It Had to Be You
Page 24

“Luke. Please, Luke.”
Oh yeah, he was going to please. He pushed the hem of her skirt up to her waist. “Hold this.”
She reached for it reflexively, freeing up his hands. Running the pad of his finger over her tiny, sky blue cotton panties, he caught the material and scraped them aside, giving him a view that made him groan out her name. She was wet and glistening. For him.
She rocked against him again, and he tore open his board shorts, giving himself some desperately needed room.
“Oh,” she whispered, all breathy, staring down at him with flattering raptness.
He reached for her, then stilled, letting out a long string of oaths. “No condom,” he managed.
“I’m on the pill.”
Her trust meant more to him than he could have possibly imagined. But how the hell was he supposed to keep this light when everything about it felt more like…everything?
She was still holding her skirt up like he’d asked, and it was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen. Pulling her in, he wrapped his arms around her, kissing her deeply, wondering why he even bothered to keep his distance. There was no distance with her. None.
She returned his kisses with wild abandon. “It’s crazy…” she whispered against his mouth, “what you do to me.”
“Tell me,” he said. “Tell me what I do to you.”
“You look at me like I’m the best thing you’ve seen all day. You make me feel…I don’t know. Pretty. Sexy. And important to you. You make me feel, Luke.”
She was all those things to him. And she made him feel too. She made him feel so f**king much that his heart was going to burst through his ribs. “Ali,” he breathed, and then slanted his mouth across hers. He’d meant to just make a quick connection, but she moved with him, taking the kiss hotter, deeper, pressing her body to his.
It turned him inside out and upside down and sideways. She was all he’d thought about, dreamed about since he’d returned home, her hot, curvy bod, warm, soft skin, her wild hair flowing over his shoulders and arms. She murmured his name like he was the best thing that had happened to her all day, and he gave himself up to her, sucking on her lower lip, sliding his tongue to hers, ravishing her until they were both trembling. “Raise up,” he said, voice hoarse.
She eagerly scrambled up, giving him the room he needed to slide into her. The sensation of filling her rocked his world. Hers too, if her wild breathing meant anything. Holding still, giving her a moment to adjust, was the hardest thing he’d ever done.
“I love that too,” she whispered.
He kissed the frantically beating pulse at the base of her neck. “What?”
“The feel of you.” She arched against him wordlessly, demanding more. “Your mouth on me.”
He made his way along her jaw to just beneath her ear. “What else?”
With a shiver, she tightened her grip on his hair. He didn’t care if she made him bald, as long as she didn’t let go. “That you know my sweet spots.”
“You’re one big, sweet spot.”
She bit his lower lip, and when he sucked in a breath, she laughed at him softly.
He laughed too. Laughed, while so close to her that he could feel her heart beating. It was the most amazing thing he’d ever experienced. Cupping her sweet ass in his palms, he thrust into her.
She stopped laughing and moaned his name again as her own movements brought her closer to the edge.
“God, Ali,” he said, voice low and thick. He couldn’t help it, watching her take her pleasure on him was turning him on so much he could hardly draw a breath. “You’re so beautiful. Every time I see you, I just want to drag you down and have my way with you.” Her h*ps were driving him insane, and he tightened his grip, trying to slow her down so he didn’t lose it in a spectacularly embarrassing fashion.
But she obviously thought his control was of the superhuman variety, because she cupped his face and leaned in, letting her br**sts lightly brush his chest again. She smiled at him, the hot little minx.
He smiled back.
And then they were kissing, devouring each other, lost in the moment. He knew she was close, straining for it. Wanting to watch her, wanting to push her over the edge, he stroked a thumb over the sweetest of all her sweet spots.
She tore her mouth free to pant for air, gripping his wrist to hold him there.
Stroking her both inside and out, he watched as she began to tremble.
“Luke.”
“I know.”
“Don’t stop.”
“I won’t.”
She came, flying over the edge with his name on her lips. He tried to hold on, tried to hold back, but it was too late. He was lost. Lost, and yet somehow found. It was as simple and terrifying as that.
Chapter 18
Luke concentrated on dragging air back into his lungs. He was still in the kitchen chair, with Ali’s dead weight on his chest. Maybe one day they’d actually make it to his bed.
Except they weren’t going to have a “one day.”
Ali hadn’t moved at all. Luke stroked a hand down her back, relieved to feel her breathing. “I didn’t kill you then.”
“Death by orgasm,” she murmured, still not moving. “Not a bad way to go.” But after another long moment, she sighed, rose, and began to put herself back together, covering up that amazing body.
A damn shame.
Luke managed to find his legs and took their plates to the sink. When he turned back, he caught her staring at his ass.
She blushed. “You have some dirt on it, that’s all.”
“I was sitting on the dock.”
“Talking to your grandfather.”
“Eavesdropping again?” he asked.
“No, since I couldn’t hear the words.” She paused. “But the body language said plenty. Are you close to him? It’s hard to tell.”
“Used to be.” He paused. “I thought he blamed me for my grandma’s death.”
“Oh Luke,” she murmured. “No.”
He shrugged. The truth was the truth.
“And now?” she asked.
“He says he was mad at me for leaving Lucky Harbor.”
She came close, invading his space, running her hands up his chest to cup his face. He wasn’t buried deep inside her body, but the gesture was just as powerful. “Her death wasn’t your fault,” she said.
“And the leaving?”
“Were you supposed to stay here just to make him happy?” she asked.
“There was no making him happy.”
Ali’s fingers massaged his skull, melting his bones. He’d just had her, and he wanted her again.
“You seem pretty fond of blaming yourself for everyone and everything,” Ali said. “Wonder why that is? You don’t want to be happy?”
“Happy?” Unsure how they’d gone from post-orgasmic glow to this, he shook his head. “There’s not much to be happy about, and I’d have thought that you’d know that better than anyone.”
Ali cocked her head and studied him with what he was certain was more than a dash of pity. “You think I should be unhappy?” she asked.
Even as he sensed a trap, he opened his big, fat, stupid mouth. “Aren’t you?”
She went still a beat and then pulled back. “Why? Because someone I thought I could trust walked out on me with nothing more than a text? Because I think my boss is going to close the flower shop and I’ll lose my job? Because I’ve been falsely accused of a crime that people in town actually believe I committed?” She gave him a little push that actually wasn’t so little. “I’m not defined by someone I thought I was dating, Luke, or what I do for a living. I’m not defined by what people think of me. My happiness comes from within, and I—”
Oh shit. Her voice broke.
She shook her head and pointed at him. “And here’s the thing.”
Oh, good. Thank God. There was a thing. He listened, desperate to get past this without her tears.
“I know I might look like a ball of fluff,” she said, “but I’m not. Not even close. And the fact that I get up each morning and put a damn smile on my face is the same as…Batman putting on his cape.”
“I—”
“I’m not done. It’s…protection. It’s my shield. It’s me waving my middle finger to the world, because I choose to be happy. The bottom line, Luke, is that I know what matters and what doesn’t.” She gave him a look that would have wilted the plant on the kitchen island if she hadn’t been taking such good care of it. “And I’d think that you would know that better than anyone.”
With his own words thrown back at him, mocking him, she turned and headed for the door.
He sighed. “Ali…”
But she was gone.
Luke was woken the next morning by a call from Sawyer. “The video is in,” he said. “We found nothing, but it’s all yours if you want it.”
Luke did want it. He rolled out of bed, and twenty minutes later he was on his way. He made a pit stop at the beauty salon. A brunette in her early twenties was opening the shop. “Melissa’s first appointment isn’t until noon,” she said when he asked. “I don’t expect her for a few hours.”
“I’ll come back,” Luke said. “But out of curiosity, have any of you done a blue manicure with white stars lately?”
“Actually,” she said. “Melissa—”
“Is right here…”
Luke turned to find Melissa standing there.
“You’re looking for a manicure,” Melissa said with a broad smile. “A blue one at that. Wow. I so did not see that one coming. I mean I’ve heard San Francisco can turn a man, but you, Lieutenant Sexy? You’ve got so much testosterone that you ooze pheromones. Please come back to the straight team. We need you.”
He blinked. “What? No.” Jesus. “The manicure isn’t for me.”
“Well, that’s a relief.”
“So?” Luke asked both women. “A blue manicure?”
“Didn’t you have a blue manicure last month?” the brunette asked. “We were experimenting with the new spray brush, remember?”
“Didn’t keep them blue for more than a few minutes,” Melissa said casually, and sipped from the coffee in her hands. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a last-minute emergency appointment.” She started to walk into the studio, then turned back to Luke. “I’m the only game in town, but it’s not far to other salons,” she said. “In fact, there’s one not too far down the road in Ocean Shores, and they specialize in original nail designs. You might check with them. But just out of curiosity, why are you asking?”
“Nothing important,” he said.
“Uh-huh.” She gave him a long, speculative look, then vanished inside.
Thoughtful, Luke walked back to his truck and found Jack in the passenger seat, slurping coffee like his life depended on it. There was a look on Jack’s face that had Luke’s gut clenching. “Ben?”
Jack’s expression immediately lightened. “No, man. He’s fine, as far as I know. I haven’t heard from him, but last time he emailed, he was pretty sure he’d be home soon.” He jutted his chin toward the salon. “You get yourself a nice cut and color?”
“Yeah, real nice. What are you doing here?”
“Leah’s dating some new guy. I ran him,” Jack said, “and he’s got a record.”
“You ran him? Since when does a firefighter run people?”
“Hey, I have friends in high places, okay? And it was for the common good.”
Luke shook his head. “What’s his record?”
“He’s got a library debt.”
Luke stared at him. “Well, hell, Jack. We should string him up for that.”
“Hey, if he can’t keep a library book safe, he sure as hell can’t take care of one little pastry chef.”
“So you’re waiting here to tell her that?”
“No, I’m going to tell him that. I’m waiting for him to get out of there. He’s currently sucking up to Leah, looking for date number two.”
Luke laughed. Jack and Leah had been friends since their school days. The kind of friends who moved each other’s parked cars to different streets, or set them up on bad blind dates for the sheer entertainment value. But this curiosity about who Leah was dating was new. Very new. Jack wasn’t a possessive guy about anything. He’d lost his dad early in a tragic fire. Since then Jack hadn’t taken much of anything too seriously—except his job. “You’re crazy.”
“Says the guy who just came out of a beauty salon,” Jack said.
Luke stared at Jack, trying to figure out the odd tone in his voice. “I thought you and Leah were just friends.”
“Yeah, and friends don’t let friends date potential felons,” Jack said. “And aren’t you supposed to be back in San Francisco?”
“Aren’t you supposed to be putting out fires?”
“I’m just coming off four twenty-fours and going straight to bed.”
“Not yet you’re not.” Luke turned over his engine and pulled out into the street.
“Hey,” Jack said.
“I need your help,” Luke said.
At the sheriff’s station, they were directed to Sawyer’s office. He took them to the one and only spare room—the interrogation room. There they had a computer and the gas station’s surveillance tapes from the night of the auction.