Anything but Love (20 page)

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Authors: Beth Ciotta

Tags: #love_contemporary

BOOK: Anything but Love
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“There’s a shallow answer and a deep answer,” she said. “Which do you want?”
Luke flexed his hands on the wheel as he pulled into the parking lot of the inn. “Both.”
Rae shifted in her seat. “Shallow answer: You’re hot. Your body. Your face. Although I’m sure you’ve heard that a thousand times.”
“First time I’ve heard it from you.” First time he’d taken the compliment to heart. “What’s the deep answer?”
“You’re the kindest man I’ve ever known.”
He was afraid of that. Chest tight, Luke keyed off the ignition. “Now that’s troubling.”
“Why?”
“Because it means you mostly have been exposed to a lot of dickheads. Excuse my language.”
She didn’t elaborate or counter. She dodged. “Why are you attracted to me?”
“Shallow answer or deep?”
“Both.”
“You’re hot. Your face, your body.”
“I’ve heard that before. I don’t care. What else?”
He reached over and palmed her cheek. “You move me.”
She blinked.
“You touch my heart like no woman I’ve ever known. As Rachel. As Rae. You inspire me to be a better man.”
“I’m not sure that’s possible.”
“Trust me, it is.” Her faith in him stoked his already burning lust. He’d been hot for Rae all night. Most especially from the moment she’d challenged Nash on the importance of a college education. Not that Luke fully agreed with her viewpoint, but it was impossible not to respect her opinion. Every time she got hopped up on kids and education, he got a freaking hard-on.
He cupped the back of her neck and pulled her in for a kiss. His pulse went into overdrive the moment their lips met. She tasted like the lemon cake they’d had for dessert. He’d loved that she’d had two slices. He wasn’t sure if it was because she was eating for two or because she enjoyed sweets as much as him. He didn’t care. He liked her curves. The feel of her, the look of her. Sexy. Classy. He suckled her tongue, feasted on her lush lips. Slow. Deep. He couldn’t remember when he’d been so keen on kissing.
His Android went off and he ignored it. The damn thing started ringing again almost as soon as it had gone to voice mail.
Rae eased away, her eyes glazed, her lips puffy. “Must be important,” she rasped.
He wanted to take her—here, now—in the front seat of his car.
Classy, Monroe.
Groaning, Luke glanced at the profile pic of the caller. “It’s Jayce.” Since Rae had already retreated to her side, he took the damn call. “This better be good.”
“Rocky got a call from your mom. Your dad’s had a setback. He needs to go in for important testing but he refused because it interferes with our wedding date. I sent Rocky up to pack. The only way to reason with your dad is one-on-one. We’re flying down to Florida tomorrow. I told Dev. I’m telling you.”
“I’ll book a flight.”
“That’s what Dev said.”
Luke disconnected then looked across the moonlit car at Rae. “Something’s up with my dad. I need to fly to Florida tomorrow. Dev and Rocky are going, too.”
“How bad is it?”
“I don’t know. Jayce called it a setback. The thing is my dad was going to postpone a crucial test because it clashed with Rocky’s wedding date.”
“Sweet, but foolish.”
“I swear Dad thinks he’s Superman. Who messes with frickin’ cancer?”
Rae reached over and grasped his hand. “Is there anything I can do?”
“Come with me.”
“Why?”
Luke faltered. He couldn’t think of anything beyond not wanting to leave her behind. Which in essence meant he didn’t trust her to take care of herself. Instinctively he knew she wouldn’t appreciate that stance.
“You need to focus on your dad and mom, Luke. I’d just be in the way. Fly south, be with your family. Meanwhile I’ll wage some battles of my own.”
“Such as?”
“Tomorrow, I’ve set up a call with our editor at Highlife Publishing regarding the CL book deal. Later, I have a meeting at the bank regarding ownership of Sugar Tots. Also I thought, well, maybe I should look for a long-term rental. I’ve only been in this suite for three days and I’m already longing for my own kitchen. Tonight made me realize how much I miss cooking, and especially baking.”
Luke had a vivid vision of Rae, barefoot, pregnant, and baking cupcakes in
his
kitchen. A week ago the thought of any woman in that condition going all domestic in his home would have sent Luke running for the hills. He kissed the back of Rae’s hand. “I’ll walk you to your room.
“You don’t have to.”
“I want to.”
* * *
Rae’s brain churned like mad during the walk from the icy parking lot to her fourth-floor suite. Today had been close to perfect.
Luke had made sweet love to her, he’d asked her to be his girl, he’d included her in his family’s traditional weekly dinner. Her random anxiety attacks aside, she’d started to believe they were a real couple with a real future. Especially when he held her hand or when they kissed. He’d kissed her a lot today. He’d kissed her in front of his family. A sweet brush to her cheek. Still.
She’d practically floated through the latter half of dinner. There’d been thirteen of them in all, fourteen if you counted the furry guy, Brewster. Daisy and Vince, Dev and Chloe, Jayce and Rocky, Monica and Leo, Daisy’s sister Rose and her husband Spike, Luke and Rae, and Nash, who didn’t seem to care a whit about being the only loner.
Rae had found herself sucked into animated discussions and debates and a bit of town gossip. She’d smiled more in that hour at the lively dining room table than she’d smiled in ages. She’d laughed, too. She couldn’t believe Luke had actually asked her if she’d had a good time. Did he think she’d faked it to be polite? At one point she’d pinched herself. Somewhere around when dessert had been served, a split second where she’d felt so comfortable, she felt like one of them. The family she’d always dreamed of. The kind of family featured in Hallmark movies.
Not one dinner
ever
with her own “family” could compare. Conversation hadn’t revolved around one person—Olivia. It had involved everyone, including Rae. It was the exact atmosphere she wanted for her child and now, more than ever, she wanted things to work out between her and Luke. Rae wanted it so bad, surely something would spoil it.
That phone call about Luke’s dad had reminded her that life has a way of kicking you around. There was never one challenge in a day, but many. Tomorrow Luke would be miles away dealing with a family crisis. He’d have to leave the Shack in someone else’s care. He’d probably worry about his staff and patrons and general business the entire time he was away. One thing she admired about Luke was how hard he worked and how much time and care he put into making the Sugar Shack one of Sugar Creek’s hot spots.
While Luke was juggling balls and hashing things out with his dad, Rae would be tackling important business matters and pushing herself past deeply ingrained personal issues—like her intense dislike of superficial attention. Tomorrow marked the return to reality. In her mind, she heard the first rip of her and Luke being torn apart. It made her ache all the more to prolong the illusion of this day.
Heart racing, Rae slid her key card into the locking mechanism.
Click
. “I suppose you need to get home to pack.”
“I can throw a few things into a duffle tomorrow.”
“You’ll need to talk to Anna or someone about maintaining the Shack.”
“I can call later tonight.”
With the door partially cracked opened, Rae turned. “Would you like to come inside?” She yanked him in by his jacket collar before he had a chance to answer. They kissed with the same intensity of the kiss that had launched the fated shag against the wall, peeling off their coats, their scarves, without breaking contact.
Rae came up for air. “I thought about this, you, all day.”
“Same here.”
“Why are we wearing so many layers?” she asked as they continued to peel away clothing.
“Ten below out there with the windchill factor.”
“Hot as hell in here with the horny factor.”
Luke smiled at that. “Come here.” He swept her off her feet, whisked her across the room, and gently tossed her on the bed.
“I’m going to miss you,” she said as he unlaced her boots.
“I’ll have to give you something to look forward to for when I get back. A sampling of things to come.”
“Like what?”
“Like this.” After peeling off her jeans, he flipped her over on her stomach.
She expected an erotic entry from behind, she was primed, but instead she felt the dizzying assault of feather-light fingertips trailing down her bare back. Tickling. Teasing. He skimmed lower, to the small of her back. Circling. Soothing. Then she felt a tug on her thong, felt the fabric sliding over her skin, down her legs, past her ankles.
Naked.
She was naked.
Luke was naked, too. Straddling her now, tracing his fingertips over her shoulders, down her arms.
“Want to see you,” she said.
“Not yet.”
He repeated his initial path down her back, over her butt. Goose bumps prickled every inch of her skin as she shivered with erotic delight. Blissful torture.
Then it got worse.
He shifted down, parted her legs, trailed his fingers over the back of her thighs then—
oh, God
—over her inner thighs. Skimming up and down. So close to the part of her that ached most to be touched. But he didn’t touch her there. Not for the next ten minutes. Or maybe it was only ten seconds. She had no concept of time, let alone rational thought. Her vocabulary had trickled down to four words.
Touch me. Take me.
Wait. That was only three words.
Then she felt him flick her nub. Once. Twice.
Rae exploded. She actually screamed into the thick comforter as Luke fingered her to a blinding orgasm.
“Ah, Reagan,” he said in a husky voice as he rolled her onto her back and rained kisses over her belly. “That was too easy.”
“Easy?” She was supposed to hold out longer? Was he mad? She was still catching her breath when she felt him push off the bed. She knew his mind. “No condom. I want to feel you. The real you.”
“I thought you’d be concerned.”
“About what?”
“I’ve been with a lot of women.”
“Oh, that.” She forced herself up on her elbows and drank her fill of his stark naked body. She ached to explore every plane, every ridge. “Are you clean?” she asked bluntly. She didn’t know how else to handle this and she wanted to move the conversation along. Actually, she didn’t want to talk at all. Especially not about the other women in his life. She knew they existed, but she didn’t want them in their bed.
“I’m clean.”
“Come here.” She reached out and grabbed Luke’s arm, yanked him down on the bed. She pushed him onto his back. “I’ll have to give you a sampling of something to look forward to for when you get back.”
“Like what?”
“Like this.” She kissed her way down his magnificent torso—every plane, every ridge. She teased him with feather-light brushes of her lips and an occasional hot flick of her tongue. She wondered if the ritual was working magic on him the way it was on her. The more she savored and dominated the greater her desire to be taken.
He groaned when she took his hard shaft in her hand, tensed as she stroked, gasped when she took him in her mouth. She didn’t have a lot of experience, but that didn’t mean she was inexperienced. She knew what to do and by Luke’s reactions she knew she was doing it right. The crazier she made him, the greater her excitement.
Then he shifted, and in a heartbeat, he had her on her back. “Keep that up,” he said, “and we’ll be done too soon. I need to be inside you, Reagan.”
She parted her legs and crooked what she hoped was a teasing smile. “Who’s stopping you?”
The tip of his shaft grazed her slick folds as he gazed into her eyes. “I think I need to spend the night.”
The man was mesmerizing, but she somehow found her voice. “Have some other things to share, samplings to hold me over until you get back?”
“Got a dozen or so tricks in my repertoire. You?”
“Not so many. But I could make some up.”
He arched one brow. “I’m definitely spending the night.”
And with that he plunged deep—the first stroke of heaven.
TWENTY-TWO
“Daddy, I’m f-f-freezing!”
Sam’s eyes flew open. Not that he saw too much. It wasn’t pitch-black in his bedroom, but it was pretty damn dark.
He instantly knew three things. His daughter was standing beside his bed, the sun was on the verge of rising, and, holy hell, it was cold.
“Da-deeee!”
“Hold on, honey.” He grabbed his Blackberry from the nightstand. Six fifty a.m. Eleven degrees. Outside anyway.
Inside?
Not that cold, but fricking cold. “Must be a problem with the heater, Mina. Let Daddy check.”
“But—”
“Go wake Ben. We’ll get a head start getting ready for school. I’ll make pancakes.”
She hugged her favorite teddy bear tight to her chest and frowned. “Don’t wanna go to school.”
“Mina—”
“Too cold.”
“Okay.” Sam had already thrown off the covers. He slept in boxers and a tee. He used to sleep in the buff, but that didn’t seem right now. Not when the kids could walk in unannounced at any hour. The privacy talk he’d given them had faded from their memories, since he didn’t have the heart to enforce it. He squinted down at his daughter. “Why are you wearing a boa?”
“The feathers keep me warm—like a bird.”
“And the sock monkey sock cap?”
“Wool keeps me warm—like a sheep.”
“Ah.” He plucked her off the floor—teddy bear and all—and onto his lap. “How about I hug you warm—like a daddy.” He squeezed his daughter tight, his heart bouncing when she giggled.

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