Bound to Surrender (South Jersey Bound Series) (9 page)

BOOK: Bound to Surrender (South Jersey Bound Series)
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Lisa rolled her eyes. “Chris got spanked and thinks she isn’t normal.”

Jillian’s look was priceless. “How do you know it’s not normal? I’ve been dying to find someone who’ll,” she looked around and lowered her voice, “spank me.”

“If I am doing something I can’t tell my grand-mother,” Christina replied, “It’s not normal.”

Lisa wrinkled her nose. “You tell your Grammy about ‘normal’ sex?”

Christina laughed. “Good point.”

“Okay.” Jillie set both hands on the table. “Aside from the kink, do you like him?”

“Damn,” Lisa said. “Look at her blush.”

“I like him, okay? I just don’t know if I can deal.”

Jillie’s gaze slid to Lisa.

“I told her,” Lisa answered Jillie’s unspoken question.

“Well, if kink works for Ben and Lisa, it can work for you.” Jillian paused while her mouth hung open.

“Jillie?”
Lisa prompted.

Jillian smiled slowly. “And, I just decided on a solution to my spank-less existence.”

“What?” Christina and Lisa asked simultaneously.

“I’ve been fantasizing about spanking since before my first kiss. Why should you two have all the fun?”

“Do you have someone in mind?” Christina couldn’t believe she was having this conversation. Odder still, she was hoping Jillie would find someone as skilled as Bryce.

Jillian nodded. “Eric.”

“Eric, Ben’s best man?” Lisa asked.

Jillie’s cheeks pinked. “I bet he’s...you know...into stuff.”

Lisa cocked her head to the side and nodded. “Seems plenty alpha to me.”

Christina bit her lip. Jil was going to risk her pride to get what Christina already had.

Ben had grown up with her and Jillie and Eric, but Lisa had come into their lives through Ben, so Lisa probably didn’t know about Jillie’s life-long crush on Eric. Jil was laying it all on the line.

“This is huge,” Christina said.

The waitress delivered the shots.

“Lisa is marrying Ben,” Jillie said, “and you are having hot, wild sex with...”

“Bryce,” Christina supplied.

“Ooh, nice name,” Lisa said.

“I know,” Christina replied.

“Hey,” Jillie interrupted. “As I was saying, if you all can do it, so can I. I’m gonna get my man.”

Her man.
In her mind, Christina kneeled at Bryce’s feet while he placed a warm and comforting hand on her head. If she could trust him with her pain, why couldn’t she trust him with her heart?

Lisa lifted her shot. “To bright red bottoms.”

“And the men who get us there,” Jillie added.

Christina lifted her shot.

To Bryce.

She knocked back her drink.

And the messy, scary start of a new life.

****

Christina needed to talk to her son before she braved seeing Bryce. Unfortunately, Michael hadn’t answered his cell, and when she’d tried his other number, his father had picked up.

“Tell Mike I called when he gets in, would you?” she asked her ex.

Joe was silent for a long moment. “Do you have anything you want to tell me about?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing, I just thought maybe... Oh, never mind. How have things been going?”

“Fine,” she answered warily. “How is Marie?” Two years and she could finally say his new wife’s name without feeling nauseous.

“Good. She and Michael have called a truce.”

“Really?”
Christina thought she would feel jealous, but the lightness in her heart seemed more akin to relief. “How did that happen?”

“Softball.”

“What?”

“Soft. Ball,” he enunciated.

“I heard you,” she said, rolling her eyes.

“When Marie was in high school, her team made it to the state championship. They’ve been trading war stories.”

Great.
Athletes.

“Christina?”

She didn’t like the sound of his voice...too serious.

“Are you going to be okay when Michael goes to boarding school?”

She’d been avoiding thinking about it, knowing she’d have a few weeks with Michael in August. “I’m putting off dealing with it.”

“Avoidance is what you do best.”

“Good-bye, Joe.”

“Wait. Sorry, I shouldn’t have baited you. There is something I want to say.”

Christina cocked her head. “Yes?”

“You did a good job raising Mike.”

Whoa
. No words came. A funny sensation burned behind her eyes.

“I know you and I have had our differences,” Joe said. “But Michael is amazing. He’s really good at communicating, and he never shies away from difficult things. I just said you avoid things, but that’s really not true.”

Christina threw up her wall. “You just feel guilty about putting me through this boarding school thing.”

“This school’s going to give him opportunities we can’t. But if you truly have concerns, let’s talk.”

Pain seared through Christina’s chest. She pressed her lips together and waited for it to pass. She pictured her son the night he’d told her he wanted to give boarding school a try.

“No. Michael wants to go.” As she said the words, she knew they were true.

“That doesn’t mean it’s going to be easy for you.”

Christina pulled the phone away from her ear and looked at it as if it were broken. Who was this man? Not the Joe she knew.

“Christina?”

This was just too weird. “I, um, gotta go.”

“One more thing.”

“What’s that?”

“Relationships can work sometimes. Just because I was an ass doesn’t mean you shouldn’t try again.”

What the hell? “Where is all this coming from?”

“I think you know. Just know I don’t blame you.”

Oh, shit.
There was only one explanation for Joe’s sudden chattiness. He knew she was seeing someone.

“How do you know?” She demanded.

“What?” Joe asked.

“I know your lying voice. You know I’ve been seeing someone.
How?”

“Michael’s coach was here earlier today.”

“What?” She nearly screeched. She was going to kill Bryce, dismember him limb by limb.

“He came because Mike asked him to help him practice. Tryouts are next week, and Mike said he needed to work on his swing.”

Well, maybe she’d leave Bryce’s throwing arm intact.

“How the hell did I come up? Were you trading war stories, too?”

She knew she sounded irrational, but she couldn’t understand how this had happened. She’d wanted time to break this to Michael. But, time had just run out.

“Don’t be like that,” Joe insisted. “How was I supposed to know Michael was going to ask about him and you? I didn’t even know you were dating.”

Neither did she.
Her head pounded.

“What did Michael say?”

“Apparently one of Michael’s friends said they saw you two having ice cream, then, later the same day, they saw his car at your place. Michael asked what was going on. Mr. Walker told him you’ve been seeing each other and that he hopes it will last.”

“Damn,” she said.

“I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“I’m not upset.”

“You’re being sarcastic. That’s another thing you do...”

“No, really?”

“Okay, maybe now’s not a good time. I was just trying to tell you I’m happy for you. He seems like a good guy.”

“I don’t believe this.” She shook her head.
“How did Michael leave things with Bry—Mr. Walker?”

“Michael told him it was weird, but said he was glad you won’t be alone when he leaves.”

Oh, God.

“I’m coming over,” she said. “I have to see Michael.”

****

By the end of her day with Michael, Christina had assured herself that her son really was okay, or at least dealing with the trifecta—living with his father, going to boarding school, and knowing his Mom was dating.

Joe had been right. Somehow Mike had acquired maturity beyond his years. She assured Michael he’d always come first, and he’d responded by saying he was growing up and breaking off on his own, and she needed to do the same.

Mr. Walker’s a good guy, Mom.

The whole idea of her son calling Bryce freaked her out, but what was done was done. After their weird distance the other morning, Bryce could have said there wasn’t anything going on, but he hadn’t.

Which meant there was hope.

She brushed her hair back and urged herself for the third time to get her ass out of her car and ring Bryce’s bell.

She sank back into the seat and closed her eyes. She sat listening to her breath and feeling the heat constrict her lungs. A knock on her window disturbed her silence.

She opened her eyes and met Bryce’s unreadable gaze. He opened her door.

“It’s too hot to be sitting in a car,” he said. “Come inside.”

“You don’t have any air conditioning.”

“I fixed the damn thing. Come in. You want to, or you wouldn’t be here.”

“Look who knows so much,” she said, getting out of the car.

He closed her door behind her and braced himself with one arm. She leaned against her trunk, remembering all the post
-game chats they’d had in exactly this position.

She’d wanted him all along.

“Hello Mr. Walker,” she said.

“Hello Ms. Welch,” he replied.

His dark v-neck tee clung in all the right places. “You’re right. I want to come in.”

He looked away, but took her hand. Cradling her palm with firm fingers, he led her to his place. He opened the door and straddled his threshold.

“Ladies first,” he said.

She expected a typical I-don’t-put-any-thought-into
-my-home bachelor pad. His apartment surprised her by being a warm and soothing grey. His relatively new furniture looked masculine but relaxing. She could be comfortable here.

“Have a seat,” he said.
“Drink?”

“No, thanks, but you go ahead.”

He lifted the beer already in his hand and she bit her lower lip. “I was getting myself a drink when I saw your car.”

“Your place is different than I expected,” she said.

He snorted. “Did you expect some sort of BDSM dungeon with rows of caged sex slaves?”

She wrinkled her nose. He deserved at least one zinger.

“On the second thought, I think I’ll take that drink.”

“All I have is porter and energy drinks.”

“Porter’s my favorite beer.”

He made a low groaning noise. “And she likes dark beer, too.”

He opened a bottle and started to reach for a glass.

“Don’t worry about a glass, the bottle’s enough.”

“Even better,” he said.

She ran her fingers across the cold, wet bottle as Bryce sat at her side.

“I saw Michael today.”

He sucked in. “How’s he doing?”

“I could ask you the same question.”

His gaze flitted between her eyes. “He asked me not to tell you we had talked. Look, I’m sorry. He called me for help with tryouts, and then ambushed me. I guess those kids at the ice cream
shop were more aware than we thought. Word traveled fast.”

“Well, he was going to find out sooner or later.” She held her breath, but he didn’t speak. “That is, if we are still ‘seeing’ each other.”

Bryce ran his hand through his hair.

“Are we?” she asked.

****

The million-dollar question.

She had said she was scared, and he’d vowed to give her space so she could figure things out. Keeping his distance these past few days had taken every ounce of his strength, his control. Hell, he would have left her in the car if he hadn’t become worried she’d suffer heat stroke.

“How would you like me to answer?” he asked.

“Truthfully.”

“I will always tell you the truth. But, I’m asking for your opinion, not your advice.”

“My opinion? To quote a poet I know, ‘there is together and there is apart. The choice is always made in faith.”’

“And?” he prompted.

“And, I want together.” She closed her eyes and rested her head on his shoulder. “I
really
want together.”

He could not deny her, or his gut’s primal call. But he could control the pace—slow and steady.

“If we are going to make this work, we have to get as comfortable with each other out of bed as we are in it.”

“I know,” she said.

He set down his beer. It was a shame to waste his drink after only a few sips, but there were more important things than getting hammered. He picked his keys up from the coffee table.

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