Home to Stay (15 page)

“I’m liking this moment,” he said, his breaths shorter than before. “I’m interested to see what the next one will bring.”

“Uh-uh,” Will murmured, brushing her lips back and forth across his as she shook her head. “No thinking about the future.”

With a solid tug, she pulled him down far enough to get off her toes and take his mouth the way she wanted. Full on, wet, and hungry. His lips were soft and gentle, as she’d expected, but his arms pulled her tighter, revealing how affected he truly was.

Her breasts were pressed against his massive chest, making it possible for her to feel every breath he took. She wanted to breathe him in, hold tight until they’d lost track of where one ended and the other began. With a nip of his bottom lip, he came alive.

Randy lifted her feet off the ground, turning until she was pressed against the wall of the cottage, one leg over his hip as he ground against her. Will drove her nails into his shoulders.

“I like this moment better,” she said, when Randy slid those talented lips down the side of her throat. “A lot better.”

But then he was kneading her ass, and she was grinding as hard as he was, and it had been too long. Will hovered on the brink of losing control. When Randy returned to her mouth, sucking on her tongue while grazing a thumb over her nipple, fireworks exploded behind her eyes. Holding on for everything she was worth, Will rode the wave, belatedly realizing that Randy was holding her at least three feet off the ground.

At some point she’d wrapped both legs around his waist, but she had no memory of doing so. Her arms remained clasped around his broad shoulders as she returned to Earth and caught her breath. Randy still panted but didn’t make a move to find the pleasure for himself that he’d given to her.

“Are you okay?” she asked, which seemed like a stupid question, but blood flow hadn’t fully returned to her brain yet. Of course he wasn’t okay. The man was in full erection, which was proportional to the rest of him by all indications, and in dire need of relief. Relief she’d taken for herself.

“Give me a minute,” he said, shifting her enough to lower her legs back to the floor. He leaned his elbows against the wall behind her, pinning her in place.

Not that she had any desire to move.

“I owe you an apology,” she said, toying with the damp curls at the back of his neck. “That was only supposed to be a kiss.”

Randy pulled back, wiping the sweat from his brow on his shoulder. “Trust me, you don’t ever have to apologize for something like that.”

“But you—”

He lifted one hand. “It’s been a while for me, that’s all. I’m not a monk, but I’ve been living like one for about a year now.”

“Try three years,” Will said, biting her bottom lip. Had she really admitted that? Well, it did explain her…response.

His brows shot up as he stared into her eyes, their noses mere inches apart. “Three years?”

Will nodded.

Randy gave her hip an extra squeeze before stepping back. “Then you deserved that.” After a quick peck on the lips, he took her hand and pulled her toward the sliding glass doors.

“Where are we going?” Will asked, a sliver of anticipation racing down her spine.

“I’m going to take a cold shower,” he said, letting her step through the door first, then sliding it closed behind him. “And you’re going home before we take this too far and ruin the progress we’ve made.”

Will tsked. “Who’s not living in the moment now?” Not that she didn’t agree with him. Having sex today would be a mistake. They needed to ease into this. Though her body was ready to ease into Randy’s bed.

Reaching the entryway, he snagged her jacket from a hook on the wall and threw it around her shoulders. “When your hormone levels return to normal, you’ll thank me.”

He was right, of course. Though after what had happened on the porch, she owed him big time. When they did take the final step, she’d be sure to repay the debt.

CHAPTER 15

R
andy spent his Sunday evening mentally reminding himself why he should not and would not drive over to Will’s place and finish what they’d started. Considering how he’d spent the last year, when they eventually made it to bed, he should be able to keep her there for days.

After a restless night, he’d spent a long day Monday pumping iron and dealing with a broken elliptical. The machine was in use when it broke, increasing its speed to the point that he’d had to rescue poor Mrs. Wollinski from the contraption. Thank God the woman didn’t break a hip.

He knew Will was working the evening shift at Dempsey’s. They hadn’t discussed when they’d see each other again, and Randy considered waiting until she sought him out, but in the end he realized he didn’t want to wait. Simply put, he wanted to see her.

Dempsey’s closed at nine on Mondays, at least until the season kicked into full swing, so he timed his entrance to eight forty-five. This way, he wouldn’t disturb her from the job, and they could talk while she closed the place down. Randy was more than willing to lift a few chairs if it meant watching Will’s blue eyes dance as they shared some lighthearted flirting.

As he’d hoped, the place was nearly deserted when he stepped inside.

“You’re in late,” Daisy said, sliding up beside Randy as he settled onto a bar stool. Will was nowhere in sight.

“I’m here on wedding business.” He didn’t like Will’s preference that anything between them remain a secret, but he’d agreed to the term and would honor her wishes. “Figured it would be better to catch her at the end of the night.”

Not the best story in the world, but then he had little experience with subterfuge.

“You’re helping with the wedding?” Daisy asked, brows up.

“It’s at my business so my input is kind of required.” Her shock hit him the wrong way. “But what’s so strange about me helping with a wedding?”

Daisy shrugged. “Most guys I know wouldn’t do it, that’s all.” She moved the empty bottles from her tray onto the bar. “Mitch would rather have a spike driven through his forehead than help me plan anything. I can’t even get him to pick paint colors for my living room.”

Mitch also worked at Dempsey’s, but bussers weren’t really needed until business picked up. The pretty young blonde looked so frustrated, Randy offered a suggestion.

“Threaten to paint it all pink.”

“What?” Daisy said, blinking in confusion. “I don’t want a pink living room.”

Randy turned to face her. “I didn’t say paint it pink. I said threaten to. He’ll get involved real quick after that.”

The waitress scrunched up her face, pondering his suggestion. “You really think that would work?”

He nodded. “I’m sure of it.”

Daisy’s face lit up. “Thanks, I’ll try it,” she said, dropping a kiss on Randy’s cheek before heading back to her last remaining customers.

When he turned back to the bar, Randy spotted Will leaning in the doorway to the kitchen, one brow higher than the other.

“Are you trying to cut a path through the entire Dempsey staff, or is it only Daisy and me on your radar?”

Surely she was kidding. If he’d ever intended to cut a path through the women on Anchor Island, Randy wouldn’t have gone on a voluntary drought for the last year. Nor would he dabble with a waitress fifteen years his junior.

This jealous streak of hers had him worried.

“Are you this distrusting of every male you come across, or am I just lucky?”

The twinkle returned. “Touché,” she said, pushing off the door frame. “I do have trust issues, but I was actually kidding on this one.”

“That’s good and bad,” he said, leaning back on the stool.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Well, it’s good that you aren’t really jealous of Daisy, but bad that you’re so good at schooling your face, I can’t tell when you’re kidding.”

“Ah,” she said, taking a green tea from the fridge and removing the cap. “That means I have the upper hand. I like that.” The bottle slid across mahogany in his direction. “To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?”

Will kept her eyes on the glasses she was dropping into a sink behind the bar. Her features had gone tight, her shoulders tense. Maybe they hadn’t made as much progress as he’d thought.

Randy glanced around to make sure Daisy couldn’t hear him. “I wanted to see you,” he said. No reason not to be honest.

Blue eyes darted toward the clock behind the bar. “At closing time.” She continued to avoid eye contact. “Not very smart.”

“Why not?” Randy said, not sure what the problem was. “Seemed rude to try to talk to you while you were working. This way, I can help you close up for the night and we can talk.”

“And then Daisy can spread the word tomorrow,” Will said, almost under her breath.

Before Randy could respond, the waitress returned. “Final ticket is done.” She set a tray loaded with two dinner plates, two glasses, and an empty breadbasket on the bar. “I’ll load these into the dishwasher, then start sweeping.” With a light punch on Randy’s arm, she added, “Feel free to help, big guy. These chairs aren’t going to lift themselves.”

Will’s full lips flatlined as she kept her head down, moving glasses from soapy to clear water.

“I’ll get on that in a second,” Randy said, focusing his energy on trying to read Will.

He couldn’t figure out what he’d done to piss her off. The day before they’d parted on more than friendly terms. So why did this visit make her so mad?

Daisy headed for the kitchen, and Will turned to the cash register. She tapped the screen three or four times and what must have been the closing tape starting running from a small box to the right of the keyboard.

Randy waited for her to tell him what was bothering her, but instead, she headed for the front door without so much as a glance in his direction.

Before she’d clicked the lock, he was behind her.

“Do you want to tell me what’s going on here?” he asked. “I was under the impression after yesterday afternoon that you’d be happy to see me.”

“I’m trying to make Daisy think I’m not happy to see you,” Will said, finally meeting his gaze, her face flushed. “When I said our little secret, I meant it.”

This was why he didn’t like that part of the deal. “I told her I was here about the wedding.”

“At nine o’clock at night?” Will hissed. “She’s going to wonder why you didn’t use the phone.”

She had a point. “I’m sorry. I’m not used to keeping secrets. I wanted to see you.”

Her body wilted and she leaned against the door with her arms crossed. “Then maybe this is a mistake.” Will shook her head. “I’m too much of a mess for this to work.”

“You’re a beautiful mess,” Randy said. Her eyes softened and he wanted to pat himself on the back for saying the right thing. “Breathe, gypsy. We’ll figure it out.”

Will struggled to keep her heart in her chest, but it was no use. The damn thing lay prostrate at Randy’s feet, and she feared getting it back wasn’t going to be easy.

“How are you not running the other way?” she asked. Leave it to her to find the one man who didn’t run. Or push. Or have a mean bone in his body.

Damn him.

Another step and his clean scent filled her senses. The heat of him threatened to melt her into a puddle right there on the dusty floor next to her heart.

“Maybe I like a challenge.” Randy tucked a dark curl behind her ear.

Will’s knees threatened to buckle as she found herself lost in his whiskey-brown eyes. At this rate, she wouldn’t be a challenge for much longer.

“I can’t find the dustpan again,” Daisy said, stepping out of the kitchen and sending Will and Randy jumping in opposite directions. “What the hell is wrong with you two?” she asked, hovering behind the bar with a broom in her hand. “Why are you over there at the door?”

“I was locking up,” Will said, racking her brain for some excuse for what they were doing. “I saw a spider and Randy killed it for me.”

Great. A bug in a restaurant. Could she not have come up with anything less damaging?

Daisy took the broom in both hands as if ready to defend herself against an attacker. “Is it dead? I don’t do spiders.”

“All gone,” Randy said, rocking on his heels, his eyes on the floor as if making sure their imaginary arachnid was indeed deceased.

“So do you know where the dustpan is?” Daisy asked again.

“Sometimes Chip moves it to the far side of the kitchen after he sweeps his station,” Will said. “Try over there.”

As the waitress disappeared, Will slumped again. “That was close.”

“You’re the one who made the rules.” Randy slid his hands into his pockets. “You sure we can’t be open about this? We’re consenting adults. I don’t see the problem.”

Will could almost feel Sid’s poke as she railed about Randy getting his happy ever after. She couldn’t be that for him, but without revealing why, Sid would never understand. As badass as the mechanic pretended to be, she had a soft heart and loved her brother more than anything.

“No,” Will said. “Nothing has changed. At least not on that front.”

“Then maybe we should start on the chairs. I need something to do with my hands or our secret will be out the minute Daisy returns.”

Will knew what she wanted to do with
her
hands. “The chairs. Good idea.”

Thanks to Randy, the closing routine took half the normal time. Daisy was happy to get out early, and Will was able to relax once the waitress had driven away, since that meant no more pretending there was nothing between her and the big man working by her side.

Will spun the key in the lock, tugged on the restaurant door to make sure it was secure, then turned to find Randy looming in the dark on the top step.

“Thanks for helping,” she said, shuffling from foot to foot. “I think you made Daisy’s night by getting her out of here quicker.”

“My pleasure,” Randy replied, his voice carrying softly on the breeze. “Want to sit out here for a while?” He gestured toward a bench on the porch.

“I can do that.”

They dropped onto the bench, Randy waiting for Will to sit before lowering onto the seat beside her. He didn’t seem as imposing tonight. Maybe she was getting used to the size of him. Used to being with him and not feeling as if something bad was going to happen. Part of her argued that feeling safer with him around was worse than the fear.

But the other part, the part that liked being near him, ignored the warning.

“Sorry about earlier,” she said, watching a moth dart around the streetlight at the edge of the parking lot. Will understood how the moth felt, drawn to something that could do it harm. “I really do have a good reason for acting the way I do. It’s hard to explain.”

“If my guess is right,” Randy said, “you’ve been in survival mode for a while now. Being suspicious is part of that.” He laid an arm across the back of the bench, turning his body toward hers. “But you’re still here. That’s a good sign.”

His face was hard to make out in the low light, but she caught a glimpse of white teeth and could imagine the grin that accompanied it.

“Does anything ever bother you?” she asked, truly curious. “I’ve never met anyone so mild-mannered.”

“Well,” he said, followed by a long sigh. “When I think about another man hurting you, I want to find him and break both his legs. So that bothers me.”

Will held her breath. “How do you know a man hurt me?”

Randy leaned close, the hand behind her toying with a loose lock of her hair. “For months, I watched fear fill your eyes whenever I was around. With Joe or Lucas or even Tom, you’re relaxed. But not with me.”

With a lump in her throat, Will whispered, “I’m sorry about that.”

“No apology needed. It took me a while to realize it wasn’t about me.” He lifted her chin until her eyes met his. “Then last weekend, when we talked outside the restaurant, I knew.”

The truth swirled at the end of Will’s tongue, choking her with the need to blurt out everything. The need to share the burden of what had happened to her. Of what could happen again if Jeffrey found her.

But emotion drowned out the words, and tears flooded her vision. For the first time in more than three years, Will felt safe. As the first tear fell, Randy pulled her into his arms, holding her as she sobbed into his neck. Rocking her back and forth, rubbing her back, whispering reassuring words against her hair.

The crying jag lasted several minutes and left Randy’s collar a sopping mess. As she slipped into the hiccup phase, Will reached into her purse for a travel package of tissues. It was bad enough that she’d soaked his shirt; using it as a snot rag was out of the question.

He gave her space to clean herself up but didn’t completely let go. A mixture of relief and mortification made it hard to meet his gaze. “How could you not think I’m insane at this point?” she asked, followed by a hiccup that jerked her body.

“Fear can do crazy things to a person,” Randy said. “That doesn’t mean
you’re
crazy.”

Will sniffed while dabbing at her eyes. “You probably won’t believe this, but I’m actually a very even-keeled person.”

“You’ll get back there again.” With a squeeze of her shoulder, he asked, “Which shift are you working tomorrow?”