Chapter 16

SIXTEEN

The drive to Rita's place was a quiet one. My parents must have known something was going down in the backyard since they both went up to bed before we went back inside.

Which was for the best.

I'd known Rita had a hard past. There had to be a reason she was so prickly.

I had certainly jammed my foot down my throat half a dozen times and probably didn't deserve her. But I was going to earn time with her and show her that I was worth something more than just a bounce.

Because right now that's all she saw us as, no matter how much I wished it was different.

The moment I had first seen her, she'd pulled at me.

Not just because she was fucking gorgeous, but because there were so many parts of her that didn't match up, making her infinitely interesting. From the flowing dress and her tattoo to her wide intriguing eyes. Then the more I learned, the more I was sunk. Her brain, her smart mouth, her spiny edges, and most of all, the marrow deep loneliness that she tried so hard to hide.

That she'd let me see the real her finally humbled me beyond words.

I glanced at her in the passenger seat. She was staring out the window. There was just enough moon out to show her glittering eyes were still open. She had to be exhausted after crying.

Not just crying. It had been the shattered soul-expelling kind of tears. As if she'd been holding on to that pain for most of her life. To be honest, it was the kind of agony that I wrote about but had never truly understood.

I could imagine it and fight like hell to show it in my drawings and words, but I didn't know it.

Not like Rita did.

Absently, I rubbed the center of my chest since the echo of her cries had settled there like a rock.

She reached over and took my hand, surprising the hell out of me. She caged it on the console with hers near my shifter.

It had to be the first overture she'd ever made toward me.

Oh, she'd kissed me. She'd initiated both of our physical encounters. I couldn't quite call it lovemaking yet. It had been far more profound than any other time I'd had sex. Not that she would believe that.

Especially now that I knew just how alone she'd been her whole life.

While I'd never say it to her, I had a feeling Jenelle had been using her since the beginning. Users always knew who to glom onto. And Rita had been hungry enough to work harder than most.

The perfect kind of mark.

I flipped my hand to hold onto her hand as I made the bend toward her place. The ancient oak was wide and dark as a specter, beckoning me to turn onto her lane. Spooky and yet comforting in a way that only I understood. I'd always been drawn to the dark. Even as a kid, I'd lived for the long nights of winter.

The drawings that came out of me were more darkness with only the barest hint of light.

Was it any wonder Rita drew me so completely?

We were still quiet as I inched up the drive to her cottage. When I opened the door, the night was more like summer with only the barest hint of crispness. I went around and opened her door, easing her out from the low-slung sports car.

Instead of heading to the cottage, I urged her up to the lookout and shifted her in front of me to wrap my arms around her. The moon shimmered on the placid water and the wind kicked up her silky soft hair to tease my chin. I lowered my face into the curve of her neck. "Can I stay?"

She tipped her head to give me more access, which I took full advantage of. I sipped from her skin, tasting the salt of the day and perhaps a hint of the tears she'd shed so spectacularly. The memory of them soaking my shirt, watching them roll down her cheeks to track down her neck, had all but killed me.

"Let me show you that you're not alone, Duchess."

"We're all alone in the end."

"You don't have to be. We don't have to be." I turned her in my arms. "There's never been anyone like you in my life. I want to see where this goes. Take a chance on us."

She lifted a finger to my mouth, teasing the tip of her nail along my lower lip. "Why would you want to be with me?"

I lightly bit the tip of her finger. "Why would I ever want to be with anyone else?"

I couldn't read her green eyes in the dark, but I could still feel the sadness coming off her. The darkness fit us, and I needed to show her that I'd always be there for her.

The idea of it—hell, the truth of it—became a shiver down my spine.

I'd never needed someone until her.

Never thought I'd be the kind of guy who found anyone who fit me like she did. I often was lost in my own damn head and forgot to be present for people. I had a feeling she knew what that was like and maybe even shared the intense link with her art like I did.

I drew her toward the sliding door to the cottage, waiting impatiently for her to unlock the door. When she dropped her bag and reached for the light, I stilled her hand. "Don't."

"Okay," she said quietly.

I led her up the stairs, our fingers linked. The house was quiet save for the sound of the water through the open windows on the top floor. We undressed just as quietly, her eyes glittering in the moonlight that came through the French doors.

I lifted her, setting her on the duvet much like the last time I was here.

But this time, I wasn't in a hurry.

This time, I took the time to worship her with my mouth, with my fingers, even with the soft bristles of my beard until she was writhing under me. She arched up as I drew on the tight tip of her breast. Her taste rose like a fever in my blood. Her hands sank in my hair, holding me to her as she got lost in me.

As we got lost in one another in the dark.

We rolled, both of us vying for dominance on the bed. Through it all, there was only the sighs and groans of pleasure. Until I slipped inside of her, shock holding me rigid.

"Duchess…"

She clasped her legs around me for a moment before she buried her face in my neck. "Drawer."

I almost wanted to say fuck it, but as with all the men in the Cove, we'd been reminded over and over just how easy it was for mistakes to happen. Even if a part of me whispered that it wouldn't be one with her.

But I reached for the drawer and eased out of her to wrap my cock, then I was back inside.

And her sighs were mine, just as much as the sweet clasp of her body. I swallowed every cry until they were a part of me.

I rolled until she was above me and my heart lurched as her body was bathed in that moonlight. I sat up, wrapping around her as I thrust up inside of her again and again. My abs screamed, but I couldn't stop.

She looped her arms around my shoulders as I scraped my teeth along her neck, feeling her wild pulse under my mouth. It matched the insane thrum inside of me and the incredible clasp of her body accepting me into her.

I chased the rocketing pulse.

The answering need between us.

The aching end that was coming far too soon.

Then my name was on her lips as she threw her head back and I knew she was with me.

When I came, it was full of light to combat the dark.

When morning arrived, I was surprised to find her half on my chest, with her thigh over mine. Her hair tickled under my chin as she sighed and moved closer.

Not away.

Progress.

My phone buzzed from somewhere on the floor. Probably in my pocket somewhere. I closed my eyes and ignored it. There was no way I was going to give up this morning with her.

It pulsed again and my annoyance must have translated to her.

"Just get it," she said against my chest.

"They can go hang."

She huffed out a laugh. "Good luck." She lifted her head and smiled up at me. "Figure it out and I'll make us breakfast."

"You cook?"

She pinched my side. "Yes, I cook. Ish ."

I laughed and lowered my mouth to hers for a soft kiss. "If there are eggs involved, I like mine over easy."

"Handy that, me too." She nipped at my lower lip. "There's a few extra toothbrushes in the cabinet."

"Are you insulting my morning breath?"

She shrugged and slipped away before I could grab her. She gave a sassy smile over her shoulder as she snagged my shirt off the floor and slid it on as she sailed out of the room.

My dick really liked the idea of her in my clothes.

Especially since she already smelled like me.

And I guess I couldn't fault her on the morning breath after my mom's heavyhanded garlic red sauce.

When my phone buzzed again, I reached down with an annoyed grunt to snag my jeans.

Larsen:

where are you?

You do realize this isn't a vacation.

I got a contact for Asher Wainwright. Tag me back.

Normally, I was a text guy, but that was big news. I dialed him back instead.

"Are you dead?"

"Shut up."

"Why are you calling me?" Larsen's voice was dry.

"You know full well why."

"Yes, but that text was four hours ago."

Guilt hit me sideways. Larsen had come out to help with our printing issues and I was distracted with anything but lately. "Okay, okay. Things got a little…intense."

"I do not want to know about your sex life, son."

"Not that." Though that had been part of it. But there had been so much else going on between me and Rita. More than I even realized. "Where were you last night? You usually can't resist my mom's lasagna."

"Dammit. I didn't know it was lasagna night."

I was glad he hadn't been around after what had happened with Rita the night before. I had a feeling she wouldn't have shared all that with me last night if there had been more people at the house. Hell, I'd been lucky one of my brothers hadn't been there as well.

It would have been good for Rita on one hand, and probably more overwhelming on the other.

Now that I knew a little more about her, a lot of things were making much more sense.

Suddenly, the car sounds dented my subconsciousness. "Where the hell are you?"

"In the car."

"Obviously. Are you meeting with Asher without me?"

"No. I did make nice with his wife's very sweet friend, Gabby, at the café. Which is why I now I have Asher's contact information, if you must know."

"What? You charmed it out of her?"

"No. I advised her that I had a business opportunity if he was interested."

I snorted as I slid out of the bed and hiked my jeans on. Since Rita had stolen my shirt, I headed down the stairs without it. It was cooler than yesterday, but not by much. The scent of toast and bacon made my stomach growl.

"Was that bacon I hear?"

"How the hell can you hear that through the phone?"

"Because it's my favorite thing. I'm on my way."

"I'm not at my parents' house."

He was silent for a beat. "And just might where you be?"

I sighed. "Remember where my brother lives?"

"Yeah."

"You'll see signs for Vista Cottage."

Because my best friend was very smart, it took him a second to read between the lines. "Are you at the fair Rita's cottage?"

"Maybe." I padded across the kitchen to snake an arm around her to filch a piece of bacon from the plate.

"I'm still coming over. And you're feeding me."

"You were just at Macy's place. I'm sure you've been fed." I kissed Rita's neck and laughed when she stole the bacon back and bit into it. I murmured, "cruel woman," and took a piece of toast instead.

I spotted something big and dark out of the corner of my eye and went to the sliding door to let Rita's ever-present guest in. I ruffled his ears and then padded outside to my car. My messenger bag was in the backseat. At least I could get a little work done before Larsen gate-crashed.

"Bacon trumps all. Be there in ten." Then he clicked off.

I shoved my phone in my pocket and went back inside. Bruce was sitting pretty in front of Rita, and she was bending down to give his big head a kiss. The sun kissed her lemon-blond hair, and the rightness of this moment knocked me back a step.

I could picture this happening every morning—or at least on the occasional Sunday.

Something I never thought would be possible in my life.

It had been work and more work with a side of schmoozing parties with Larsen when I absolutely needed to. For a guy who lived in the city, I definitely acted more like the small-town guy I used to be these days.

"Larsen is stopping by."

She looked up at me and Bruce took that moment to lick her face. She wrinkled her nose in that cute way she had—the one I didn't see all that often. And damn, I had to stop myself from striding across the room to haul her into my arms again.

I was so fucking gone for her.

When the hell had that happened?

"Well, I guess I need to go get dressed." She reached over to turn the oven on. "Keep cooking the bacon, and I'll be back in a second."

I snagged her around the waist before she could get by me. "I like you in my shirt."

"Think you need your shirt back." She whipped it off and threw it in my face.

I pulled it down, but before I could react, she was sprinting for the stairs absolutely naked.

"Goddammit, Duchess, are you trying to give me a heart attack?"

Her laughter floated down the stairs, and I was grinning like a fool as I went back to the frying pan that was still popping and spitting. I pulled my shirt on against bacon spatter and cooked the rest of the package.

I rummaged through the cupboards and found a handy box of pancake mix.

By the time Larsen knocked on the sliding glass door, I had found a griddle and made a mess on the kitchen island.

"Come in!" I called out.

Bruce lumbered to his feet as Larsen waltzed through. "Oh, shit. Why do you have a grizzly bear in your house?"

"Larsen, meet Bruce."

Bruce padded over to him and shoved his big head against his hip.

"He won't hurt you," I said as I dumped the mix into a bowl.

Larsen lightly patted his head, then the massive dog decided he liked him and gave him the hard lean. Larsen staggered then caught himself. A moment later, he crouched down to give him a good rub. "Reminds me of those big dogs I used to see in the hills at home. Pyrenees, maybe?"

"Yeah, Great Pyrenees. Great guard dogs."

Larsen grinned up at me. "You know the oddest information."

"Insomnia makes for good reading time. Hope you brought your appetite."

"Where's the missus?"

"Shut up. Don't be an ass."

He stood, giving the dog one more scratch. "You're the one playing house with a woman."

"The woman has a name."

We both looked up to find Rita on the stairs. She must have taken a shower while upstairs. Her hair was damp around her face. She had on a cropped white T-shirt with a ripped collar that slipped off one shoulder. A hot pink tank showed that matched hot pink cropped pants with daisies stitched around the pockets. As usual, her feet were bare.

"Hello, Miss Rita. Nice to see you again."

"Think your accent and manners makes up for that comment?"

Larsen had the good grace to flush. "Yes."

She patted his arm. "You're right. Nice to see you too, Larsen. I hear you're a bacon fan."

"Who isn't?" He followed her to the kitchen island.

"What have you done to my kitchen?"

I shrugged. "I was hungry."

She shook her head. "Go. I'll handle this. I'm assuming you two need to discuss something?"

Larsen shrugged. "I'm really here for the bacon." He snagged one from the paper towels beside the frying pan. "But I suppose we could discuss strategies."

She shooed us. "Take Bruce outside so he doesn't sneak food."

I hooked a finger through the dog's collar. "C'mon, big guy."

"Grab plates and silverware, Larsen."

"Yes ma'am." He made a snappy salute and took the pile on the counter with him as he followed me out the door.

There was a patio set outside, and we both set the table as Bruce found himself a sunny spot to plop down on the grass.

"Did you already call Asher?" I asked as I set around cups.

Larsen made a ridiculously unnecessary folded bird out of the napkins and set one in the center of each plate.

"Kiss ass," I muttered.

Larsen waggled his eyebrows. "I left a message with his secretary, but she said he'd be at the paper today for a school career day thing. Figured we might be able to ambush him and see the printing operation."

"You're a sneaky bastard. And I love you for it." I grabbed his face and kissed his cheek just as Rita came out with a platter of food.

"Am I interrupting?"

I took the platter and handed it off to Larsen, then I picked her up and spun her around. She gripped my shoulders with a surprised squeak. "We have an actual plan. Kind of." I set her down and dropped a kiss on her shocked mouth.

"Kind of a plan is more like it," Larsen said as he put the platter in the middle of the table. "I'll go get drinks."

"I left a carafe of juice on the island," Rita called after him. She rested her hands on my chest. "What's going on?"

"Remember how I said there's some things about Duality Press that are driving me to drink?"

She laughed, then she patted my cheek before stepping away from me to sit down. "I do."

"One of them is printing."

"Kind of important." She served up a pancake and bacon with a scoop of scrambled eggs.

"Hey, thought I said over easy." I kissed her cheek and sat next to her.

"Do you want white slime by the time we sit down?"

I sighed. "True." I took the serving spoon from her. "I'll survive."

Larsen came back with a carafe, salt, and pepper, as well as something that looked like tabasco sauce, only far more intense.

"Oh, thanks." Rita snagged the bottle.

"You're a hot tamale?" Larsen asked. "I think I saw that on that wing show that flays your mouth off."

She grinned. "Hotter, the better." She dashed it on her eggs and picked up her fork. "Should have told me you wanted to talk to Asher. He's doing the calendar for us. I know him."

Larsen gave me a put-out face.

"I didn't realize that." My shoulders slumped.

She popped a piece of bacon in her mouth. "While you were sleeping the morning away, I talked to my agent. Since the news of Jenelle's deal, I decided to ask Asher to swap my last book for Date with Disaster . It's not exactly the runaway hit that the other book was, but it did make a few bestseller lists."

My eyebrows shot up and I paused with my fork at my mouth. "Damn, Duchess."

She shrugged. "She wants to play hardball. I'll play hardball. It's time I took control of my career instead of trying to play nice." She waved a piece of toast. "I have a meeting with Asher this afternoon if you want to come with."

"We do," Larsen and I said in unison.

"Now that actually sounds like a plan." She took a sip from her juice.

Damn, how was I not supposed to fall in love with this woman?