Not Quite Forever (Not Quite series) (11 page)

“Nice, huh?”

“Cozy . . . I like it.”

“The guesthouse is even better. Has a full kitchen and not just a sink, microwave, and fridge.”

Dakota moved to the window and opened the curtains wide. “It’s so gorgeous. I have a friend in Lake Tahoe that I visit every year. Her place has a view of the lake, but nothing like this.” She cracked the widow and sucked in a deep breath through her nose. “Love the smell of pine.”

“We don’t get a lot of that in California, do we?”

Her smile was contagious. Walt moved beside her and looked out over the lake. “I know it looks inviting, but that water is cold.”

“I’m sure it feels great on a hot summer day.”

“When you’re twelve.” Walt laughed.

“Well, if I get the urge to jump in, you better come with me.”

He grasped her hand and pulled her toward the back door. A deck extended over the water to where the boats were pulled in and out of the water in the winter.

She hesitated when they reached the end of the dock. “You wouldn’t push me in fully clothed, would you?”

His grip tightened and she attempted to pull away.

“Doc!”

He had no intention of pushing her in, but liked the playful smile that had replaced the fake one she’d been wearing since the airplane.

Instead of pulling her, he moved closer and swept her into his arms. She immediately started pounding on his chest and struggling against him.

He moved quickly to the edge and pretended he was going to toss her.

Her arms placed a death grip around his neck. “Don’t you dare!” She was laughing.

“What’s the matter, Dakota? It’s just water.”

He felt the bite of her nails on his neck. “I go . . . you go.”

She squealed and closed her eyes when he lurched toward the water. “Walter!”

Instead of tossing her in, he lowered her legs to the pier, laughing.

No sooner did her feet hit wood than she swung on him, placed a hand to his chest, and shoved.

Shock registered in her eyes when he kept hold of her hand and they both lost their balance.

No matter how many times he’d willingly jumped into the lake, the shock was the same.

He came up sputtering. “Son of a bitch.”

The first words from Dakota’s mouth were, “Shit, that’s cold.”

Walt splashed her soaked face while he attempted to tread water with his clothes pulling against his efforts.

Dakota returned fire with a well-aimed splash, her teeth already chattering.

Walt swam over, pushed her head in.

She kicked away from him, came up from behind, and jumped on his back. His face was once again underwater; his lungs expanded, looking for air. This time when he surfaced, Dakota was swimming toward the shore. Once she had her footing, she turned his way, laughing. Clothes hung on her, dripping. She lifted a foot, wiggled bare toes. “I-I lost a shoe.”

Walt thought about turning around to find it, abandoned the idea nearly as quickly as it entered his head. “I’ll buy you a new pair.”

His feet touched solid ground and he hauled himself out of the water.

Dakota delivered one final splash, and before he could retaliate, she was running toward the boathouse.

He caught her when she reached the door, grasped her around the waist. She was a stunning, drowned, shivering, giggling rat.

“I’m going to get you for that,” he teased.

“You s-started it.” Her lips quivered, her eyes finally held the laughter inside her.

As water dripped into a pool by the front door, Walt crushed his lips to hers. He loved her taste, the way her arms were playfully slapping him away one minute and pulling him closer the next.

Her lips opened and her tongue mingled with his.

Walt backed her into the door, fumbled behind her, and opened it.

They stumbled inside, Dakota’s hands pulled at the shirt that stuck to his back.

He pushed her against the door. His hand ran down her waist and over her hips.

Dakota’s lips were warm even if her body shivered. “We need to get you out of these,” he said as she tugged his shirt over his head.

“One step ahead of you . . .” Her words trailed off as she kicked off her leftover shoe and ran her fingertips over his chest.

He started to harden, despite the chill left by the lake.

With cold hands, he unbuttoned her blouse and let it slide to the floor with his.

The flesh peeking from under her bra tasted divine, better than any meal, any wine. “You’re beautiful,” he murmured over her breast.

She arched into him. “When did cold water become a turn-on?” she asked.

He removed his shoes, reached to tug at his socks, which refused to let go of his feet. All the while, he kept kissing her chest, her neck.

When she wiggled out of her pants, Walt found himself staring.

She shivered. “Less looking, more doing.”

He dripped through the small boathouse, pulling her into the bedroom. When he battled with his pants, which were just as stubborn coming off wet as his socks had been, Dakota was laughing and crawling to the middle of the bed.

Walt kicked free of his pants and grabbed at her firm ass, pulling her under him. They laughed, kissed, and laughed even more. Then he found a spot between her clavicle and her neck that stopped all laughter and made her moan.

Dakota made love with her whole body, her nails sent chills over his already sensitive skin, her leg draped over his, opening for him to settle between them.

Their wet bodies dried as they rolled on the comforter. Walt wasn’t sure who removed her bra, but he lavished her breasts and ignored his rock-hard erection, which demanded attention. That was until Dakota took hold of him.

He felt the first rush as she stroked him, her thumb rolling over his tip.

She lifted her hips as he guided her panties down her thighs.

When he sought her with his hand, she lost her grip. “Don’t make me wait,” she pleaded.

Heat pushed against his hand, made him groan.

When he moved away, her leg clamped tight, her eyes found his and held.

“Condom,” he managed.

She loosened her hold and he found his pants. One pocket held his ruined cell phone. He looked at it, looked at Dakota, and tossed it across the room.

While she laughed he retrieved his wallet, unearthed a condom.

She helped him roll it on, leaned back against the pillows, and guided him close.

He kissed away her laughter and took his time when he pushed inside of her.

“Yes,” she said with a sigh, her hips welcomed him, her legs tangled with his. “Glad that cold water didn’t stop this.”

“You and me both.” He started to move and let his body claim the woman in his bed.

Her unladylike moans kept a smile on his face, kept his hands and lips moving over her as he brought on her first climax. All the tension of the day melted from her face when she came. The way she called his name made him hold back his own release to give her more.

Before her tremors receded, he grasped her hands and held them above her head, and moved faster. They made love without words, her eyes telling him she loved what he was doing.

He kissed her when she came the second time, released her hands when he emptied and collapsed on top of her.

Walt slipped away, found the comforter at the end of the bed, and pulled it on top of them.

She’d never laughed so hard while making love, didn’t know it could be so wonderful, sensual, and comical all at the same time.

With her head resting on Walt’s chest, the sun streaming in from the windows in the room, she wondered if the warmth in her chest was simply endorphins or something much more powerful.

“I didn’t plan that,” Walt said against her hair.

She giggled. “Yet you had a condom in your wallet.”

His chest moved with a quiet laugh. “OK. I hoped . . . wanted.”

“We’re both adults, attracted, and spending the weekend together. I think we both hoped and wanted.”

“I like your honesty, Dakota. So many women play games, pretend they want something they don’t or—”

“I don’t like games.” She looked into his eyes, noticed them darken, and his smile fell before he kissed her.

When they broke apart, she rested against him again. “For the record, I’ve been on the pill since high school. In case your supply of condoms ended up in the lake with my shoe.”

He laughed. “My phone is toast.”

“You started it.”

“Doesn’t work well up here anyway.”

“Trying to convince yourself it’s OK you killed your phone?”

“You killed it.”

“Good excuse to get a new one.”

He agreed with a sigh. “I hate to say this, but—”

“We should probably shower . . .” she finished his sentence.

He nodded. “Before someone comes looking for us.”

“Your parents will come down here?”

“Probably not. But when my sister and her husband get here, Brenda will be dying to meet you.”

Dakota glanced around the room, noticed their clothes everywhere. Probably not the best first impression to make.

Pushing back the blanket, she rolled out of bed, felt Walt’s eyes on her as she moved to the bathroom.

Chapter Nine

Brenda showed up while Walt was in the shower.

When Dakota opened the door, she thought she was looking at JoAnne’s younger sister. Both women had elegant lines in their faces with high cheekbones and bright eyes . . . only Brenda’s eyes had one thing in spades that JoAnne’s didn’t. Kindness.

“You must be Brenda,” Dakota said as she kicked the wet clothes from the front door, hoping Brenda didn’t notice.

Brenda looked behind her, probably searching for her brother. “Uhm, yeah . . .”

“Walt is in the shower.”

Brenda’s eyes traveled to the floor where standing water tickled Dakota’s bare toes.

“We, ah . . .
accidently
fell in the lake.”

Walt’s sister had dimples.

“I’m Dakota.”

Brenda shook her hand, laughed. “Fell?”

“I
might
have pushed him.”

They both laughed. “Knowing my brother, he probably deserved it.”

“He did.” Looked like Dakota had a friend among the Eddy family.

The sound of the water turning off caught both their attentions. “Larry suggested we wait until you both emerged, but I thought I’d catch you before you returned to the house.”

“Oh?”

“Looks like Mom has invited a few people over tonight for a preparty dinner. I wanted to warn Walt.”

“You’re staying in the guesthouse, right?”

“We are.”

“Then why don’t we join you there before going to the main house, and you can warn Walt then.”

Brenda nodded. “Sounds good. It’s nice meeting you, Dakota.”

Walt held her hand as they walked to the guesthouse. The path along the lake was edged in stone, but clear of view from the main house.

“Brenda looks a lot like your mom.”

“Don’t hold that against her,” Walt said.

“Your mom is beautiful. Cold . . . but beautiful.”

Walt didn’t seem convinced. “I warned you.”

He had . . . many times.

They reached the guesthouse and the door opened before they could knock.

Unlike with his father, Walt gave a genuine hug to his brother-in-law and held his sister in an extended hug. “I’ve missed you.”

Dakota watched the exchange and marveled at the contrast between the couple. Larry was nearly an inch shorter than Brenda, and at least twenty pounds overweight. The match was so unlikely Dakota thought she might be misreading things. That was until Walt introduced Larry as Brenda’s husband.

The two of them stood by each other’s side and Larry’s hand fell to Brenda’s hip.

“I brought an old friend,” Larry said as he left his wife’s side and moved to the kitchen.

Dakota watched as Larry removed a bottle of Crown Royal and pulled two glasses from the cupboard.

“Dear God, don’t leave me out of that!” Dakota called from the living room.

Larry lifted a brow, and grabbed an extra glass.

“Wine, hon?” Larry asked.

“Is the pope Catholic?”

Dakota laughed and Brenda cringed. “Oh, shit, you’re not Catholic . . . I mean, it’s OK if you are . . .”

“I’m not. It’s OK . . . funny.”

“Our parents have that effect on both of us.” Walt took one of the glasses filled with two fingers of whiskey and handed it to Dakota. His eyes caught hers and he winked.

Her body heated even before she tipped back the glass and let the liquor warm her throat.

“Not that I’m ungrateful,” Walt started, “but why are we having predinner drinks here?”

Brenda wore a summer dress, casual and elegant, her sandy blonde hair shoved up in a messy bun that looked sloppy but Dakota knew better.

Brenda tucked her feet under her when she sat on a sofa and sipped her wine. “Mom invited the Phelps . . . all of them, for dinner.”

From Walt’s long gulp, she knew the information wasn’t what he wanted to hear. “Lily?”

Brenda squeezed both eyes together with a nod.

“Who’s Lily?” Dakota asked.

“I took her to junior formal,” Walt told her. “As in high school.”

“Mom’s trying to help rekindle an old flame,” Brenda said with a laugh.

“Formal was a favor . . . not a flame,” Walt said. He sat on the arm of the chair beside Dakota.

“Does Lily have a thing for you?”

“God, I hope not!”

Brenda laughed. Her husband chuckled alongside her. “Lily still lives at home with her parents, moved back after college.”

Walt leaned back, played with Dakota’s hair. “Anyone else coming that I need to know about?”

“I know a few people who said they’d come, but I don’t know everyone who RSVP’d.”

Dakota listened while Brenda spouted off several names, some of which resulted in groans from Walt’s lips. “It’s so much easier in California where I don’t know anyone.”

Brenda gave him a playful shove. “You know me.”

“Not what I meant. I can’t believe Mom invited the Vanderkamps. I never even liked Jean.”

“Doesn’t mean she didn’t have a thing for you.” Brenda glanced Dakota’s way. “I hope you know what you’re getting into.”

“I’ve been warned. Walt told me his mother was trying to set him up before we boarded the plane.”

“Oh, good.”

Dakota turned to Walt, placed her hand on his thigh. “Shall I tell all these women how wonderful you are about pulling poor defenseless women into frigid water?”

His genuine smile melted inside of her. “You pushed me.”

“You pulled me . . . and you were going to toss me in.”

“I pretended to toss you in.”

She caught her lip between her teeth. “Then I’ll tell them about your tastes in dive bars.”

His scowl had an ounce of mischief. “Guilty. But some of the women Brenda just mentioned would be turned on by the dive bar idea.”

Dakota doubted that. “Perhaps I need to loan them my stun gun.”

Walt rubbed his arm, the mischief in his scowl moved south.

Dakota laughed. “Serves you right for sneaking up on me.”

“Stun gun?” Larry asked.

“Dakota zapped me with a stun gun.”

Brenda gasped.

Dakota waved her off, finished her drink. “Oh, he lived. Besides, he snuck up on me in the dark parking lot of said dive bar. A place I don’t think I’ll be returning to, by the way.”

“She hit you with a stun gun and you’re still dating her?” Larry lifted his glass. “I think you’ll fit right in, Dakota. Welcome to the family.”

Lily was stunning. Porcelain skin so smooth Dakota wondered if she spent any time in the sun. The dinner was slated for casual, but Lily Phelps wore a skintight strapless black number that went to midcalf. The woman had curves . . . and if Dakota hadn’t just sampled the talents of Walt in the boathouse bedroom, she might be concerned.

But no, Walt was by her side, supplying her with drinks and whispering in her ear.

“Was she a cheerleader in high school?”

“Buckteeth and glasses.”

Dakota sipped her drink. “Looks like she cleared those issues up.”

Walt’s grip on her waist confirmed he was with her. Then he kissed her temple. “Thanks again for being here.”

“You thank me by tossing me in the lake.”

Walt wiggled his eyebrows and Dakota’s cheeks warmed. “We’re even for the stun gun.”

She was laughing when JoAnne interrupted them. “We’re about to sit for dinner.” She placed a hand on Dakota’s arm. “I hope you don’t mind. I placed you next to Brenda this evening.” JoAnne lifted her eyes. “I had no idea our son was bringing a guest.”

Dakota was about to tell her hostess that was perfectly fine when Walt pulled her closer. “I’m sure whoever you have sitting beside me won’t mind moving.”

JoAnne blew out a long-suffering sigh and gave him an insincere smile. “You know how I feel about table arrangements, Walter.”

Dakota lifted up on her toes and kissed Walt’s cheek. “It’s OK, honey,” she said, pouring on the sugar and her normally buried Southern accent.

“It’s not OK.”

“Walter—”

“I brought a guest, Mom. Work with it or we can leave.”

Dakota stood back.

JoAnne lifted her chin, turned on her heel, and left.

Dakota turned in to Walt so only he could see her face and hear her words. “Nice going, Ace. Your mom is bound to hate me now.”

Walt pulled her back, away from the room full of Phelps and Eddys.

Once they were out of sight of his family, he pushed her against the wall. His tongue was pushing past her lips and claiming her before she could gasp.

God, he felt like heaven.

Her body heated instantly, her hips moved against him without any permission.

She wasn’t sure what brought on this sudden urge for intimacy, but Dakota didn’t want to stop it. The drink in her hand tilted and she felt liquid drip over her hand.

She placed a palm against his chest, moaned when his hips met hers and said hello, and forced him away. “Walt?”

His eyes carried a smoky quality, one that made her want to be at the boathouse and not a dinner party. “You have the most seductive voice,” he told her.

Dakota placed her free hand on his cheek and he leaned into it. “You have me all weekend, Doc.”

“Best decision ever. Don’t let my mom get to you.”

So that’s what prompted this sudden urge for intimacy. “Mom who?”

He kissed her again, soft, smooth.

A bell . . . a freakin’ bell was ringing from the other room. “Dinner.”

Dakota broke away, ran a thumb under his lower lip, wanting to see if her makeup was smeared as much as she assumed it was.

“You look fine,” Walt whispered in her ear.

They stepped around the corner and caught the attention of a scowling JoAnne and a giggling Brenda.

The Phelps were family friends. Lily was the second oldest to a brother who was already married with a kid on the way . . . then there were the twins. The boys were just past their seventeenth birthday and they certainly had a better idea of how to spend their Friday night than with a bunch of adults celebrating some
old guy’s
birthday. They huddled together and practically ignored everyone else in the room.

Tonight they were blessed with the twins, and not the pregnant mama and her hubby. They apparently lived in Texas.

Dakota sat on Walt’s left while Lily was on his right. Across from them sat Brenda and Larry, the twins on opposite sides of the table from each other, Dr. and Mrs. Eddy on each end with Mr. Phelps next to Dakota and Mrs. Phelps next to Mrs. Eddy.

The arrangement spoke volumes. The women separated by the men . . . the kids across from each other as to not place a gap in the conversation . . . and Lily by Walt’s side. A part of Dakota wanted to grab a pen and take notes. Family dynamics always lent to great plots.

The first course was served by a staff brought in for the weekend. According to Walt, there was a full-time housekeeper, but meals were often of the heat-up variety brought in once a week from a caterer.

Lily sat stiff-backed beside Walt, her attention on whatever Brenda was saying when the soup was served.

“Are you enjoying our state?” Mr. Phelps asked Dakota.

“It’s amazing. The wide-open space, the fresh air. Outside of the airport, I can’t say I’ve seen much of Colorado.”

Dr. Eddy placed a napkin on his lap and tilted his head. “Do you travel a lot?”