When they’re gone, Mallory stands up and announces she’s ready for bed having flown the night before. I hug her, too, knowing we’ll probably be gone before she gets up in the morning.
“I just got you back,” I whisper in her ear. “Sorry I’m leaving so soon.”
“It’ll be okay,” she says. “I’ll be out there in less than a month. I guarantee it.”
“Love you,” I say before letting her go.
“Love you, too.”
We’ve been crossing paths like this since college. This is nothing new. We move apart, but we always find our way back to each other.
Blake wraps his arms over my shoulders as soon as she’s gone. “You look tired.”
“I am. It’s been a long day.”
“Let’s get you to bed. I’ll wake you up at six, and you can sleep in the car.”
“I need a shower before bed then.” I bite my lower lip, hoping he takes the bait.
“Maybe you need some help washing a few spots,” he offers, kissing the spot below my ear.
“That would be nice.”
And he does. For the last time, we make love in this apartment. It’s just another fitting goodbye.
“HEY, BABY, WE’RE HERE,” Blake announces quietly, shaking my arm. This trip went much like the last, and I finally drifted off after filling my stomach with truck stop pancakes.
I rub my eyes, sneaking a glance out the window. Instead of seeing houses or the small shops that line our small town, I see my grandpa’s old farmhouse. “What are we doing here?”
“This is our home, baby. You said you wanted to live here so I made it happen.”
“But it needs to be cleaned and fixed up. No one has lived in it for a few years. We can’t stay here, Blake.”
He covers my lips with his index finger. “I talked to your dad before we left. A cleaning company came out yesterday and got it all ready, and he moved some of the old furnishings out. We still need to renovate, but I thought we could make it ours together.”
I freaking hate how easily I cry these days. It’s nice to have someone who listens to me—who makes my dreams come true when I least expect it.
“I love you,” I say, kissing his finger.
“I love you more,” he answers back, running his finger along my lower lip.
I hop out, practically running for the front door.
“Lila!” he yells. “Wait, I need to show you something!”
For once I listen, standing on the front porch waiting for him to catch up with what looks like a picnic basket. “What’s in there?”
He flashes his cocky smile. “You’ll see. Can you wait out here for two minutes, or do I have to tie you down?”
“Don’t tempt me with a good time,” I tease.
“I swear to God your sex drive is going to kill me if it doesn’t slow down. I didn’t think that was possible.”
“Challenge accepted.”
I sit on the old porch swing while I wait for him. I imagine him setting up a blanket so we can have our first meal together here. Or maybe he’s drawing me a bath after the long ride.
The wondering stops when he comes through the door. “Come here,” he instructs, holding his hand out to me.
I walk quickly, listening to the old boards creak under my feet. The place smells like lemons as we step inside and looks as clean as grandma used to keep it—shiny hardwood floors, gorgeous woodwork and an array of outdated wallpapers.
He squeezes my hand, leading me to the kitchen. “There are so many things I didn’t do right since I met you, and I can’t go back and change them, but I want to do what was right all over again. I want a second chance to make everything right.”
His fingers find the bottom of my sundress slowly lifting it up over my thighs. His fingertips brush my bare stomach then my breasts. “Arms up, Lemon Drop.”
I do as he asks, shifting my feet in anticipation. He unfastens my bra then slides my panties down so I can easily step out of them. Before I know it, he has me sitting on the counter as his warm mouth explores my body.
Reaching between us, I work the button on his pants. It hasn’t even been twenty-four hours, but it feels like forever.
“Hey,” he groans, gripping my wrist. “There’s no rush, Lemon Drop.”
My thoughts flash back to the night he had me on the counter, teasing me while explaining the nickname he’d given me.
He talks between kisses. “The first moment I’d want to do again is Truth. That’s when I started seeing you differently. Ask me something, baby, and I’ll answer it. Anything.”
Caught off guard, I think about it. He’s told me so much over the last week that there’s not much left to know. “Are you happy, or are you just working toward it?”
He stops what he’s doing, tipping my chin up to look in his eyes. “If you don’t have an answer to that after tonight, then you can ask again.”
“My turn,” he says, kissing down my stomach. “What was the first thing that went through your head when you found out you were pregnant? Be honest.”
“I just hoped you wouldn’t leave me.”
“Oh, baby. I’m so sorry.”
I grip his hair between my fingers. “I know, but we’re trying to forget all of that now, right?”
“Good girl.” He opens the drawer, pulling out a lemon drop. Just seeing the small yellow candy brings back good memories. He sucks on it first then kisses me, carefully placing it on my tongue, while skimming his fingers along the inside of my thighs. I roll the candy around and pass it back. He runs his candy-coated tongue along down my throat, against each of my nipples then slips down circling my belly button.
He presses one finger into me while working his mouth back up to my breasts. “You’re so wet. What do you want first, baby?” He pushes a second finger inside me, and I swear I’m going to lose it. “Fingers or cock?”
“Mouth,” I moan, feeling him smile against the crook of my neck.
“Lean back,” he instructs, removing his fingers and spreading my legs.
He’s everything. I could live the rest of my life alone in this house with him and have everything.
His candy-covered tongue works its way down between my legs. I wrap my legs over his shoulders as his hot mouth works more core.
He sucks.
Then circles.
Then sucks again.
I lose myself, screaming his name over and over as I tug his hair. He waits for me breathing to slow before working his way back up, passing the little bit of candy that’s left back to me.
“And that was number one.” He throws out a cocky grin, reminding me of that night.
“You think you can make it four this time?” I tease, rolling the little bit of candy that’s left around on my tongue. I taste myself as I watch him strip in front of me.
He rests his forearms against the cabinet as he sinks into me slowly. “Baby, I can give you as many as you want. You just need to tell me when to stop.” He plunges all the way in, almost daring me to beg for it. “You’re still my Lemon Drop.”
I moan. It’s all I can do. His words used to cause rivers of desire to flow, but they could cause a tidal wave in the ocean now.
“Do you know how many of those I ate in the months we were apart?” he whispers against my lips.
I shake my head slowly waiting for him to kiss me.
“At least ten a day. I couldn’t stop because they remind me of you, and you’re my addiction.”
“Kiss me,” I beg, covering his cheeks with my hands.
He pulls my hands away, pinning them up against the cabinet as he continues to push into me over and over. “This is my game tonight, Lemon Drop. I make up the rules.”
The way he has me pinned combined with his words has me coming around him within seconds. Something about giving him all control turns me on. It’s only then that he kisses me—soft and tender—weakening my cries.
Blake is a protector.
A lover.