My Next Book Boyfriend (Book Boyfriend #1) Page 15

  “I am not touching that,” I say scrunching up my nose.

  “It’s just a worm.” A slimy, wiggly worm. No thanks! “Okay, here. I’ll put it on for you.” Such a gentleman. Of course, I can think of so many others things we could be doing rather than fishing. Clean sheets. Hot Tamale. Oh yeah! “There. Now, do this.” His arms move around me, his hand on my pole – wishing my hand was on his pole – and he pulls me back against his chest. Okay, this isn’t so bad after all. He helped me for a long time, his strong arms around me, his scent filling me. Damn! And I thought I wouldn’t like fishing.

  Then everything went south. Well, not the south I would have preferred.

  “I think I caught one!” This was after about two grueling, boring hours. Yep, fishing is pretty much not my thing. I was about to gnaw my own arm off until the line moved and the end of my pole bowed, hard.

  “Okay, slowly reel him in. Slowly.”

  I turn and look at him. “How do you know it’s a he?” His mouth opens then closes. I look at the pole, still twisting the thingy that reels the fish in, and shake my head. “I mean, it could be a girl. Everyone always thinks, whatever it is, is a guy.”

  “Slow it down, Rylie.”

  I shrug. “It could always be a girl. How else are baby fishes born?”

  “Pull up! Pull Up!”

  I turn to look at him. “Pull what up?” And as I do, I yank up the pole and it swings and catches HT right on his face.

  “OW!”

  Oh!

  My!

  God!

  His hand is on my arm trying to help me, and as I yank and he gets stuck, I lose my balance and into the water we go. We both come up from under the water, panting and spitting. “Are you okay?” He’s got a fish hook hanging from his cheek, and he wants to know if I’m okay? My jeans are plastered to my skin. My shirt is soaked and somewhat see through as I try to climb out. He swims next to me, pulls himself out and reaches his hand down to me. My hero!

  As we walked back to his house, I thought about how great I’ve been, not stuttering, stammering or hurting anything – until now. This wasn’t even due to being around him, really. Just me being my klutzy self and he was too close. I’m a menace.

  “I’m so sorry! I’m so very sorry! Where’s your medicine kit?”

  We finally make it inside, the hook still embedded in his cheek. At least he’d taken out his pocket knife and cut the line so the fishing pole is sitting on the deck. Mine, unfortunately, is still in the pond. Needless to say, the fish got away. He tells me the first aid kit is in the hall bathroom cabinet, and I run through his house, sliding on the floor, and retrieve it. As I walk back out, trying to be more careful, I hear my phone pinging relentlessly on the nightstand in his bedroom. That will have to wait – Molly. I walk back into the kitchen, sit down at the table beside him and open up the white metal box. While I was getting it, apparently he had gotten a hand mirror and a pair of pliers. Putting my hands between my wet legs, I watch, not wanting to reach out suddenly to help.

  “There.” He flinches when he pulls it out, and I wince from watching. He turns and looks at me, a trail of blood sliding down his face. “Would you mind cleaning it with the peroxide in there and put a butterfly bandage on it.” He tilts his head at the opened box. “Good thing I had a tetanus shot about a year ago.”

  I look at the box and then back at him. “Oh, I don’t think I should….”

  Setting down the mirror and pliers, he places his hand on my arm. “I trust you.” I nod, taking a deep breath. I’m not really sure he should. He sits straight as I stand to clean out the wound and tape it up then I clean off all the blood around it. I’m full of concentration but when I’m done, before I can step back, he grabs my upper arms and pulls me to him. His lips cover mine, and I let out a moan. I’m not sure how, but next thing I know, I’m straddling him. My arms wrapped around his neck, and my fingers are in his hair. We’re both panting, breathing each other’s air, when he pulls back, pressing his forehead against mine. “That was hot.”

  I let out a snort. “Which part? When the fishing hook got stuck in your face or when we fell into the pond?” I let out another laugh but stop when I notice he’s not joining in. His eyes search mine, seriousness covering his gorgeous face.

  “Everything. It was fun.” He swallows, and I watch his Adam’s apple move down then up. “The fishing, teaching you, your constant chatter.” He grins. “Falling in the pond. So, I took a hook to the face.” He shrugs. “All in the line of duty.” I still feel terrible. He could have really been hurt, scarred, or maybe the hook could have gone in his eye. Now my eyes are filling with tears. “Hey,” he whispers as he cups my face. His thumb rubs across my wet cheek, from my falling tears. “It was an accident.”

  I try to lower my head but his grip is firm. “I’m such a klutz. It could have hit your eye.”

  He searches my eyes, again. The look on his face is sweet, reverent. “Yes, it could have, but it didn’t. One thing I’ve learned in my life is you can’t live with what ifs. Things are gonna happen. It’s part of life. The thing I loved most?” I sniffle, waiting anxiously for his answer. “I spent time with you. You tried something you’ve never done before, out of your element, and didn’t hesitate. I know now, it’s not something you like but at least you tried.” His mouth turns up into a smile and that dimple appears. He grows serious. “You read those romance novels. They always depict the guy as some kind of hero or the guy every girl wants.” He leans to me, his lips barely touching mine. “In truth, it’s really about the girl.”

  His mouth covers mine and what started out – a good day gone bad, ends up perfect. Because he’s right. It always feels like it’s all about the guy, but sometimes.... it really is about the girl.

  “Now.” He leans back and stares into my eyes. “Since we’re already soaked, I think we should go take a shower and get cleaned up.”

  Best idea I’ve heard all day!

  Chapter 15

  You know how you read in a romance book, the female and male character take a shower together? There’s lust, desire, steamy sex, they wash each other – very sensually, and there’s a whole lot of moaning echoing in the small space? It’s hot, right? Yeah, well, apparently for me, that only happens in books. We kissed, boy, did we kiss. He did wash me and I him but then I got shampoo in his eyes and when he was reaching for the wash cloth, eyes stinging, he smacked my boob – really hard. I yelped, grabbed said boob and bent over, only to knock my head right into his very hard Hot Tamale. Then, we were both doubled over in pain. Told ya, I’m a menace to anyone around me.

  The good news? Remember how I told you there’s a built in bench in his shower? Yeah, that worked well. Very well. He sat on it, and I sat on him. It made him fill me deeper than I could ever imagine. Did I say that his Hot Tamale is huge? I rode him like a pro, like I’d been riding Hot Tamales all my life. He kissed my sore boob, cuddled it, while he sucked, licked and don’t even get me started on giving the other one more than enough attention too. It was amazing! Secretly, I think we made a silent pact never to wash each other again and only use the bench from now on. I’m good with that.

  I’d had forgotten about Molly calling me, so after we packed up, locked up, and started the drive home, I finally got a chance to check my phone. It wasn’t Molly, but it was a text regarding the idea I’d had about the signing in Ridgemont. I look over at HT and smile, watching him concentrate on the road. All my thoughts shift gears, and I think about everything that happened over the weekend.

  The most beautiful cabin and surrounding scenery I’ve ever seen.

  His Hot Tamale is so much more than I thought before.

  Man, can HT cook!

  Lost my v-card, kind of, again! Oh. My. God!

  Looking around the pond at sunrise and sunset is heavenly.

&n
bsp; HT really does make a mean omelet!

  Fishing is totally not my thing. I think even Jax realizes that now. He has a butterfly bandage over his cheek to prove it.

  Washing each other in the shower is not what it’s cracked up to be but I did learn I’m a pretty damn good Hot Tamale rider.

  Spending an entire weekend with Jax was the best thing to happen to me – ever!

  Suddenly, I’m scared. I’ve never had a first love, unless you count Joey Tompkins in kindergarten. It was the way his tongue peeked out as he concentrated on coloring. No? Yeah, I didn’t think so. I have nothing to compare this to. Nothing that can help or explain all these overwhelming feelings or what will happen. I’m not stupid. I know that the success rate for a first love to be everlasting isn’t good. Does that mean it will fail before it ever really gets started? Not on my watch! I’ve heard about school romances that developed into marriage and then ended in divorce. I’ve read about first loves to blossom and then find out one of the people were actually abusive, and it ended badly. The percentage of first loves to last forever actually is so low that I could just chuck it now before my heart gets broken.

  Then I wonder – am I his first love? Had he already given his heart to someone only to be in that low percentage, and his heart shattered? I know he had a rough life growing up and is doing so well now. Then I think back about all the feminine products I found in his bathroom? What’s up with that? I was scared to ask him, in fear that I wasn’t the first female he’d taken there. Could I have used someone else’s bubble bath? I shudder thinking about it. Then my mind wanders to what happens when we go home? He lives next door to me now. Unexpected and slightly weird how he just happened to see it was for sale and bought it? Next door? Will we sleep alone in our respective beds every night thinking about the other just a wall away, or will we take turns spending the night in each other’s condos? How will things change?

  “You’re thinking too hard.”

  I turn my head, my eyes snapping to his, his smile, and that damn panty melting dimple. “I was just thinking about how amazing the weekend’s been. Thank you for taking me.” I lie. He releases the steering wheel, capturing my hand that’s in my lap, his fingers threading through mine.

  He winks, his eyes moving back and forth between the road and me. “You’re welcome. I hope we get to do it again soon.” My heart lifts. That’s encouraging. “You thought this was a one-time deal?” His brows raise. Maybe? “I know that it seems too soon to talk about this but….”

  Oh, shit! Here we go.

  The letdown.

  The break up.

  The moment my heart shatters into a gazillion tiny pieces that can’t be put together again.

  I can feel my heart is already starting to crumble. I’ll have to spend my days and nights eating Ben and Jerry’s, any flavor will do, gorging on anything and everything sweet like cinnamon buns and muffins, watching romance movies and crying in my popcorn and gaining five million pounds, not being able to walk because I’m so large. Did I cover everything?

  “Do you think you can get a weekend away from your shop maybe once a month?” Wait! What? “I thought it would be nice to go to the cabin each month. You can even leave some clothes there, if you’d like, and your own toiletries so we wouldn’t even need to pack. You could get some good relaxing and reading time in too.” That is totally not what I was expecting. My heart skips a beat, and the butterflies are back. “I didn’t want to be presumptuous.” Who talks like that? My dreamy HT. Swoon!

  I squeeze his hand. “I think that might be doable.” His smile broadens. “I mean, with Addie and Duncan there now, I created a schedule and we’ve been able to start taking off more. Things have been working out so well.” His brows suddenly lower and it appears he’s thinking too hard now. “What? Is something wrong, Jax?”

  He shakes his head, as if he’s clearing all thoughts, and smiles. “No. Everything is perfect. My life is great! I love what I do. Have an amazing cabin in the woods, an awesome condo – complete with a great neighbor.” He winks. There goes my dry panties! “And the perfect girlfriend.” Girlfriend? Wait! What??? Did he just say girlfriend? Did he just call me his girlfriend? “You are, you know. Perfect. And my girlfriend.” His thumb rubs against the palm of my hand soothingly. “That is, if that’s okay?” Is he kidding?

  I nod, eagerly, not sure I’m able to speak. Finally, I clear my throat, my smile so big, my cheeks ache. “More than okay.”

  “Good.” Damn dimple. God, I love it. “Now. I do have one request.”

  My brows raise. “Oh?”

  He pulls into his driveway, the garage door opening. He waits until he pulls inside and as the door lowers, he shuts off the car and turns to me after unbuckling his belt. He surprises me by reaching over and unbuckling mine, then lifts me effortlessly with those strong hands, and I’m straddling his lap. The steering wheel is biting into my back but who cares. He cups my face with both hands and I’m lost in those brown eyes. “Do you think you can make me some more of those delicious cinnamon buns? I’m out.” I let out a laugh but he muffles it quickly by covering my mouth with his.

  The next thing on my bucket list? Have sex in the back seat of a car. Hmmm, that could happen! Nothing dangerous could happen with that, right?

  “Yes! That would be great! Thank you so much!” I end the call and turn around, meeting Molly’s mean face. “What?” What in the hell did I do now? Maybe she needs sex. I could offer to loan her B.O.B. Nah, he’s mine, even though he hasn’t seen much action lately because I fired him.

  “You were late! I mean really late.” She crosses her arms under her breasts, raising them up a notch, her foot tapping. Guilty! HT and I had fabulous sex last night, and I might have overslept. Like by about two hours. Oops! “You have something going on and you’ve failed to tell me. That’s breaking the best friend code.” She waves her arms up in the air. “Like HUGE!”

  Now, I feel bad. Molly and I have been inseparable since we were little. We’ve always told each other everything! It’s true what they say, one of you gets a boyfriend and – is he really my boyfriend? Squee! And you go off into La-La land forgetting those who mean so much to you. You’re caught up in your little world, clouded by lust and sex. Lots and lots of sex. Suddenly, you have no friends because they drop you like the hot potato you’ve become and other than that hot sex, you’re alone. Okay, but you still have lots and lots of hot sex!

  I walk to her, throwing my arms around her. She’s stiff. Angry. Maybe a little jealous? No matter. “I’m so sorry, Mol. You’re right. Forgive me?” I should be black listed in her book. I’m a terrible best friend. Suddenly, she relaxes and her arms go around me.

  “It’s okay. Just – quit leaving me out of things. I’ve missed you.” Nodding, I take a step back. We walk over and sit down at the table, where my mocha is waiting for me. “So…. what’s new?”

  I tell her everything, from the moment I stepped inside the cabin, the great meals he cooked, him taking my v-card kind of again to the fiasco that was fishing. “Oh! And thanks for taking care of Willy for me. He was his ol’ grumpy self when I got home.” I bite the inside of my cheek. “And I might have done something.” Her brows lower. “It’s not that bad. I think.”

  “Spill.” She’s giving me her mean look again. Well that didn’t last long.

  “Well, I might have messaged the Ridgemont Author Events page and asked if they’d like a sponsor for the event.” One of her brows raises. “Yeah. So, they said they would love that and are creating a flyer that I can print off and put in our windows.” Her other brow raises. I bite my lower lip. “I might have promised them we’d make sandwiches for lunch for all the authors and possibly some pastries and bring different coffees for breakfast?”

  Her hands lay down on the table, flat, and her knuckles turn white with the force. “And what do we get in
return for doing all that work, I assume, being up very early that morning?”

  Placing my hands on the table, I fold them and squeeze tightly – almost like I’m praying. Maybe I am. Praying she doesn’t kill me. “Well, we get an even earlier admittance, our cards will be lying on the serving table for not only the authors to take but for all the readers that come in and we get a mention in their program.” Sitting up straight I smile. It really is great advertisement.

  “And what about the VIP tickets you won?”

  I shrug. “I asked Duncan if he wanted them. He was ecstatic! Who knew he likes to read romance novels.” I smile, feeling pretty proud of myself.

  Her shoulders slump. “Ry. That’s all good and I wouldn’t even mind doing it.” I’m so relieved. “But….” Why is there always a damn but? “How are we all going to go when we have the shop to run? Have you figured that out, yet?”

  I smirk. “Of course I figured it out! I’m going to make a sign to put on the front door that we’re closed for the day and why. That way, we all get an extra day off, even Duncan, and it’s even more advertisement for the event. Win-win!”

  “That’s genius!” She smiles and my best friend is back!

  Silly woman! Of course it’s genius. Should I tell her now just how many sandwiches, pastries and different coffees we’ll need to make? Nah! I’ll wait until the night before. No use spoiling her good mood now.