Easy Kisses (The Boudreaux Series Book 4) (21 page)

“I don’t like feeling jealous. This is new to me, and I clearly don’t handle it very well.”

“No. You don’t.” I pull away, not willing to look him in the eyes. “All you ever have to do is
ask
, Simon. I’ll answer any questions you have. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I want to be alone for a while.”

I turn and leave the room, jogging up to my bedroom. If I stay in the house, I’ll have to talk to him, and I just don’t want to do that right now. But I can’t go to the shop looking like this. And if I go to any of the family, they’ll immediately hate Simon.

Which he deserves.

It’s begun to rain outside, cooling the warm afternoon air. So I pull on my running outfit and shoes and leave the house.

I need to run and think and clear my head. Simon is still standing in the living room when I pass by.

“Where are you going?” His voice isn’t angry anymore.

“For a run. I won’t be long.”

Before he can answer, I set off jogging down the street and through my neighborhood. It feels good to be outside, and the rain is nice.

God, he hurt me. I realize now that it wasn’t just anger that drove me close to hysteria. It was the hurt.

Simon can hurt me, and I’ve never let a man get close enough to do that before. Is this all a mistake? Have I let myself get too close to him?

I guess that most couples have spats. I never saw my parents fight, but it must happen. Kate and Gabby have both told me that they’ve wanted to stab their husbands in their sleep.

And the stories Callie tells us about Declan have us rolling on the ground with laughter.

But this isn’t funny, and I don’t know how to handle it. I’m not equipped with the tools to deal with it.

I turn the corner toward the house, still not sure what I’m going to say when I go inside when suddenly, out of the haze of rain, are squealing tires.

Chapter Sixteen

~Charly~

Strong arms wrap around me and pull me roughly onto the sidewalk as the car screeches to a stop where I was just standing.

“Are you okay?”

I look up into Simon’s ocean blue eyes, full of fear now. His hold on me is tight, and he’s not letting go.

“I’m fine. It didn’t touch me.”

“Oh my God!” the driver cries out as she hurries out of the car and around to where Simon has me in a death grip on the sidewalk. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t see you in this rain until it was too late. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” I reply and pull away from Simon, but he won’t let go of my hand. “You didn’t hit me.”

“But I would have, if he hadn’t pulled you out of the way. My husband has been badgering me to get new tires, and now I know why. I’m so sorry.”

Drivers lined up behind the woman’s car begin to honk, their patience running out.

“I’m fine,” I repeat. “You can go. Really.”

“Here’s my card,” she says as she walks away. “Call me if you need anything.”

I nod, and before I know it, Simon is leading me back to my house and inside.

“Thanks for dragging me down the block.” I’m still a little angry at him, but he just looks…
terrified.

“Are you sure you weren’t hurt?” he asks as he pulls me against him, hugging me tightly. He buries his face in my neck. “You’re soaked to the bone.”

“So are you,” I reply and rest my shaking hands on his hips. “I’m fine, Simon. Thank you for pulling me out of the way. But what were you doing there?”

“I was going out to look for you,” he says, not pulling away. If anything, his grip tightens. “You were gone a long while, and I needed to see you.”

“I can’t breathe, Simon.” He loosens his hold, but still doesn’t let me go completely. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“I’m sorry,” he says immediately. He’s not desperate. He’s not sarcastic. He’s just honest, and it softens me a little more. “I was a dick earlier, and I’m sorry for it.”

“You were a dick,” I reply, agreeing wholeheartedly.

“I regretted the words as soon as they left my mouth. And then when I decided to go find you, and I saw that car almost hit you, bloody hell, Charly, I lost ten years off of my life.”

“Hey.” I reach up and cup his cheek gently. “I’m fine.”

“I can’t lose you,” he says, his voice low and maybe a little tentative, as if he’s wary of voicing it aloud. I’ve never seen him quite this vulnerable, even the other day when he was telling me about his ex-wife. He drags his fingertips down my face and steps closer again. We’re both dripping on the floor, and neither of us seems to care. “You mean more to me than I can put into words, and I just can’t lose you now.”

He swallows hard and keeps talking, which is good because I’m not sure what to say.

“But what I said earlier was rude and inexcusable, and if you want me to go, I understand.”

I bite my lip and watch his handsome face as emotions I can’t put a name to cross his face.

“Why did you assume that I was deliberately withholding information?”

He closes his eyes and shakes his head.

“Because betrayal is more common in my life than I like to admit. Because the man my ex-wife fucked around with was my business partner, who happened to hide a
lot
of money from me. The business struggled needlessly for a long time because he wasn’t honest about his financial situation, and frankly, I’m not accustomed to honesty.

“I’m used to having to figure out the puzzle, and it pisses me off.”

“It pisses me off too,” I reply, still not touching him back. His shoulders slump in defeat.

“I know that you are not any of the people from my past, and it’s ridiculous that I would compare you to them, or allow those experiences to trigger my reactions to you.”

“Yes, but that’s called being a human being,” I reply, the mad gone from me now. “At least now you know I’m not a gold digger.”

His lips twitch.

“But, I wonder if it would make you more comfortable if I was?”

He tips his head to the side and he pushes his fingers in my dripping hair.

“No. I wouldn’t be more comfortable. I’m quite taken with you, just as you are. I’m deeply sorry for what I said earlier, Charlotte. I can’t promise that my baggage won’t make me screw up in the future, but I can promise that I’m learning from it. I won’t jump to conclusions again.”

“Good,” I reply and wrap my arms around his waist now. “Just talk to me, Simon.”

“I can do that.”

***

It’s been four days since my fight with Simon. He’s been true to his word, asking me questions when he has a concern, and he’s been even more open with me about his family. The fight sucked alligator balls, but I think it brought us to a closer place with each other.

I’ve never felt so comfortable, or more connected to, another human being the way I do Simon Danbury.

Who would have thought?

And, just like every single day since he’s been here, I close my shop on time. Just as I’m flipping the sign over to
closed
, Simon walks through the door, with his sexy smile all over his face.

“Hi there, handsome.”

“Well, hello, love.”

“You know,” I say as I lock the door behind him, then walk to my counter to close out the till and get ready to leave. “I’ve discovered that since you’ve been here, you’re very bad for my productivity.”

“How is that?” He leans on the counter and braces his chin on his fist, watching me.

“I’m closing the shop early, for one.”

“I do believe the sign in the window says you close at six.” He checks his watch. “And look at that, it’s six.”

“I haven’t actually closed at six since…well, I don’t remember. I usually chat with customers, redesign displays, shop for new stock. But most of that has been set aside because I seem to be spending most of my time with a certain sexy Brit. It’s a good thing you’re cute.”

He raises a brow and stands to full height, taking my breath away. His ink is on display again in a simple black T-shirt, stretched over wide, muscular shoulders.

Where did my knees go again?

“Cute, am I?”

His accent gets even thicker when he’s turned on, and it’s on full blast now.

“Adorable.”

He slowly circles around the counter and leans into me, pinning my hips against it. His lips are inches from mine.

“I don’t think a man is supposed to be
cute.
”

“No?” Oh, God, I can’t breathe right when he’s this close to me. His hands are on my hips now, his fingers under the hem of my blouse, and then gliding up my skin and over my bra to cup my breasts.

“We shouldn’t do this here.” Is that my voice? I sound breathy and turned on, which is pretty accurate.

“No one is here,” he says and brushes feather-soft kisses over my cheek to my ear. My body is one giant shiver. Thank God for the giant display I built today that blocks us from outside traffic.

As if by their own volition, my hands make their way down the back of his jeans to cup his very fine ass just as he nips my neck, making me gasp.

“How
cute
am I now?” he whispers, never taking his lips from my skin.

“You’re just precious,” I reply, hearing my own accent thicken along with his cock pressed to my belly.

“You make me laugh,” he says, smiling against my neck. “You make me so hard it hurts. And I’m grateful that you’re wearing a skirt.”

“Why is that?”

He reaches down and balls the material in his fists, raising it above my waist.

“You’re not wearing panties,” he says with surprise, his blue eyes pinned to mine.

“Not today.”

“Fucking hell, Charly.” He boosts me up on the edge of the counter and grinds his hard, jean-clad cock against my core, setting me on fire. “You’re already wet.”

“I look at you and get wet,” I reply. I’m breathless. On fire. “If you’re not inside me in two seconds, we’re going to have an issue.”

“We don’t want to have an issue,” he replies and unzips his jeans, frees his cock, and pushes inside me immediately, stealing what breath I have left.

“God, you feel good,” I moan, clutching his shoulders. “I’ve been thinking about this all day.”

“Good because there will be more later.” He grips my hips and picks up the pace, fucking me hard and furiously here in the middle of my shop.

Sex in the middle of gorgeous shoes? Am I in heaven?

Because I’m pretty sure this is what heaven looks like.

“If you’re able to laugh, I’m doing this wrong. You’re not good on the ego, love.”

“No, I was—oh, God—just thinking that this must be what heaven looks like.”

He cocks a brow.

“Amazing sex surrounded by shoes.”

His lips twitch into a satisfied smile. He rips my shirt open, not giving one shit about the buttons popping off, and sucks my already hard nipples into his mouth.

“How cute am I now?” he asks, his eyes serious and narrowed as he fucks me relentlessly against the countertop.

“You’re not cute,” I reply, holding on for dear life. He presses his thumb to my clit, tearing me apart inside out. “You’re everything.”

I cry out, clinging to him.

Everything.

Fucking baby Moses, I’ve fallen in love with him.

***

Why is there a baby chick in my bed?

Okay, so I can’t actually
see
it, but it’s nestled up against my cheek, all warm and fuzzy. I might not kill whoever put it here.

“Darling, I need you to wake up,” Simon says, patting my ass. I’m on my stomach, which is my usual way to sleep. I reach my arm out and come up with cold sheets.

Simon’s up already?

“Why are you awake?” I ask, not opening my eyes.

“Because I had work to do,” he replies. “And I brought you this.”

“A baby chick?”

“What?” He bursts out laughing. “No, love. Open your eyes.”

“Can’t.”

“Yes, you can.”

“No, you killed me last night.”

I smirk and stretch my arms over my head, frowning when I feel the baby chick leave my cheek. Our sexual relationship has been out of control over the past few days since the quickie in my shop.

And by out of control, I mean non-stop and
wow.

“Do I smell bacon?”

I immediately sit up and spin around to find Simon sitting, shirtless mind you, with a tray of food.

“Happy Breakfast,” he says with a sheepish smile. “I’m not a great cook, but I can make a plate of bacon and eggs.”

“God love you,” I reply and reach for a slice of bacon. “Mmm.”

“Good?”

“Mmm.” I nod and search the bed. “I feel bad eating eggs in front of the chick, though. It might have been his sibling.”

“There’s no chick,” he says, laughing again. “It was your own hair. I brushed it out of your face.”

“No way.”

He nods slowly. “Yes way. I had no idea that you have been pining away for a baby chick all this time. I would have gotten you one.”

“I don’t want one,” I reply. “I must have been dreaming about them.”

“About farm animals?”

“Maybe I was a farmer in my dream,” I reply and then smile when Simon laughs again. “It could happen.”

“Not in this life,” he replies and holds a forkful of eggs up for me to eat. “Here, no chicken siblings around to witness this.”

“You’re pretty good at this breakfast thing,” I say as I chew and hold a piece of bacon up for him to bite. “And I like you well enough to share my bacon.”

“How kind of you,” he says and takes a bite, then the whole piece, practically biting my fingers.

“Hey, you took all of it.”

“There’s more.”

My landline begins to ring, but I shake my head. “Ignore that.”

“Happily.” He smears strawberry jam on toast and holds it to my lips. “Here’s something sweet.”

I take a bite, sure to get the sugary jam on my lips, then lean in and kiss him, grinning when he licks my lips clean.

“You taste delicious,” he murmurs.

“It’s the jam.”

“That’s good too.”

My cell phone pings with several incoming texts.

“Seriously, ignore it. It’s my day off. If the shop is on fire, it’s just going to burn.”

His brows climb into his hairline.