The Valentine's Arrangement (7 page)

Thank God, he didn’t ask to come inside when he dropped her off last night. She was walking a thin line with him and pair that with the Patron that was running through her veins and she wasn’t sure she would have woken up alone this morning—with clothing on for that matter—if he would have asked.

She patted to her bathroom, stopping every few steps to stretch out her legs. The shower was calling to her like a siren and her tight muscles flexed under her skin in anticipation of the beating water.

By the time she stepped into the shower, her bathroom had turned into a scalding sauna, the water hot enough to boil her blood. She rested her forehead against the moist tile and let the hot water pulse against her. She used this time to burrow the thought of Kale away. The water pounded on her back and trickled down her body and fuck, it felt good, she just may stay there all day.

After all the hot water was gone, Ronnie got out only sliding right back into pajamas. She put her favorite pair of baggy, grey, holey sweatpants on and slipped into a t-shirt that had exceeded its life expectancy, but she couldn’t bear to throw out. Yes, it was one of Brandon’s old shirts, but it was big and comfy and soft. It was so worn down that the cotton was basically see through it was so thin.

As she was brushing out her damp hair, her phone lit up with an incoming call.

“Hello?” she asked, sitting down on the edge of her bed.

“Finally you answer your phone. What in the world have you been doing? I’ve been calling you for like, the last hour.”

“I was taking a shower.”

“For an hour?”

“Pretty much. What do ya need, Jordan?”

“Nothing. I just wanted to make sure you got home okay,” Jordan said.

“Yeah, no thanks to Cameron,” Ronnie huffed. She didn’t really give a shit that Jordan and Cameron left without her. It wasn’t the first time she had to get her own way home from a bar, but it pissed her off a little that Cameron got that fucked up to begin with. Ronnie was all for having a good time, but there’s a line that needs to be drawn at some point, and he had passed it and was coming around for lap two.

“I’m sorry about that. He was being an idiot, running his mouth to one of the guys that tried to dance with us.”

“That’s why they threatened to call the cops?”

“Yeah, I was waiting for you by the doors of the club and you know that big guy that was wearing the green shirt? Well, he walked out and made another pass at me while Cameron was waiting in the cab. Cameron saw him and got out with guns blazing.”

“Well damn, now I’m pissed I missed that,” Ronnie said laughing, her mood shifting when she learned that the reason they left in a hurry was because Cameron was defending his woman.

Jordan laughed with her. “Yeah, it was pretty hot seeing my man go all protective and territorial, but he still didn’t get any drunken sex.”

“Look at you standing your ground. I’m so proud.”

“Yes, and it wasn’t an easy task,” she laughed. “Okay, so what I want to know is what the hell tattoo guy was doing at the club…dancing with you?” Jordan asked, changing the subject.

Ronnie rolled her eyes and fell back onto her bed. “He was stalking me. He knew I was going to be there,” she said flatly.

“Well it didn’t look like you minded all that much.” 

“Fuck you, Jordan.”

Jordan rolled with a high-pitched laugh. “Okay, so now I really know that you didn’t mind. So what, he just comes to the club and gets grabby with you and you let him? That doesn’t sound like you Ronnie, unless—”

“Unless nothing,” Ronnie interrupted.

“—unless you have already messed around with him. You have haven’t you? In the design room? I knew you were acting weird!”

“It was a mistake, and it didn’t get too far anyway,” Ronnie said, forcing herself not to let her mind go back there again.

“Why? He is gorgeous, Ronnie. I know he isn’t the typical
thug
you seem to go for. So what if he’s not tatted up from head to toe and doesn’t look like he belongs in an orange jump suit. He looks like a really nice guy, you could use one for a change.” Her voice was accusatory and dripping with repulsion. Jordan and Ronnie didn’t exactly see eye to eye when it came to their taste of men.

“I never said he wasn’t a nice guy. But you’re right, he’s a pretty boy, completely not my type, and he’s a soldier. I’m not traveling down that road again.”

“Not all soldiers are lying, cheating assholes like Brandon,” Jordan said, not even attempting to hide the venom in her voice for how she felt about Brandon.

“No shit Jordan, but soldiers are also always leaving. It doesn’t fucking matter anyway.” Ronnie pushed the words out between her teeth hoping Jordan would know not to push the subject anymore.

“Whatever you say,” Jordan said annoyed. “Well, I’m gonna get off here. Cameron is taking me out so I need to go get ready, see you tomorrow morning?”

“Yep, see you tomorrow.”

“Alright. Happy Valentine’s Day,” she said in a singsong voice.

“Fucking kill me,” Ronnie replied, rolling her eyes and shaking her head.

Jordan just laughed before she hung up the phone.

Ronnie sat up on her bed and looked around her room. She had a mound of laundry to do and it probably wouldn’t hurt to run the vacuum, but fuck it. Her kitchen was clean, as always, and thanks to the lack of male reproductive organs using her bathrooms these days, those were clean as well. She could put off laundry for another day or so. Yep, she wasn’t doing shit today.

This was the one day that Ronnie became a complete and utter shut in. She shut out the colorful outside world that was gushing with love and romance and cupid’s arrows, and she planted herself firmly in front of the TV wrapped up in her snuggie.

Ronnie was not one of those women who hated Valentine’s Day because it was so depressing and only reminded her that she was alone and that she had no one to take her out or buy her gifts or bring her flowers. No, she had never given a shit about any of that stuff to begin with. She never particularly cared about Valentine’s Day. It was never something she insisted on partaking in. But now she loathed it. It was a bunch of bullshit. It’s an excuse for women to whine and dote and bat their eyelashes for glittery gifts in the hopeful forms of diamonds. It’s an excuse for men to have an opening for sex, and all of its over killed, forced, mushy, romance is sickening. What, just because it’s a certain day that means the masks come off and men are suddenly thoughtful and romantic? Bullshit. If they weren’t the other 364 days of the year then hate to break it to ya, they weren’t sincere and they probably hated it just as much as Ronnie did. Most of the time, women were handed a proverbial gift in the form of romance that was wrapped up in a pink scented bow, tied with tape that was gonna sting like a motherfucker when you ripped it off, and then they were all upset and disappointed when it wasn’t what they expected. It was actually quite funny, and it was also something Ronnie wanted nothing to do with.

It was lunchtime and Ronnie had ordered a couple pizzas. She popped in Nightmare on Elm’s Street and grabbed a beer from the fridge. No judging, it was noon.

Ronnie propped her feet up on the leather ottoman in front of her couch exposing her freshly painted wine red toe nails and ripped open a bag of Reese’s minis. That’s another thing she hated about Valentine’s Day, the fucking candy supply disappears at an alarming rate. She had to stop at three CVS stores the other day to find one single bag. Fucking love vultures.

She was just getting into the movie, filling her mouth with peanut butter filled chocolate—now that was one thing that she liked with her chocolate—and drinking her second beer when the doorbell rang. She hopped up from the couch and went to the kitchen for her purse.

“It’s about time,” she said as she was digging through her bag for her wallet. “You were cutting it pretty close, a few more minutes and it would’ve been free! It better be hot!” she hollered, walking to the front door.

She opened the door prepared to give the pizza guy a mouth full when her jaw dropped and her heart slammed so hard against her ribs it knocked the air out of her lungs. What the fuck was he doing here?

Leaning against her door frame looking like he stepped out of an American Eagle ad was Kale. He was wearing enough damn layers to stay warm in a fucking snowstorm, but it looked surprisingly good. He had a red long sleeve shirt under a grey fleece zip up hoodie and topped off with a navy blazer. It was casual meets, shit she didn’t even know…sexy maybe? Yeah that pretty much summed it up. And that fucking lopsided grin was in place, dimple and all protruding on his scruffy face.

“It’ll be hot, I promise,” he said, taking a step into her house.

“Kale.”

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Ronnie.” He smiled at her and she wanted to curse the greater power in the world that thought it would be comical for her mind to want to slam the door in this soldier’s face yet with the single twitch of his perfectly crafted lips her hormones wanted to slam her body to his instead.

“I don’t do Valentine’s day, I told you,” she spat at him, still pissed that with every inch he took closer to her, her body betrayed even her more.

“Yeah, I remember,” he said flatly, like he didn’t care or like it didn’t matter. “I still don’t get it, though.” This time when he talked his jaw flexed with the tension of suppressing a grin.

“You don’t need to get it.”

“Humor me,” he said, finally allowing his lips to extend into that panty dropping smile, the one that was equal parts playful and determination. It made her instantly think of the way he smiled when he undressed her…

She blinked hard and snapped back to the present. “Valentine’s Day is for hopeless romantics and pathetic saps. It’s for people wanting all the proverbial hearts and flowers of love. It’s fake and it’s bullshit.”

“I disagree.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “Somehow that doesn’t surprise me.” 

“It’s a day that is dedicated to that feeling you get when you are around that special someone,” he said, taking an infinitesimal step toward her. “It’s a day you can put all the other things aside and just feel. It doesn’t have to be about flowers or jewelry or love. It can just be about two people.”

“And you think that there needs to be a specific day for that? See, it’s an excuse.”

Kale huffed out a low sensual laugh that made Ronnie’s insides shutter. “No, I don’t think there needs to be a specific day to be with someone.”

Ronnie sighed and shook her head slightly all the while standing in front of the door, blocking Kale from coming all the way inside. “What the hell do you want, Kale?” She was irritated and more than annoyed.

“You.” That was all he said before he closed the small gap of space between them, slid his hand around her neck and gently pulled her into his arms.

“Kale,” Ronnie started as his lips immediately found their way to her neck.

“Yeah?” he breathed against her skin. The warmth from his breath traveled all the way down her neck and made itself nice and cozy in the spot right between her thighs.

Ronnie pulled back from him a little, her muscles protesting—tightening as her body involuntarily hesitated. He tilted his head to the side to look at her, his blue eyes going dangerously dark. They were eyes that had the potential of blinding her in their calamitous desires, yet it was ironically beguiling—which made it even more wrong.

“We can’t—”

“Ronnie, stop thinking. Just feel.” He walked forward with her still wrapped tightly in his arms. He kicked the door shut with his foot and pulled the hem of Ronnie’s t-shirt up. Her arms involuntarily rose and he pulled her shirt off over her head before she even realized he was doing it.

“Damn, you’re beautiful,” he said, his eyes roaming over her bare breasts. Ronnie forgot she wasn’t even wearing a bra.

He pulled a hand from the small of her back and raised it to her breast, softly tracing her already taut nipple with his thumb. She resisted the need to drop her head back and arch her breasts into his hands. She wasn’t going to go there with him, she couldn’t.

But then his hand left her breast and wrapped around the back of her neck again and she instantly missed the feel of his large hand palming her flesh. Kale tilted her neck back and leaned his head down pressing his forehead to hers.

“I told you to stop thinking,” he said, and with his mouth so fucking close to hers it made it easy for her mind to finally stop thinking because it suddenly became clouded with the need to taste him. “I can tell you want this just as badly as I do. I haven’t been able to get you out of my head since I had you on that couch.”

And that was all it took for her to raise up on her tip toes and kiss him. Her lips connected with his hard and esurient. A moan vibrated against her lips from Kale’s as he pulled her body in closer to him.

Ronnie’s hands were already on the move. She slipped them up inside his hoodie and pushed it, along with the blazer, down his shoulders. He removed his hands from her body only long enough to let them drop to the floor.

What was it about this man that had her throwing caution to the wind and letting herself be swept away in the gust? It was beyond her, and at this particular moment, she didn’t care.

Her lips moved fast against his. It was as if she finally unlocked the chastity belt she had fastened around her mind. She couldn’t deny her body what it wanted any longer. She hadn’t had no strings attached sex since, well ever, and the only pleasure she has had recently came from inside her bedside drawer. Just the thought of him inside her had her dripping with need.

“Damn, Sweetheart,” Kale sighed against her lips as she slowly ran her tongue across his. He was walking her farther into the house and it dawned on her that he didn’t know where he was going but she suddenly found it extremely difficult to remove her mouth from his. She had opened up Pandora’s Box.

The doorbell rang, apparently her pizza was here—and it was late.

Kale’s eyes lifted towards the door.

“Bedroom,” she finally said, instantly bringing his attention back to her as they stumbled backwards into the living room. She nodded her head toward the hallway.