Four Weddings and a Break Up (3 page)

BOOK: Four Weddings and a Break Up
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He lowered his head to the swell of her breasts. His tongue darted out, lapping up the spilled beer, tasting the tartness of the alcohol and the crisp scent of lemons. He traveled up until he was at her neck and felt her pulse skip like a pebble on a lake. He licked her stubborn chin, up to her pouty mouth, and she trembled in his arms.

He dipped his tongue along the bottom of her mouth like a painter’s brush, tracing the shape of her, and then the seam. Her lips tasted like apples. A whimper of need escaped her. She was soft, and he couldn’t help but nip at her lower lip.

She opened, but he didn’t enter. Not yet. He wanted to kiss her, taste her, know her, and find out why he couldn’t get enough of just her kiss. His lips weren’t gentle on hers. He demanded and urged, throwing caution to the wind. He didn’t even know her name.

With that thought, he lifted his head. Her eyes were closed, her lips parted and reddened from his kisses, all traces of her lip gloss gone, and he leaned down to kiss her again. Once. Twice. He started to get lost again in that succulent mouth of hers. They were getting swept away in the heat of the moment, and he was all too willing to enjoy every moment.
Her name,
he thought. He wanted to know what it was.

“What’s your name?”

Slowly, she opened her eyes. A tendril of dark brown hair rested against her creamy neck. His fingers toyed with the end of the silky strand, and he gently brushed it back behind her ear. Before she could answer, his lips were on her neck, nibbling and licking, tasting the light lemon scent that clung to her as he kissed a pathway up to her earlobe. He slipped out her long silver earring, pocketed it, and then placed both hands against the wall on either side of her head.

He took her earlobe in his mouth, gently nipping. Her breath caught. He was getting distracted. He let go just enough so his lips brushed her ear.

“Tell me your name, sugar.”

“Ginny.”

Ginny. Cute. “I’m Wes.”

“Wes,” she repeated softly.

It took some effort, but he stepped away. He didn’t want to touch her when he said this—he didn’t want her to feel pressured. He wanted it to be her choice. If she said no, he’d walk back into the bar.

“I want you. Here. Now.”

“We don’t even know each other.”

It didn’t matter. Not tonight. Not now. “I still want you.”

She swallowed. “Me?”

“See anyone else?” He made a show of looking around. “Yeah. You.”

“I . . .” Ginny ran her hand through her hair. “I’ve never done this—had sex with a man I didn’t know.”

Her vulnerability touched him. Maybe she didn’t know what she would be getting herself into. Maybe he didn’t either—he didn’t have one-night stands. Maybe she would expect something more if they had sex. But he stared at her mouth, remembered the heat of her and how he wanted more, and decided to hell with tomorrows and what could happen. Right now,
this
was all that mattered.

“Do you want me?”

“Yes.” She ducked her head, shyly.

He placed his fingers under her chin and lifted it until her eyes met his. He needed to see the truth in her expression. If there was any hesitation, if there was any doubt he’d leave. “Now?”

She licked her lips. “Yes, but—”

“No buts. No regrets. Just now.”

“Just now,” she said slowly. “I have to live a little. Take chances. Have fun.”

He wondered what she was referring to and decided it didn’t matter—not if it brought her into his arms. Besides, her statement echoed his earlier thoughts. He was living a little tonight and taking chances, too. He wanted her, but he’d never gotten so carried away that he’d done this before. She was different, and she made him want to be different. A dangerous combination.

“Yes. Have fun.”
With me
.

Ginny stepped closer to him, her hands raising to his chest, but stopped inches away from making contact.

He wanted to know
her
touch.

She took a deep breath. Her hands lifted, her right landing on his shoulder, her left softly touching the side of his face. He turned his head, kissing her palm.

“Wes.” Her voice came out shaky.

Her index finger traced his lips oh so slowly, torturing him with a tease of seduction. When her finger darted across his seam, he opened and drew her in. He whorled his tongue around her, mimicking what he wanted to do to her down there, and imagined how she would taste.

He let go of her finger and returned to her mouth, kissing her deep, his tongue sliding against hers, finally getting that first true taste of her. She didn’t taste like alcohol, lemons, or apples. She tasted like sugar. Spun sugar that was spinning its web around him.

She threw her head back, offering her neck to him.

He took.

He scattered kisses down her throat. Goose bumps appeared on her arms when he lingered on the curve of her neck. His thumbs brushed over her nipples. The thin cotton material did little to bar him from feeling how they pebbled and tightened. He lowered her shirt until he could lift one breast free of the nude cotton bra. Her nipple puckered even more, and he dipped his head, closing his mouth around her tip, pulling deep.

She let out a loud moan and tugged him closer. His other hand trailed down her silk skirt, inching it upward over her smooth thigh. He rubbed circles over her skin as he kissed his way back up to her mouth.

Her eyes were glazed, heavy with lust. His fingers inched closer to her panties, then rubbed over her. He needed to feel her around him, enclosing him. He pushed her panties to the side and finally touched her.

He groaned. “You’re so wet.”

She bit her lip. “Good?”

“So good.”

Pushing past her curls, he stroked her. She made an inarticulate sound of pleasure that had his cock straining even more. He centered on her pleasure, learning what made her cry out. When he inserted one finger into her entrance and her muscles clenched around him, he gritted his teeth and prayed that he wouldn’t come in his jeans.

Wes wanted to make sure she was ready; he didn’t want to leave her behind, unsatisfied. He pumped inside, and she pulled his head down to hers, where their mouths meshed, and hunger overruled everything.

She leaned back, her lips inches away from his. “Condom?”

He nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

Breaking free for a moment, she took off her panties. He grabbed them from her and stuffed them in the back pocket of his jeans.

“Now, Wes. Now.”

He took out a foil packet, ripping it open.

“Let me.”

Like he would object. With deft hands, she rolled the condom over his length, squeezing him lightly.

“Keep doing that and I’m not going to last long.”

She gave him one last caress, but when she looked up at him, her eyes were shadowed with guilt. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. I like when you touch me. I just want to be inside you when I come.”

“Oh.”

He wondered how experienced she was. She’d admitted to not having a one-night stand, but that didn’t mean anything in this day and age. There was a combination of innocence and sultriness about her. Wes hesitated. He didn’t want to hurt her. Even though she said yes and that she wanted to have fun and live a little, he wanted to make absolutely sure. So that there were no regrets afterwards.

“Are you sure about this? We can stop.”

“No, I don’t want to stop.” She raised her arms above her head, one breast bared, the other covered. A modern day
Venus di Milo
. “I want you.”

And he wanted her. Relieved that she wanted to continue, he pressed himself against her, lifting one of her legs around his hips. He started to raise her other leg.

She pressed her hands against his chest. “I’m heavy.”

Heavy? He snorted. “Listen, sugar, you’re perfect just as you are.”

Shock flickered across her face, and he had this sudden urge to hurt anyone who had made her think that she wasn’t. Aw, hell, he needed to be inside her before he started doing something stupid, like composing poetry to her pouty, kissable mouth.

Her legs wrapped around his waist, and he had his cock poised at her entrance when the skies opened up. Rain sluiced around them, their clothes sticking to their bodies, her clothed breast just as naked as her bared one. Her hair plastered to her face, and he brushed the slick strands away. He pressed his mouth against hers, capturing her gasp when he thrust inside. Thunder boomed and the earth shook from the force of it. Or maybe it was just them, finally coming together.

She was so tight, so hot, so wet around him. His hands tightened on her ass, bringing her up higher as he withdrew and pushed back inside. A flash of lightning lit up the sky, illuminating her flushed face. Damn, she was so beautiful. She fluttered kisses on his face. Then she scraped her teeth lightly against his jaw, nipping him on the chin. When she took his bottom lip and sucked it, something inside him snapped.

He slammed in and out of her, hitting her deep inside. Her fingers scratched over his back, and if he hadn’t still been wearing his shirt, Wes knew he would have been marked.

She was tightening around him, spiraling out of control. As was he. He bent to lave her nipple with his tongue, then suckled her into his mouth as he pounded into her. She said something—maybe his name—he couldn’t make it out over the din of his heartbeat, the rain, and the thunder that approached nearer and nearer. He could barely function or think beyond
this
.

He pulled out, waiting until she opened her eyes. Then he thrust back inside, hitting the sweet spot that made her scream and shatter, and drove him over the edge with her. As he came, another tremble shook her frame, almost an aftershock of her orgasm. Her sigh of satisfaction stole through his body. He pressed his forehead against hers, willing his pulse to return to normal. Hoping the storm inside him would fade away.

That wasn’t going to happen anytime soon.

When he felt that they had regained some control, he set her down. She wobbled a bit, and he quickly steadied her. Rain continued to pour, and droplets of water ran down her face. Her shirt was soaked clear through, leaving little to the imagination. He wanted to bend her over and take her from behind. This time, he’d take her slow and sweet, teasing her until she fell apart in his arms. Just like that, he was hard. All over again.

He shifted on his feet, trying to ignore the growing bulge in his jeans.
Please don’t let her eyes go down that way
. He was a weak man. He’d have her, again and again and again. And he wanted to keep this as it was: a one-night stand. He wasn’t meant for anything long-term, given how his dad had cheated on his mom, his commitment issues, and his fairly recent break-up. He’d left his ex because she wanted marriage, and he was nowhere near ready for that sort of thing. For his sake, he needed to put up the walls. Now. That way, Ginny would get the picture.

But first he needed to make sure she was fine. She hadn’t moved since they’d broken apart, and that worried him slightly. “You okay?”

She blinked at him, like he was asking the stupidest question on the planet. Perhaps he was. She laughed and spread out her arms. “Am I okay? Yes.” She twirled, her skirt flaring out. “I could sing and dance right now with how okay I am.”

He couldn’t stop his grin or the male pride that washed through him after pleasuring his woman.
His
? That wasn’t right. She was only
a
woman. No possessive pronoun whatsoever. “That’s not necessary.”

“I was only dared to kiss you, give you my number, and ask you out.”

He was still wrapping his mind around the dare bit. It disturbed him that he was bothered by it—that the only reason she’d come out here was because someone had pushed her to do so. He had thought she had also lived in the moment, and that she’d come out here. Hell, he didn’t know what he was thinking right now. But if his mom were still alive, she’d tell him that he needed to get his head out of his ass and make up his mind.

“This was a dare?”

“Just a kiss. And the number and—”

“I got it.”

“Are you mad?”

Mad? He snorted. “No.”

Her brows drew together in confusion as she pushed wet hair off her face. “I was at a bachelorette party—not mine—and everyone noticed I couldn’t keep my eyes off you, so they dared me to go after what I wanted. You.”

“Let’s just keep this to what it was.”

“Which was?”

Did he really have to spell it out to her any clearer? It looked like he did. “A great night of hot sex. A one-night stand.”

“Well.” Ginny headed for the door, opened it partway, and turned back to him with a small smile on her face. “Thanks for being my first in that. I’ll definitely know what to look for in my next one-night stand.”

Wait. What? Her next?

Before he stormed after her, Wes stopped himself from being an idiot. He’d cleared the situation between them, and she’d agreed that a one-night stand was all they had. It was exactly what he’d wanted. Right?

Anyway, it wasn’t like she was going to disappear, or find some other guy by the time he got back inside. She was at a bachelorette party. She’d be there for the rest of the night.

Except when he searched the crowd, she was nowhere to be found.

Chapter Two

T
he next morning
, Ginny made a resolution. She was never going to drink again.

Everyone at her table had taken one look at her—soaked to the bone, yet flushed with pleasure—and immediately started asking questions.

Julie merely grinned and said, “Looks like you won.”

Somehow, she convinced them to leave, and the limo they’d hired for the evening dropped her off at the hotel. She’d been embarrassed about what she had done—having sex with Wes outside a bar. She’d never done that, but she got so caught up in him. And she had wanted him so badly that she silenced the angel on her shoulder and listened to the devil on the other. It had also been her chance to do something completely out of character.

The fact that Wes had been interested in
her
had sent shockwaves through her system. It was one thing to consider the possibility, but for it to actually be fact. Well, a man like Wes wouldn’t be into her. So she had thrown caution to the wind and had really fabulous, world-rocking sex.

But afterward, when he had defined what it was, the impact of what she had done hit her. At that point, she had just wanted to get the hell out of there. Thank God she never had to run into him again. That “one-night stand” could stay a secret of sorts.

Then she’d been even more embarrassed that her shirt had become transparent. And that she hadn’t gotten back her panties. Luckily, her sister gave her an oversized cardigan to cover herself up, so she’d been able to enter the hotel looking moderately respectable, even though she resembled a drowned rat. After checking out this morning, they left Atlantic City and headed back home to Cape Hope.

She avoided any questions and diverted the subject to Deb’s wedding. It worked like a charm as Julie and Deb started talking about ice sculptures and dresses. Ginny stopped paying attention and thought about Mr. Dangerous. Wes. As the buildings got smaller and smaller, so did any chance of her running into him again.

Not like it would matter anyway. They both made it clear what had happened. A one-night stand. Except, if one were to split hairs, it had been more like quick, hot sex. Either way, it’d been the first time she’d done something like that. It was so unlike her. And although she should feel guilty for having sex with a complete stranger . . . she didn’t. Not exactly.

Perhaps she would feel guiltier if she actually knew Wes. They were never going to see each other again, so no one would find out that she’d done that. Plus, who would complain after having sex with Mr. Dangerous?

Except that wasn’t what it was all about. There had been a connection last night—and their time together had made the sex different. In a really, really good way. It had been so freeing in a way to not act so constrained and worried over things she couldn’t control.

Ginny pondered her sister’s statement from the previous night. Had she won the dare?

They passed an elderly woman selling fresh strawberries from a stand on the side of the road. The cornflower-blue sky stretched endlessly, broken up by wispy clouds and a hazy sun. Even in her sister’s air-conditioned car, the heat was palpable.

His kisses had burned her in the most delicious way. And his eyes had gone from stormy gray to molten silver. The memory of his unshaven jaw against her skin, and how he’d lost control as he pounded into her—

Wes had wanted her.

She smiled.

Tall, dark, handsome, and dangerous had wanted
her
. He wanted her so much he’d taken her against a brick wall in the pouring rain with thunder booming and lightning striking in the distance. For one glorious moment, she’d been powerful. She’d been desired and pleasured, and had made him feel that way, too.

Hell yes, she’d won.

The car slowed to a stop in front of her apartment building. She was home. Ginny grabbed her duffel bag from the trunk, and her sister rolled down her window.

“You’re okay, right?”

She heard the underlying worry. “I’m okay.”

“If you want to talk about anything,” Julie said quietly so Deb couldn’t hear, “you know I’m here. I wouldn’t even tell Mom.”

Ginny smiled at the offer, but she didn’t tell Julie much. She tended to keep a lot of things to herself. “Thanks, Julie, but I’m fine.”

She waited until they drove away before she headed into her apartment. Placing her duffel bag on her bed, Ginny put the clothes she needed to wash in a hamper and tucked everything else away. She headed to the small washer and dryer, started a load, and walked to the fridge.

Her freezer was nearly empty, although there was still a Ding Dong left in its package. She needed to hit the market later. For now, she bit into the crispy chocolate shell, the soft cake, and the creamy center. And sighed in pleasure. It was almost as good as sex.

But not quite.

W
es arrived
in Cape Hope around ten. Since it was Memorial Day weekend, the traffic had been heavier than usual. Even with his windows closed, he could smell the sea-salt air and hear the roar of the waves. On either side, Victorian houses blanketed the streets, almost like dominoes stacked next to each other. Most had signs proclaiming them to be a bed and breakfast. The buildings and houses weren’t dilapidated; they were charming and he felt as if he’d time-traveled into a different era. Wes almost expected to see women in old-style dresses with parasols and men with mutton chops.

But there were horse-drawn carriages and a couple of trolleys passing by, which gave the town an old-world feel. The set of brown horses neighed and flicked their tails. A couple sat in the back, the woman’s head resting on the man’s shoulder. People walked on the sidewalks with towels in hand, heading to the beach. A young boy, who looked like he was ten or so walked a black Labrador puppy.

When the light turned green, Wes started driving and passed the small grocery store on his left. He turned right at Main Street. Here was the main shopping plaza—an outdoor street market—which was the center of the town. A small gazebo was opposite and bright-colored flowers bloomed on the small expanse of green. A banner advertising yesterday’s Memorial Day parade was being pulled down from two workers in khaki uniforms.

He made a left and bypassed grander homes and hotels. The boardwalk lined the beach. At the northern end was the lighthouse, and the southern side had rides and games. He stopped his car to let people cross to the beach. On the opposite side, but further down the street, he spotted a baby-pink building with white lace trimming. The architecture interested him enough that he made a slight detour and turned his car to get a closer look.

On a placard, Just Desserts was written in cursive white font. Underneath that was the date the building was constructed: 1852. So it had only been built four years after Cape Hope had been established in 1848. Cape Hope had been a place where the extremely rich and wealthy had vacationed; now it catered to the middle and upper classes.

He continued on his way until he came to Boardwalk Avenue. There he made another right and drove down the long, winding road until he came to the end where a huge, mint-green gingerbread house stood. He pulled into the driveway and took out his luggage, then locked his car out of habit.

Before he even made his way up the steps, an elderly lady next door stepped out onto her porch. Although he hadn’t been in Cape Hope in ten years, he immediately recognized her. The neighbor, Lois Jacobs. Or, as he and his brothers had called her behind her back, the witch.

“Why, Wes Dalton!” She scurried down the steps, surprisingly spry for her age, which had to be in the late sixties. “Your father told me you were coming home, but I didn’t quite believe it!”

“Mrs. Jacobs, you look nice.” She actually did with her snow-white hair and soft blue eyes, her skin fairly smooth. Perhaps she had made a deal with the devil after all.

“And you are just as handsome as ever,” she said, reaching over the fence and patting his arm. Her hand lingered. “Oh, my! Aren’t we brawny?”

“Think I could have my own paper towel line?”

Lois turned around as a young woman appeared on the porch and waved her over. “Vicki! Come over here. There’s someone you
have
to meet.”

“Vicki, as in your daughter?” He faintly remembered the girl who had been guy crazy and the one who’d dogged his every heel for two weeks when he’d visited at sixteen.

“You remember her, do you?” Lois smiled. “Such a smart girl. And single since divorcing that pest of a husband. She finally got rid of him.”

“I always knew Orkin worked wonders.”

Lois didn’t hear him, intent on her daughter, who’d just joined them. Vicki was of average height and thin, her chestnut hair a pixie cut, her blue eyes wide and round like an owl’s.

“Vicki, this is Wes. You know him. He used to visit every now and then.”

Vicki’s cheeks colored. “I remember him.”

“Vicki is
single
, Wes,” Lois said.

“Yes. You already told me that.”

“Are you? Because if you aren’t”—Lois gave him a pointed look—“you and Vicki could go out together and catch up.”

“Mom, that’s really not necessary,” Vicki said quietly.

Lois narrowed her eyes at her daughter before focusing her attention on him. “So . . .”

He shifted on his feet. This was not what he wanted for the next three months—to have to deal with people trying to set him up. He was only here for his father and his family. He had put his work on the backburner. It wasn’t like he wanted a serious relationship, not with how badly things had ended between him and his ex-girlfriend, Megan.

“I’m really sorry.” He looked at both Lois and Vicki. “I just have so many things, and I really can’t because—”

“Wes?” His brother’s voice boomed across the yard.

Wes turned to see Jake and his father standing on the porch. Jake was a year younger than Wes. When Jake stood next to their dad, he could have been a mirror copy. They both had the same build: tall and athletic. However, Dad had lost a lot of weight; his clothes hung loose on his frame. Dad had always seemed bigger than life to Wes when he’d visited as a kid. A hard man to please, Dad never tolerated any bullshit or weaknesses. It was disconcerting to see Dad so changed . . . so not himself.

“Who’s Wes?” Dad asked, his face furrowing in confusion.

Wes winced. It felt like a knife had stabbed his heart.

Lois glanced at him with sympathy, then turned to the porch. “Hello, Nick! You remember Wes. He’s your boy with Tina.”

“Oh. Yes. I remember.” His dad’s voice didn’t sound that confident.

Jake just gave Wes a look that said,
you should have come sooner
.

Guilt heaped on him. All his excuses this past year—all valid, of course, since D&A hadn’t pulled in the numbers it had previous years due to the sagging economy. Wes had hardly slept, working from early morning to late night to make sure D&A stayed afloat. Except what if Dad never remembered him? What if he was too late to make amends?

He needed to stop thinking in “what ifs.” He was successful for a reason. And he’d have a victory in this. He’d help out. Maybe even hire a nurse or two, and make sure everything was okay before he returned to his life in Las Vegas.

Jake tilted his head, studying him. “You want to stand there all day?”

Wes turned to Lois and her daughter. “I’ll see you around.”

“Oh, you can count on that,” Lois promised.

That sounded more like a threat.

He took his suitcases and entered the house. Distant memories of his childhood rose in him like wisps of smoke. He’d slid down that banister, and in the main living room, he and his brothers had been introduced to the holiness of
The Godfather
and James Bond films. Pictures of his brothers in various stages of growing up hung on the walls. There weren’t any of him. It hurt, to see that there weren’t any younger photos of him alongside his brothers. That showed him how unimportant he was to Dad.

“How was the drive?” Jake asked.

Wes shrugged. “Probably should have left earlier.”

“Seth and TJ will be by later for dinner tonight.” Jake walked to the kitchen and poured Dad some orange juice. “Dad, you stay here. I need to talk to Wes.”

Dad nodded his head. “Don’t be mean, Jake.”

“I’m never mean,” Jake said. “I’m honest.”

Wes just waited. He knew when to bide his time and when to push people. He’d let Jake run the show for now.

Jake led him to the back patio. From here, the ocean was less than five minutes away. The view of the waves crashing upon the shore was beautiful. Gulls flew overhead, and a blue jay had landed on a branch of the birch tree in the yard. The sweet smell of the purple hydrangeas rose up to his nostrils.

Jake’s hands curled around the rail. “Before they arrive, I think we need to talk about a few things. Without them around.”

“Go ahead.”

“I didn’t think you were actually going to show up.”

He wanted to roll his eyes, but he wasn’t a teenager. “I said I was going to.”

“You always say you’ll try to come out. You told me that exact same thing last Christmas.” Jake kept his gaze on the ocean. “But you never do. You always have something that comes up. Something more important.”

“My business is important, Jake.”

“Dad’s not?”

“You know that’s not true.” Wes kept his voice calm. He knew his brothers had to deal with taking care Dad, and that it had to be extremely stressful. He stepped to Jake’s left and held his hands up. “Jake, I’m here to help out.”

Jake’s head turned at that. “You’re going to stick around the whole time?”

“Yes. I might have to leave for a couple of days to take care of things.”

“Of course you have to do that.”

Wes heard the judgment in his brother’s voice and was insulted. “Hey, I’ll follow through. I made a commitment.”

“You don’t know the first thing about commitment.”

“Listen, I’m already up to my neck in stuff that I’ve put on hold to take care of this—”


This
?” Jake’s gray eyes narrowed. There were heavy dark circles under there, and there were a few strands of silver in Jake’s hair. All of it had to be from stress. “Dad is really sick.”

BOOK: Four Weddings and a Break Up
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