And yet…he saw her. Not the money. Not the pedigree. Not the act. Her. She’d misjudged him so badly. How could she sit beside this amazing, astute man, and not feel physically ill at being poised to walk away?
“I hate this,” she burst out.
“I know.”
“You’re not going to try to talk me out of it?”
Reed glanced at her. “You know I want you to stay. My trying to guilt you into it would make me a selfish bastard and wouldn’t be a good foundation for any future relationship. Besides, you feel bad enough already.”
That was true enough. But it wouldn’t have stopped a lot of men.
“So no, no guilt trip. I’ve got something else in mind.”
“You do?” Her heart gave a hopeful leap. As he bypassed the turn for her street, she sat up a little straighter. “Where are we going?”
“Downtown. I thought we’d take a little walk. I think better when I’m moving.”
He parked at the far end of the green. Cecily slid out of his SUV and hunched into her coat at a sudden gust of wind, thinking that a single summer below the Mason-Dixon line had made her soft if she felt a chill in the low fifties. But, as the breeze ruffled her hair, she felt the first bite of true autumn on the air. Reed circled around and tucked her arm through his.
“Did you know Norah nearly walked away from Cam?”
Surprise had her step faltering. “What? Why?”
“Because she thought picking him would mean giving up her career. She is, as you well know, incredibly driven—you’re a lot alike in that respect. Cam’s more like me. Very rooted to life here. She couldn’t see how they could make it work and, frankly, neither could we.”
“We?” she asked.
“You’ve met my family. We were all up in the middle of that.”
She had no trouble whatsoever imagining it.
“I’m ashamed to say we didn’t exactly react positively when we found out the two of them were involved. Not because we didn’t love Norah—because we always have—but just because we worried it wouldn’t work, and we didn’t want to see either of them hurt. Which she absolutely knew. She gave a speech.”
Cecily laughed. “Of course she did.”
“It helped. We could see how much she cared for him. And we could also see how it was absolutely tearing her up, feeling like she had to choose.” He pulled her to a stop beside the fountain at the heart of town, taking both her hands in his. “You’ve got that same look.”
“I don’t have as many years of career invested as she did when Helios fired her, but yeah, I absolutely feel that. I’ve worked really hard to do what I’ve done, trying to live up to my family’s expectations and the burden of the family legacy. I don’t want to throw that away.” She squeezed his hands. “But I don’t want to throw this away either.”
“Do you think staying would be throwing it all away because you can’t see yourself living a small-town life long-term or because you don’t see how what you do is applicable here?” She opened her mouth to speak but he continued. “And I don’t ask that because I think you think less of small-town living. I know you don’t.”
She answered without hesitation. “If there was a job—a real job, with real potential and opportunities here—we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”
Some of the tension left him, and Cecily realized how rigidly controlled he’d been since dinner.
“Okay then.” He dug in his pocket and placed a quarter in her palm. “Make your wish.”
The metal was still warm from his body heat. Cecily looked at it, then back up at him. “Seriously?”
“You can’t live in a place like Wishful and not believe in the lore.”
When Norah had told her that the fountain was fed by nearby Hope Springs and had been granting wishes in one form or another since it was built just after the Civil War, Cecily had assumed it was just an adorable marketing spin on the town’s quirky name. But she’d learned that the locals, at least, believed. Did she?
“Why’s it my wish instead of yours?”
“I’m not the one at a crossroads.”
Cecily cupped the coin in her palm. If she wished for an answer, what would the fountain tell her? She wasn’t sure she really bought into the idea of wishes as anything more than a romantic notion, but Wishful was touted as the town where hope sprang eternal and she could sure as hell use some of that, so she figured it was worth a shot.
Which path am I meant to choose? She tossed the coin into the water. Not exactly the classic I wish formula, but none of the stories she’d heard since coming to Wishful specified that you had to ask a certain way.
They both watched until the ripples faded and the glint of treasure shone beneath the water’s surface.
“Now what?” she asked.
“Now we walk a little more.”
Reed obviously had something in mind so she linked her arm through his again, snuggling close for warmth, and followed his lead.
As they left the green, headed down Spring Street, he began again. “So I’ve already told you that my family was all up in the middle of Cam and Norah. We aren’t exactly known for our subtlety as a group. We all felt awful that Norah thought she had to defend her relationship with Cam, so since she couldn’t figure out how she could stay, we took it upon ourselves to come up with a plan.”
“Something other than her becoming the new City Planner?”
“Yeah, that wasn’t even on the table at that point. We were focused on proving that there was, in fact, a need for her services in a town of this size. So we utilized the groundwork and rapport she’d already built by starting the citizen’s coalition and reviving the Chamber of Commerce to secure letters of intent from almost every business in town, expressing interest in marketing services, should she decide to open her own firm. Uncle Pete pulled together all the paperwork necessary to file for a business license. Mitch drew up plans to renovate this place into her dream office.” Reed stopped in front of the old train station. “And we ran over her like a stampede of elephants.”
“How did she take that?”
“Oh she was gracious about it—she’s Norah, after all—and once she got over feeling backed into a corner, she really got into the idea. It’d never even crossed her mind to open her own firm. Obviously, this isn’t what she ended up doing. But there’s no reason why you couldn’t take the same plan and adapt it to you.”
Was he crazy? “Open my own firm? At twenty-four? With no professional reputation to speak of?”
“You have plenty of professional reputation here. You’re damned good at this kind of work, and you love doing it. There’s a documented need for the kind of services y’all can provide. It’s part of why Norah has those two days of open consult a week, even though it’s really more than she has time to deal with on top of being City Planner. And I know for a fact she’s been passing a lot of it off to you. It’s not the kind of corporate accounts you’d work with at Verdant, but it’s a different kind of challenge. One that appeals to you, or you wouldn’t have stayed here this far past the end of your internship.”
“Something like this would take considerable startup capital.”
“Which we both know you have, should you choose to use it.” He held up his hand for silence. “I know you don’t want to touch that money for yourself, but consider how many people you could help if you were properly set up. And it’s not like you have to do anything on a grand scale to start. There’s no rule book that says you have to have an office to accept clients right off. People like it if you come to them. Makes them feel important. And you’ve said yourself, you tend to get a better feel for a business when you spend some time there.”
Even as excitement began to hum in her blood, she had to force herself to slow down, consider all the angles.
“There’s one major problem with this scenario.”
“What’s that?”
“All those letters of intent are for Norah’s skills. I’m not Norah. I’d
never pretend to be.”
“You’re every bit as good as she is. Better, even, at some things.”
“That’s sweet, Reed, but you’re not exactly an unbiased party here.”
“I agree, but it’s not coming from me. Norah’s said so herself. Which is why she got these.” He reached into his coat pocket and handed her a folded sheaf of papers.
Cecily unfolded them. “What’s this?”
“Signatures from all the business owners in town who want to work with you. Not quite as comprehensive as what we pulled together before, but we were operating on a much shorter time-frame, with less manpower. I didn’t figure you’d appreciate being bowled over either, so I didn’t loop in the rest of the family. Still, it should be enough to prove viability of the concept.”
“Norah did this for me?”
“I thought it was my idea when I took it to her, but as usual, she was five steps ahead of me. She said she owed you. If I hadn’t brought it up, she would have.”
A hard knot lodged in Cecily’s throat as she stared at the list of names spanning more than three full sheets of paper.
She could stay.
She could do the work she loved, putting both her skills and her inheritance to good use helping people. Just like Norah, she could put her own mark on reviving this charming little town. And she could see where things went with this smart, funny, incredibly caring man, who’d gone to all this trouble to give her an option that would fit within her personal principles.
As the silence stretched out, Reed seemed to lose a little of his certainty. “You don’t have to give an answer right now. I know we’re not…things aren’t…I wouldn’t expect you to make a decision without going and doing the interview and taking time to gather all the facts. I just wanted to even the playing field and make sure you knew you had another choice.”
The knot in her throat dissolved, leaving a spreading warmth in her chest. Cecily rose to her toes, sliding her arms around his neck and bringing his face close to hers. “The only choice I’m concerned with right this moment is whose house is closer—yours or mine?”
~*~
“You’ll have to excuse the mess. If I’d known we were coming back here, I’d have picked up some.” Reed’s furtive glance around—checking for dirty laundry or who knew what—made Cecily grin.
“Unless you’ve been eating potato chips in bed and haven’t bothered to change the sheets, I really don’t care. I’m not here for the grand tour.” But, as it was her first time here, she looked her fill of Reed’s space.
The downtown apartment held the same cozy comfort of Inglenook, with a leather sofa and overstuffed chair flanked on all sides by bookcases. Huge, framed comic posters marched along one wall, and assorted action figures perched along shelves. No dirty laundry or stacks of take out containers littered the coffee table. Predictably, books were scattered on every horizontal surface, with bookmarks and sticky tabs bristling from most. She wondered how many of them he’d actually read.
“A fair chunk.”
“What?” she asked.
Reed slid her coat from her shoulders. “Everybody always wants to know how many of them I’ve read.”
“Considering it looks like you could open a second branch of Inglenook out of your living room, it’s a reasonable question.” There were even books lining shelves in the kitchen. Their spines made a colorful patchwork along the neutral walls.
“There’s no such thing as too many books,” he insisted. “Want wine?”
Wine was a delaying tactic, a chance to quiet nerves or back out. But Cecily was through hesitating. “Maybe later.” She turned into him, sliding her hands up to his shoulders.
Reed’s hands curved around her hips and held her where she stood, still a little apart from him. His hazel eyes searched hers. “Are you sure?”
She’d said as much by the fountain, but he wouldn’t be Reed if he wasn’t a gentleman to the last.
“I’m sure I want this. I want you.”
His eyes flared and his hands tightened as he stepped into her. Then his mouth was on hers and she realized how much he’d banked the heat the past few weeks. He went from zero to laser focused in 2.5 seconds. The floor seemed to tip beneath her feet, and she realized he was propelling them both across the room. Digging her heels in, she laid both hands against his chest. Reed stopped, pulling back to look at her in concern.
“Better idea,” she said and bounced up to wrap her legs around his waist.
“Definitely,” he breathed, then took her mouth again.
Freed of the burden of balance, Cecily threaded her fingers through his hair and slanted her head to take the kiss deeper. The hardness behind his fly rubbed against her center as he walked, a delicious preview of things to come. They bumped up against something. She felt the press of a shelf against her shoulder and dropped her head back with a moan. “How did you know I had a fantasy about you and me and a bookcase?”
He chuckled against her throat. “Did you now?” His tongue skated along the length of her collar bone.
“God, yes. Ever since that day I bought Blair’s birthday present.”
“I’ll file that away for another time,” he promised. “Tonight, I want you in my bed.”
Something snicked and the press of the bookcase fell away.
“What the—?” Cecily turned her head to see the bookcase opening into a passageway. “Shut up. Your bedroom is behind a hidden door?”
Reed laughed. “I wanted to maximize shelf space along this wall, so yeah, I installed a bookcase on the door. The hidden passage effect is a bonus.”
“Definite bonus,” she declared as he carried her down the short hall, past a bathroom and into the bedroom.
He tumbled them both onto the mattress, nipping at her bottom lip before rolling away. Cecily made a sound of protest.
“I want to see you,” he said.
A lamp flicked on. She blinked a bit as her eyes adjusted, then noticed the faint look of horror on his face. “What is it?”
“I…um…wasn’t expecting company.”
Cecily looked down at the bed and saw the Batman sheets.
“They were a gag gift from Mitch. I didn’t see any reason for perfectly good sheets to go to waste.” His ears had gone adorably pink.
She reached out and curled her fingers around his belt, tugging him back toward her. “Somehow I don’t think it’s the Dark Knight who’s rising at the moment.” To illustrate the point, she rubbed her knuckles down the erection straining his jeans.
Reed made a strangled noise. “Vixen.”
Cecily only grinned and began to work at his belt.
He shook his head and backed out of reach. “Nope. Ladies first.”
He crouched down, taking hold of her boots and pulling her toward the edge of the bed. Releasing one, he ran his hands along her calf to where the zipper started. Cecily felt the burn of his touch even through the leather.
“Do you have any idea what kind of fantasies I’ve had about these boots?”
“The kind that will, I hope, someday combine really well with mine about the bookcase.”
“Wasn’t even in the top five, but now that you mention it...” His gaze ran up the length of her, and the look in his eyes had her wishing she was wearing a skirt instead of skinny jeans.
He took his time, unzipping one boot with such slow, deliberate focus she felt like he’d exposed more than her pant leg by the time he slipped it off. Why, oh why, hadn’t she worn a skirt tonight? He finished with the second boot and set the pair of them neatly aside. Jesus, even the sight of him being neat was a turn on. Or maybe it was that now that they were here, in his room, in his bed, he didn’t seem to be in any particular hurry. Like they had all night. Or forever. And because of his planning, they did.
Something shifted in Cecily’s chest, a last piece of her heart cracking open as he crawled beside her on the bed. She was in love with him. She was in love with him, and he’d given her the means to stay. There
was no more reason to hesitate, no more reason to hold back.
She wrapped her arms around him, pulling his lips back to hers as she poured out everything she wasn’t quite ready to say. He met her heat in equal measure, hands touching, taking, working some kind of magic on buttons and zippers, until the warmth of his palm skimmed across her belly and lower, beneath the edge of her bikini briefs.
“Oh!” She’d been about to say something, but the moment his fingers cupped her sex, every thought melted right out of her head, save one. “More.”
She arched into his touch, maddened by the pressure of his hand trapped against her. The jeans limited his movement, but oh, dear Lord, what he managed to do with just a little friction. She wanted the jeans off, but that required more coordination than she could manage just now and his fingers felt so damned good… Her body bowed as she shot over the first peak.
Reed eased his hand out of her pants. She was too insensible to speak a word of protest. By the time she came down enough to form a coherent thought, they were both naked and she was wondering how the hell a bookseller had a body like this. Running her hands over the abs she hadn’t stopped dreaming about since summer, Cecily decided her comparison to Steve Rogers hadn’t been far off the mark. She straddled his body and stretched out, glorying in the feel of all his long, lean muscles as she kissed her way along the tendons of his throat.
“So patient,” she murmured, giving a little nip at the shell of his ear, then kissing to soothe the sting.
His hands tightened on her thighs.
“It’s one of the things I admire about you. But here’s the thing.” She wriggled until she could rub the length of him through her slick folds. Definitely not enough. “I’m not.”
“Thank Christ.” He cupped her nape and pulled her firm against him as he rolled. With one hand, he groped in the nightstand drawer, finally coming up with a condom.
Cecily took it from him, ripping it open and rolling it on. Her eyes met his as she took him in her hand and guided him inside. Reed breathed her name, muscles tensing as he began the slow thrust and retreat, until he filled her completely.