Chapter Forty-One
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
It’s getting dark out. The streetlights have just come on, but since this is Dallas and not Denver, there’s no bite to the temperature with the sun going down. It only takes ten minutes for Seth to navigate through the neighborhoods back to Mom’s little ranch house. He does his best to make small talk, asking Lydia about her flight, but when he inquires about the Pooches, we both go silent, and finally he just turns on the radio.
We pull up to the curb in front of our childhood home, and Seth hops out, leaving the engine idling as he retrieves her suitcase from the trunk. Lydia climbs out of the back seat to meet him on the front walk, giving him an earnest hug as he hands over her luggage. For a minute, I just sit in the passenger seat, staring through the windshield with my hands in my lap, not sure if I should be grateful or annoyed they get along so well.
Seth opens my door and waits for me to climb out. “Think I’ll go find myself a nightcap.”
I narrow my eyes, pretty sure I know what he’s thirsty for. But I also can’t blame him for wanting to make himself scarce.
“Night,” I say, peeling myself out of his SUV.
The air is warm and calm as he drives away, and I shuffle up the walkway behind Lydia. Definitely not watching the sway of her gorgeous hips in those jeans.
She pauses at the stoop and opens her mouth like she wants to say something, but closes it again. Taking a step back, she puts a friendly distance between us, like strangers on the street.
I bite my lip, unlocking the door and holding it open. Lydia reaches for her suitcase. I don’t know what she packed in there, but when she struggles to heft it off the stoop, I grab the handle, relieving her of the burden. Lydia hesitates, with an uncomfortable glance at me. “Um...if you’d prefer, I can book a hotel.”
Her voice rises like a question at the end, and I freeze on the doorstep. Mom’s two-bedroom ranch isn’t exactly huge. Seth’s in the master bedroom, but I’ve been crashing in the room we shared as kids—the same one Lydia and I have stayed in together every time we’ve visited.
I raise my head to stare at her, the word “hotel” ricocheting through my mind, lighting up memories of her lace-framed ass and the heated texts of a fantasy girl who doesn’t exist.
The instant our eyes meet, I can tell she’s having the same flood of memory.
She opens her mouth, face flushed. “I just thought—I mean, I wasn’t sure whether?—”
“You’ll stay here.”
My words come out gruff and commanding. No room for argument or debate, just directive. And I know if my brother had stayed, he would tell me I’m an ass or just punch me in the face. I flex my fingers, waiting for Lydia to object. But thank God, she doesn’t. She studies me, arching one eyebrow the way she does when she’s trying to strategize. Then she nods slowly, and I carry her suitcase inside.
Mom’s old orange tabby cat, Bruno, greets us with a broken-sounding meow as soon as we walk in, and Lydia goes right to him, rubbing him gently behind the ears.
“Seth been taking good care of you?” she asks, and it’s a second before I realize she’s talking to the cat.
Bruno struts along the back of the couch, wailing a string of lies about being underloved and undernourished. Lydia takes him at his word, walking straight to the pantry in the kitchen. It doesn’t take long for her to find the giant stock of sardines my mother has always kept and my brother now maintains just for the mangy cat’s benefit.
“That’s better, isn’t it?” she asks as he devours one of the headless silver fish off a plate.
“That’s his third one today,” I mutter, opening the fridge for some sweet tea. Mom always used to brew it herself, but Seth is lazy and buys the bottled kind that never tastes quite right. Remembering my manners, I hold one out to Lydia, though she’s never been a fan. As expected, she wrinkles her nose and declines.
I retrieve a glass for myself, watching her out of the corner of my eye. She’s removed her hoodie and is studying a snapshot Mom stuck on the fridge years ago of Lydia and me embracing at the top of Quandary Peak in Colorado. It was our first fourteener—mountains over fourteen thousand feet high that you can scale in a day. We had plans to climb more, or at least I did, but that had to be five or more years ago and we still haven’t summited a second.
“Remember that?” she says with a wistful half smile.
I look more closely at the image. We’d driven to the mountains for the weekend, taking a much-needed break from the work grind right after she got Ooh La Pooch up and running. You can hike to the summit and back in half a day, but above ten thousand feet, it was a more strenuous hike than either of us was used to. Once we got there, it felt amazing standing on top of the peak, looking out at the entire world. After we’d made it back to our campsite that night and were curled up in our tent, I’d reached for her, ready to cap off a fantastic day by making love deep in the forest. There was no one around for miles. But she’d shut me down, rolled over, and pulled away because “someone might hear us.” Some raccoon, fox, or bear that might object to the sounds of animal pleasures, I guess.
She raises her eyes to mine when I don’t answer, and her smile fades.
But as I think about that trip some more, Jess and Izzy’s voices start whispering through my head, and I wonder if I could’ve approached her differently. Made her feel more comfortable, relaxed, instead of turning away and giving up.
“What are you really doing here?” I ask, clearing my throat. I know she wanted to see Mom, but after our exchange on Unmatched, I’m more confused than ever. I just need to know what’s going on.
She straightens. “I needed to come.”
I can’t help noticing she has her phone gripped in her hand, ready to answer any Pooch demand at a moment’s notice, like always.
“Shouldn’t you be at work?” I say, somehow unable to dial down my inner jerk.
She opens her mouth, a strange look crossing her features. “Actually, I am also here for a business meeting.”
My shoulders slump involuntarily. I should’ve known. I clench my jaw, wishing I hadn’t asked.
“With you,” she says, stepping toward me.
I raise my head.
“Anton, I—I decided to reconsider the deal with ABizCorp.” Her eyes are bright, filled with an emotion I can’t process.
I let her words sink in, drifting around my mind, trying to find a meaningful shape. She’s going to sell the Pooches? After everything she said back in Denver?
“Why would you do that?”
“Because it makes sense.” She sets her phone face down on the counter without even glancing at it. “You were right. I’ve been working too much. I haven’t been balancing things well.”
I stare at her, my throat tightening.
She lowers her voice. “After you left Denver, I?—”
“No.” I cut her off, realizing what she’s trying to do. “You made your choice. I’m not going to watch you sell what you’ve worked for, what you love most, just for...”
I can’t look at her and finish the sentence, so I turn toward the bedroom to get my running shoes, wishing she’d gone to a hotel after all.
“I’m not selling,” she says quietly. “ ABizCorp, LLC belongs to Henry Hill. We’re forming a partnership. Dividing the workload. Creating balance.”
My feet slow. Her footsteps follow behind me.
“I want you, Anton,” she says, the choice of words hitting me in the chest. “And after I saw your messages on Unmatched...I think you still want me too. ”
I stop in the doorway to my childhood bedroom, my heart pounding.
“You said if you could do it over, you would.” She comes around in front of me, placing a hand on my arm. “Did you mean it?”
I raise my head, locking her eyes with mine, afraid I’ll find a placating gaze. The one she puts on when she’s giving in, resigning herself to let me have what I’m after. But something’s changed. Her eyes radiate a heat that sets my skin aflame.
“ Of course I would.” The words rip out of me.
Her hand slides from my arm to my chest, and I close my eyes, her fingers scorching through my shirt.
“I don’t think I know my own body very well,” she whispers, so quietly I can barely hear. “I don’t think I ever have.”
Slowly, cautiously, I touch the tips of my fingers to her thigh, dragging them up over her hip until they dip along her waist under her T-shirt. Every part of her is already so familiar. “Would you like to?”
A soft rose pink blooms over her cheeks. “Yes...I think I would.”
“I wouldn’t mind getting to know some places better,” I say, my guard beginning to crumble as I nuzzle her hair.
Even in the dim light, I see her face grow a deeper pink.
I pause. “But only if you’re comfortable.”
She swallows, not looking up. “For a while, I wasn’t sure.” She traces my abdominal muscles lightly through my shirt. “It didn’t seem like being...with you...could ever feel good.”
My stomach knots. My hands go still. “Lydia, there are some people who?—”
“But when I got the rabbit,” she continues, fingers dipping beneath my shirt. “I started to think I was wrong.”
I suck in a breath. My brain immediately overloads with images of her exploring her own pleasure, sprawled across our bed, hot-pink vibrator slick between her legs. I am hard instantly.
I pull her against me, murmuring in her ear. “And how do you feel about it now?”
“Like I want to learn more,” she breathes.
Gently, I slide my hands beneath her shirt, caressing her skin until my fingers make contact with what feels like a lacy, delicate bra. A fiery pulse in my groin punctuates my own arousal, but quietly in the back of my mind, Jess and Izzy whisper: now bring her into the moment with you . I let my fingers explore, running my thumbs over her nipples until Lydia lets out a small gasp.
“And you’re sure this is what you want,” I say, tracing my lips over her collarbone, her sweet vanilla scent almost enough to drown my doubts.
She doesn’t respond with words. Instead, she does something spectacular. She brings one hand to my waist, slips into my pants, and starts to stroke me. Before I even realize it’s what I want. I am already so hard; my cock turns to steel under her fingers. I back her up until she hits the wall, and I grind into her hip, feeling utterly primal. She wraps her other arm around my neck, and my hands are everywhere under her shirt, pushing the fabric up. Our eyes meet, and I pause, searching for any sign of reluctance. In answer, she locks her lips warm and sweet over mine. I slip the shirt the rest of the way over her head, and then she’s standing in just her jeans and the most tantalizing bra I think I’ve seen—aside from the night at the hotel. Its champagne color is almost invisible against her skin, nipples showing clearly through sheer fabric that makes her breasts look like they’re floating.
Her lashes flutter and she looks at me like she’s where she’s always wanted to be. “I want to keep learning...about both our bodies.”