Seducing Lauren Page 14

  “Don’t worry, baby”—Jack wraps his arm around Misty—“she’ll get what’s coming to her.”

  “Are you threatening her?” I step toward him and get in his face, nose to nose.

  “Ty, it’s okay.” Lo pulls on my arm.

  I stand firm. “No. It’s not.”

  “You might want to listen to her. There are a lot of people watching, and I’ll press charges if you so much as touch me.” Jack’s eyes are crazy, staring into my own. I back away from him, and just as we’re about to walk away, Jack just can’t keep his mouth shut.

  “So”—Jack looks over at me and looks me up and down scornfully. I want to punch him so bad I can taste it—“how does it feel to fuck my sloppy seconds?”

  Lo’s grip on my hand tightens and I want with all of my being to tackle this smug-faced motherfucker to the ground and make him bleed, long and hard. To feel the satisfaction of my knuckles breaking his nose.

  But I can’t. The last thing I need is this pussy pressing charges for assault.

  Misty has begun to laugh, finding Jack to be the funniest thing she’s ever seen.

  Lauren’s eyes glimmer as she turns them to Misty and, steady as can be, says, “I could ask you the same question.”

  Atta girl. I smile down at her and kiss her temple.

  She grins up at me. I’m relieved that despite being afraid of Jack in the past, she doesn’t allow him to bully her.

  “Also, I do believe you’re violating the protection order that I filed. I know you received it. You’re not allowed to come near me, or my property.”

  Both Jack and Misty lose their smiles and glare at both of us.

  “You used to be so much better than this,” Misty spits out.

  “Better than what?” Lo asks.

  “Better than the bitch you are now.” Misty flips her hair behind her shoulder.

  “No, I was a doormat before, Misty. I’m never going to be that again.”

  “Just pay me my money,” Jack sneers. “I don’t give a shit about anything else.”

  “Wow, you two are just perfect for each other,” Lo murmurs. “But then again, assholes should stick together. We have better things to do than waste our time with you.” She looks up at me and grins. “Let’s keep shopping.”

  “After you.” I kiss her hand and follow her around a pissed Jack and Misty toward the heart of the market, where a band is set up on the stage, playing country music.

  “I feel nothing for him.” She sighs. “It’s sad to me.”

  “It is?”

  “Yeah. I once loved him with everything in me, and now when I look at him, I feel just . . . emptiness. Nothing.” She shrugs and glances up at me with worried eyes. “How is that possible?”

  “It’s not just a matter of falling out of love with someone, Lo. He is cruel to you. I suspect he has been for a long time.”

  She just nods, and I want so badly to march back there and beat Jack bloody.

  Instead, I pull Lo close to my side, my arm wrapped around her back and hand resting on her hip. We nod and wave at the people we know, and Lo buys a jar of huckleberry jam before we walk closer to the stage.

  “I love this song,” she murmurs with a small smile.

  “Blake Shelton fan, are you?”

  “Have you seen his dimples? He’s hot.” She shrugs and bats her eyes up at me.

  “Come on, smart-ass.” I tug her to the grass before the stage, set our bags down, and pull her in my arms. We sway back and forth and she begins to sing along under her breath, more than a little off-key, to “Mine Would Be You.”

  “Mine is you, Lo.” I kiss her temple and ignore the stares and smiles of our community as they watch us dance across the grass.

  “Everyone is watching,” she murmurs, but doesn’t pull away.

  “I don’t give a shit. Let them watch.”

  She relaxes her tall, lean body against me and the music carries us away. Before long, other couples, young and old, join us.

  When the song ends, Lo cups my face in her hands and pulls me down for a soft kiss, which shocks the shit out of me, but I definitely don’t complain or try to pull away.

  “Let’s go home.”

  I grab our bags and Lo takes my hand, leading me toward the bridge.

  “It’s dark, sweetheart.”

  “The city installed lights over the bridge. There were too many kids getting into trouble at night, so it’s all lit up now.”

  “How do you know this?”

  “It’s my bridge.” She shrugs as we follow the path to the bridge, walking side by side and hand in hand. When we get to the center of the bridge, she stops and looks over the side; her hair fans around her face and she takes a long, deep breath. “I love it here.”

  “Me too.”

  She glances up and smiles. The music from the band in the park drifts to us in the cold fall night. “You’re not looking at the water.”

  “I’m looking at exactly what I love about it.”

  She sobers and turns to me, presses her body to mine, from her chest to her knees, and loops her arms around my shoulders, staring up at me. “You say the sweetest things.”

  “I’m just being honest, sweetness.”

  She shivers as my lips meet hers, not moving, just resting lightly against hers. Finally, I nibble to the corner of her mouth and hug her close as the band begins to play a country duet. I slowly begin to sway back and forth, unable to stop myself.

  Lo’s body was meant for mine, and when she’s pressed up against me like this and music is playing, I can’t help but move my body with hers.

  “You must love to dance,” she murmurs softly.

  “I never cared about it either way until you. Now I can’t seem to stop dancing. Or, maybe you just feel incredible against me and this is as close as we can get to sex with our clothes on.” I grin down at her. Her face is bathed in moonlight and soft light from the streetlamps, making her eyes and hair shine, and I’m pretty sure I’ve never seen anything else so fucking beautiful in my whole life.

  “This is a really great bridge,” Lo whispers against my neck as she rests her head on my shoulder and gives herself up to the song.

  “Don’t you wanna stay here a little while?” The words float around us, and for now, on this bridge, in this moment, I feel Lo letting go. Trusting me.

  No, I don’t want to stay here a little while. I want to stay forever.

  CHAPTER

  Thirteen

  LAUREN

  I wake to loud banging and pounding coming from downstairs.

  “Ty!” I reach for him, waking him up. “Someone’s trying to get in!”

  “What?” He scowls as he jumps from the bed and pulls his sweats up over his naked hips, then pins me with his intense eyes and orders, “Stay here,” before jogging out the door and down the stairs.

  I get out of bed and pull on my own jeans, a bra, and am pulling my shirt over my head when he saunters back in the room.

  “The work crew is here.”

  “No one is breaking in?”

  “No, sweetness.” He pulls me into his arms and hugs me tight before patting my ass and letting go. “Looks like your pool house is being fixed.”

  “Oh, thank God.” I slide my feet in my shoes and head for the door. “I’m going down to make coffee.”

  “I’ll jump in the shower and meet you down there.”

  Ten minutes later, the coffee is percolating and I’m leaning against the countertop, scowling as hammers and loud male voices come through my mudroom door.

  “How am I supposed to concentrate like this?” Another buzz saw sounds as men walk around my windows, carrying wood and glass, as Ty walks into the kitchen. It’s now Friday, two days past when the windows were supposed to be finished, but because the glass was late coming in, and the window frames needed to be redone, a crew couldn’t come out until today.

  Four days before my deadline.

  “Go in your office, baby.” Ty kisses my head as he p
ours himself a mug of coffee. “Put your headphones on and ignore them. They should be done later today.”

  “I don’t write with headphones on,” I pout. I know I’m being ridiculous, but I can’t help it. “Why did this have to happen so close to my deadline?”

  “I don’t know why you’re worried,” Ty responds calmly. “You’ll finish on time.”

  “We hope,” I mutter. The truth is, I’ve been too preoccupied with all things delicious lawyer and his friends to devote the time I should to my book. My deadline schedule is rigorous, but it’s always been manageable because I’ve never had this many distractions to deal with.

  Not to mention, I haven’t been able to swim for almost a week, and it’s really put me off my game.

  “You’ll be able to swim in the morning,” Ty reminds me, as if he’s reading my mind.

  “Thank God.” I sigh and give Ty a kiss on the cheek. “Not swimming has been rough.”

  “I know.” His gray eyes are happy as he smiles at me. “If you’d rather not go to the pumpkin patch tonight, we can do it another time.”

  “I want to go. If I can get some words written this afternoon, it’ll be fine.” Just then the buzz saws fire up again, making me cringe. “Or maybe I won’t get anything done at all.”

  “Go to your office.”

  “I need coffee.”

  “I’ll get it. Go.” He swats my ass as I scoot out of the kitchen to my office and drop my butt in the chair, resigned to being unproductive again.

  Should I e-mail the editor now, begging for an extension, or spring it on her last minute?

  I shake my head, determined that that will be a last resort and open my Word document. Just as I’m plugging my headphones into my computer, my phone buzzes with a text from Emily:

  How many words so far today?

  Me: Zilch.

  Emily: Get crackin’!

  “Easy for you to say,” I mutter, and set my music. “You don’t have five million construction workers milling about your house, causing all kinds of distractions.”

  The music helps to block out some of the noise, and before long I’m swept up into the story, my fingers tapping quickly across the keyboard.

  Ty sets a steaming mug of coffee at my elbow and rests his hands on my shoulders, kneading them firmly and rhythmically. I lean back into his touch as I continue to type, his hands soothing rather than distracting me.

  After a long moment, he pulls my headphones off my ears and says, “Did he really just spank her ass with a riding crop?”

  “You’re reading over my shoulder?” I laugh as I look back at him.

  “Of course. I’m standing right here.”

  “Yes, he spanked her.” I move to replace my headphones on my head, but he grabs them and leans over me so he can see my face.

  “Does that turn you on?”

  “It turns her on.”

  “That doesn’t answer my question.”

  I lean away and watch his face. He’s not smiling, and his eyes are hot, almost like when he’s aroused.

  “I don’t like to be hit,” I finally reply. “It doesn’t turn me on.”

  “Okay.” He nods and begins to back away, but I stop him.

  “Would it turn you on?” I ask softly.

  He squats on his haunches at my side, turning my chair toward him so I have his undivided attention.

  “The thought of striking you does nothing for me, Lauren.” He pushes my hair behind my ear and pulls his thumb down my jawline. “I might enjoy swatting your ass playfully while I fuck you from behind, but I’d never do anything to hurt you.”

  He’s not Jack. I nod and take my headphones from his hands. “I know.”

  “Do you?”

  I meet his intense gray gaze with mine and smile reassuringly. “I know, Ty.”

  “Good.” He cups my face and kisses me hard, then stands and kisses the top of my head. “I have to go to work. Are you going to be okay here?”

  “Yeah, thanks for the coffee. I’m just gonna work too.” Hammering and men yelling can be heard from the back of the house. “Or try, anyway.”

  “Good luck.” He kisses me once more and heads for the door. “I’ll pick you up at six for the pumpkin patch.”

  I wave him off and dive back into the story, the music playing in my ears, which I’m not used to, but it’s better than the ruckus coming from my pool house.

  Just as I begin to get lost in the rhythm of writing, there’s a tap on my shoulder. I jump and spin, pulling the headphones off my head and yelping in surprise.

  “Sorry, Lo, didn’t mean to scare you,” Dave, the head of the crew, mutters. “But I’ve been calling your name, and you didn’t hear me.”

  “I’m sorry, Dave. What’s up?”

  “Can you follow me?” He leads me out of the office toward the pool.

  The whole room is a complete mess. Sawdust and tools are everywhere. Thank God Michael covered the pool, or this would ruin my filtration system.

  I prop my hands on my hips. “Why does it look like the whole wall has been torn down?”

  “Because it has.” Dave grimaces. “It was all rotten, Lo. Could be from the moisture of the pool, but the wood was bad. I don’t know who your dad had install this, but they did a shitty job.” He points to the pile of lumber that has been torn out and tossed on the lawn behind the house.

  “So you have to rebuild it?” I ask with wide eyes.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “How long will this take?”

  “It’s not big, so just a few days. I’ll have the guys work through the weekend.” He shrugs and grins. “It’s better to find it now, rather than have it collapse under the weight of the snow this winter.”

  “True.” I’m still in shock that my pool house doesn’t have a freaking wall.

  “We’ll work here until about three today, and then I’ll let the guys go while I go order more supplies and we’ll start early tomorrow morning.”

  “Okay, sounds good. Thanks, Dave.”

  He waves, and I stomp back to my office, resigned that I’ll have to live with this noise through the weekend.

  Glancing at the clock, I see it’s already midmorning, so the early rush at Drips & Sips will be gone, and I should be able to find a quiet corner to hole up in with my computer. I close my laptop and throw it, along with the power cord and some notes, into my old computer bag and set out for the little coffee shop.

  Just as I suspected, the café is quiet. I can wear my headphones here as easily as I can at home, and since I’m tucked away, I shouldn’t be bothered much.

  Or that’s the plan, anyway.

  And it works fine for the first few hours. Half of the coffee sitting at my elbow goes cold because I completely forget it’s there as I get absorbed in the story. I’m finally to the climax of the book, the part where we don’t know if the hero and the heroine will be able to make it through with their relationship intact.

  It’s all dramatic.

  Suddenly, I feel eyes on me and a shadow falls across my keyboard.

  “Hey.” Jill grins and waves, holding two fresh coffees. “Can I join you?”

  “Sure.” I shrug, save my file, and close the laptop. “It’s time for a break.”

  “Are you”—she glances around and then whispers, “writing?”

  I nod and gratefully accept the coffee she hands me. “Thanks for the coffee.”

  “You look like you’ve been here awhile.”

  I check the time on my phone and am surprised to see it’s already early in the afternoon. “I guess I have. Time flies when the story is hot.”

  Jill laughs. “And your stories are hot.”

  “Thank you.” I blush as I take a sip of my coffee, still surprised that I confided in Jill and Cara last week. “What are you up to?”

  “I have a few hours between house showings, so I thought I’d pop in for some coffee. Just tell me if I’m interrupting.”

  “You’re fine. I really needed a break
. I got quite a lot done since I’ve been here.”

  “Why are you here?” She sips her coffee.

  “The construction crew is at my place repairing the pool house, and they’re noisy and distracting. I couldn’t concentrate.”

  “But you can concentrate here?” Jill raises a brow and looks about the café at the waitresses clinking cups and working the loud espresso machine.

  “I used to come here all the time to write when I was with Jack. I had to hide it from him, so this worked. The espresso machine is much better than hammering and buzz saws.”

  Jill laughs and nods. “I can see that.”

  “So we’re all going to the pumpkin patch tonight?”

  “Yes! I’m excited. But don’t make me go through the haunted house. I’ll pee myself.”

  “Oh, don’t be a wimp. It’ll be fun.”

  “I’m happy with my wimp status. I don’t think Cara will go for it either.”

  “What about the corn maze?” I ask.

  “I have a horrible sense of direction, but I’m up for that.” Jill sips her coffee, finishing it, then leans back in her chair and watches me for a long moment. “So, you’re in love with my brother.”

  “Huh?” Did she just say that?

  “You heard me.”

  “I don’t know that I’m in love with him.” I slowly shake my head back and forth.

  “Why not? What’s wrong with him?”

  “There’s nothing wrong with him.” I laugh, knowing that there is no way to win this conversation. “We’re still learning each other.”

  “Ty’s a good guy.” Jill traces the sleeve on her coffee cup. “He’s had some tough breaks, but haven’t we all?”

  “We have.”

  “Have you seen him in the courtroom?”

  “No.”

  “Oh, girl, you should see him when he gets riled up. He’s all stern and hard and quite the force to be reckoned with.”

  “Really?” I’m surprised. “He’s only ever been sweet and kind to me.”

  “He’s ruthless in the courtroom. People don’t fuck with him there.”

  This is a new side to Ty that I don’t yet know. He’s always so gentle, loving even, with me. But at some moments he’s been pretty controlling and take-charge, so it shouldn’t surprise me that he’s a hard-ass in his job.