Page 578 of One More Kiss

Chapter7

Scarlett

His heartbeat calmsme along with his hand stroking my hair. It’s almost as if he knows exactly what I need. It’s slightly…unnerving. This man I hated less than twenty-four hours ago has turned out to be…exceptional. I internally chastise myself for judging a book by its cover. I should know better.

“He liked to tell stories,” I blurt out and immediately press my lips together. Where did that come from? Why did I say that?

“Who?” Rexton asks, his breath tickles the hair over my ear.

“My dad. He used to tell us bedtime stories, really good ones. He told me a story the day we went to that castle.”

“Tell me the story,” he insists.

“It’s not very long,” I explain and then launch into the story as Rexton lies quietly.

When I finish, he asks me about my family. I don’t know why, maybe it’s because he’s a stranger or maybe because we’ll probably never see each other again, but I begin to confide in him. I tell him all about my family and the normal suburban life we led. I tell him about my parents’ perfect marriage that started to fall apart when I was nine. I tell him about the fighting and the breaking of dishes. I talk about how my sister and I would hide under our beds and how I would distract her with our walkie-talkies until I could sneak us out the front door. I explain how I would try to make my dad happy by picking topics for dinner conversations that were sure to make him pleased or how I would try to get all As in school. I tell him how my parents separated when I was thirteen and I lived with my dad.

“He died that summer,” I finish, unsure of telling him more.

“I’m sorry,” he says, not pressing me further. And it’s that simple acknowledgment without a question that has me continuing.

“I knew he was unhappy. I thought he wanted to run away. He was always going on about wanting to run a marina in another country. I never thought…I mean, I was just a kid. It was so quiet that morning. It was like…I just knew. You know when you sense another person is with you…I didn’t. I knew no one was there before I even found his body. There was so much blood and…I didn’t think it was real at first. I thought it was some elaborate joke, some cruel joke. But when I touched him…I knew.”

Rexton doesn’t speak but his arms tighten around me.

“I went to live with my mom after that. She got married when I was seventeen. Richard’s not a bad guy. Heck, he’s actually nice, but I just never really connected to him after…well, after everything that happened.”

“I’m sorry that happened to you, Scarlett,” Rexton’s deep voice says quietly. “I…” He trails off as if he is unsure if he wants to share something.

I pull back and look up at him.

“My mom died of cancer as I told you before. But my dad…turned to drugs after that. I found him after high school one day. He’d OD’d in his fucking recliner chair. He barely had a pulse. I called nine-one-one. He coded at the hospital. I turned eighteen four weeks later and took custody of my sister. It’s been just Ginger and me ever since. I gave up everything I wanted to do in order to give her a roof over her head. I even gave up a chance to play guitar in a band, Voltage Drop.”

“You were going to play in Voltage Drop?” she asks, her eyes wide.

I nod. “I was really good at the guitar. Hell, I was good at a lot of things. For a while, I thought I’d get a scholarship to college to play soccer until I fucked up my knee when I fell trying to fix a gutter on the house because Dad was too fucked up to do it. That’s when I started playing guitar. I met Lincoln at this music festival, and we clicked. I played a few gigs with them.” He pauses and chuckles. “I may have lied and said I was eighteen. Anyhow, after Dad died, I had to get a job. I had worked at this garage for two years and the guy hired me full-time. Jerry was a solid man. He was more of a dad than my father was. After Jerry died, his kids closed it down. I decided to open my own shop. It’s taken a while, but things are good now.”

“Shit, you make my childhood seem like a cakewalk,” I say sadly as I lean my head back on his chest.

His arms wrap around me tightly again and I try not to admit to myself how good that feels.

“I think yours sounds worse,” he admits.

I lean back again and look into his eyes. The sun is starting to come up and I can see the color in them. They are beautiful and dark and I could get lost in them.

“Not many people are beautiful after crying,” he says quietly as he brushes the hair away from my face. “But you…are stunning, Scarlett.”

I blush at his compliment and look away. I feel his hand on my chin and I let him guide my face toward his. I have no idea what is happening until his lips meet mine. I close my eyes as I feel his tongue run over my bottom lip, coaxing it to move. I part my lips and our tongues meet, and I’m lost in him. I let him steal my soul with the kiss. I feel myself leave a little part of me in him. He’s seen me at my most vulnerable and he didn’t do the old “I’m sorry.” Or “time heals all.” Or the worst one, “I’m sure your dad’s in a better place now.” God, I hated all those sayings so much. I know people just wanted me to feel better, and they were trying to be nice, but shit, none of those words helped. But this kiss…this kiss helps because right now, I’m one hundred percent focused on how hot Rexton is. He’s large and muscular and tattooed. But he’s also surprisingly sweet and kind and smart. Why couldn’t I have met him in a better way? And why not at home? While we don’t live far apart, we don’t live that close either. Aside from a town name, I don’t know much about where he lives. I just know it’s not so close to me that I go there often. We could easily go our whole lives and never see each other again.

I push that thought aside as I move and slide my left leg over his hip so that I’m straddling him as we kiss. His giant hands grasp my hips and I rock against him. Fuck, I can feel his erection, and suddenly feeling it isn’t enough, I want to see it, touch it, taste it. Taste it? Where did that come from? I don’t give thought to it as I reach for the waistband of his shorts.

Just as I’m about to pull them down, there’s a knock at the door.

“Breakfast is served,” the voice says, and we both jump back like two kids caught making out on the sofa.

We look at each other. Rexton’s lips are swollen from our kiss. I blush and slowly get off him. He growls and pulls me back down.

“We should get going. The train station opens soon,” I say. His hard length is pressed against my center. There’s movement in the hallway as other guests wake. I can see him war over what he wants with the reality of the situation. Another time, another place…maybe, but not now.

We both come to this conclusion at the same time. His hands release me, and I climb off the bed and grab my clothes, shutting the bathroom door behind me, putting much-needed space between us.

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