Chapter 25 #2
“Part of me wonders if she’s…” I swallow. “…not wrong. I don’t fit into your world. I work in a coffee shop. My dad is sick and we’re drowning in medical bills. Even if I work eighty hours a week, I still can’t make ends meet.”
“Scarlett.” His voice sounds like he wants to punch his fist through the wall.
I put my hands on his arms. “No, let me finish.” I let out a sob, the waterworks starting all over again.
“I’ve been pretending this whole week that I belong here.
That I fit in with your family and that this thing—” I motion between us.
“—is real. But it’s not. After the wedding, we go back to our lives.
You go back to being Coach Marco, and I go back to being the woman you order coffee from.
What we’re pretending to be is just an act—we put on a good performance, but that doesn’t mean it could actually work. ”
His eyes narrow. “You think this is an act?” His voice is too quiet.
“Why wouldn’t I?” I say with a bitter laugh. “We made a deal. An arrangement between friends—I help you through your sister’s wedding, you help me get the vendor contract. That’s all this is. A contract. I started to think it was more than that, and I’m the one who broke the rules.”
“What rules?”
“You told me at the beginning that you wanted someone who could only be your friend. And I thought I could honor our agreement.” I dip my head, the shame swirling inside me. “But I could never just be friends with you, Brendan Marco. Try as I might, I fail every time.”
His eyes hold mine for an excruciating moment. “Is that really what you think?” Heated emotion radiates off him, mixing with the steam from the water and making this hot tub feel like it’s boiling me alive. “You think I only wanted to be your friend.” The disappointment in his voice is palpable.
“We’re pretending to be a couple,” I say, my voice unsteady. “That’s the whole point.”
“Then let me be very clear.” Both hands rise to cup my face, his thumbs brushing tears from my cheeks as he tips his face to mine. “I have never wanted to be your friend.”
I frown, my stomach sinking to my feet. “You don’t?”
“No,” he says, dead serious. “Because ever since I met you—” He sucks in a breath. “I’ve wanted to be much more than your friend, Scarlett.”
I search his gaze. “What do you mean—more than?”
“You don’t know what more than a friend means?” he teases, his lips twitching.
“I know what it means. I just don’t know that I believe you.”
“Scarlett, it means I don’t want anyone else.
” His hands slip to my shoulders, then slide down my arms. “I want to be the one you fall in love with. The one who makes your face light up when you come home at night. Who gets to massage your feet and cook you dinner and admire your heart pajamas.” His fingers find mine and he pulls my hand to his mouth and presses a kiss to it.
“I want to be the man who not only kisses you better than anyone else—” He presses a kiss to my other hand slowly. “—but is the only one kissing you.”
I close my eyes, not fully trusting this. He wants me. Every emotion is running wild through my body like a hurricane. “Let me get this straight.” I open my eyes and look up at him. “After all this time, you want to be mine?”
He lets out a laugh at my confusion. “Yes, I’ve just been too afraid to admit it to you until now. Afraid your brother would hate me, and that you would too, after waiting this long.” One hand finds my face and he cups it gently. “This whole plan to pretend with you—was never pretend for me.”
I stare at him, my eyes filling with tears, but for a different reason now. My damp hair is plastered to my neck, while his curls around the nape of his neck. Droplets of water glisten on his shoulders as billows of steam cloud around us.
“I heard what Taylor said. I don’t belong with you.”
“She’s wrong,” he says in a tone that’s final. His hand finds my waist under the water, tugging me closer. “Scarlett, I don’t want someone sophisticated or well-traveled. I want you—the girl who gets competitive about carnival games and makes me carry around her enormous stuffed dolphin.”
A small smile tugs at my lips.
“Do you know what I see when I look at you?” He tucks a damp strand of hair behind my ear.
“I see someone brave enough to walk into a room full of strangers and hold her own. A woman who makes my entire family fall in love with her without even trying.” His thumb traces my cheekbone.
“Someone who makes me want to be the kind of man who deserves her.”
I nearly stop breathing.
“I see the girl who stole my baseball cap on the beach and never gave it back. The one I made a fool of myself for because I couldn’t stand seeing you with someone else.” His voice drops. “And I see the woman I’ve been trying to talk myself out of loving for over a decade.”
I look down at the water, a smile playing on my lips. “Admit it, you liked the serenade.”
The corner of his mouth lifts. “Maybe a little.” His eyes drop to my mouth. “Or maybe I just couldn’t stand the idea of anyone else making you smile like that.”
Now I’m softly laughing through my tears. And it’s all this man’s fault.
“I have a very specific type.” His voice is rough and raw, and I can’t get enough of it.
“And that type…is you.”
His eyes trace over my face. “You want to know what I love about you? I like how you bite your lip when making a decision, and that you cry when looking at old pictures. I like that you’re fiercely independent.
That you’d rather figure it out yourself than ask for help—even when you probably should.
” His eyes trace the dip of my neck, the curve of my shoulder.
“I know you’ve been carrying your family on your back for years since Eli stopped helping and your dad got sick, and nobody ever thinks to ask if you’re okay.
” His hand comes up to cup my face. “I think about you every day, Scarlett. Not because I’m trying to. Because I can’t stop.”
I stare at him, a lump in my throat so thick I can’t get any words out. Tears slip down my face again, but not because I’m sad.
For the first time in my life, someone chose me.
He brought me into his family, flaws and all, and made me feel like I belonged. I never had to pass any test.
“So when you say you don’t fit,” he says, brushing his thumbs along the hollow of my cheeks, “what I hear is that you don’t fit into a box someone else built for me.” His thumbs stop moving. “I don’t want that, Scarlett. I want you—that’s all. I can’t imagine choosing anyone else.”
My hands slide to his chest under the water, and I’m reminded how solid he feels beneath my palms.
“But why didn’t you ever tell me?” I ask.
“I was going to that night on the beach. Then I got the call about Carmen’s accident, and everything changed after that.
I missed my chance.” He sighs. “When I moved back to Sully’s Beach, you made it clear you wanted nothing to do with me.
So I told myself to forget you. Move on and find someone else.
” He shakes his head slowly. “The problem was, there was no one else. There never was. There was only you.”
He leans his forehead against mine, and my heart aches for the boy who never got the chance to be with the girl he wanted. “I hated pretending I didn’t care. Because I always knew you fit with me, Scarlett. If anyone isn’t good enough, it’s me. In my eyes, no one holds a candle to you.”
“But look at me!” I motion toward my face. “I’ve been bawling like a baby and my eyes are swollen and—”
“No.” He puts his finger to my lips to stop me from talking. He’s using that bossy coach voice, and I am here for it. “You are stunning to me. Especially with wet hair and tears in your eyes. I wish you could understand what I see every time I look at you.”
He shifts to the bench where I’m sitting and then wraps one hand around my waist, while his other hand slides to my hip. In one smooth motion, he moves me onto his lap. It feels good to be this close, to feel his rough skin against mine.
“I thought you didn’t care,” I say. “That I meant nothing to you.”
“I’ve waited all these years for you, Scarlett,” he counters, eyes blazing. “To tell you that…” Then he leans close, his lips stopping just short of mine. “I’m done waiting.”
His mouth finds mine slowly at first, like he’s savoring the first taste of something he’s wanted for a very long time.
His kiss is featherlight and teasing, his lips moving over mine like he’s in no hurry to rush this moment.
Just warm and sweet and perfect, everything I remember from before and yet entirely new.
He’s letting this kiss linger, tasting and touching and building the suspense until I’m wound so tight, I need more.
More of him. More of the tension building between us.
Suddenly, he pulls back, and his eyes flutter open, just enough to search my face.
He’s watching me. And there’s a fire inside his gaze.
“I’ve been hoping you’d finally let me in,” he whispers as his fingers stroke my face, his dark eyes blown wide.
I don’t answer; I’m too caught up in this moment. Right now, I’m fully into the mantra of a little less talk, a lot more action.
He leans in, angling his face toward mine, but waiting for a response.
And I don’t know what comes over me—maybe it’s the heat from the water that’s making me unable to think straight. Or maybe it’s what he started by kissing me slowly, scrubbing my brain of any coherent thoughts.
But I answer by closing the gap between us, shifting toward him so I can wrap my arms around him and be as close to him as possible.
I kiss him back with a desperation that makes me dizzy and breathless.
My hands slide up his chest, trace over his wet shoulders, and thread through the damp hair at the back of his neck.
A moan slides from his throat as he pulls me toward him, each kiss questioning, Should I continue?
And I answer with lips and teeth and tongue, Please don’t stop.
If there were any doubt about the authenticity of our relationship, it’s been blown away.
There’s nothing pretend about the way his hands slide to the base of my neck and his fingers move through my hair.
Nothing fake about the slight groan that escapes him when I nip at his bottom lip or the goose bumps that rush over my skin when he touches me.
His fingers move over my back like he’s been aching to touch me.
When his mouth finds my jaw, trailing kisses along it, it elicits a soft moan of pleasure.
Whenever I imagined kissing Brendan again, it was more of a revenge fantasy—a kiss where he’d finally realize his mistake and come crawling back. I had no idea that the truth would be the exact opposite. That I wouldn’t want revenge at all. I’d just want him.
His mouth is mesmerizing, fading everything else away until there’s nothing left but him. I can’t tell which is hotter—the heat of his body next to mine, the steamy water bubbling around us, or his lips on my skin as he drags warm kisses along my shoulder.
“Do you have any idea,” he murmurs between kisses, “how much I’ve been trying not to do this? You’ve been driving me crazy, Rossi.”
I tip his mouth to meet mine. “That’s just payback, Marco.”
He grins against my lips. “For what?”
“For showing me how good you look without a shirt and—” His lips cut me off, and I forget whatever I was going to say, lost entirely in this kiss.
Somewhere in the back of my mind, I know this is reckless and impulsive, but I can’t bring myself to care right now. Not when he’s kissing me like this.
I attempt to pull away, trying to catch my breath, but he makes it very hard to concentrate as his mouth grazes my neck.
“You were right, Brendan Marco.”
He pulls back just enough to look at me, his eyes hazy. “About what?”
I reach up and trace my thumb along his jaw, feeling the stubble there. “Do you remember what you said on the Ferris wheel?” A smile spreads across my lips. “You do know exactly how I like to be kissed.”
He leans his forehead against mine. “There never was any question about that.”
“And you’re still the best kisser,” I add, making sure he knows that part hasn’t changed.
The grin on his face makes my heart ping. “Scarlett, I’m the only kisser you’ve ever had.”
“Doesn’t matter. You’d still win.” I wonder if he can see the truth behind my eyes—that I’m not just attracted to him, but have gigantic, complicated feelings for him. “Which means you set an impossibly high standard.”
He brushes a thumb across my bottom lip, like he’s already planning the next one. “Easy to set the bar high when you’re the only person I want to kiss.”