What?”
“Maid service.”
“Can you come back?”
“Yes, sir.”
I glanced around the room. There wasn’t a trace of her left. Her coat, her bag, and even her scarf were all gone this time.
Disappointment carved through me, quick and sharp.
I trudged into the bathroom to do my business then brushed my teeth. I didn’t want to wash her off my skin quite yet.
I went back into the main part of my room and saw something white propped up on my notebook on the dresser.
You gave me one of the loveliest Christmases that I can remember. I haven’t had a whole lot to smile about in the last few years, but you gave me that. I’m sorry I couldn’t stay. It’s just easier this way.
Thank you, Callum.
Ellie
I crinkled the note and swore. I thought I’d gotten through to her. Thought she might have given us a chance. I wanted to go after her to try to make her see what she was throwing away.
But I couldn’t.
I’d promised her she could walk away if that was what she really wanted.
I tossed the note into the trash bin and headed for the shower.
Evidently, it was time to leave Crescent Cove in my rearview mirror.
Chapter Ten
ELLIE
VALENTINE’S DAY
I pushed the broom across the clay-colored matte tile. Clippings from a half dozen clients shuffled along the floor in front of my favorite rubber broom. It had been a busy morning. People excited for a romantic evening had come in for last-minute beautifications.
My book was slowly growing with customers. Some were from the Cove thanks to my years at Brewed Awakening and before that at Robbie’s Pizza.
I’d made plenty of acquaintances in town. Enough that I was able to network a little with help from a few coupons. I’d also been doing some videos on the Instagram and TikTok accounts I’d convinced Melody to try out. I was in charge of them, but I actually didn’t mind it. Our followers were slowly increasing due to some clever hashtags as well.
All the books I’d read and workshops I’d taken in marketing over the years were finally proving useful. With a little luck from walk-ins and word of mouth, things seemed to be looking up.
I’d given myself six months of savings in a special slush account to cover living expenses, booth rental, and of course my apartment rent. If I really needed to dip into my nest egg, I could. Budgeting had been my life for a long time. Long enough that I still lived way below my means even though I didn’t have to anymore.
I was already seeing steady growth in my bank account, especially since I’d established multiple payment options to accommodate younger clients. Melody, the owner of the salon, was still living with a cash and carry setup for the most part, but I was slowly getting her to come around to my way of thinking.
All in all, I was happy.
But I was always tired. A good kind of tired most of the time. Falling into bed after working a full day doing what I loved was a new feeling. And okay, maybe I was going to bed before nine o’clock most nights. It was winter, and the days were shorter.
February was made for sleeping in when I could, and I’d found a lot of joy in making some improvements in the salon. Melody hadn’t exactly been on board right away, but money talked. Clients were already commenting on how spa-like the place felt. I’d also used my own cash and time. I’d become comfortable with do-it-yourself ideas years ago because money hadn’t been abundant for most of my life.
In the end, Melody thought we could charge a little more because we looked so posh.
I’d done that. My ideas and my ingenuity. Self-pride was new to me, but it felt good.
Most nights I was too tired to think about the man who’d come into my life like a spring storm. Wild and messy, full of wind and excitement. Just as fast as he’d arrived, I knew he’d be gone.
I’d made sure to leave first.
I wasn’t sure I could have handled him walking away. It was humbling to know that. He’d overwhelmed me not only physically, but with the way he saw me. That fantasy drawing he’d done of a seductive, almost playful woman—that wasn’t who I was.
At least I didn’t think so.
Sooner or later, he’d see that and lose interest. It had happened many times in my life to my mother and I. Hot and heavy passion was
easy, but there was rarely any lasting substance.
And Callum was an artist, for God’s sake. There was no stability there. No peace. And I couldn’t allow myself to wonder or hope. Not now. Not when I was just putting my plans into motion.
I had a stubborn side, one I stuffed under the bed each morning. After the lonely nights that made me wonder a bit too much. That insane little voice that said what if? It was the same one who wouldn’t let me delete the message from Kinleigh with Callum’s phone number.
I hadn’t been expecting her call the week between Christmas and New Year’s. I hadn’t recognized the number, but I knew Kinleigh’s sweet voice as she left a rambling explanation about the man who’d been looking for me. And she had a gut feeling that I should give him a chance.
Maybe I thought about him sometimes when the day was slow, or the night was long. Maybe I almost called him once or five times.
Suddenly, the floor wavered in my vision. I leaned to the left, and if I hadn’t had the broom handle to hold on to, I would have gone down.
“Whoa, Ellie.” Paisley Jones, the third stylist in the salon, rushed over to me. Her freakishly strong fingers gripped my upper arm and pushed me into the chair at her station. “You all right?”
“Yeah, just got a little lightheaded there for a second.” Had I eaten today? Nothing appealed lately. “Could you grab my water bottle?”
“Yeah, sure, babe.” Paisley rushed over to my area at the back of the salon and returned with my purple bottle. “Here. Drink up. Have you eaten?”
I shrugged while I gulped the cool water.
“Want me to run over to the diner or Jersey’s for a sandwich?”
I wrinkled my nose. “Everything tastes so ugh lately.” I took another deep drag on my straw.
“I wish. I just entered shark week. I could hoover down everything from the diner’s menu right now. Especially Gina’s new poutine addition. Dear God, that’s good.”