Winter Baby Bump & Grind (Seasons in Montana: Winter)

2. Ryan

two

Ryan

O h, I remember .

Hell, I’ve never been able to forget. Not when the memory of her in my arms haunts me night after night. Not when there’s a long string of sultry, dirty, late-night texts saved on my phone from our conversations. Not when every glimpse of a short, curvy woman with long, dark highlighted hair causes me to do double takes.

Usually, I’m met with disappointment.

But tonight? Tonight, I was rewarded with a vision.

Through the fogged-up window, I could just make out the shape of a woman bundled up in a winter coat. The sight wasn’t unusual in Wintervale, certainly not in the middle of a busy holiday period, but there was something about her movements that seemed familiar.

As I watched the figure struggle through the snow, dragging an enormous bag, my eyes fell to her shoes.

Her woefully inadequate, totally not-made-for-snow shoes, and I knew.

I just knew.

The second she wiped out on the sidewalk, I launched myself from the barstool, grabbed my coat, and abandoned my non-alcoholic cider while the guys from work protested that I hadn’t even lasted two hours with them.

But I didn’t stop.

I did what I always do—I followed my instincts and came outside to find the one and only Melissa Santos frantically stuffing the spilled contents of her luggage back inside her bag along with handfuls of snow.

Ryan, you should know better than anyone that hands alone don’t do it for me.

Pressing my tongue to my cheek, I suck in a sharp breath, hoping the frozen air quells the way my blood ignites with her words.

But, of course, it doesn’t.

This woman has always had this effect on me.

Her playful words and wide, wicked mouth entice me to do things to her and her body that I haven’t done with anyone else. Not since she left town, hollowing my heart out of my chest when she didn’t return to finish out her senior year at our university.

“Nice to see some things never change.”

“Oh, they’ve changed, alright.” She flashes a smile my way, and my cock tightens immediately. “I’m back, baby!”

I blink at her through the falling snow. “For the season?”

“For… forever, I guess.” One of her shoulders lifts as she makes one of her bras into a cup and stuffs it with the multi- colored undies. “Didn’t Kelsey tell you? I’m the new social and events manager for the Brewbirds Coffeeshop.”

She points across the street, like I don’t know where the damn coffee shop is, and a funny feeling lodges in my chest.

“You’re back… for good. And you didn’t tell me?” The words come out before I can stop them, and I immediately want to kick myself. Why the fuck does it matter? When our relationship ended years ago, I lost all claim to her, even if we eventually landed on staying “special” friends.

It doesn’t change the fact that Mel’s a free bird. She comes and goes as she pleases, swanning in and out of my texts, my life, my bed. She has for years, so why would any of that change now that she’s decided to resettle in Wintervale?

“Yeah, well, it was a surprise.” She reaches for the panties in my hands and stuffs them into her luggage. “Surprise!”

I cross my arms across my chest. “Is this a trick? Did you hit your head when you fell? Does it feel sore?”

“No, it’s true. I wanted to surprise you, and I didn’t knock my noggin,” she quips. “I landed on my ass. Mostly. So don’t worry, I’ve got plenty of cushioning there.”

I roll my lips over my teeth and clamp down. Bait. The woman’s laying out bait… but my gaze slides over her body anyway, dipping to the curve of her ample ass and the darkened wet patch that encircles it.

Goddamn.

“Are you surprised? Show me with your face.”

I lose the fight to keep my expression impassive and have to redirect my gaze to the way the snow clings to her hair and shoulders.

“So, you’re back and… walking to Kelsey’s? Where’s your car?”

“Car’s in front of the station on the edge of town. Ran out of gas, but I’ll take care of it in the morning.” She glances away from me and tries to close her bag, but it’s so full that the edges aren’t even close to touching. “But I’m not staying with my Big Sis. I got my own place.”

“Yeah? Where you staying?”

“Well, funny story.” Her hands fumble around for the zipper, then she peers closer at it. “I rented this cute place a couple of blocks away. It’s meant to have this whirlpool tub, you know, for soaking in after a long day? Anyway, I wired all this money over to secure it, and—”

I stroke my stubble and groan. “No, Mel, you didn’t.”

“And it just isn’t there. There is no 17B Maple Street, and there are no vacancies at the Evergreen Inn. I tried calling Kelsey, but my phone died, so I came here to call—”

“Me,” I interject, motioning for her to stand up. “You were going to call me, right? Your long-time friend Ryan, who you make a point to visit every time you’re in town.”

“Well, actually—”

I pull her from her seated position on the case and gather up the busted case.

Her dark eyes go round. “What are you doing? It’s not even zipped.”

“Zip’s busted. Won’t close. You planning on carrying this across town to Kelsey’s?”

“Uh. Well, no.”

“Sasha’s?”

“Sasha took a job in California almost a year ago. Don’t you keep up with the old crew at all?”

“Just you.”

Her lips curl upward at that admission.

“And Obie.”

“Your Lil' Bro doesn’t count. That’s just par for the course.”

“So, who were you going to call?”

“Ghostbusters.”

I snort and roll my eyes.

“Come on. You’re staying with me. We’ll figure out the rest.”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that. I’m a grown-up now, Ry. I can take care of myself.”

“I’m not questioning that. But it’s late and you’ve come a long way. You really want to wake folks up to make arrangements when I’m offering you a solution right here, right now?”

“Well, I…”

“I have one of those whirlpool tubs.”

“Oh, why didn’t you say so earlier? Sold!” She laughs, and the sound of it wraps around my heart and squeezes. I love the sound of her laugh so much I find myself smiling at her as I offer her my elbow. She takes it, and I march us both to my SUV while she goes on and on about how I don’t have to do this, she can charge her phone at the bar, then call one of her sisters, but I ignore all her protests and excuses.

With the press of a button, my trunk pops open, and I toss the case inside. Her eggplant toy rolls out again, landing with a thunk against the cargo liner and quick as lightning, she shoves it deep into the case. I quirk a brow at her when I see the handle of a flogger and the glint of metal buried under the layers of thermals, jeans, and the Xi Chi Upsilon lettered sweatshirt.

“What?” Her tone feigns innocence, but her eyes dance with mischief and heat. “Told you things change.”

“And I told you if you ever needed anything, you call me.”

“Yeah, but I thought you meant if I was, like, in that specific kind of need.”

“Anything,” I repeat firmly as I walk her to the passenger side and help her into the seat. “Call me for anything. Even a whirlpool tub.”

She takes hold of my face. With her warm fingers dancing over my jawline, I can’t stop the tilt of my lips from inching upward.

Her gaze searches mine. “Are you sure there isn’t someone in your life who would mind me staying with you?”

I keep my eyes locked on hers, even as my heart thuds in my chest. “You, of all people, should know the answer to that.”

“Don’t play, Ryan. I need to know.”

“Why?”

She angles her head to the side and levels me with a look. “You know why.”

I grin at her. “You sayin’ you need me, then? For something specific ?”

“Let’s just say I can find a use for you.” Her lashes lower as she directs her gaze to my mouth. “If you’re up for it.”

“Oh, I’m up for it.” I twirl a strand of her silky, dark hair around one finger and tug. There’s an ache that pulses in my chest, one that longs for more than what she’s offering, but like always, I stifle it and clear my throat. “But since you asked, the answer’s no. There’s no one special in my life.”

Except you.

Our eyes lock, and my heart goes into overdrive as the fire that’s always burned bright between us flares.

Still there. Still pulsing and alive and burning.

She’s an inferno I’m willing to walk into and let consume me.

“Good.” She leans in, and her warm mouth presses against the corner of mine in a soft, sensual kiss full of affection and promise. “It’s nice to see you, Ry. You look good.”

I search her big brown eyes and grip her chin. Then, with my thumb brushing back and forth against her full bottom lip, I say, “So do you. Welcome home, Mel.”

In answer, she nips the pad of my thumb, and whatever friendly pretense we tried to maintain crumbles to ash. I lean in, capturing her mouth in a kiss that ignites something deep and primal and possessive inside me. The second her tongue slides against mine, my cock stiffens, pressing insistently against my jeans. I catch her lip between my teeth, pulling and sucking until a needy moan escapes her. She clings to me as I plunder her mouth, and every sound she makes stokes my passion to the point where my hand slides to her throat, and my fingers press gently against her pulse.

“ Yesss ,” she hisses, eyes flaring at me from beneath her half-lowered lids. “Only you know how to give me what I want.”

Shit . My breath comes out in a harsh, white puff as I pull back and stare at her. Even now, six years after we officially split up, our attraction to one another isn’t something either of us has ever been able to control.

I smooth a finger over her cheek, wondering if she can feel the tremor in my touch.

What the fuck I’m supposed to do now that she’s home for good? She’ll wreck me.

“Take me home, Ryan,” she rasps, voice thick with raw desire.

So I do.

And I hope she stays.