“Are you telling me you’re going to hold out on me?”
I kiss the tip of her nose and fall to the mattress, cuddling her close to my chest. Whispering in her ear, I say, “Believe me, this will be much harder on me than it will be on you.”
“You don’t have to be a gentleman with me, Stryder.”
I’m not dumb, I know she is aware of my reputation, of the man I was when she met me, of the man I was when she was dating Colby. But with her, I’m different, and I want different things. I don’t want her body alone; I want her mind and her soul.
I kiss the side of her head and whisper, “For the first time in my life, Rory, I want to be the gentleman you deserve.”
“What if you’re already what I think I deserve? What if you already check off every box on my list?” She turns into me, hand to my chest. “You don’t have to prove anything to me, Stryder. I like you for who you are, not for who you can be, or who you’re striving to be. I like the layers that made you into the man you are, lying next to me, gorgeous and battered with a side of baggage locked up tight. I like that you are rough around the edges, a little jagged, and gruff at times, because I know, deep in my heart, under all the bravado and scars, there is a beautiful man who cares so deeply about not only me, but my family and friends, and that’s what matters to me. I don’t need to be courted. I like you . . . for you.” She pats my chest, right above my wildly beating heart.
If I weren’t already madly in love with this woman, I would be now. She makes me feel whole, worth something, a contradiction to everything my father has ever said to me.
And when the time comes that I can tell her that, when I can tell her I’ve been in love with her for a long time, I’m going to make it my mission to show her she’s the reason I’ve been able to remember what breathing feels like. She’s the reason I see the vibrancy of the world around me.
“Why do you have that smile on your face?” Rory asks, coming out of the bathroom looking so goddamn good in a pair of leggings and black shirt with a picture of a taco on it that I want to forget my plans for this morning and toss her back on the bed.
I motion with my finger for her to come to me. She smiles wickedly, hangs up her towel she was scrunching her hair with and closes the space between us where she sits on my lap, her arms instinctively wrapping around my neck.
“Can you blame me for having a smile on my face?” I press a chaste kiss across her lips. “You laid down a Bridget Jones line on me last night.”
She raises a brow, a smile playing at her lips. “Care to explain?”
“You like me for who I am,” I note the famous line from the movie.
She shakes her head. “No, care to explain why you know that movie, let alone the lines in it.”
I chuckle. “You have so much to learn about me.” I wiggle my eyebrows and pat her ass. “Come on, I’m taking you out on our first official date.”
Her eyes widen. “Really? First official date, in the morning?”
I shrug and scoot her off my lap as I stand, but link my hand with hers so as not to lose our connection. “I’m unconventional. Plus I’ve been wanting to take you here ever since I told you about it.”
“And where is that exactly?”
“You’ll see.”
I pocket my wallet in my jeans, grab the keys to my Jeep, lock up, and lead her down the stairway, in complete awe that I’m taking Rory out on a date, that I get to hold her hand, that I get to kiss her when I want to. It’s all still trying to sink in.
Not sure it ever will.
Once in the car and on the road, Rory fiddles with the radio until she finds a song she likes. She rolls down the window, lets the wind whip through her hair, and starts belting out “Versace on the Floor”. Snapping her finger, she really gets into the song, bringing a giant smile to my face.
Chuckling, I say, “You’re so much better than Bruno Mars.”
“You think?”
“Oh one hundred percent. His voice doesn’t crack like yours, the song is much better off pitch.”
Her mouth falls open, humor playing across her eyes as she leans over the center console and pinches my side. “You jerk!”
“Hey, watch it, I’m driving.” I laugh, swatting her away.
“I can’t believe you said I’m a bad singer.”
I shake my head. “No, I said I liked it.”
“It was a back-handed compliment, Stryder Sheppard.”
Laughing even more, I turn the music off and say, “This is how much I like your singing, I want you to sing the song acapella to me.”
“Oh nooo you don’t. No way in hell I’m singing in front of you again.”
“Come on, I’ll sing with you.”
She folds her arms across her chest. “Just so you can rub it in that you have a better voice?”
I cock an eyebrow in her direction. “You think I have a good voice?”
She rolls her eyes, “How did this turn into an insult for me, a compliment for you.”
“I said I liked your voice.” I laugh as she tries to pinch me again.
I make a left turn into a parking lot and briefly watch Rory as her eyes light up and a smile falls across her lips. She turns toward me, excited as I park in front of a very familiar, white, orange, and pink building.
“You brought me to Amy’s Donuts.”
I sure as hell did.
I take the key out of the ignition and turn toward her where I cup her cheek. “It’s been a place where I go when I want to be alone, when I need to think. I don’t want it to be about that anymore. I want it to be more than my solace, I want it to be filled with happy memories too, so I figured bringing you here for our first date would make some of the best memories.”
She leans her cheek into my hand and says, “I could not be happier right now. With you, here, opening up to me. You make me happy, Stryder.”
If only she knew how goddamn happy she makes me by just being in the same room as me.
“You make me happy, too.” I press a soft kiss on her lips, lingering for a few seconds, my tongue parting her mouth. She groans and reaches around me for more but I stop her. “If we begin that, we’ll never make it inside.”
“Making out is better than donuts.”
“Agreed, but remember, I’m wooing you.”
She groans in frustration. “Fine.” She playfully smiles. “Woo me.”
We exit the car and when we reach the shop, I open the door for her, letting the smell of freshly fried donuts hit us square in the chest. The smell familiar and comforting.
I take in the glass case full of different flavors from traditional to wildly original. Heavy toppings like Twix and Snickers grace the tops of some donuts while some are just simply glazed. It’s a donut lover’s paradise in here and the place I used to call my second home, especially when my dad was on a war path.
I lean over and whisper in her ear, “Want the Stryder special?”
“I really do.” She links her hand with mine and leans into my body as I order a half dozen donuts; two Elvis donuts, two Fruity Pebbles and two German chocolate glaze. We grab two milks and head over to the corner table, thankfully it’s open. I lay out napkins for the both of us and pop open the box.
I swear it almost feels like light flies out of the box while angels sing above us. That’s how good these donuts are.
Cutely, she rubs her hands together and asks, “Where do we get started?”
“Fruity Pebbles, it’s always the first.” I pick one up and hand it to her and then grab mine.
I go to take a bite when she stops me. “Hold on a second. We should cheers our donuts. It’s our first date after all.”
A smirk pulls at my lips as my heart thuds in my chest for this woman. She’s so adorably sweet and beautiful. I don’t know how it happened, but I don’t think I’ve ever felt luckier.
And even though there is a small voice in the back of my head telling me this is wrong, that I shouldn’t be this fucking happy with my be
st friend’s ex-girl, but I can’t stop myself from falling further and further in love with her.
I straighten up, “Okay, let’s cheers.” I hold my donut out to her and she clinks mine with hers. “To . . .” I draw a blank.
“To the start of something great,” she finishes for me with a wink and then adds, “And may you not hold out on me for too long.”
I laugh out loud as she takes a bite of her donut, eyes closing, complete ecstasy crossing over her face. Her look of pleasure just about killing me as she sinks down in her chair.
Christ, this is a first for me, a hard on in Amy’s donuts.
“I think I’m in trouble.” She talks to the donut, savoring every bite.
Yeah, I think I’m in trouble too, but for entirely different reasons.
Chapter Twenty
RORY
I practically sprint up the stairs, desperate to see him, desperate to capture another one of his kisses, desperate to hear his voice rumble over my body.
It’s been a month of playing it by Stryder’s rules, and I’m about to lose my mind. I hate that he’s still staying with Ryan for the entire week. He doesn’t come over on Thursday or leave Tuesday. No, he’s stuck to his normal schedule, and it’s driving me crazy. And FaceTime? Forget about it, because he won’t do it. He won’t even text. It’s like he’s trying to torture me. He leaves our conversations to nighttime phone calls—phone calls that last a few hours and consist of me lying on my bed, letting his seductive voice wash over me, sending tingles up and down my spine every time.
I’m at the end of my tether. I need something more than just kissing, and make no mistake; I plan on getting something more than his perfect mouth on mine tonight.
Opening the door, I am greeted by Ryan and her new guy of the month . . . uh, Chad . . . I think? It was Brad and now it’s Chad. Which has been super fun. Stryder called him Brad once by accident and the guy has been a dick to him ever since. It’s not Stryder’s fault. It’s Ryan’s, she needs to find men whose names don’t rhyme. We are bound to make mistakes.
“Hey you. Chinese is on its way. Got you the lettuce wraps, so I hope that’s okay.”
I set my purse down in the entryway and look around for Stryder. “Lettuce wraps are great.”
“Chad paid for everyone.”
Giving them my attention since we’re already on thin ice with Chad, I say, “Thank you so much. Do you want me to chip in anything?”
He waves his hand at me. “No, I have money to spend. I know you don’t.”
Hmm . . . I wonder why we don’t get along with Chad. It’s just so strange to me.
Ignoring the pompous ass, I look down the hallway just in time to see Stryder pop out of the bathroom carrying his folded uniform and dressed in a casual pair of khaki shorts and a plain white T-shirt. His hair is wet from a shower, and his face is covered in a light five o’clock shadow making him look absolutely sexy and sinister.
When he spots me, a large smile takes over his entire face, and I can’t help it. I run to him and leap into his arms. With one hand, he catches me, cupping my ass and holding me against him, not letting go. I wrap my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist, and I kiss him, hard, threading my hands through his hair.
He groans into my mouth and then pulls away, eyes heady, lips tilted up. And then that voice . . .
“Hey baby.”
I can’t even describe what my heart feels like in my chest when I hear him call me baby. It’s an unreal feeling, like someone is trying to jump-start my heart every time, skyrocketing my pulse into overdrive.
“Hey.” I kiss him again and then slide down his body, letting him drop his clothes off by his bag. When he returns, he immediately links my hand with his and nods toward the balcony off the main living room. It’s our routine whenever I come over mid-week. The balcony grants us some privacy from Ryan and her man, who, by the way, is less than thrilled that Ryan has a boy staying with her. Don’t worry, Chad. I’m less than thrilled too.
Settling into a lounge chair, I sit on Stryder’s lap, straddling his legs and facing him. I play with the hem of his crisp white shirt and watch as the fabric pulls tightly over his bulky muscles.
“How was your day?” I ask as he gently rubs my thighs with his palms.
“It’s better now. I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you, too. This living in two different places is really stupid, you know.”
He shakes his head. “Nah, it’s good for our hearts, makes the time we spend together more meaningful.”
“But think about all the things we could do if you lived with me.”
Raising a brow in question, he asks, “Let me hear them.”
Still playing with the hem of his shirt, slipping my fingers under the fabric, I quirk my lips to the side. “Well, there’s all the couples’ coupon cutting we’re missing out on. Not to mention the copious amounts of swing dancing we could be doing.” I dance my fingers across his abs causing him to suck in a sharp breath.
“Swing dancing and coupons?” he asks, his voice short and crisp.
“Yup, what a tragedy, huh? Think of all the savings you’re missing out on. Think of all the sex we could be having.”
He laughs, his head falling back to the chair, the sound coating my skin in a sheen of pleasure. So sexy. “And there it is, the real reason. Poor coupons were just a veil for you.”
“Not true. I like coupons and I’m sure cutting them out with you would be fun. But come on, let’s be serious for a second. It’s been a month, Stryder.”
“Yeah, I know.” He reaches up and twists a strand of my hair in his finger, lightly tugging on it.
I love it when he plays with my hair. “So you’ve been counting every day then? Every sexless day?”
“More like every minute.” He smiles wickedly.
“Then what’s the holdup? I told you, you don’t have to prove anything to me. I want you, Stryder.” And that’s the God’s honest truth. He is a man I want by my side, a man I want in my bed, a man I want to cherish daily.
He’s not only become a certified coach with Special Olympics so he can coach Bryan, but he’s also spent countless hours with the other athletes. He’s dedicated his weekends to me. He’s made me dinner multiple times, and he’s even cleaned the apartment. And those are just non-essential things. They have nothing to do with the way he makes me feel as a woman. The way his gaze rakes over me whenever I enter a room, or the way he unabashedly and intimately touches me, as if he’s in awe every time I allow his caress. As if I wouldn’t. His touch slays me.
He’s consumed me and there is no doubt in my mind that I want to take the next step with him. Why is he holding back?
Stroking his thumbs over my inner thigh, he drops his gaze to my lap when he says, “I want you too, Rory, but it’s . . . it’s not that simple.”
“What do you mean?” I lift his chin so those devastating eyes are forced to find me. “Why isn’t it simple?”
“Because,” he lets out a deep breath and drags one of his large hands over his face, “I feel guilty. It’s consuming me.”
“Guilt? Guilt for what?”
Scratching the side of his jaw, he says, “Colby.”
“Stryder—”
Shaking his head, he says, “He was my best friend, Rory. We went through basic together, we leaned on each other during our four years at the Academy. He became my brother, and now . . .” He shifts on the chair and gently sets me down on the side as he turns so his legs are hanging off the lounger. “Now I’m betraying that bond.”
The thought of what Colby might think has crossed my mind, multiple times, but I always refer back to what my mom said. He’s in his own world now, and he’s doing his own thing. I can’t put my life on hold because of a relationship I’ve put in my past.
And Stryder can’t do that either.
Sitting next to him, I loop my arm through his and clasp our hands together. “Can I ask you a question, Stryder?”
/> “Of course.” He exhales, leaning into my touch.
“This passion between us, this relationship. Do you see it more as lust, or can you see a future here?”
Turning toward me, head slightly tilted to the side, a pinch in his brow. “Just lust?” He shakes his head. “Rory, if this was only lust to me, I would have fucked you a few times and then left. This isn’t just lust to me. This is so much more . . . more than you will ever understand, and that’s what terrifies me, because I don’t have the best track record when it comes to relationships, both with women and with family. I don’t want to fuck this up.” Turning toward me, he takes both my hands in his and looks me in the eyes. “But no matter how hard I try, I can’t stay away. I need you, Rory.”
“Stryder,” I bring his knuckles to my mouth where I place a gentle kiss, “you’re not going to screw this up. You just need to talk to me, and as long as you keep talking, then we’re going to be okay. But you can’t hide, you can’t spiral. You have to keep me in the loop with your feelings. Will you do that for me?”
He nods and scoops me onto his lap where he pushes my hair behind my ear. “This thing that’s happening between us, it’s so fucking important to me, Rory. I don’t want to lose it. I don’t want to lose you.”
I lean in and place a soft kiss on his lips. “You won’t.”
“Because I don’t want anyone else, only you.”
“I only want you, Stryder.”
The sliding glass door opens and Ryan pops her head out. “Dinner is here, lovebirds.”
“Be right there,” I tell her, turning my attention back to Stryder. “Are you okay?”
He nods and wraps his arms around me, bringing me into a hug, strong and protective, what I’ve come to expect from Stryder. “I’m perfect.”
As I sit on his lap, his arms encasing me, his head buried in my neck, his back muscles shifting under my touch, I think about how much this man has changed since the day we found him in the bar. Unlike Colby, I could see in his eyes the desperation to please. The pleading to be loved. For someone, anyone to care for him. Unlike Colby, Stryder is lost and finding his way. Unlike Colby, Stryder doesn’t seem to live and breathe the Air Force. He’d once been itching to get in the skies like Colby, but from what we’ve talked about, and how he’s loved working with the Special Olympic athletes, he wants something different. He’s finding his way outside of his family’s long-held and stringent expectations. He was measured against every Sheppard male before him and found lacking. So, so wrong. I can see a future with Stryder, a long one. Where he’ll willingly stay, because it’s his dream too.