War and Love Page 20

  “Then why’d you come?”

  Love flattens her palm, lifting it higher to show me the quarter. “I came down here to make a wish.”

  “Says the girl who doesn’t believe in wishes.”

  She rolls her eyes, biting back a smirk. “I know.”

  “Don’t let me stop you.” I move out of the way, ensuring her path to the fountain is unobstructed.

  Love readies her toss, focused ahead, but she stops, turning back to me. “Before I do this, I just wanted to tell you … when I said I loved you, I didn’t mean it … then. But before that? Before everything came crashing down? I knew it was coming. I was standing on that ledge, a single push away from falling.”

  Her eyes close, wincing for a moment.

  “I wish I could hate you, Jude,” she says. “I wish I could tell myself that I never want to see you again and actually believe it. But the truth is, I think about you every day. And maybe I shouldn’t, but I do, and I think about what you said, what your sister said, what my sister said … and that’s why I feel like … maybe … maybe we could try this again?”

  Her words, as unexpected as they are, bring an instant fullness where the void in my chest used to be.

  Moving closer, I cup her cheek, the way I’ve been dying to do every time I’ve seen her, but the second I remember the NDA, celebrating feels premature.

  “You know if Hunter sees us together …” I say, not wanting to finish my thought.

  “I can call my lawyer first thing Monday so we can work on filing charges and voiding your contract.” Love bites her lip for a moment, and I wonder if she feels the charge between us the same way I do. “If you want to fight this, that is …”

  Fighting this is the only way we can be together without the past lingering over us like a dark cloud, without the threat of Hunter lurking around the corner waiting to make a mess of the shattered remnants before we have a chance to glue all the pieces back together.

  Sliding my palm along her jaw, until my fingers are buried in her hair, I lower my mouth to hers.

  “Like hell,” I say. “We’ll fight like hell.”

  Grazing my lips against hers, I taste her mouth, slow and lingering, before stealing a kiss. A moment later, I slide my hands to her waist, hooking around the small of her back and pressing her against me. Love sighs before she melts in my arms, and our tongues dance to the sound of the trickling fountain that started it all.

  “You have no idea how happy you’ve made me,” I whisper into her ear before pressing kisses down the side of her neck.

  There are a hundred other ways I want to show her my appreciation, but none of them are exactly courtyard appropriate.

  As if she’s reading my mind, Love slips away, tucking her hand into mine, and leading me back inside The Jasper. A woman with a small dog in a designer bag waits by the elevator, sunglasses covering her eyes and her nose lifted in the air. It takes all the strength I have to restrain myself, but somehow, I manage. When the lady climbs out on the fourth floor, Love and I find ourselves alone, and the moment the elevator doors close, she’s all mine again.

  Pulling her close, I slide my hands down her thighs and lift her into my arms. Her legs wrap around my hips as she cups my face, her mouth twisted at the sides and red from my kiss. Within seconds, we arrive on her floor, but I don’t let her go.

  Carrying her down the hall, I press her back against her door once we arrive and taste the soft flesh of her neck.

  “Keys, Love,” I whisper, my lips pressed against her skin.

  “What?”

  “Your keys,” I say, my voice low. “I can’t wait another minute. I have to have you right fucking now.”

  She slides down my body, her back still pressed against the door, and when her feet reach the ground, she digs into her pocket and retrieves her key. While she works the lock, I wrap my hands around her waist, fingers teasing at the waistband of her jeans as she squirms against me.

  A decade later, we’re finally inside and all bets are off.

  Slamming the door behind me, I follow Love as she walks backward toward her room, peeling her shirt over her head and tossing it aside, followed by her black lace bra. By the time she works the button of her jeans, we’ve reached the doorway.

  By the time she backs into the bed, she’s completely naked, her body on full display like the work of fucking art that it is.

  Love slides onto the center of the bed, lying on her back, and I unfasten my jeans and slide them down before climbing over her and spreading her thighs. Running my fingertips along her delicate seam, I tease and circle before lowering myself to get a taste.

  She’s sweet and soft, wet for me, and hot to the touch, and my God, she’s all mine.

  When I’ve had my fill and she’s breathless and staggering on the edge of a long overdue climax, I grab a rubber from her nightstand where we used to keep them and climb over her again, running my palm along her outer thigh.

  Love reaches for me, tracing the peaks and valleys along my abs before digging her nails into the flesh on my hips and pushing me against her.

  She grinds against me like the tease she loves to be, and my cock throbs. Slicked in her arousal, I reach down, gripping my aching cock and teasing her clit until she squirms beneath me and begs for the real thing.

  Grabbing the rubber beside us, I rip the packet between my teeth and slide it down before lifting her legs over my shoulders. Love’s breathless sighs turn into moans the second I enter her, filling her to the hilt with every inch of me.

  I’m not used to being so animalistic with her, but that wild look in her golden gaze tells me she doesn’t mind a bit. I think we both needed to get this out of our system … we need one night of hair-pulling, clothes-ripping, lip-biting sex.

  Plunging my length into her again and again, faster and harder, I hold her thighs and drive myself deeper, steadying my rhythm as I watch for the rake of her teeth against her lips—her tell. A moment later, Love’s hips buck against my thrusts as she comes, and I lose myself in my own release.

  Collapsing beside her, our bodies hot and sticky, I brush the hair from her eyes before tracing her swollen mouth with my thumb.

  “I missed that so much,” she said, exhaling as if it was some secret she’d been harboring.

  “You have no idea,” I say, leaning in to steal a kiss.

  “But,” she says, pulling away. Her hair spills down her shoulder. “I have one request.”

  “Anything.”

  “After tonight … after we do what we’re going to do … can we take things slow?” she asks, one brow higher than the other. “I want to go slow. I want to enjoy this.”

  My mouth lifts in one corner as I drink in her beautiful glow in the warm daylight that filters through her window.

  “We’ll go as slow as you want. I’ve got all the time in the world.” Whatever it takes, whatever I have to do … I’ll do it.

  Love slides closer, cozying beneath my arm and pressing her cheek against my racing heart.

  “Jude?”

  “Yeah?”

  “How’d you get in the building earlier … I thought you were blacklisted?” she asks.

  Staring at the ceiling, I run my fingers through her hair and smirk. “I did some work for Raymond last month. Installed new faucets in his bathroom and kitchen and replaced a p-trap. He owed me a favor. I called it in.”

  “Wow.” She laughs through her nose, tracing her nails down the center of my chest. “Wait … so are you a plumber?”

  “I am.”

  Love sits up on her elbow studying me.

  “Is … that a problem?” I ask.

  Her brows knit, and I can’t tell if she’s thinking or if she’s angry.

  “No,” she says a moment later, biting her lip until it grows pinker. “I think it’s really freaking sexy that you can fix things around the house.”

  “You do?”

  Love nods.

  “Did I tell you I was a mechanic in the Army back
in the day?” I add.

  “Staaahp!” Her eyes roll to the back of her head. “That’s so damn hot.”

  I start to tell her about all the other things I can fix … radios, guitars, small kitchen appliances … but she shuts me up with a kiss, her lips hot like fire against mine.

  A second later, she’s climbing over me, straddling my hips, her wetness teasing my growing hardness with a slow grind. “Think I’m ready for an encore, Jude Warner.”

  “Anything you want.”

  I’d give this girl the world if she asked.

  Epilogue

  Jude

  One Year Later

  I thought a trip home would be a nice distraction for her, so I booked our flights and surprised her on a random Wednesday. Just so happened to be her mom’s birthday and Cameo’s baby shower, so it all worked out.

  Love’s phone has been blowing up the past few weeks as Hunter awaits arraignment for his spousal support fraud charges. The media is dying to hear what she has to say, but she won’t give them a single soundbite, always opting with a tried-and-true, “No comment.”

  The papers have been blasting him, painting him in a horrible light with a side of the most unflattering pictures they can dig up on the bastard. He looks like a deer in headlights in every one of them, always putting his hands out as he makes his way to his limousine from whatever chi chi eatery he still frequents.

  The board at Blue Stream Records wasted no time voting him out. That kind of publicity could bankrupt them, because all their musical acts would utilize the clause in their contracts specifically linked to bad behavior on either side.

  Personally, I think it’s fucking hilarious.

  And all of this because he couldn’t bear to part with a small fraction of his riches. I don’t even want to guess what he’s spending on legal fees right now.

  Some news outlets are speculating that his net worth is plummeting by the second, though I’m not sure where they’re getting that information. And Love isn’t the slightest bit worried. She has more than enough set aside and more than enough left over from the past year to keep Agenda W flourishing.

  Thank God no one’s come looking for me yet. Love’s attorney managed to negotiate to get me immunity for testifying against him. So far, my name hasn’t come up yet, but if this goes to trial, there’s a chance it could.

  Love assures me it’s a non-issue for her.

  Three nights ago, we arrived in Sweet Water. Yesterday was cake and ice cream. The day before that was Cameo’s baby shower since she and Bob are expecting a little girl any day now. Today we’ve spent the morning ambling around town, stopping into quaint shops and little cafes where everyone seems to know exactly who Love is. Their faces light the second they see her come in, and they all try to talk her ear off.

  Just an hour ago, we stepped into a little antique shop on Walnut Road. The owner kept leading us toward the jewelry case, and Love didn’t say much, but I saw her gaze wander toward a silver ring with a milky pearl stone in the middle and a halo of diamonds around it.

  The owner told us it once belonged to the wife of the town’s founder, who managed to keep it in the family for a couple of generations until the Great Depression hit. After that, the ring bounced from local family to local family, but it always seemed to come back.

  “That’s too bad,” Love said. “It’s so pretty. It deserves a good home.”

  “That it does,” the owner said to her as he winked at me.

  I waited until she sauntered off to some corner of the shop filled with vintage china sets before slipping the guy some cash. He counted it out, nodded, and then quietly took the ring out from its case and polished it with a dry cloth. A moment later, he slipped it into a small wooden box with navy blue velvet inside. When we were both sure she wasn’t looking, he slid it across the glass counter, and I shoved it in my pocket.

  We’ve only been together (officially) a year, but already I know I want to spend the rest of my life with this woman. But if I married her, she’d lose her alimony—assuming there’s much of anything left after his trial and all the negative publicity, and I wouldn’t do that to her or to her business. Things have been going exceedingly well for Agenda W this past year. So well, in fact, that she plans to open sister locations in each of the boroughs over the next five years.

  “Oh! There’s the fountain I wanted to show you,” Love pulls me across a blacktop street toward a sculpture of what appears to be a bronze mermaid. “It wasn’t here last time. I guess they share it with some town in Denmark? Anyway, this is based on Hans Christian Andersen’s Little Mermaid. My dad used to take me here all the time for coin tossing contests when I was a kid.”

  Love’s radiant eyes match the wide beam claiming her face.

  “Ten points for hitting her tail. Twenty for the seashell necklace,” she says, moving closer to the fountain. Stooping low, she scoops her hand across the top of the water, like she couldn’t resist. A moment later, she turns back toward me. “Hey, do you have any—” Love’s hands cup her gaping mouth. “What is … what is this? What are you doing?”

  Her gaze turns glassy as she takes two steps toward me, then another, and another.

  “This isn’t a marriage proposal,” I say, despite the fact that I’m down on one knee with a ring box propped in my hand.

  “Okay?” She’s laughing and crying, her hands flitting around her face. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m not asking you to marry me, Love. I’m asking you to spend the rest of your life with me.” My chest swells and my throat is tight, but I carry on. “I don’t care about labels and papers. I don’t care about making it legal or official. All I care about is you. Nothing more. Nothing less. So will you spend the rest of your life with me?”

  Her tear-brimmed eyes move toward the pearl ring resting in the wooden case in my hand, and she takes it from me.

  “When did you … how did you?”

  “I never knew how adorable you are when you get flustered.” I wink. “So what do you say?”

  She slips the vintage jewel over her left ring finger with ease, and I rise, towering over her and pulling her into my arms.

  “So is that a yes?” I ask.

  Rising on her toes, she cups my face in her sweet hands and kisses me soft and slow, like she never wants this moment to end.

  “That’s a yes.”

  THE END

  Dream Cast

  Love Aldridge – Michelle Williams

  Jude Warner – Justin Hartley

  Tierney Castle – JoAnna Garcia

  Lo Warner – Emma Stone

  Hunter LeGrand – Josh Henderson

  Cameo Aldridge – Beth Behrs

  Sneak Peek of P.S. I Miss You

  *Unedited and subject to change

  Chapter One

  Melrose

  I’ve been a dog-walker on an episode of Will & Grace.

  A bakery shop owner in a Lifetime movie.

  Ryan Gosling’s kid sister in an indie flick that never saw the light of day.

  Victim #2 in a season eighteen episode of Law & Order: SVU.

  But today I’m faced with my most challenging role yet; a camera-less reality show called Girl with Lifelong Crush on Best Guy Friend starring Melrose Claiborne as … Melrose Claiborne.

  Standing outside Nick Camden’s Studio City bungalow, I straighten my shoulders, smooth my blonde waves into place, and reach for the doorbell. The heavy thump of my heart suggests it’s going to fall to the floor the second he opens the door—but I’m hopeful the butterflies in my stomach will catch it first.

  He has this effect on me.

  Every. Single. Time.

  And that’s saying something because it takes a lot to make me nervous, to throw me off my game. But my crush on him has only intensified over the years, growing stronger with each unrequited year that passes.

  But last night, out of nowhere, Nick called me—which was strange because Nick never calls. He only ever texts. He’s so against
calling, in fact, that he has his ringer permanently set to “off’ and his voicemail box has been full for the last six and a half years.

  “Mel, I need to talk to you tomorrow,” he’d said, breathless almost. There was a hint of a smile in his tone, giddiness. “It’s really important.”

  “Nick, you’re scaring me,” I told him, half wondering if someone slipped something into his drink and he was drugged out of his mind. “What’s this about?”

  “I have to tell you in person. And I have something to ask you, something crazy important,” he said. “Oh, my god. This is insane. I’m so fucking nervous, Mel. But as soon as you get here tomorrow, I’ll tell you. I’ve been wanting to tell you about this for a long time, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t until now. But now I can. And I can’t fucking wait. This is huge, Mel. This is … oh, God.”

  “Nick …” I paced my bedroom floor, my left palm clasped across my forehead. In nearly two decades of friendship, I’d never heard Nick so worked up before. “Can’t you just tell me now?”

  “Come over tomorrow. Around three,” he’d said. “This is something that needs to be done in person.”

  I ring his doorbell again before checking the time on my phone. Stifling a yawn, I rise on my toes and try to peek inside the glass sidelights of his front door. Knowing Nick, he probably got side-tracked or ran out for burritos and got caught up in conversation with someone he knows.

  Then again … he was pretty insistent about talking to me in person at three o’clock about this “major” thing. I can’t imagine he’d space this off.

  All night, I tossed and turned, trying to wrap my head around what this could possibly be, how I could know someone for so long and fail miserably trying to get a read on them.