La Vie en Rose {Life in Pink} (17 page)

“Just do it.”

She rode him hard and fast, her nails digging into his shoulders through his shirt as she panted out his name. It had been six weeks since they’d started sneaking around and their flame had yet to flicker. She was as insatiable and adventurous as he was when it came to bedsport and he’d never been happier.

“Yes, yes, yes, yes,
yes!”
Her mouth latched onto his neck as her body contracted around him. Her orgasm milked his release as he pumped into her a few last times, trembling the way only she could make him tremble. Fuck. She was amazing.

He lowered her feet to the ground and caught his breath. “You okay?”

Gazing at him with half lidded eyes, she grinned. “Never better.” She brushed the wrinkles from her dress and fluffed her hair. “Where are my panties?”

“In my pocket. I want them.” When he was with her he was a pervert like that—but only with her.

“Let me see them.”

Disappointed, he handed them over. She bunched up the fabric and used it to clean herself up. “Here you go.” He grinned as she handed them back. She
so
got him.

Facing forward as if nothing happened, they hit the go button and the elevator jolted. They were so perfectly in sync they glanced at each other and snickered.

On key, once they were a few blocks away from the loft, she laced her fingers with his. He was never one to hold hands, but with Emma, he liked touching her any way he could.

“You know, one stiff breeze and everyone will see your bare bajingo.”

She chuckled, chin high, seemingly unfazed by the possibility. Her confidence, this new level of coolness he’d never expected, filled him with an urge to take her all over again.

When they reached the store he was on an endorphin high. While she behaved like a respectable adult, he acted like a toddler. “Can we get some licorice?”

She rolled her eyes. “Put it in the cart.”

As she selected limes he perused the options and paused, his mouth stretching into a juvenile smirk. “
What
is this?” He picked up the funny shaped orange.

Tying off her bag of limes she frowned. “Isn’t it an orange?”

“Nope!” He laughed, reading the sign. “It’s a kumquat.” Why this was so hysterical to him he hadn’t a clue.

“Did you want some?”

“Some kumquats? Who doesn’t? Kumquats. Ha. That’s the best fruit name I’ve ever heard.”

She laughed and handed him a produce bag. “Here.”

As they traveled the aisles, she never got annoyed with him, even when he couldn’t stop using kumquat in sentences. It was amazing. Sometimes he watched her and couldn’t figure out why anyone that sweet would want to waste time on him. She could have anyone. Grayson was a dick, but she could easily blend with those upper class yuppies and find herself a better blueblood to take her sailing.

Who was he, a bartender with an unfinished degree? He had no clue where he was going or what he was working toward. The farthest he thought into his future was ten days, max.

He didn’t have a five-year plan or one for however many years people were planning these days. The fact that he was dating Emma could have been deemed the eighth natural wonder of the world. There was simply no rational explanation for such an improbable thing.

When she wasn’t looking he slipped a bottle of lube into the cart next to the obscenely large cucumber he’d snagged in the produce section. This was the shit he needed to stop doing. Emma was a grownup. Sure, she was two years younger than him, but she wouldn’t want to date some man child that got a kick out of oversize phallic produce and lube.

He reached in and she turned. “Do you like this cereal?”

Back stiff, hands innocently at his side, he nodded. He needed to get that crap out of the cart before she saw it. Panicking, he tried to distract her, but she kept piling food on top.

“Will you grab tissues? I think we’re out.”

Abandoning his search he nodded. “Sure. Tissues...” He grabbed three boxes and followed her to the last aisle.

“I think I’m going to make Mexican this week. You like tacos, right?”

“I like your taco.” Fuck. Why did he keep saying dumb shit like that?

She shook her head.

“Sorry.”

She frowned. “Sorry for what?”

“Calling your bajingo a taco.”

She laughed. “Like you haven’t called it a hundred other weird things. I’m used to it, Riley.”

He paused. “Really?”

“Yeah. Why else would I let you name my boobs Starsky and Hutch?”

“They do have streetwise mannerisms and sometimes perky moods.”

“Exactly. I get it.”

Feeling relieved, he asked, “It doesn’t get on your nerves?”

“What?”

“My...immaturity?”

“If you’re immature, so am I. Look, stop freaking out about whatever you’re stressing over. We’re fine. You’re happy. I’m happy. You’ve got my underwear in your pocket. I’m shopping for tortillas commando. Sounds like a recipe for bliss if I’ve ever heard one.”

Coolest. Chick. Ever. Maybe she was right. Maybe he was freaking out over nothing.

They waited in line at the register and he fidgeted the moment the guy behind them started unloading his cart. Grocery stores made him claustrophobic. He continued to help her unpack their items on the belt while mentally telling the guy crowding his six to back off.

When she discovered the enormous cucumber she held it up and arched a brow. “Did you put this in here?”

“Uh...maybe.”

She shook her head and tossed it on the belt then reached in the cart again, this time holding up the lube. “And this?”

His neck prickled as the guy behind him scrutinized their order. “I’m a sophomoric man child,” he mumbled.

She glanced at the bottle and picked up the cucumber again. “We can try it, but I don’t wanna hear you crying when you can’t walk right the next day.”

And there it was...he loved her.

She winked, tossing both items on the belt, careless of their proximity and what the clerk might assume. She was priceless, taking a practical joke and turning it back on him. A champion of sarcasm and wit, a master in the sack as well as the elevator, and sexy as sin with her Jessica Rabbit curves and tiny, deformed Frodo toes. In a word, she was perfect.

Several things became incredibly clear as he acknowledged his love for Emma. One, he couldn’t let her go. Two, he needed to make sure he didn’t ruin this. Three, he had to play it cool so she didn’t freak out. And four, he wanted to hold her and smother her like a stage five clinger and do a million and one non-masculine things with her that definitely broke guy code.

The bottom line, this relationship was suddenly the most important thing in the world to him, but could run so much smoother without him there to jeopardize it with all his stupid tendencies. Tendencies she was slowly learning to tolerate. Could she really be immune to all his idiosyncrasies? Perhaps find them cute, or would it only be a matter of time before he screwed up the greatest relationship he’d ever had?

****

T
he moonlight slipped past the curtains and colored her skin a silver shade of blue. “How do you get your pillows to smell so good?”

She chuckled and curled into him. “I wash them.”

“I wash mine too.”

“I do it regularly.”

He breathed in the soft scent of her hair, loving the fact that he’d smell her on his skin well past morning. “Em?”

“Yeah?”

He kissed her ear. “Are you happy?”

“Of course I’m happy.”

“With me?”

She turned and faced him. “What’s going on, Riley?”

He didn’t like needing this much reassurance. “It’s been almost two months since you and Becket broke up.”

“So?”

The plan was for her to move out and marry the guy. How did she adjust from all that to this so smoothly? He was coming from the total opposite end of the spectrum and it was definitely surreal finding her in the middle. Yet she seemed to just accept what they’d created as if it were nothing out of the ordinary. But to Riley, it was extraordinary.

“You probably would’ve been apartment hunting by now.”

She scowled at him. “But I’m not.”

“Doesn’t that bother you?” She had to feel something in regard to how much her life wasn’t moving in the direction she’d planned.

“Well, apartments are really expensive and we would’ve needed a big one—for me, Becket, and all the other women, so no, I’m not bothered. I’m relieved.”

“Okay.” But was she relieved because she’d dodged a bullet or because she found something better? He wanted to be better than that preppy little shit.

She brushed a hand over his hair. “What’s bothering you, Riley?”

“I don’t know.”
I think I’m turning into a chick.
“I can’t seem to get a handle on my feelings.”

“What sort of feelings?” She sat up. “Are you freaking out? You promised to talk to me if you started having second thoughts about us. Oh my God, is that what this is? Are you having second thoughts?”

“No.” He sat up too. “I’m not...I’m not having second thoughts. I’m...” He didn’t know how to explain what was happening to him. “The other day I heard a Luther Vandross song and it made me emotional. I get home from work and I can’t wait to climb in your bed just to watch you sleep. I worry about shit I never cared about, like should I have a 401K, and do you prefer the suburbs to the city? Then I panic, because I don’t know the answer. Do you like one over the other? And what about children? Do you want children? Some women have a timeframe for that stuff, because their gynecological clock is ticking. Is yours? And if so, how many? Does it piss you off that I’m just a bartender? And what about the way I dress? You never rag on me for the way I dress—”

“Whoa. Whoa. Whoa. Riley, take a breath.”

He did, big and slow. “Sorry. It’s like everything started piling up on me at once.” When he looked at her she was smiling.

“First of all, it’s a
biological clock
and mine’s not making a peep. I’m twenty-four and not even thinking about kids yet. Second of all, why would I care that you’re a bartender? I spend my day picking up people’s dry cleaning, making coffee, and getting lunch orders together. Third, I like the way you dress. Fourth, maybe we should both look into 401K’s. I’m not really sure what they are. And lastly, I absolutely love the fact that you watch me when I sleep.”

“Really? That’s not creepy stalker boyfriend territory?”

She shrugged. “It might be to others, but I think it’s sweet. If you were my ex and breaking into my place, then yeah, that would be creepy, but you’re invited. I think it’s romantic.”

He grinned. “Sometimes you snore and get this little bit of drool—”

“Ruining it.”

“Sorry.”

She leaned forward and kissed him. “Why is all this suddenly bothering you?”

“I just...” Honesty? He took a deep breath. “I don’t want you to be embarrassed by me.”

Her brow crinkled. “Embarrassed by you? Why would I be?”

“Well, we’ve been seeing each other for almost two months and the holidays are right around the corner. What are we going to do for Christmas? I don’t want to do separate things and pretend we’re just friends. I want to share the holidays with you as my
girlfriend
. I don’t know why we’re still hiding our relationship, unless it’s because you’re ashamed of me or maybe it’s just a fling thing to you. I want to introduce you to my friends, but I don’t know if you want to meet them.”

“I’d love to meet your friends, Riley. You should have said something.”

“You would?”

“Yes. And this is
not
just a fling thing for me. I just didn’t want Rarity knowing about us because we were new and I wasn’t sure if you were using me, or what, and I didn’t want her cramming reality down my throat. If we were making a mistake I wanted the freedom to make it.”

Her words were reassuring until she said that last part. “Using you? Are you serious?” Insulted, he waited for her to explain.

“You know what I mean.”

“No, I don’t. Emma, I would never take advantage of you.”

Flustered, she waved out her hand. “How was I supposed to know that?”

“Because you know
me
and the kind of person I am.”

“Don’t get mad, Riley. I’d just gotten over a five-year relationship that ended with me engaged to someone who regularly slept with another woman. I’m
still
working out some trust issues. I know nothing lasts forever, but I wanted you, even if it was for a blink of forever. Your sister never would’ve understood that, because it was the first time in my life I wanted something enough to not care about the risks.”

She sighed and cupped his face. “Hey. It doesn’t matter to me what anyone else thinks. As long as you get me and I get you, that’s all we need.”

He nodded, but needed her to really get him in that moment. “Some things last forever, Em.”

She shook her head. “Nothing lasts forever, Riley.”

Sadness for what Becket had done to her took hold of him. She should believe love could be unconditional and last forever, even if it was a crock of shit or not in their destiny, it was definitely something she should believe was possible. The truth was
she
made
him
believe in such things. She had her whole life ahead of her to become jaded.

“If nothing lasts forever, then I’m glad I was your risk. But I’d rather be your nothing and last forever.”  Kissing her he toppled her to the pillows. “Can I be your nothing?”

Her lips curved under his. “You’re not nothing, Riley. You’re everything.”

“You’re everything too.” His body stretched alongside of hers as he nibbled her shoulder.

She sighed and looked into his eyes with such intimacy. “I don’t care if we tell Rarity about us now.”

He sat back on his heels. “Really?” Immeasurable relief derailed his progress to her panties.

She laughed. “Yeah. I trust what we have.”

He jumped out of bed and grabbed his pants off the floor.

“Where are you going?”

“To tell Rarity about us.”

Her eyes widened. “It’s four in the morning!”

No time like the present. “It’ll only take a minute.” He didn’t want her to change her mind. The secrecy was making him insane. Marching down the hall, he knocked on Rarity’s door.