Another Shot At Love (41 page)

The sound of water lapping against the pontoon boat lulled me to a place between sleep and awake. My body lay curled around Matt, who dozed beside me. It was hard to believe we'd been together only four months, when it felt as if we’d known each other forever. The connection had always been there, from that very first night.

I smiled with the memory and snuggled into him.

For mid-September, it was unusually hot and very dry. The sky was clear, the sun unrelenting, and my skin was slick with sweat and sunblock. I wasn’t complaining. Soon, it would be winter, and I didn’t like the cold. This winter it wouldn’t be so bad, though. I’d have Matt to keep me warm, and his arms to hold me tight.

With my eyes closed, my ears picked up the hum of a trolling motor somewhere on the lake, but mostly my senses were focused on Matt. His hand rested lightly over my arm splayed across his chest and I marveled at how easily his skin tanned—I was pale against him. He had one leg bent and propped up and my hips were placed snug against his side, one of my legs resting between his and there was no space between us.

We fit perfectly together. Like a jigsaw puzzle. The side of my face snuggled into his chest, damp with sweat. He smelled of the sunscreen I’d rubbed all over him. Our breathing matched, his heartbeat thrumming in time with mine. I could have leaned up just slightly to kiss the skin just below his jaw, my favorite spot, but I didn’t want to wake him.

Instead, I smiled as the water gently rocked the boat.

The more time I spent with him, the harder it was to see my life without him. Being with him gave me courage I hadn’t known I lacked. With him by my side, I’d taken my paintings to a gallery in Omaha, an hour away. Because of him and his encouragement, I would have my own exhibit. My mind still reeled over the opportunity. Having my own artwork displayed was a dream come true.

No words could describe the depth of love I felt for the man beside me. I wanted to shout it to the rooftops and immerse myself in “us” every day for the rest of my life. The ring on my finger reminded me how much he loved me, too. No, it wasn’t an engagement ring, but it was more than a promise ring—it was his mother’s pearl. I hadn’t questioned its meaning since the moment he’d slid the ring onto my finger—I saw the devotion in his gaze, and felt it in the way he’d kissed me.

Matt stirred beside me and his hand moved over my arm to my waist. My skin tingled with his touch. His hand rested on my butt and pulled me lightly up against him. I allowed him to lift me from his side to settle me on top of his chest.

“What are you thinking about? You’ve got that little wrinkle between your brows again.”

Answering him was difficult because his fingertips were grazing the back of my tank top, up and down with a feather-light touch. I managed to say, “Stuff.”

His lips tugged up into the little lopsided smile I loved. “Stuff? What kind of stuff?”

My heart thumped wildly in my chest. Could he feel it? “You’re great, you know that?”

His eyes grew serious and the smile faded. “You’re great, too.”

My thoughts turned to something that had been on my mind lately. “Ever since we met with the gallery, I’ve been thinking maybe I should open my own.”

“Gallery?”

I nodded, the idea still bringing butterflies of excitement and apprehension to my belly. “Yes, right here in Lincoln. I know quite a few artists who haven’t had any luck placing their pieces with the more conservative, old-fashioned galleries. It would be very modern and eclectic. Something completely different than what the other galleries in Nebraska have to offer.”

I relaxed my shoulders and molded my body to his again. With my cheek against his shirt, I listened to his heart beating in a steady, calm pulse.

His voice vibrated through his chest when he said, “I think it’s an amazing idea, Gen. A room full of your paintings for others to see—how could it not be perfect?”

“You think so?”

He kissed the top of my head. “Yes, I do. There’s nothing wrong with you working at the insurance company, but since I’ve been with you, I know you’re not happy there. You miss working in a gallery—why not work in a gallery of your own? There’s no reason to keep those paintings of yours locked up in your spare room for the rest of your life. They’re meant to be seen.”

“Thank you for believing in me.” I pushed myself up to a sitting position to straddle his hips, the thin material of his basketball shorts and my plaid shorts the only separation between us. I settled my hands on the middle of his chest, very aware of him beneath me. I shifted, just a little, and he hardened beneath me. A ghost of a smile touched his lips and my cheeks warmed. “Maybe you can help me look for shop space downtown.”

“Downtown’s a great location.” He propped his head up with his arm folded beneath it and his right hand moved on my bare leg, inching up toward the hem of my shorts. A thrill of excitement coursed through me and I scanned the lake. The little johnboat that had been putting around earlier was docked across the rippling blue surface. And even if there was someone standing on the bank somewhere, a person would need a pair of binoculars to see what was happening in the pontoon.

“We’re in a boat,” I reminded him, just in case he’d forgotten.

“
Mm-hm
.” He didn’t seem interested in anything but the circles he was rubbing on my bare thigh.

“And my family will be here soon, too. For the barbeque. Remember?”

“How could I forget? I was ordered not to step foot in my kitchen. Apparently, the women will be taking over.”

“They’ll be here in thirty minutes,” I said, looking down at my watch. My family would show up with their fishing poles, baby bouncers, coolers full of more food than any of us needed, or would ever manage to eat, and laughter. Matt's family would be here too. We weren’t celebrating anything special; I’d been lucky enough to have met a man whose family was just as important to him as my family was to me. There would be a lot of these barbeques in our future.

“
Mm-hm
, I remember,” he murmured, but he didn’t seem too concerned there wasn't much time before we needed to head to shore. Once we got there, we would both pick up an infant to cradle in our arms, and hog every dimple we could before someone stole them away from us. Lately I'd had baby fever, which pleased Matt immensely. And my parents. I was pretty sure they were even more baby eager than I; they'd taken to being grandparents very well. I still had time before I'd be painting a mural in my own child's nursery—at twenty-three, there was no rush. I had dreams to accomplish first.

Matt shifted again beneath me, the friction between the bulge in his shorts and the wetness between my thighs made my thigh muscles twitch.

“Okay,” I said breathlessly. “Just so you know.”

The heat of desire pulsed low in my belly. He shifted ever so slightly, just enough to rub against me again.

“Once they get here, your sisters will steal you away.” He fake-pouted and I socked his shoulder.

“You know Lexie’s having a hard time right now.” I frowned as I pictured her, because my twin had been the most unhappy that I’ve ever seen her. Ever since the botched engagement party, Lexie had been living in a drama that had ignited her shoe obsession. She’d also started stress-eating carbs like crazy, and spent hours torturing her body at the gym. She’d been through so much and her dream wedding was turning into a real nightmare. I wanted her to call off the wedding, but she wouldn’t. She was holding out for the fairytale.

Matt interrupted my thoughts. "Or, Roxanna will have some private-investigation-type story involving tasers and cheating spouses that will take at least an hour of your time."

“Yes, well, you’ll spend the rest of the day fishing with our dads and when you do finally talk to me it’ll be about how exciting fishing was.” I wrinkled my nose. “Boring.”

“I really like these shorts,” he said, ignoring my comment. “Have I told you that?”

His fingers inched higher now, just teasing the skin a half inch under the hem of the cotton. I shook my head. “No, you haven’t.”

If he didn’t knock it off soon, my worry about getting caught would jump overboard into the cold lake water. Or maybe
I’d
have to jump overboard to clear my fuzzy thoughts.

“Well, I do like them. A lot.” His hand cupped my upper thigh and his thumb rested between the shorts and my panties.

“
Mmm
,” was all I could manage because his thumb had begun a small, feather-light circular motion against the already-moist material. His hazel eyes, framed in long dark lashes, peered up at me in a hot gaze I knew meant he was about to make me not care if a helicopter were to hover right above the pontoon.

His left hand grasped my waist while his thumb worked its magic, adjusting me so his bulge rested against the part of me that had grown impossibly damp. I moaned and caught my bottom lip between my teeth.

In one swift motion he sat up, both hands around my waist, and rocked me against him. His lips captured mine in a deep kiss, sucking my lower lip before kissing it softly.

“I want to be inside of you,” he whispered against my mouth.

“Matt,” I moaned.

He didn’t let me say anything more. He caught my lips again with his while he picked up me up and laid me back against the seat. He pulled my tank top over my head and pushed my bra down with his thumbs so he could fasten his lips over my nipple. I moaned again and arched against him. His hand trailed down my bare stomach and I held my breath when his fingers passed under the elastic band of my shorts. I didn’t breathe again until his fingers touched between my legs, and I whispered, “Hurry.”

But he didn’t hurry. He took his time loving me. I didn’t open my eyes again until the moment he slid inside of me. I was blinded by the sun’s brilliance and the thought that, for the rest of my life, he would make me feel this way. I was lost in the sensation of him, of his love, of our life together. His lips covered mine as I cried out. He held me in his arms, our bodies slick with sweat.

“I’ll make you happy for the rest of your life, Gennie,” he whispered to me. He kissed the tip of my nose. “I love you.”

I drew in a deep breath.

So this is what real love is like.
I could definitely get used to it.

THE END

A word about the author...

Once upon a time, there was a young girl who wrote sappy poetry about every relationship gone wrong. She had her heart broken many times before the man of her dreams stepped off a big Navy ship and swept her off her feet, promising to never hold her shoe obsession against her.