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In This Life by Cora Brent (11)

 

It was Tuesday morning when I ran into Jane Ryan wearing a bohemian dress in peacock colors and frowning over a pile of heirloom tomatoes at Windom Grocery on Garner Avenue.

“Kat!” Jane’s grimace vanished and she appeared delighted to see me. She had the classic Ryan family thick black hair and deep blue eyes, like her brother and her nephew. But where Chris’s hair had started to show streaks of gray hers was still lustrous and uniform.

“Hi Jane.” I hugged her.

When I was a kid Jane babysat for me a few times when my mother began dating her soon-to-be third husband (later to become her third ex-husband). Jane’s babysitting career ended the day we found a lost puppy at the park. Jane wrapped the struggling creature in her jacket in a misguided rescue effort. When we returned to my front yard the angry ball of fur leapt out of her jacket and fastened its teeth to my left arm. I screamed. Jane screamed louder. One of my neighbors heard the noise and jumped over a hedge to get to us. After he pulled the ‘puppy’ away it ran off and he asked why the hell we were playing around with a coyote. Jane hyperventilated and I needed to get a series of rabies shots. My mother was not amused.

“Nash told me what happened,” she said and I dropped the two boxes of cereal I was holding.

I bent down to scoop them up and regain some composure because I was sure my face was as flaming red as that tomato in Jane’s hand. I hadn’t thought of Nash as a hapless blabbermouth who would gossip to his aunt about his sexual escapades but I’d been wrong about people before.

“I’m so glad Colin’s okay,” Jane continued. “Kevin and I were over at the house last night. Thank you for everything you did for him. And for Nash. I know my nephew’s not always the easiest man to get along with. I’m so grateful you were there.”

I breathed easier. Nash had just told her about the midnight trip to urgent care. Not the after party.

“I was happy to come,” I said, nearly gagging over my words because they were true in more ways than one.

Jane studied me. “You look beautiful today.”

I touched my hair. “That’s nice of you to say.”

“Radiant.” Jane nodded.

“What?”

“You’re radiant. There’s this aura of gratified serenity surrounding you.”

“New skin product,” I said, hoping that would put an end to this particular conversational thread. It didn’t.

“No.” Jane frowned at me the same way she’d frowned at the inadequate tomatoes. “That’s not it. This is a glow that comes from within.”

I was bad at keeping a poker face. Jane was still scrutinizing me as if my forehead was tattooed with letters she could read.

And they’d say: I fucked Nash Ryan. And I liked it.

“The store is reopening this week,” I said as if that explained everything.

Jane blinked. “What store?”

Honestly, I loved Jane but sometimes the woman was daft. “Chris’s store. Hawk Valley Gifts.”

Instantly I wished I hadn’t brought up the name of her dead brother. Jane’s expression changed. “Right,” she said softly. “It was once my dad’s store. He used to keep a jar of penny candy sticks on the counter.”

I hugged the boxes of Emma’s favorite cereal to my chest. “The reopening is Friday morning,” I said. “I’m sure Nash would love it if you’d stop by.”

Jane cheered up. “Will you be there?”

“Yes. For a little while anyway. I’ve been helping Nash get all the details sorted out. He’s going to reach out to some of the local artists who have work for sale to see if they have anything new. Have you been painting?”

“Not really.” Jane’s gaze wandered out the glass door. “I used to always look at the mountains for inspiration. I can’t do that anymore.”

I looked where Jane was looking. The Hawk Mountain range had always been a permanent friendly backdrop to anyone who lived here. I guess I wasn’t alone in suppressing a shudder every time I gazed at them now.

I couldn’t stick around and talk to Jane for very long. I’d only stopped in here to pick up Emma’s cereal before my scheduled meeting with Nash. Garner Avenue was a long, narrow strip that ran through the center of town. Hawk Valley Gifts occupied a space way at the other end but I chose to walk, inhaling the honeyed promise of early summer.

There was a new sign on the shop door, right above the one that said ‘CLOSED’. The bold typed letters read, “Hawk Valley Gifts will be reopening Friday, June 8. Thank you for your support.” Nash must have put it there.

He leaned against the checkout counter, elbows resting on the polished wood in a way that suggested he’d been waiting for a few minutes. I wasn’t late. Nash was just trying to prove he was on top of things.

“Where’s Colin?” I asked as some basic part of me performed an involuntary somersault. I’d spoken to Nash a couple of times since we parted on the great Morning After but this was the first time we’d been in the same room together since I walked out of his kitchen two days ago feeling fabulous and faintly sore. If I appeared as radiant as Jane insisted then I had Nash to thank although I’d rather lick the Garner Avenue asphale than admit it to him.

“Nancy’s watching him,” Nash said. His eyes skimmed over me with slow precision. His blue polo shirt was a step above his usual attire and his black hair was carefully combed instead of tousled and wild. I could smell his aftershave from here, a scent of spicy masculinity that had been designed to make ovaries quiver.

“Is that breakfast?” he asked, pointing to the boxes I was accidentally crushing.

“No.” I set them down on a nearby half empty shelf. “Emma’s a challenge when it comes to food. Sometimes this is the only thing she’ll agree to eat and I ran out this morning. Wait a minute.” I thought of something. “How’d you get in? I forgot to give you the key.”

He shrugged. “I found another one.”

“Where?”

“My father’s safe.”

“How’d you get into the safe?”

“He left the combination with Steve Brown as part of his will instructions.”

“You saw Steve Brown again?”

“How many questions are you going to ask me this morning, Kat?”

“I don’t know. How many are you willing to answer?”

Nash moved away from the counter and took a step in my direction. He was looking at me again. He was looking at me in a way that made me forget things like decency and common sense and the fact that I was a single mom who shouldn’t take chances. The truth was I was ready to rub one out on his hand if he extended it.

“You look beautiful today,” he said in the husky tone that told me more than his words did.

I smoothed down my knee-length swing skirt. “I’ve had this outfit for years.”

“It’s nice.”

“Nash.” I swallowed. “I thought we agreed this wouldn’t happen again.”

“You don’t like compliments, Kat?”

He was three feet away, surveying me with intense interest. He knew what was on my mind. He knew I wanted him and he was going to make me admit it.

“I like them,” I whispered.

Nash was pleased. “What else do you like?”

“I think you’ve figured out one or two things.”

He agreed. “Or more.”

My mouth twitched. “You know, I came here for a meeting.”

“What a coincidence. So did I.”

I took a calming breath. I had to remember my reasons for concluding I shouldn’t have screwed Nash Ryan. “I guess we need to lay some ground rules.”

Reason 1: I don’t have the time or inclination to be involved with anyone right now.

“I guess we do,” Nash said.

“We didn’t really talk about it the other morning.”

Nash crept even closer. His preppy polo shirt was at odds with the ink running riot all over his strong arms, which he crossed over his broad chest as he observed me. “Let’s talk about it now.”

Reason 2: We’re friends. I think.

I forced my face to look serious. “Okay, Nash. You like honesty so I’ll give it to you. I’d do anything for Colin and I really do care about you too. But right now I don’t have room in my life for a relationship.”

He grinned. “I didn’t ask you for one, Kat.”

Reason 3: This could end badly and impact Colin. And Emma. And me.

“Fair enough,” I sighed. “I really value your friendship and the other night was incredible. But my priority is Emma.”

“And my priority is Colin.”

“So we’re on the same page.”

He closed in. “Yes we are.”

“Then there’s nothing else to say.”

Nash was inches away. He touched the top button on my blouse, pushed his fingertip into the buttonhole crease. “No, there’s nothing else to say.”

My breathing hitched. He had to have heard it. “What are we going to do, Nash?”

He captured the button, twisting until it popped off. “Whatever you want, Kat.”

Reason 4: None of the above reasons mean shit.

“You know what I want,” I admitted and flattened my hand against his chest, reveling in the hard feel of the muscles beneath the fabric. “No hassles, no complications.”

He unfastened another button from my blouse, this time without tearing it off. “I can give that to you. I’m not a fan of hassles or complications.”

My hand traveled lower, settling on his belt. “This is just about two people who know how to make each other feel good. I think we both need that right now.”

Nash moved my hand down so I could feel how hard he was. “I think you’re right,” he whispered.

“There’s nothing wrong with it.”

“Nothing at all.”

I kept my hand where it was while he made short work of the rest of my buttons. Then I paused and shrugged out of the blouse. Nash checked me out and gave a low whistle.

“Have I mentioned yet that you’re totally fucking gorgeous?” Then he smiled in the manner that threatened to melt my heart if I had any intention of allowing my heart to be melted.

I tugged on his belt, relishing the way he looked at me, enjoying how bold I suddenly felt.

“I want to see you too,” I said. Then I gasped and turned around. “Wait, is the door unlocked?”

He had his hands on me, unhooking my bra and nudging me in the direction of the counter until I bumped into it.

“Probably,” he growled and now he was at my back, pushing my skirt up and my panties down. My breasts spilled from my open bra and briefly found their way into Nash’s hands before they were flattened against the counter when he bent me over. My legs were jelly, threatening to collapse underneath me as Nash pulled his pants down and teased my ass with his cock. This was ridiculous, downright perverted. I was about to get nailed across the counter at a goddamn souvenir shop in broad daylight and I couldn’t think of anything that would feel more fucking fantastic.

I bucked against him and he said, “Fuck,” and pushed my hair aside, sucking at my neck while his hands worked to roll a condom on. Meanwhile I throbbed so hard a faint breeze across my clit would probably send me into oblivion. I needed to come so badly I was about to reach down and deal with the problem myself.

But that wasn’t necessary. Nash nudged my legs father apart, found the right angle and drove himself in deep. He was instinctive the way he knew when to slow down and when to pound without apology. He was teaching me that not all orgasms were created equal. The powerful spasms I experienced with him had little in common with the sweet waves of pleasure I’d known before. No wonder why I had no willpower where Nash was concerned.

The pace of his thrusts became faster, frenetic, our bodies pulsing together in sin and sweat. I felt him come with a groan and a shudder and a smile of victory spread across my face. It was still there when we separated and started gathering our clothes.

“You look amused,” he remarked, sliding his boxers on first.

I hooked my bra. “I like having the power to send the great Nash Ryan over the edge.”

He eyed me. “I didn’t know I was great.”

“My vagina thinks so.”

He laughed. “You crack me up, Kat.”

“Why?”

Nash pulled his shirt over his head. “You’re all things at once. Prim and dirty and careful and careless.”

That summed me up better than he knew. “Just trying to keep you guessing, Nash.”

“I’m not complaining. It’s a hot combination.”

I pulled on my skirt and watched him zip his fly. He caught me looking and his expression changed. “You sure all this is okay with you? Seriously, I appreciate everything you’ve done. I like you and I’d hate to think I’m messing you up in any way.”

I picked up my blouse. The top button was gone, plucked away by Nash’s fingers and tossed somewhere unseen. But I buttoned the rest and tucked the shirt into my skirt.

“I’m pretty sure the only thing that’s been messed up so far is my hair.” I made a show of smoothing my unruly curls into place.

Nash finished getting his clothes in order and leaned against the counter in exactly the same position he’d been in when I got here. “You still want to have this meeting?”

“Of course.” I picked up the bag that doubled as a purse and laptop carrier and opened the computer on the counter beside him. “Let’s take a look at the inventory reports and go from there.”