Page 71 of Just This Once

And like our first night together, hestuns me with how much I enjoy his crude actions. He bends, kissing me, all tongue and teeth, sharing the taste of him between us. It’s intoxicating, and I barely realize how he pulls me up to standing, wrapping his arms around me tightly.

“Fuck, Taryn,” he rasps, voice raw. “That was… Fuck.”

I bury my face into the slope of his neck, where his wood and cotton scent is always strongest. And I know there is not much this man could ask of me that I would not give him.

He swallows, his Adam’s apple moving against my mouth. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but whatever it is, I’m glad I did it.”

“But that’s the thing,” I say, lifting my head. “I’m the one who doesn’t deserve you. Don’t you see? I’m the mean one. You’re the nice one.”

He wrenches his head back, a growing smirk aimed at me. “I’d say what you just did was very,verynice.” Without looking behind him, he grabs the can of whipped cream. “And it’s your turn now.”

He squats low and throws me over his shoulder, forcing a shriek out of me. “No whipped cream on the bed! I just changed the sheets this morning.”

“I’ll change them again.” He smacks my ass. “Small price to pay for eating my favorite meal with dessert.”

Chapter 23

Dante

It’s the first Friday in December, and The Nest is buzzing with a warmth that has nothing to do with the twinkling lights or the crackling fire in the hearth. The scents of a freshly cut pine tree and homemade gingerbread fill the air, and the hum of conversation is a pleasant thrum against the backdrop of the soft volume of holiday classics.

This is it. Everything Taryn and I have been working toward, and it’s already packed. I’ve barely had an opportunity to talk to her, only a minute when she introduced me to the owners, singing my praises about my work. In turn, I made sure they knew how amazing Taryn is, a one-woman show who turned their popular but kinda dumpy B&B into a picturesque getaway.

So many people are here, a few I know, including Clara and Marianne, as well as most of Taryn’s family that I met on Thanksgiving. Jake and Maddie are around here somewhere, but I’ve been using the time to meet as many people as possible. This is what I meant when I said Moretti Construction wouldn’t be anywhere without me, because every companyneeds a face. Someone to actually go out there and find new work, and that person is me. I had new business cards printed for the occasion and gladly hand them out to anyone who wants one once word spreads about me being the project manager.

I’m in the middle of popping a few pieces of cheese onto a toothpick when a hand smooths up my back, and I turn, expecting it to be Taryn.

It is not.

It’s Kim.

My ex.

I step away from her, right into the food table, causing the plates to clink together. I barely save a tower of chocolates from falling over. “What are you doing here?”

She smiles, one that I used to find so lovely. Now, all I can think about is how I hated the taste of her lip gloss. She always had so much on. Taryn doesn’t wear anything on her lips. I much prefer that. I think I’d prefer anything Taryn wore.

Kim sweeps her gaze around. “I saw the open house advertised everywhere, so I thought I’d pop in. Especially after I heard you did the work on it. Looks great.”

I’m no longer interested in my food and set the small plate aside. “Thanks, but I didn’t do much.”

“Sure, you didn’t,” she says with a laugh, her hand curling around my bicep. “I can always see the work you’ve done.”

That’s a lie. We were together for two years, and in that time, she wasn’t much interested in any of my projects. I don’t believe she’s here on a whim.

Kim’s three years younger than me, and when we first got together, it was only to hook up. But that turned into me staying at her place most nights, until I was there every night. I assumed that meant we were headed toward the things I wanted, marriage and family, but she didn’t. Which was why we broke up. She wasn’t ready. She wanted to explore.

And hey, I’m all for exploring. But only if we do it together.

I suspect she realized what a good thing she had with me: loyalty.

“Can we go somewhere and talk?” she asks, but I shake my head, pulling away from her searching hands when she attempts to twine our fingers together.

“Nah. I’m good.”

“Honey,” she says with a laugh, like I’m joking.

I am not.

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