La Vie en Rose {Life in Pink}

  She smiled and held it to her nose, breathing it in—

  “Uh, hello? We have time to sniff the clothing later.”

  She blushed. “Sorry. Pants?”

  He tossed her a pair of nondescript pajama bottoms. Stepping into them, she cinched the drawstring to keep them up. Sliding the shirt over her shoulders, she quickly fastened the buttons and stilled when she found him staring at her. “What?”

  His head dipped to the side. “You look hot in my clothes.”

  “Riley?” Rarity called. “Hello? Em? Anyone home?”

  “Your hair’s wet,” she whispered.

  “So?”

  “So we both can’t go out there with wet hair. She’ll know we showered together.”

  “I’m pretty sure we’ve had wet hair at the same time before and no one jumped to that conclusion.”

  “Just cover your head!”

  He rolled his eyes. “Fine.” Snatching a knit winter hat off his bedpost he shoved it on his head.

  Emma stilled. It was a sock monkey face, complete with ears and button eyes and a tail sticking out the back of his head. He looked like one of Nurse Ratchet’s patients, escaped from the cuckoo’s nest. “Where did you get that?”

  “You don’t want to know.”

  “You’re probably right. I’ll go out first.”

  Cracking open his bedroom door, she spotted Rarity going through mail at the front table. Emma quickly slid into the hall. “Hey!”

  “Hey, toots!” Rarity tossed the mail aside to hug her. “What the hell happened in here?”

  Emma turned and snatched her robe off the stool, tossing it behind a chair. “What do you mean?”

  “What’s all over the counter? Is that jelly?”

  “Jam,” Riley corrected, walking out of his room, nonchalant expression on his face. “Welcome home.”

  “Thanks,” Rarity said, a look of confusion on her face. “What the hell are you wearing and why is there jam everywhere?”

  “This is my lucky sock hat, what?” he stated with absolute seriousness. “And there’s jam everywhere because I made a bagel.”

  She frowned and shook her head. “Whatever. You’re cleaning this up.”

  “How was the shoot?” Emma asked, drawing her attention away from the disaster they’d left in the kitchen. Her toe casually nudged her purse under the table as her eyes widened, her foot subtly covering the condom wrapper.

  “The shoot was good. I got a lot of nice pictures and made some good connections. I’m exhausted. As fancy as that hotel was, I missed my bed. I think I’m going to unpack later. All I want to do is curl up on my own mattress and sleep for a few hours.”

  “That sounds like a nice plan. Maybe later we can grab dinner,” Emma offered.

  “Sure.” Rarity studied her for a moment. “You look...really good, Em. I’m glad you’re off the couch. I’m not real sure about this,” she waved a finger at Emma’s outfit, “but your eyes look happy.”

  “I am happy. Becket did me a favor.”

  “Yeah.” She nodded. “Okay, I’m going to lie down. We’ll talk about this more over a bottle of wine later.”

  “Okay. We’ll keep it down so you can rest.” They smiled as Rarity disappeared down the hall. “That wasn’t so hard,” Emma whispered.

  A blood-curdling scream broke the silence followed by three hearty barks and the sound of Marla charging down the hall. The frightened dog barreled into Riley and cowered at his feet.

  Rarity stumbled into view, eyes bulging as she raised an accusing finger at the dog. “What the hell is that?”

  “Oh, we got a dog,” Riley explained. “Marla, this is Rarity. Rarity, meet Marla Hooch. She really likes your bed.”

  Shaking her head, she waved a finger. “Absolutely not. No dogs.”

  “Well, we voted and...”

  Rarity looked at Emma. “You want this animal in our home?”

  “She’s really not that bad. All she does is sleep. She only gets excited when you talk to her or take her anywhere or bring out food or—”

  Rarity threw up her hands. “Unbelievable.” Shaking her head, she snickered. “I get it. You two are all Harry met Sally now and my opinion counts for nothing. Well, I don’t want a dog. They’re shaggy, they shed, they’re noisy, and they smell bad.”

  Riley gasped. “Marla smells like a dream,” he argued indignantly.

  Rolling her eyes, Emma attempted to pacify her friend. “We’ll try to keep her away from your stuff, Rarity.”

  She scowled at Riley. “This has your stank all over it. You couldn’t have brought home a houseplant or a fish. No, you get a hundred pound beast.”

  “She was homeless,” he hollered as she marched away. “Where’s your sense of compassion?”

  “I don’t have one.” The door slammed.

  Emma looked up at Riley. “Do you think she’ll make us get rid of Marla?”

  “No, but I think you should come back to bed with me while she’s napping.”

  “Riley.” She shook her head and yipped when he scooped her up and tossed her over his shoulder. “What about the mess?”

  He swatted her bottom. “Shhh. She’ll hear you. Keep quiet and no one’ll get hurt.”

  She silently laughed as he lugged her back to his room, Marla watching with a curious look of confusion and longing as the door closed behind them.

  Chapter Eight

  “It’s like having a show horse,” Riley decided as he brushed Marla’s flank.

  His sister rolled her eyes. “Someone should tell the village we found their idiot.”

  Emma kept quiet, but he caught her little smirk. She didn’t think he was an idiot. Over the past several weeks of their double o’seven affair she made him feel more like a god than anything else—sex god, that was.

  “I hate that dog,” Rarity grumbled.

  “For your information, Marla loves you, Rarity. It’s cruel and hurtful for you not to reciprocate her affection.”

  “I still have pictures of that crotch sniffer online, so I wouldn’t get too attached if I were you.”

  “Too late.” Slipping Marla a treat, he petted her heavy head. If no one called about Marla by now, she was staying. “There’s a pretty girl. Now go give Aunt Rarity some love. She likes when pretty girls lick her.”

  “Don’t be jealous—Oh, yuck!” His sister groaned as Marla shoved her face in her lap, but Riley caught the tender way she stroked the dog’s ears. She was full of crap. She liked Marla.

  Lexi laughed. “Come here, Marla. You can lay with me.”

  The dog trotted over to Lexi and Rarity rolled her eyes. “You’re as bad as them.”

  His focus shifted when he noticed Emma looking for her shoes. “Where are you going?”

  She paused at the door. Today she wore a teal sundress with red ballet slipper type shoes to match her cardigan. She looked hot and he wanted to do stuff to her.

  “What are you, her keeper?” Rarity asked.

  Emma drew in a deep breath, but kept her expression neutral. “I was going to the market to get some groceries. We’re almost out of bananas and I need shampoo.”

  “Can you get me some new razors?” Rarity asked.

  “Yeah. Do you need anything, Riley?”

  He needed her—needed her in a bad way. It had been almost four days since they’d last slept together due to womanly things and he’d grown quite used to their regular schedule. On top of that, Rarity had been monopolizing all of Emma’s time and he was starting to get jealous. “Yeah. I...maybe I’ll just go with you.”

  “Really?” Both Emma and Rarity asked at the same time.

  “Yeah. I haven’t been to the market in... six years.” He nodded. “I’m due.”

  “Okay. Get your shoes.”

  Shoving out of the chair, his feet fit into his shoes as he patted his pockets. Phone. Wallet. Golden. He met Emma at the elevator, giddy to finally have some Emma time to himself.

  “She’s totally freaked out you’re goi
ng with me.”

  “Why?” He pushed the button for down. “Lexi’s there. Maybe I just wanted to give them some privacy.”

  “Because you never do the food shopping.”

  He shrugged. “Maybe I don’t like the raisins you buy.”

  She shook her head and stepped inside, pressing the button for the bottom floor. The metal doors glided shut and the elevator moved. His finger stabbed the stop button and the cart jerked to a halt.

  “Riley, what are you doing?”

  Grabbing her arms, he pinned them above her head on the wall, eyes rolling back with anticipation as he breathed her in. “Elevator sex.” His mouth crashed over hers and she moaned.

  He unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants. Hiking up her dress, he reached down the front of her panties and tested her arousal. She was soaked. He chuckled, and bit her lip. “Dirty girl.”

  “I’ve been dying to be alone with you,” she breathed, pulling his hair and shoving his face to her breasts.

  Elated to be reacquainted with her body, he kissed her and mumbled, “Between my stupid sister and your stupid job I never get to be alone with you.”

  She bit his neck. “I’ll quit and become a hobo. We can have all the sex you want, but you’ll have to pay my phone bill and share of the rent.”

  He shoved her panties down her legs and she awkwardly stepped out of them. He pocketed the white cotton. “I’ll pay whatever you want. God, I love your boobs.”

  He slipped a finger into her sex and she moaned. He chuckled, “Shhh...sound travels.”

  “I don’t care,” she hissed, shoving his shirt out of the way and reaching in his pants. He loved when she was aggressive. He sucked on the soft side of her breast as she stroked him. “Lift me up.”

  “So demanding,” he teased. Holding her by the ribs, he lifted and she wrapped her legs around him. He aligned their bodies and thrust deep.

  “Yes!”

  “It’s gonna be quick, Em.”

  “Just do it.”

  She rode him hard and fast, her nails digging into his shoulders through his shirt as she panted out his name. It had been six weeks since they’d started sneaking around and their flame had yet to flicker. She was as insatiable and adventurous as he was when it came to bedsport and he’d never been happier.

  “Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!” Her mouth latched onto his neck as her body contracted around him. Her orgasm milked his release as he pumped into her a few last times, trembling the way only she could make him tremble. Fuck. She was amazing.

  He lowered her feet to the ground and caught his breath. “You okay?”

  Gazing at him with half lidded eyes, she grinned. “Never better.” She brushed the wrinkles from her dress and fluffed her hair. “Where are my panties?”

  “In my pocket. I want them.” When he was with her he was a pervert like that—but only with her.

  “Let me see them.”

  Disappointed, he handed them over. She bunched up the fabric and used it to clean herself up. “Here you go.” He grinned as she handed them back. She so got him.

  Facing forward as if nothing happened, they hit the go button and the elevator jolted. They were so perfectly in sync they glanced at each other and snickered.

  On key, once they were a few blocks away from the loft, she laced her fingers with his. He was never one to hold hands, but with Emma, he liked touching her any way he could.

  “You know, one stiff breeze and everyone will see your bare bajingo.”

  She chuckled, chin high, seemingly unfazed by the possibility. Her confidence, this new level of coolness he’d never expected, filled him with an urge to take her all over again.

  When they reached the store he was on an endorphin high. While she behaved like a respectable adult, he acted like a toddler. “Can we get some licorice?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Put it in the cart.”

  As she selected limes he perused the options and paused, his mouth stretching into a juvenile smirk. “What is this?” He picked up the funny shaped orange.

  Tying off her bag of limes she frowned. “Isn’t it an orange?”

  “Nope!” He laughed, reading the sign. “It’s a kumquat.” Why this was so hysterical to him he hadn’t a clue.

  “Did you want some?”

  “Some kumquats? Who doesn’t? Kumquats. Ha. That’s the best fruit name I’ve ever heard.”

  She laughed and handed him a produce bag. “Here.”

  As they traveled the aisles, she never got annoyed with him, even when he couldn’t stop using kumquat in sentences. It was amazing. Sometimes he watched her and couldn’t figure out why anyone that sweet would want to waste time on him. She could have anyone. Grayson was a dick, but she could easily blend with those upper class yuppies and find herself a better blueblood to take her sailing.

  Who was he, a bartender with an unfinished degree? He had no clue where he was going or what he was working toward. The farthest he thought into his future was ten days, max.

  He didn’t have a five-year plan or one for however many years people were planning these days. The fact that he was dating Emma could have been deemed the eighth natural wonder of the world. There was simply no rational explanation for such an improbable thing.

  When she wasn’t looking he slipped a bottle of lube into the cart next to the obscenely large cucumber he’d snagged in the produce section. This was the shit he needed to stop doing. Emma was a grownup. Sure, she was two years younger than him, but she wouldn’t want to date some man child that got a kick out of oversize phallic produce and lube.

  He reached in and she turned. “Do you like this cereal?”

  Back stiff, hands innocently at his side, he nodded. He needed to get that crap out of the cart before she saw it. Panicking, he tried to distract her, but she kept piling food on top.

  “Will you grab tissues? I think we’re out.”

  Abandoning his search he nodded. “Sure. Tissues...” He grabbed three boxes and followed her to the last aisle.

  “I think I’m going to make Mexican this week. You like tacos, right?”

  “I like your taco.” Fuck. Why did he keep saying dumb shit like that?

  She shook her head.

  “Sorry.”

  She frowned. “Sorry for what?”

  “Calling your bajingo a taco.”

  She laughed. “Like you haven’t called it a hundred other weird things. I’m used to it, Riley.”

  He paused. “Really?”

  “Yeah. Why else would I let you name my boobs Starsky and Hutch?”

  “They do have streetwise mannerisms and sometimes perky moods.”

  “Exactly. I get it.”

  Feeling relieved, he asked, “It doesn’t get on your nerves?”

  “What?”

  “My...immaturity?”

  “If you’re immature, so am I. Look, stop freaking out about whatever you’re stressing over. We’re fine. You’re happy. I’m happy. You’ve got my underwear in your pocket. I’m shopping for tortillas commando. Sounds like a recipe for bliss if I’ve ever heard one.”

  Coolest. Chick. Ever. Maybe she was right. Maybe he was freaking out over nothing.

  They waited in line at the register and he fidgeted the moment the guy behind them started unloading his cart. Grocery stores made him claustrophobic. He continued to help her unpack their items on the belt while mentally telling the guy crowding his six to back off.

  When she discovered the enormous cucumber she held it up and arched a brow. “Did you put this in here?”

  “Uh...maybe.”

  She shook her head and tossed it on the belt then reached in the cart again, this time holding up the lube. “And this?”

  His neck prickled as the guy behind him scrutinized their order. “I’m a sophomoric man child,” he mumbled.

  She glanced at the bottle and picked up the cucumber again. “We can try it, but I don’t wanna hear you crying when you can’t walk right the next day.”

&nb
sp; And there it was...he loved her.

  She winked, tossing both items on the belt, careless of their proximity and what the clerk might assume. She was priceless, taking a practical joke and turning it back on him. A champion of sarcasm and wit, a master in the sack as well as the elevator, and sexy as sin with her Jessica Rabbit curves and tiny, deformed Frodo toes. In a word, she was perfect.

  Several things became incredibly clear as he acknowledged his love for Emma. One, he couldn’t let her go. Two, he needed to make sure he didn’t ruin this. Three, he had to play it cool so she didn’t freak out. And four, he wanted to hold her and smother her like a stage five clinger and do a million and one non-masculine things with her that definitely broke guy code.

  The bottom line, this relationship was suddenly the most important thing in the world to him, but could run so much smoother without him there to jeopardize it with all his stupid tendencies. Tendencies she was slowly learning to tolerate. Could she really be immune to all his idiosyncrasies? Perhaps find them cute, or would it only be a matter of time before he screwed up the greatest relationship he’d ever had?

  ****

  The moonlight slipped past the curtains and colored her skin a silver shade of blue. “How do you get your pillows to smell so good?”

  She chuckled and curled into him. “I wash them.”

  “I wash mine too.”

  “I do it regularly.”

  He breathed in the soft scent of her hair, loving the fact that he’d smell her on his skin well past morning. “Em?”

  “Yeah?”

  He kissed her ear. “Are you happy?”

  “Of course I’m happy.”

  “With me?”

  She turned and faced him. “What’s going on, Riley?”

  He didn’t like needing this much reassurance. “It’s been almost two months since you and Becket broke up.”

  “So?”

  The plan was for her to move out and marry the guy. How did she adjust from all that to this so smoothly? He was coming from the total opposite end of the spectrum and it was definitely surreal finding her in the middle. Yet she seemed to just accept what they’d created as if it were nothing out of the ordinary. But to Riley, it was extraordinary.

  “You probably would’ve been apartment hunting by now.”