Authors: Fiona Lowe
Her mother shuddered. “You never have before and I don’t think you’re wired that way. Are you sure everything’s okay?”
“Yes! Why do you keep asking me that?”
Her mother’s lips firmed into a thin line. “Because right now you sound just like your sisters did when they were seventeen.”
“When I was seventeen don’t you mean?”
Lisa shook her head. “No. You never sounded like that. You never rebelled or caused us a moment’s grief. You worked hard at school, you got good grades and we were so proud of you the day you called us up with your bar exams results. Do you remember what you said?”
So very clearly.
“I’m the first lawyer in the history of the Sagar family.”
“And now you’re on track to being a department head. Daddy’s not above bragging about you at the plant, you know,” she said, smiling widely. “You’ve done what he and I only ever dreamed about.”
The words turned like a knife in her chest. Her parents had never had a college education—they’d been too busy working hard and putting food on the table for their young family and pouring their hopes and dreams into their daughters.
And I just lost it all with one stupid mistake.
“Talking about work, I need to start so we can take that hike this afternoon. Have a fun time on the lake.” She kissed her mom and left the room.
* * *
Melissa cringed as she hit yet another wrong note on the simple tune that Scott had given her.
Stupid piano.
It was their second lesson and this time Scott had come over to her house because Melissa felt far too intimidated playing the grand in the rehearsal room. For some reason, Scott hadn’t offered his place even though she knew he taught kids there. She readjusted her hands and started over but came undone again in the seventh bar just as she always did. Frustrated, she glanced up and met his steady gaze. “Before you say anything at all, yes, damn it, I did practice.”
“I know you did,” he said quietly, his hazel eyes free of judgment.
Surprise rocked her. She wasn’t expecting him to have believed her given the mess she was making with “Greensleeves.” “How do you know I practiced?”
“Because you’re trying too hard.”
“Too hard? How can I be trying too hard? I thought that was the point!” She banged her hands against the keys in frustration, the music lessons of the past resurfacing to haunt her.
He passed her a glass of water that he’d asked for earlier but hadn’t drunk. “Take a sip and then some deep breaths.”
“I don’t need a drink.”
“Yeah, you do.” The glass hovered between them, his long fingers wrapped around it.
With a sigh, she accepted the drink and took a few sips.
“Now the breathing.”
“I am breathing,” she said tartly. “If I wasn’t I’d be dead.”
He laughed and the sound washed over her, calling her to join him but she fought it. “I’m glad I’m entertaining you.”
“Always, but that’s immaterial. Why do you want to learn the piano, Melissa?”
Because you teach it.
That is so not the reason.
Come on
,
it’s one reason.
“Why does anyone want to?”
“For as many people who learn an instrument, you’ll find as many different reasons.”
“That’s very Zen.”
He gave a wistful smile. “Oh yeah, that’s me, totally Zen. But we’re back to you. You said you wanted piano lessons, so why do you want them?”
She chewed her lip.
“There’s no right or wrong answer, Melissa.”
Yet even in her head it sounded cliché but she sensed he wasn’t going to give up so she told him. “I want to be able to play Pachelbel’s ‘Canon in D.’”
“Great,” he said, sounding like he meant it. “You’ve got a goal and we’ll work toward you learning a simplified version sooner rather than a more complicated one later.”
She thought about her requests to piano teachers of her childhood, which had always fallen on deaf ears. “You’ll really do that?”
He looked taken aback. “Melissa, the teacher-student relationship is a team.”
This time she laughed. “Since when? All I remember is subservience and dominance.”
His eyes darkened for a moment and she suddenly felt very hot and very aware of him sitting so close to her. The brush of his jeans felt like the lick of flames.
“Some piano teachers have a lot to answer for,” he said, clearing his throat, “which is why you’re tense, forgetting to breathe and letting your head get in the way of your hands. Can I put my hands on your shoulders to demonstrate something?”
“Um, okay.”
He stood up and then she felt his palms come to rest passively on her shoulders, his heat easily passing through the silk of her shell. Instinctively, her shoulders rose up to meet them.
Not
a good idea. But it had been too long since a man had touched her and it appeared her body was seizing control.
“Now take in a deep breath and then blow it all the way out.”
She did as she was instructed and as her breath rolled out of her, her shoulders drooped and the pressure of his hands lessened.
No.
Her body did a pouty sob.
“That’s the way.” His finger and thumbs started moving in a circular motion across her shoulders—digging and rolling into muscle and easing tendon over bone.
“Oh,” she breathed out, her head automatically tilting back, “that feels absolutely amazing.” Suddenly she was looking straight up into his face.
A current arced between them, lighting up his eyes and stripping her body of its strength in the most delicious way possible. Slowly, his head lowered, dropping down toward her and closing the gap in what seemed like a time-delay sequence.
He was going to kiss her.
Oh
,
yes
,
please.
She didn’t care that he wasn’t list material. She just wanted the touch of a man. Once. To slake a craving that had surfaced after months of no sex.
He quickly pulled back and then his hands dropped away.
“Now try playing,” he said huskily.
Good grief.
Her body was panting for his and she couldn’t even see straight let alone read music, and he wanted her to play?
This time as she laid her fingers on the cool keys, she automatically blew out a breath. The metronome clicked out the rhythm and she closed her eyes for a moment, letting the sound take hold of her. She started to play. Her right hand established the simple tune, her fingers dancing on the keys as her left hand entered, building the melody. The music swelled as her hands worked as a team, answering each other in musical conversation. Before she knew it, she’d read the final bar and come to the end of the piece.
She turned to Scott, stunned. “I can’t believe it. I got past bar seven. I’ve never got past bar seven.”
He grinned at her, delight and pleasure on his face. “Good for you.”
“Good? It’s a freakin’ miracle.” Joy bounced through her and she leaned her shoulder against his, giving him a gentle bump. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
He bumped her back and then she was staring into his eyes, which burned for her behind his glasses.
She leaned forward, wanting him to kiss her just like he’d been about to do five minutes earlier before he’d pulled back.
Teacher ethics?
The look in his eyes had definitely been one of need. Well, she’d never been slow in asking for what she wanted. “I think I want to kiss you.”
“Go right ahead, as long as you’re not going to regret it later and give up lessons.”
“I have a funny feeling it’s going to improve my piano.”
His eyes twinkled. “Who am I to stand in the way of that?”
Her hands pulled his head down and she kissed him. He was warm and solid under her palms and the stubble on his top lip prickled against her mouth. He tasted like Christmas candy—fresh and sweet but with a musky undertone that was all male.
Oh, how she’d missed this.
She sighed as his hands tightened around her waist and he returned the kiss, exploring her mouth exactly how she liked it with a balance of delicacy and control. With each flick of his tongue, her body craved him just that little bit more until she was a heaving mess of need.
Who would have thought a bespectacled and serious musician could kiss like this? But, oh, could he kiss, which led directly to the supposition of if he could kiss like this, he was probably amazing in bed.
He pulled back and she had to swallow a moan. She opened her eyes to see his serious gaze fixed firmly on her.
“Where are we going with this, Melissa? Are we stopping at kissing?”
Please
,
no.
“What’s your stance on casual sex?”
He pulled her to her feet, his fingers playing with the hem of her silk shell. “Define casual.”
Her fingers started undoing his belt. “Consenting sex between two adults when they both want it.”
“No dating, no expectations.” He lifted her shell over her head and undid her bra.
“Definitely no relationship. Just sex.” She freed him from his jeans, loving the sound of his groan as her hand closed around him. Oh how she’d missed this.
“Piano lessons and sex,” he said, reaching for her nipples and tweaking them with just the right about of pressure.
Spots danced in front of her eyes as she went wet with need. “Sex and piano lessons.”
“Deal,” he said, pulling her against him and kissing her until she was barely able to stand.
“I’ve got condoms in my nightstand.”
“Thank God.”
Still kissing him, she walked them to her bedroom. Shucking each other’s pants, they finally fell onto the bed. Cushions cascaded onto them.
“What the hell?” Scott started pitching cushions and pillows off the bed. “I never get the point of this. You throw ’em on the floor and then you put ’em back so you can throw them on the floor again?”
She laughed. “They’re pretty.”
“They’re in the way.” He whipped back the covers.
“So next time we go utilitarian at your house.”
He stilled, a frown line creasing his forehead. “I guess I can deal with a few cushions.”
Before she could wonder at his changed demeanor, he’d rolled her underneath him. “Now, exactly where were we before the great cushion attack?”
“Before you started whining, you mean?” she said, reaching for him.
He slid back, just out of her reach. “Oh yeah, I remember now.” He lowered his mouth to her toes, sucking each one of them in turn.
The sweet sensations she missed for so long came rushing back. He kissed her feet and then his hands massaged and caressed them until she was trembling. “God, where did you learn to do that?”
He grinned at her. “Pianists have very strong hands.”
She remembered his shoulder rub. “So I’m coming to appreciate.”
“Appreciate this.” He lowered his mouth over her breasts and she bucked against him as deliciously painful pleasure speared through her. Every muscle twitched. Every part of her wanted him right now.
Her legs wrapped around him. “Consider yourself appreciated. Can I do some appreciating myself?”
“What did you have in mind?”
She handed him the condom.
“Now? I thought women liked foreplay?”
“We do. Mostly. Thing is, I haven’t had sex in a very long time and although the pregame entertainment is amazing, it’s not the sole reason I’m here.”
He moved his head back and forth very slowly, a smile crawling across his face. “You like things your own way, don’t you?”
“Not necessarily.” She reached up to slide his glasses off his face. “I just know what I like and what I want.”
His hand stopped hers. “I want to be able to see you come.”
How could she argue with that? “Keep talking like that and it will happen faster than you think.”
He quickly rolled the condom on and with slow thrusts he entered her inch by tantalizing inch until he filled her. Then he put his hands behind her knees and lifted her.
“Oh my, that’s it.”
“No, Missy, this is it.”
He moved against her, meeting each of her thrusts with one of his own until bone and muscle ceased to be and all that existed was blessed sensation. She shattered with a scream, her hands gripping his arms.
Panting hard, he followed a moment later. Hovering above her, he leaned down and kissed her gently before rolling to the side. “Thank you.”
She rolled to face him. “And you.”
Chapter Fourteen
Ben tossed his book aside and stared at the mounted head of a black bear in his bedroom. He immediately wondered what the Australian equivalent would be in the taxidermy circles. The native animals like wombats and Tasmanian devils were protected and farmers considered kangaroos and foxes vermin. That left fish. Although Ben was more of a catch-and-release kind of guy, he recalled a mate from university whose father had a huge marlin mounted on the wall of his bar.
He picked up his phone and texted Amy.
Am feeling in need of protection from bears.
Come rescue me.
Since her parents had arrived, Amy had been like a cat on a hot tin roof and he’d hardly seen her. The dinner on the first night would have been excruciating if Al and Ella hadn’t been there to tell entertaining stories about Whitetail and genially squabble over inconsequential details.
Amy had taken to getting up really early to work, and this morning Ben had met her coming back from a jog just as he was heading out. Between locking herself in the office and doing things with her folks, and his work at the garage, he hadn’t seen much of her the past two days. He glanced at his phone, willing it to beep with a return text. It was silent.
He’d get up and go find her except he wasn’t certain if Todd and Lisa were in the house. Although he and Amy were adults and had been for years, Todd still saw Amy as his little girl and Ben could do without the,
what are your intentions
,
son?
glare, especially as his intentions involved getting his daughter naked as soon as possible.
Still the phone didn’t beep and he couldn’t deny the disappointment that floated through him. He knew she didn’t have a heap of sexual experience but she’d been willing to try new things with him the other day when they’d had sex and he’d needed her to be on top. He’d thought she’d be quick to get into the spirit of a bit of text flirting.
He tried again, keeping on with the theme of bears.
I’m bear-chested for your convenience.
He wasn’t, but now that he could manage to undress himself, he’d happily divest all of his clothes for her the moment she walked in the door. Or let her undress him if she’d prefer. He glanced at the clock. Ten-thirty p.m. Surely, her parents had gone to bed? Todd had been yawning at dinner after a day out on the lake not catching fish.
Perhaps words weren’t enough. Feeling slightly stupid—but then again being horny could do that to a guy—he pulled off his shirt, put one arm up behind his head and took a photo of himself while trying to silence the voice that said,
douche bag.
As he attached it to the text he typed,
Your wardrobe could do with updating.
Come try me on.
He pressed Send.
Forty seconds later, he heard rapid footsteps and then thankfully, his door flew open and Amy stepped in.
She quickly shut the door behind her and turned to face him, her cheeks bright red. “What are you doing?”
Her hair looked as if she’d been electrocuted and there was something about the crazy look in her eyes that made him think that the redness wasn’t only due to her usual tendency to blush whenever he flirted with her.
He swung his legs off the bed and reached out his arm. “Getting you here.”
She held up her phone. “You could have just said,
I
need to see you.
”
“Well, yeah, I
could
have.” He grinned at her. “But where’s the fun in that?”
“Fun?” She started frantically deleting his texts from her phone, her fingers jabbing wildly at the touch screen. “What if my parents saw this? What if I lost my phone and people saw stuff like this on it?”
“They’d think isn’t Amy Sagar lucky.” He wrapped his arm around her leaned in to kiss her.
She planted her palms against his chest, her face now pale under the red hot spots. “Ben, please don’t sext me again.”
He stared down at her wondering why she was acting so crazy about this. “It was hardly sexting. I was dressed and making bad bear puns.”
“Please.” She bit her lip. “It makes me feel really uncomfortable.”
He sighed, hearing her plea but not understanding why. She’d been so open to ideas when she was naked but now was freaking out over some innocuous texts. “Okay, but can we at least come up with a text code for
let’s have sex?
”
“What about,
let’s work out together?
”
“Oh, right, and like that’s not open to interpretation? Why not just say buy zucchinis, cherries or melons?”
She hit him playfully on his left shoulder. “Let’s leave fruit and vegetables out of it, shall we?”
“I don’t know. I told you eating healthy was fun.” He ran his hand up the back of her neck, burying his fingers in her thick tumble of hair, loving the feel of her against him. “Would
call me
suit your sensibilities, Ms. Sagar?”
Gratefulness filled her gray eyes and she rose up on her toes and kissed him. “Thank you.”
“No worries.” He lay back on the bed, bringing her with him and slinging his good arm around her so she had little choice but to snuggle into him. “So how are you holding up?”
Her entire body slumped. “I can’t believe my parents are planning on staying the whole week or longer. Thank goodness they haven’t thought to invite my sisters up.”
The thought of even more Sagars in the house distracting Amy made his gut churn. “Exactly how many sisters do you have?”
“Three.”
“I have two brothers, but I’m the youngest.”
“I’m the big sister, but they’re all married and have children.”
He kissed the top of her head. “So you’re Auntie Amy?”
“Aunt Amy, that’s me.”
He wasn’t sure if she sounded happy or just resigned. He wasn’t an uncle and his parents were probably a good ten years older than Lisa and Todd. “Your folks are pretty young to be grandparents.”
Amy sighed. “Mom was barely eighteen and just out of high school and Dad was twenty and at college when they got the...” she waggled her fingers, “...surprising news that I was on the way. Dad dropped out of school and got a job at the nut plant and they got married. Dad still works there.”
“You make that sound like a bad thing?”
She raised her head to look at him. “He lost the opportunity to become an engineer and he’s had to work under guys he’s more talented than for years. I don’t know how many times growing up my mom told me that college would change my life.” She wriggled her nose.
“What?”
“Oh, I was just thinking about one of the biggest ironies of my life was at sixteen when she insisted I start taking the contraceptive pill...” she waggled her fingers again, “...just in case. She was paranoid I’d get pregnant like she did except, unlike Mom and my sisters, I didn’t exactly have guys flocking around me. I was the geeky girl with my head always stuck in a book while Cindy, Heidi and Sally were into cheerleading and sports.”
“And obviously, you went to college.”
“I did but it was a bit like the contraception. I felt that I didn’t really have a choice.”
He stroked her cheek. “But you wanted to go, right?”
“To a place that honored books? Absolutely. I loved my liberal arts college and besides, how could I not go when Mom and Dad had scrimped and saved and gone without so we could have the opportunity they’d missed out on?”
She didn’t say,
because of me
but she didn’t have to. He suddenly had a picture of a studious and earnest teenager who wanted to please and he recognized the remnants of her in the organized yet at times confidence-battered women. He didn’t agree with her that her parents hadn’t had opportunities for education but he wasn’t about to bring that up. Families were a complicated beast.
A few days ago, he’d seen some of her discarded sketches of the wedding gown in the trash. Despite not wanting to look at them because everything to do with weddings made him break out in a cold sweat, he’d smoothed out the papers. They’d been good. “So why law and not art and design?”
Her brow furrowed as if he’d asked an unintelligent question. “I needed a career not a hobby. Most people in the creative arts don’t earn a living wage from their art. They either work two jobs, marry money or find a benefactor.”
“So you don’t miss being creative?” He stroked her back. “It’s just you seem to be having fun with this dress project.”
“Gown,” she corrected, bringing her knuckle up to her mouth before sharply pushing it away. “And no, I don’t miss it. I don’t have any time to miss it.” Her voice took on her brisk take-no-prisoners tone. “I might be between jobs just at the moment, but I’m a damn good lawyer and I’m good at what I do.”
He held up his hands in mock surrender. “Hey, I was just asking.”
She blew out a breath. “Sorry. I guess I’m finding the job hunting harder than I expected. The thing is, I’m only making Janey’s gown to keep busy and, talking about Janey, can you help me out?”
Warning lights flashed in his head. “Maybe.”
“Can you take my parents out somewhere when Janey comes for a fitting?”
He sighed. “Why not just tell them you’re between jobs and that you’re making the damn dress?”
A horrified look streaked across her face. “No way. It’s easier this way.”
“Really? Sneaking around and lying is easier?”
“Fine. Don’t help.” She pushed away.
Cool air rushed in between them, replacing her cozy heat, and disappointment rammed him so hard it hurt. Did it matter if she was keeping secrets from her parents?
Yes.
If you push this you’re not going to have sex with her again.
Call him shallow, but he wanted to have sex with her. He justified this was only vacation sex so surely he could help her out even if it went against his better judgment.
“Al mentioned a classic car and quilt event over at Hayward. If you think your mum and dad would enjoy that, I’ll play the ‘can you drive me’ card and get them out of the house that way.”
Her eyes lit up, shinning with appreciation. “They’d love it. Thank you.”
She threw her arms around his neck and he had the craziest sensation of feeling like a king. “Careful of the shoulder, Amy.”
She dropped a kiss to it. “Better?”
He grinned. “I think the other one’s feeling left out.”
“We can’t have that then.” She kissed it and then for the first time she got adventurous with him all on her own and her mouth started exploring his chest, taking a very decided trajectory downward.
Despite not wanting to, he immediately tensed and she glanced up at him, questions in her eyes.
“Am I hurting you?”
Not in the way you think.
“How about we try this?” He sat up and pulled her onto his lap and started kissing her, his tongue working her mouth the way he knew made her sigh with delight.
She instantly slackened against him and her mewl of bliss carried relief into every part of him. He gave up a vote of thanks for her sexual inexperience, knowing she’d let him lead the play. It was the only way to keep the ghosts of Lexie firmly locked away.
* * *
Melissa was in a meeting with Nicole and a prospective bride and groom but her mind kept wandering to what she and Scott had been doing in her bedroom an hour ago. The first time they’d had sex, three days ago, it had been electric. This morning, it had been even better. Who knew that sex at nine in the morning was the most amazing way to start the day? Why, up until now, had she always had sex at night?
“...don’t you agree, Melissa?”
Nicole’s voice broke into her thoughts and she realized she’d totally lost track of the conversation. “I do,” she said, pulling her concentration back to the here and now and giving thanks she and Nicole generally agreed on most things to do with weddings.
“Great,” Nicole said to the prospective bride. “Do you have any questions for either of us?”
“We’ll get back to you,” the groom said in a tone that indicated they wouldn’t be using Whitetail as their wedding destination.
“We’ll discuss it,” his fiancée said firmly as she picked up the information package Nicole and Melissa had tailored for them. “Can you hold the date for twenty-four hours?”
Melissa predicted a long argument on the drive back to Madison.
After they’d said goodbye to the couple, Nicole emptied the coffee pot and started washing up. “So, what’s up?”
Sex
,
glorious sex.
Melissa picked up the dish towel and took moment so she’d sound like her normal self. “Not much. Same old, same old. You?”
Nicole laughed. “I don’t believe you. Your body might have been in the meeting but your head sure wasn’t. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’ve met someone.”
“May I remind you that you and Erin snapped up the last two eligible men in this town,” she teased in an attempt to distract her. Nicole wouldn’t approve of the deal she had going with Scott so she didn’t plan to tell her. She played her trump card to guarantee a fast change in topic. “So how’s Max feeling about the idea of a baby brother or sister?”
Nicole gasped. “How did you work that out? We haven’t even told my parents.”
She didn’t want to admit to the fact she wanted a baby of her own so badly that she’d read a book on pregnancy because that would only make her look tragic. “You’re a coffee addict and today you passed.”
“I can’t believe the scent of coffee is making me feel sick,” Nicole moaned. “That didn’t happen with Max, but this time I have a horrible metallic taste in my mouth all of the time.”
Melissa had read about that too. She tried hard to squish the wave of jealousy that blindsided her at the confirmation that Nicole was pregnant. Her friend had experienced a crappy few years and she deserved this, but it didn’t stop the little voice deep down inside her from saying,
I
deserve it too.
“I’m so excited for you and I promise I won’t say a word until Ella Norell tells me that she heard from Mrs. Ackerman who heard from Donna that you’re expecting.”
Nicole laughed. “You left out half of the gossip chain, but thank you. Tony and I appreciate your discretion. God knows, there’s not much in a town this size.” She threw Melissa a questioning look. “I saw you dancing with Scott.”