Live for Me (12 page)

“Just this.”

And he bent down and kissed me.

I kept my eyes open until the very last second, because I wanted to watch the desire in his gaze, I wanted to let him see mine back, before allowing them to drift shut. He was a beautiful man, features strong, unusual. Maybe he wasn’t traditionally attractive, but to me, he epitomized a strong, sexy man. His mouth brushed mine, briefly, not tentative, but teasing. Just a hint, a whisper, then he was gone, lips hovering over mine, his warm breath caressing me. His thumb stroked my cheek and he kissed first the right corner of my mouth, then the left.

“God,” he breathed. “I’ve been wanting to touch you so much. I’ve been fantasizing about kissing you. But I didn’t want to ruin things. I didn’t want to take what I don’t deserve.”

Giving in to my urge, I pulled my hand from his and slid it up his chest, feeling the contours of his body. He was warm beneath his T-shirt. Hard. Sighing in pleasure, I kept going, up to his beard scruff. It was softer than I expected. He was watching me, not speaking, his grip on my waist tightening. Instinctively, without thought or planning or concern for the consequences, I moved my hand into his hair, and guided his head back towards mine.

That hadn’t been enough. Not after three weeks of teasing.

This time, I kissed him, and it wasn’t light. It was a desperate, urgent press, lips open. He groaned in the back of his throat right as the music swelled around us in a fast-paced crescendo. Devin yanked me against him and I collided with his chest, felt his erection against my thigh. Desire clouded my judgment, yet fear prevented me from fully falling over the edge of no return. More than a kiss was more than I could handle until I knew what we were doing.

I tore myself away from him, panting, fingers gripping his shirt. “I like this song.”

He gave a harsh laugh. “God, you’re killing me. Now go away before I do something we both regret.”

He sounded surly and bitter. It made me smile. “What would I regret, Devin? Explain it to me.”

“This. Us.”

“What us? Us kissing? Or more than that?”

He gave an exasperated groan. “Tiffany. Leave me alone.”

That was so ridiculous I knew there was no pressing him any further right then. He had retreated behind his emotional wall.

So I let it go. It was enough that he’d kissed me, enough that I could still taste him on my lips. Enough to know that slowly, surely, he was caving.

“Sure. I’m fixing lunch if you want to come down and eat.”

“No, I do not. I’m busy.” He physically shifted me away from him.

I ducked my head so he wouldn’t see my possibly smug smile. He didn’t trust himself around me, and that was seriously hot. Plus he was working on a song inspired by me. “Can I at least meet Cat in town then? I can ride my bike.”

“It’s twenty degrees outside.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“I’ll drive you.” He had sat back down and crossed his arms, a scowl on his face. “Give me two hours.”

“Thanks.” Then with a boldness I didn’t know I had I bent down and kissed him again. It was meant to be a light tease, a thank you, a see you in a bit, but Devin put his hand firmly on my ass and hauled me up against him.

He devoured my mouth. He kissed me like he hadn’t touched a woman in a decade. Like I was everything.

I clung to his shoulders and let him sweep me under, with his lips, his tongue. He teased, he took, he tasted, and no fumbling kiss I’d had before could have ever prepared me for that. I felt it everywhere. From the roots of my hair to my tingling breasts, to my aching inner thighs. I felt alive, my skin sensitive, body deeply and fully aware of him.

He broke off and studied my face, his breathing heavy. “You have two choices. Go downstairs and make lunch.”

When he didn’t continue, I raised my eyebrows. “That’s only one choice.”

But he shook his head, his eyes dark and full of lust. “The other one isn’t an option. Never mind.”

“Why not?” I knew what he was thinking, knew him so well now I could practically hear his thoughts. Option two was I could climb on his lap and we would have sex, right there, right then.

He was right. It wasn’t really an option. I wasn’t ready for that. I wanted to with every fiber of my being. But at the same time I was terrified. My experience was too limited for this position. For now.

“Sometimes I have the ability to stop my selfish tendencies. Not always. But sometimes. One step at a time, ma petite amie.”

He’d retreated to the friend title again. I could live with that. Because he was right. One step at a time.

But what he wasn’t realizing was that I had infinite patience. I’d spent day in and day out for the last four years taking care of an old woman who hated me and I hadn’t gone insane. I could wait for him to grapple with his conscience and conclude that he could have sex with me and still live with himself.

Given the look on his face, I wouldn’t have long to wait.

“I’ll bring you up a sandwich,” I said, shifting out of his touch.

His sour look almost made me laugh.

He turned back to his computer. “You’re dismissed, Tiffany.”

Asshole worked well on him. There was no way I was going to let it affect me though, not when I knew the truth. “Of course, Mr. Gold. Let me know if there’s anything you need.”

The look he shot me was filled with desire. “We’re not doing this. We can’t do this.”

“What is that?” I asked, faking innocence. “What are we doing?”

He made a sound of exasperation. “You know what I’m talking about.”

Of course I did. We’d been heading towards this for weeks. But he had to say it. He’d yet to say it. And I wasn’t filling in the blanks for him.

He leaned in, then tore himself away. He was fighting against it because he was afraid of other people’s opinions, or maybe his own morality. It was possible he was worried he would hurt me. That I would assume too much. Become a clinger. Maybe he didn’t know what he wanted aside from what he thought he couldn’t have.

“Using last names again?” I asked, staring at him boldly.

There was more than one way for me to put us on equal footing. He wasn’t going to put this on me. It was his choice. Mine was already made.

“No, we’re not using last names.” He rubbed his jaw. “Beyond that I don’t have a fucking clue.”

“Yes, you do.” With that, I left the room. He was in. I could feel in the shift of his body towards me. That wasn’t a one-time kiss. He wanted more. He wanted me, beyond just the physical. Maybe in spite of me physically not being his type.

Let him define us later.

For now, I would just wait and let him be the boss.

In every sense.

“He’s playing with you,” Cat told me bluntly, sitting across from me in the coffee shop.

“Cat, that’s a little harsh,” Heath told her, looking shocked. “I’m sure Tiffany knows what she’s doing.”

I was telling them my plans to stay at Richfield for Christmas and it had not gotten a positive reception. I hadn’t given full disclosure but I did admit there was something going on between us, I just didn’t know what. Cat’s assessment of Devin made me blush with anger and humiliation. “I’m not an idiot. I know that he’s not going to marry me,” I said. “He’s bored, he’s feeling restless and over the whole New York thing. We’re alone together all the time and I’m a novelty. A nut he wants to crack.” I ran my finger over the rim of my coffee mug. “The weird shut-in girl. He just finds it fascinating that I haven’t been more than twenty miles away from home my entire life.”

But he did genuinely like me. I believed that without a doubt. Yet something about her reaction made me want to keep the true nature of my feelings a secret. It was just between me and Devin. It was too new, too fragile, too… special. What happened at Richfield was our world, our secret, our relationship.

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be a prick about it,” she said, sounding contrite. “I’m just worried about you.”

“I know.” I did. And she was right to be worried. I knew it. Even if it made my chest tight and my palms sweaty. I knew that eventually Devin would go back to New York and I couldn’t go with him. “But while I might fantasize, I’m not an idiot. I’m going to take advantage of an opportunity that might never present itself to me ever again.”

“You’re always saying she’s practical,” Heath said to Cat. Then he studied me. “But Tiffany, seriously, you don’t have the experience this guy does. You might get hurt, you know.”

“Oh, I think it’s pretty much a guarantee I’ll get hurt.” I smiled at them. “But I know what I’m doing. For whatever reason he does like me, for now. Today. Tomorrow or the day after or the day after that he’ll get tired of me. I know that. But I can’t help it. He fascinates me.”

He did. I knew his scent now, his laugh, his movements, expressions. He was surly and brusque, but he was also kind and generous. He was an introvert in an extroverted profession, and mistakenly or not I felt like he showed me a side not everyone saw. The real Devin. Not G Daddy. And I liked Devin. I liked him in a way that my insides warmed when I saw him, and my thoughts went all soft and sweet, like I was continually stroking a kitten. I wasn’t a sentimental person. Heath was right about Cat’s assessment of me. I was practical.

But Devin brought out something more in me. He made me feel like a woman. Like all of those feelings and needs and desires that I had suppressed couldn’t be contained anymore. They had to breathe, out in the open.

Cat sighed. “Everything in me is saying run away as fast as you can. But I know you. You’ve made up your mind to stick it out.”

She did know me. “I have.”

“Even knowing you’ll get hurt?”

I had a card to play and I pulled it. “Did the possibility of getting hurt stop you from being with Heath?”

“Whoa,” he said. “How did I get pulled into this?” Heath was a fisherman and a former Marine, and he was wearing a flannel shirt. Not the hipster variety with skinny jeans, but a working man’s flannel. He put his hands up before reaching for his coffee. “I say do whatever you want except for any illegal drugs.”

“That’s your advice?” Cat looked at him in exasperation. Then to me, she gave a half smile. “And no, nothing would have stopped me from being with Heath. But that was different.”

“How?” I wasn’t trying to be a bitch any more than she was trying to be a prick, but that was bullshit. We all entered into a relationship, or whatever the hell you wanted to call it, with someone knowing there was a very distinct possibility we could get hurt. I knew Devin was going to return to New York and forget I existed. For the most part. But Cat had gone back to Heath after he had disappeared on her for four years, so what was the difference?

None.

“He’s rich. And older.”

“I am?” Heath joked.

Cat made a face. “Guys like that do whatever they want.”

“I think he just walked in,” Heath commented in a low voice.

“What?” I swiveled around. He was right. Devin had walked into the shop, and was impatiently sweeping his gaze around the room. I raised my hand in greeting when he spotted me. “I wonder why he’s back so soon.”

I had only been there for forty-five minutes and he’d said he would be back in two hours. The coffee shop was a local place, not a chain, and it was filled with moms, fishermen, and retired people. Devin stood out from the regulars and a half dozen pair of eyes watched him cross the room. The one thing he didn’t have to worry about was someone local reporting his movements to online media sites. Mainers were big on live and let live. They wouldn’t give a shit what a guy from New York was doing, though they would stare at him suspiciously.

“What does he want from you, seriously?” Cat asked, urgently. “He could have sex with anyone.”

“Exactly,” I told her. “He could. That’s not what he wants. He wants a friend.”

“With benefits.”

Yes. But it was more complicated than that. I thought. I shot her a look that was meant to mean “behave” and glanced back to smile at him.

When he reached us, he put his hand on the back of my chair. “Hey, Tiff.” Then he turned and introduced himself to Cat and Heath, sticking his hand out to shake.

Heath stood up to meet the handshake firmly and I felt them sizing each other up in that way that guys do. I looked to Cat in amusement, but she was making a sour face at Devin. I could tell she was shocked by his appearance. She knew he was thirty, but I had reassured her he wasn’t anywhere near approaching creeper status. There were different kinds of thirty, though, and Devin didn’t have a boyish face. It was the kind of face that would have looked mature for his age even at fifteen. He didn’t have dimples or sparkling eyes or a boyish charm. He was all rough edges and hard angles. He was the boss. It was obvious.

After everyone had said hello, he glanced at the table in front of me. “You’re not drinking any coffee?”

I shook my head. I’d only brought five bucks and I’d already drank it in the form of a latte.

But Devin knew me well enough to see through that. “You’re a coffee junkie. What do you want? I’ll go get it.”

“I’m fine.”

He rolled his eyes. Then asked Cat and Heath, “Do you need anything?”

They shook their head. “No, thanks,” Cat said.

He squeezed my shoulder and went to the register to order. I was blushing. I could feel the heat in my cheeks. I wasn’t even sure why. Maybe it was just that Devin had been my secret until an hour ago. Having my friends meet him made my infatuation feel as foolish as they seemed to think it was.

I didn’t look like I belonged with him. I looked like the kid he was fostering in the Big Brother program, despite what Devin said. He saw me differently from everyone else.

“What are we supposed to say to him?” Cat whispered.

I shrugged. “Anything you want.”

“Can I ask him if he knows Beyoncé?”

“Very funny.”

“What?” She smirked at me. “He knows celebrities. Don’t tell me you haven’t asked that.”

“I haven’t. He has occasionally mentioned people in passing, but he uses their real names, like Sean and Stephanie and Lizzie, so I think I know who he’s talking about, but I’m not going to ask. It’s awkward.”