The Idea of You (26 page)

Oddly enough, he ran into Sean in the kitchen. “Hey, what brings you here?” Evan asked, though he quickly guessed as he took in Sean's brightly colored cycling outfit.

Sean finished filling his water bottle from the front of the fridge. “Just getting a refill before I head home. Rob and I took an evening ride around the property.”

Dad was an avid cyclist, and he was thrilled that his son-in-law's passion for cycling nearly matched his own.

“I'm glad I ran into you like this—just us guys,” Sean said, turning from the fridge. “Tori said you might want to come to LA with me. To see Alaina.”

Evan wanted to be irritated with Tori for telling Sean, but he knew she was just trying to be helpful. He couldn't fault her for that. “I was thinking about it.”

Sean rested his hand on the island. “I know we don't know each other all that well, but I'm here if you want to talk. Especially about Alaina, since I know her so well. I'd like to be here for you—I know how close you are to my wife.”

His wife. Sometimes it was hard to think of Tori as married when she'd only ever been Evan's sister, his protector. “Thanks. I appreciate that. I'm not a great talker.”

Sean chuckled. “I know, but we guys often aren't. I'm a special case, since I'm English.”

Evan arched a brow at him. “More chatty?”

“My mother's influence, I'm afraid.” He took a hit off his water bottle. “I'm leaving Sunday afternoon, if you want to come. Heading back Monday afternoon. It's a short trip, so if things don't go well, you can get the hell out of there. Or if they do, you can always stay.”

The thought of flying filled Evan with dread. “Think I can get a first-class seat?”

“Probably. That's what Tori booked for me the other day. She insisted.” He glanced down before inching toward Evan. “Listen, I don't want to butt my nose in where it doesn't belong, but I hope things work out with you and Alaina. I've seen her date other guys, and she's never been this comfortable, for lack of a better word. She's usually on her guard. She keeps herself and her feelings close to the vest, if you know what I mean.”

Evan knew exactly what he meant. It's how he typically operated, too. “I'm different?”

Sean nodded. “Seems like it to me. If there's any chance you have feelings for her, I'd tell you to go after them. You might not find that again.”

Evan hadn't expected to find it ever. He still didn't know if this was love, but he didn't doubt that his chances of finding whatever it was again were pretty slim.

He thought of Alaina's offer to stay with her. Suddenly the idea of sleeping with her seemed possible. At least, he wanted to try. If he didn't, he'd never know if he could. Evan was a lot of things, but scared wasn't one of them. He was logical, and logically he didn't want to miss an opportunity he might regret.

Worst-case scenario he could evacuate to another room. His mind began to churn with possibility, with plans that involved tomorrow—or actually several days from now. A future that wasn't what he anticipated. And that didn't fill him with fear—it filled him with excitement.

“Would you ask Tori to book me the seat next to you?”

Sean grinned before clapping him on the shoulder. “You got it. And hey, if it ends up being a boys' getaway, so be it. I've got your back—Alaina's my friend, but we're family.”

Evan began to wonder if Alaina
might
be family, too, at least to him.

T
HE DOORBELL RANG
, startling Alaina from her pacing. Evan had buzzed the intercom at the gate, and Alaina had spent the last several minutes waiting for him to come up the drive and park.

She looked up at the video screen by the door out of habit and smiled at the image of Evan in his black leather jacket holding flowers. Her heart tripped over itself.

She opened the door. “Hi. You didn't have trouble finding the house, did you?”

He stepped inside. “No, but the crowd of paparazzi outside your gate made it easy.”

Her reaction to his presence was almost visceral. The scent of his cologne, the baritone of his voice, the sight of his chiseled cheekbones and strong, sensual mouth set her pulse to thundering. “There's a crowd?” she asked, a bit surprised she could still find her voice.

“Like four or five. I guess that's not really a crowd.” He shrugged, and she realized just how much she'd missed him. “To me, one is too many.”

She wanted to hug him, to touch him at least, but didn't want to overwhelm him. “Me, too.”

He handed her the flowers. “I brought these for you.”

She took them and sniffed the rose-like fragrance. “You remembered I love peonies.” Her heart skipped again. “They're gorgeous. Let me put them in water.” She turned and headed toward the kitchen. When she didn't hear him following, she looked back over her shoulder. “Aren't you coming?”

“Sure.” He seemed hesitant but came forward.

In the kitchen she looked under the sink for a vase. She thought there might be one or two down there but honestly didn't know for sure. Thankfully she was right. She pulled one out and filled it with water. “Thank you for the flowers. That was really thoughtful of you. How's everything going with The Alex?”

“Good. The mural at the hotel is coming along nicely. I helped Chloe paint some of it yesterday.”

She hadn't realized he could paint, too, but wasn't surprised. He was incredibly artistic. “Really? I can't wait to see it.”

“Does that mean you'll come back to Ribbon Ridge?”

“I'd like to. I really loved it there.”

He nodded. “I'm glad to hear that. I wasn't sure. You seemed pretty upset, and then you were gone.”

“I
was
upset. You said some things that made this—us—seem impossible. You pretty much said you couldn't see a future with me.” And then there was the whole kid thing . . . But she didn't say that. One thing at a time. If he couldn't handle her, there was no point discussing anyone else.

He came forward and pressed his palms against the marble counter. “I couldn't, but I don't want to regret not trying. You aren't at all what I expected in my life, but that doesn't mean you aren't want what I want or need.”

Her adrenaline spiked. “And what do you want?”

He came around the counter and stood in front of her. His eye contact was still sketchy, but she knew it didn't mean anything when it came to sincerity from him. “I want you. I . . . need you.”

His words burrowed into her heart like a cat hunkering down in a soft blanket for a nap. But she wanted to be absolutely clear about what they were doing. “Tell me what this means. I'm not sure how to do this. I live here. You live in Ribbon Ridge.”

“I was sort of hoping we could make that work. I'm used to being alone—I like it, in fact—so when you need to be here or on location, I'll be in Ribbon Ridge. When you're not working, you can come be with me.”

She could see that happening but wasn't sure how much she'd like being away from him. She'd missed him in the last week. “How will that look? We'll sleep in separate rooms at our house or wherever, or maybe separate beds, like on an old sitcom.”

His brow wrinkled. “Is that what they did?” Understanding lit his eyes. “I think I remember that on
I Love Lucy
reruns.” His mouth curved up at the corner. “Actually, I thought we might try sharing a bed.”

“For the whole night?”

He looked her straight in the eye, summoning butterflies to her stomach. “For the whole night. I'm ready tonight. I brought a bag.” His eye contact faltered. “It's in the car. I left it there in case you said no.”

She laid her palms on his chest. “No way would I say no.” She stood on her toes and kissed him. Maybe, just maybe, they could make this work.

E
VAN OPENED HIS
eyes abruptly. The bed felt different. Because it wasn't his. He took a deep breath and rolled to his back. Alaina had a king-sized bed, which is what he had at home. He typically liked to sprawl and assumed he'd bump into her all night long. Except he'd slept like the dead.

Which wasn't hard to believe, given how long they'd had sex; they'd been making up for lost time, apparently.

He picked up his phone on the nightstand and looked at the time. Not yet eight. He turned his head and looked for Alaina. She was over on the opposite edge of the bed, her back to him. Had he driven her over there with his movements? This is why he didn't like sleeping with people—as much for their comfort as his.

He scooted closer to her, then planted his elbow in the mattress to rest his chin on his hand so he could look down at her profile in sleep. She was so pretty. Her long lashes curved against her buttermilk skin, and her dark honey-gold hair tangled against the arch of her neck. Her mouth was closed, her lips plump and pink, ready to be kissed.

He liked this. Waking up next to her. It seemed the experiment had worked. Not only could he sleep with someone, he'd
liked
it. No, not just someone—Alaina.

He moved closer and spooned her from behind. She sighed softly and nuzzled backward against him, her ass perfectly hitting his half-stiff cock and driving it immediately to full arousal.

He ought to let her sleep. He knew she had an important meeting later this morning, but he couldn't resist pressing a kiss to her bare shoulder. She wore a tank top and loose-fitting pajama bottoms. He had on boxers, but he was doing his best to bust out of them at present. Maybe he should take a cold shower . . .

Her touch on his thigh startled him, driving all thoughts of a shower from his brain. She massaged him through his shorts, then found his cock. She tucked her hand inside of the half-open flap and found the base. Curling her fingers around his shaft, she stroked him. Up. Down. Back. Forth. He closed his eyes and let ecstasy take over.

“Get a condom,” she said, her voice deep and throaty with sleep or lust or both.

He rolled away from her and grabbed a condom from the nightstand. He shucked his shorts and slipped the latex over his cock. When he returned to her and saw she hadn't moved, he worried he might've dreamed her response. But that was absurd.

Then she pushed her ass—which was now nude—back toward him, and he knew it was real. He slid his hand between her thighs and found her soft, wet heat. She was more than ready, and so was he. He lifted her leg and positioned himself at her opening, then thrust into her. Her muscles stretched and gripped him tightly as he moved. He closed his eyes in sheer bliss.

She bent her upper leg, and he pushed his knee up over her bottom leg. She rocked with him, thrusting her hips back and forth in gentle waves. He reached around her and found her breast, tweaking her nipple through the ribbed cotton of her tank. But it wasn't enough, so he pushed the fabric up, baring her flesh. He cupped her breast, squeezing its soft fullness and relishing her answering moan.

She pushed back. He thrust forward. He felt her orgasm start with the clenching of her muscles around him and heard it from the sounds emanating from her throat. She reached behind her and clutched his thigh, digging her fingers into his flesh.

He drove into her faster, and her cries increased. When she next pressed back against him, reality splintered away from him as he came. Light and sound ceased to exist. He didn't know where he ended and she began, and he didn't care.

As he came back to earth, he was most aware of an incredible sensation of lightness, of utter happiness. He didn't know if it was love, but he hoped it was. Yes, he hoped love felt just like this.

She rolled to her back, her shoulder butting up against his chest as they caught their breath. “I could wake up like this every day. How did you sleep?”

“Great. Surprisingly.” He loved the way her face brightened when she smiled in response. He felt like the most important person in the world when she looked at him like that.

She touched his cheek. “I'm so glad.”

“Did I drive you over to the edge of the bed? I can be a bed hog.”

She laughed softly. “I wouldn't know if you were. I'm an edge sleeper. I think it's because I was always ready to jump out of bed at a moment's notice when I was younger. Our trailer caught on fire while I was sleeping when I was six, and I'm not sure I slept very soundly after that.”

“What happened?”

She looked at him curiously. “Most people freak out when I mention that, but you barely batted an eye. Actually, no eyes were batted at all.”

He winced. “Is that bad? I don't always react the right way, sorry. But why would I freak out? You're obviously fine.” He looked at the far wall. “God, I'm so bad at this.”

She leaned up and kissed him. “You are not. I was just making an observation, not a criticism. It was a fire in the kitchen, and our neighbor, who was far less inebriated than my mother at the time, responded quickly with a fire extinguisher. It wasn't terribly traumatizing, but it was a valuable lesson in self-preservation when it came to living with my mother. She's not the most aware person.”

“Are you sure she's not on the spectrum?”

She laughed, and her eyes danced. “I don't know. She has a host of issues, but I hadn't thought of that.”

“Honestly, everyone has a trait or two that looks like autism, it's just the combination, intensity, and consistency that forces a diagnosis.”

“I see. I've wondered . . . How do you feel being different?”

“That's such a tough question to answer, especially to a neurotypical person.” He threw the covers back and scooted off the other side of the bed. “Let me clean up for a second before I try to tackle that.” He made his way toward the bathroom to dispose of the condom.

“Are you hungry?” she called after him. “I'm starved, and I'd love to take you to my favorite breakfast place.”

“Sure. I'll get dressed.”

Ten minutes later, they were both garbed in extremely casual clothes—him in athletic shorts and her in yoga pants. She wore an oversized sweatshirt, and her hair was scraped into a ponytail. She'd dabbed on a little bit of makeup and grabbed her purse from the top of the dresser. “Ready?”

He nodded, following her downstairs and through her elegantly appointed house to a four-car garage, which housed two cars—a sedan and an SUV. “Which one are we taking?”

She looked over her shoulder at him. “I was going to take the Jag, unless you'd rather take the Highlander?”

“It's a hybrid?” he asked.

She nodded. “I just got it a couple of months ago, and I love it.” She dug in her purse and tossed him the keys. “You drive.”

He opened her door, and she flashed him a smile. “I'll never get tired of that,” she said.

Good, because he'd never get tired of doing it for her, not when she lit up like that.

As he climbed in, she pushed a button to remotely open the garage. “Just drive out the gate and take a left.” She glanced up and down the street before he turned out.

“What are you looking for?”

“Just checking to see how many paparazzi are here. It's early, but they've been pretty hard-core the past few weeks.”

“Since that story about you broke?”

“Yeah. Oh, there's Ronnie.” She pointed toward a beat-up red Fiat. “He spends most of his time stalking me.”

Evan turned left onto the street and glanced at the rearview mirror. “What a jerk. Why doesn't he get a real job?”

Ronnie followed them, but Alaina wasn't concerned. “He's not so bad. He's pretty decent about what he sells to the tabloids.” She laughed. “He doesn't give them anything where I look bad.”

“You know who takes what pictures and what they sell?”

She nodded. “Pretty much. But I have no clue who got that shot of me leaving the clinic. I just know it wasn't Ronnie.”

She gave Evan directions to the diner, which was only ten minutes away. She was taking a bit of a chance going out in public with Evan, but Ronnie would keep a respectable distance and only tourists approached her for autographs.

She directed Evan to park in the tiny lot behind the diner. “It says ‘no parking,' but I get special treatment.”

He smiled faintly. “Of course you do.”

“We can go in the back and get a table away from the window. The owner of the place doesn't let paparazzi inside, so we won't be disturbed.”

She waited for him to open her door, then took his hand as they walked across the lot to the back door. She went inside and had to let go as they entered a narrow corridor. She paused at a doorway to a small kitchen. “Morning, Jose. I brought a friend along.”

A small Latino man came to the doorway. He grinned at her and nodded up at Evan. “Morning, Alaina. You want your regular?”

“Yes, please.” She turned to Evan. “Jose's huevos rancheros are to die for. Seriously. I'd pit him against Kyle any day.”

“Sounds good,” Evan said. “I'll have the same.”

“Who's Kyle?” Jose asked, wiping his hands on his apron.

“My brother. He's a chef.”

“And soon to be famous, as he's about to be splashed all over the Travel Channel,” Alaina said.

“Have a seat, and I'll send Isa out with some water and coffee.”