Chapter Nine
Everly ran her hand over Nathan’s hair and bent down to kiss his forehead. She’d already done the same to James, though she’d had to be careful thanks to his bandages. This was the first day they were home in their beds after the surgery, and it was their naptime. James needed more rest than usual as he healed, and Nathan had wanted to take a nap in solidarity. Her boys were breaking her heart, and she’d never loved them more than she did right then.
When her phone buzzed in her pocket, she frowned, wondering who it could be. She checked the screen, only to find it listed as Unknown. Normally, she’d let it go to voicemail, but since she was waiting on calls from her insurance company as well as the authorities, she answered quickly once she was out of earshot of the boys.
“Hello?”
No one answered.
“Hello?” she asked again.
There was a moment of silence before the call disconnected. She frowned.
That was weird. With a sigh, she put her phone back into her pocket and went back to what she was doing. She had a list as long as her arm to get through and no energy to do it.
Her back ached, and she hadn’t slept more than a couple of hours each night for the past few days, but sadly, she wouldn’t be allowed to join the boys in their nap. There just wasn’t time for that. Since she’d been in and out of the hospital with the kids, she’d gotten behind on household chores and other things on her to-do list. Not to mention the fact that James’s hearing tests and therapy were going to begin soon, and she needed to get the whole family prepared for that, as well. They were also taking ASL classes as a family because even if James’s surgery gave him the gift of hearing out of both ears, she wanted them all to be well rounded and have another skill to communicate with the world.
Of course, she also had to deal with paperwork and the fire marshal about her property since they still hadn’t let her inside to see the damage. That was a dark cloud hanging over her home, and she knew it might break her if she truly gave in to her worry.
She pressed her hand against her belly, her stomach roiling at the thought of everything she’d lost. She’d seen the outside of Beneath the Cover and knew there wouldn’t be much—if anything—to salvage. She’d spent years making that place another home for her, a refuge for those in need of books and new worlds, and now it was gone. She had no idea who could have burned her place to the ground, who hated her enough to do so. And if it weren’t for that note to Jackson she’d found in the mail, she might have thought it was just a random vandal. But now, she wasn’t so sure.
Someone knocked on the front door, and she winced, looking down at her sleeping babies and letting out a sigh of relief that they hadn’t woken up. She hurried to answer whoever it was so they wouldn’t ring the doorbell instead and truly wake everyone up.
She looked through the peephole, nervous energy coursing through her as she opened the door. “Storm,” she said softly. “I didn’t know you were stopping by.”
He had his hands in his pockets and a frown on his face. That wasn’t an entirely new look for him since he usually frowned around her—or didn’t show any emotion at all. Since Jackson’s death, the days when Storm smiled for her were rare. She let out a shaky breath, annoyed with herself for thinking about that right then.
She’d kissed the man in front of her, and now all she could do was think about her husband? Storm had been Jackson’s best friend, and yet she couldn’t stop picturing that kiss…and wondering what else Storm could do with that mouth of his.
And that was enough of that.
“Can I come in?” he asked, his voice that low growl that she always liked but never admitted to liking.
She moved back, and he took a few steps into her home so she could close the door behind him. “What’s wrong?” she asked. There had to be something wrong. For a brief moment, she wondered if it was about their kiss, but for some reason, she knew it had to be about something else. He wouldn’t look as tortured as he did right then if it was just about what had happened between them.
“I need to tell you something,” he said softly, his gaze boring into hers. “And you’re not going to like it.”
She blew out a breath. “Well, if I’m not going to like it, you might as well tell me since I’m doing laundry and I don’t like that either. Make it a two for one.”
Storm reached out for her but then, apparently, thought better of it and let his hand drop. She tried not to let that hurt. “I’ll help,” he said quietly.
“If that’s what you want to do.” She was stalling, and they both knew it. She had no idea what he was about to say, but she didn’t want to hear it. Yet she was an adult, so she’d listen even if she had to keep her hands busy since she was so nervous around him these days. “The boys are napping, so we’ll have to keep it quiet.”
He nodded as he fell into step beside her. “I figured they’d be tired after the long week they’ve had. That’s why I knocked instead of ringing the doorbell.”
Not everyone would have been that thoughtful and considerate, and that just showed her that there were far more layers to Storm than others saw on a daily basis. “Thanks.”
She set about pulling the wet clothes out of the washer, throwing some in the dryer and hanging most of her clothes to air dry. Storm helped in silence, tossing the boys’ clothes in the dryer since they were mostly cotton and could handle the heat. Her clothes tended to fall apart since, apparently, no one could make sturdy women’s clothes look cute these days. And now she was thinking about clothes and dryer settings rather than what Storm had to say. This was a whole new level of her burying her head in the sand.
“Tell me, Storm. Just get it out. It’s obviously bothering you.” She paused. “Is it about the kiss?” she blurted then immediately regretted it. “I mean, never mind. Forget I said anything.” She started the dryer and went to move more clothes to the washer, but Storm gripped her wrist lightly, halting her. She let him turn her around so she faced him, her back to the moving dryer and her front so close to his.
“It’s not about the kiss,” he said softly. “I don’t regret it.” He blew out a breath, and she pressed her lips together, not sure where he was going with the conversation. “I have something to tell you that might make you hate me, but you have to know.”
She frowned. “What on earth could make me hate you?”
He pulled back slightly and reached into his pocket, taking out a photo. She froze, somehow knowing that whatever was on that photo was something she didn’t want to see.
“I was visiting a friend,” he said. “Helping him move into his new place, and when I unpacked a box, I found this.” He handed her the photo upside down, and she refused to take it.
“What is it?” she asked, her voice hollow. There was something wrong, something she couldn’t quite name.
He flipped the photo over, and she glanced down, her world shattering. “Clay, the guy I know, is this woman’s nephew. Apparently, Jackson was with her for years.” His voice broke. “They have three kids, Ev. Three goddamn kids and I didn’t know.”
She swallowed hard, her eyes filling with tears, but instead of breaking, instead of sadness, she only felt rage. “Why are you showing this to me? It’s not him.” She refused to look at it again, pushing his hand away. “It’s just someone who looks like him or whatever. My husband wouldn’t have cheated on me. He loved me. He’s the father of my children, not hers. I don’t know what lies someone told you, but you don’t get to come in here and spread them to me. Jackson was mine.” Even as she said the words, doubt crawled into her mind. He’d always flirted with waitresses and other women around her, but he was so smooth about it, it always felt like kindness rather than flirting. And he’d gone on so many business trips, had died because of one…
But, no. That couldn’t be true. Her husband didn’t have another family.
“Ev…”
“No. Don’t talk. Don’t say anything else. Whatever this Clay told you was a lie. It has to be. Jackson wasn’t like that. He was a good man. A wonderful man. He’s dead, Storm. Nothing will bring him back, and tarnishing his memory like this only makes things worse.”
Hands shaking, Everly pushed at Storm’s chest, needing air. He staggered back, pain in his eyes. For a moment, she thought it was because of what he’d just said, but no, that was physical pain.
“What’s wrong?” she asked. “Did I hurt you?”
He gritted his teeth. “I’m fine.”
He didn’t sound fine. So she lifted up his shirt, putting her hands on the tense muscles of his side and back. There were faint scars under her fingertips, scars she hadn’t noticed before because he tended to hide his back from her. She frowned. “What did you do to your back? Oh my God, did I hurt you?”
She ran her hands up and down his sides, and he tensed. When she looked up, she froze, the heat in his gaze singing her where she stood.
He slid his hand over her cheek slowly, his thumb brushing her skin oh so softly. The rough pad of his thumb from where he held his pencil when he worked scraped her skin just right. Too right. “You’re not hurting me, Ev.”
She swallowed hard, her brain going in a thousand different directions, yet each of them ended with her in his arms. She didn’t want to think, didn’t want to do anything except be right there in his arms, with his body so close to hers she could feel the heat of him through the thin blouse she wore.
She needed to think about what he’d just said, needed to remember that her children were sleeping on the other side of her home and that her place of business had just burned down, but she didn’t. Instead, she pushed those thoughts from her mind just this once and decided to do something for herself.
“Kiss me,” she whispered. “I need you to kiss me.” Need. Such a small word for something so big. She never let herself need, not anymore. It had always been about others—something she didn’t regret. But right then, in her laundry room with the world pressing down on her shoulders with so much weight she could barely breathe, she didn’t want to think about anything.
Just her. Just Storm. Just them.
His hand shifted to tighten around the back of her neck, pulling her hair ever so slightly as he did so. Her mouth parted, and he lowered his head. “I shouldn’t be doing this.”
She arched her back. “Then do it anyway.” She needed to forget, to lose herself. She might regret it later, bur right then, she only needed to be in this moment, be in his arms, be with him.
From the way Storm looked at her, she knew she wasn’t alone in her thinking. Then he lowered his head and kissed her. Their mouths met in a tangle of need and moans, his hand tightening even more in her hair, and the other sliding up her side. She ran her hands up and down his back, the ridge of scars so faint she would have missed them if she hadn’t been keenly aware of the feel of his skin. She wanted to know what had happened, wanted to know his secrets, but she didn’t ask. This wasn’t the time for secrets, wasn’t the time for anything except their need, their mouths, their hands. She’d worry about everything else later.
He moved her a step so her back rested along the dryer, the heat and rumbling sensation sending shockwaves through her system. She’d never kissed like this, never made out in her laundry room as the vibrations did wonderful things to her body. Jackson had always made sure they made love in bed with the lights off so they could “explore” one another softly. Before him, she’d only slept with one other man, and it had never amounted to much. She’d never come with her first boyfriend and rarely came with Jackson. It just took her forever to get into that headspace, and by the time she was there, her partner was already done. She knew she wasn’t the only woman in the world with that issue so it didn’t matter all that much.
But from the way Storm pressed the hard length of his erection against her belly, she had a feeling she might miss out if she didn’t come with him. However, there was no such thing as a magic penis, and she knew it would take more than that very nice hard length for her to get off.
Storm tugged on her hair again, this time pulling away so he could look into her eyes. “I lost you,” he said with a growl. “Are you regretting this already?”
She shook her head. “My mind wandered.” That was her problem in bed. She kept thinking about what she was missing or forgetting, so much so that she couldn’t just enjoy the moment. It wasn’t anyone’s fault, it was just the way she was wired.
He tilted his head. “Then I’m not doing my job.” His hands went to her waist, and she widened her eyes. “Gonna need you to jump a bit, Ev. As you saw, my back isn’t what it used to be.” He lowered his head and kissed her quickly. “No questions. Not right now. I don’t think either of us wants those at the moment.”
Since she agreed with him on that part, she didn’t ask about his back. Instead, she put her hands behind her on the dryer and jumped up with his help so she ended up sitting on top of the moving machine. The heat and vibrations went straight to her clit, and she gasped, surprising herself.
Storm grinned then, making him look even more handsome. She’d be lying if she said she’d never noticed how attractive he was. The damn man was far too good-looking for his own good, but never in her wildest dreams would she have imagined her legs wrapped around his waist as she sat on her dryer.
“Feel good?” he asked, rocking into her.
Her eyes crossed, and she tightened her hold on him. “Uh-huh.”
He nipped at her chin before kissing her again, this time a little harder, a little longer. “Tell me when to stop,” he whispered in her ear before gently biting down on her earlobe. That sent shivers through her body, and she pressed her breasts to his chest.
“Don’t stop.” This was crazy. She knew this. He knew it. And yet neither of them was going to stop. She honestly couldn’t believe she was doing this, and yet as soon as he ran his hand down her belly and under her leggings, she arched, all thoughts of what they shouldn’t be doing fleeing her mind in an instant.
The rough pad of his thumb went over her panties, proving to both of them how wet she was. She had to curve her back ever so slightly so he could slide his hand underneath the damp cotton to reach her heat. Their eyes met, and he worked his finger between her folds and up to her clit.
She shuddered, biting her lip as he started to move his hand, bringing her closer and closer to the edge. They didn’t say anything, and she was glad because she wasn’t sure she would be able to speak at all. His fingers speared her, and her body shuddered. It had been so long since she’d been with anyone that she gasped, her body tightening around him. She also didn’t use internal vibrators these days since, usually, she could only come by clitoral stimulation.
He continued to work her on top of the dryer, and the vibrations under her butt just pushed her closer and closer to the edge. But even as that happened, she backed away without meaning to, her mind going to what might happen instead of what was happening. This was how she always ended up in bed, and she hated it. If only she could actually focus, she might be able to orgasm.
Storm took his other hand at that instant and tugged up her shirt, exposing her bra. He kissed her over the lace, leaving a wet mark as he went to the other breast. She leaned her head back, her body warming from the dryer and the power of his touch.
“More fingers, Ev?” he growled. “Or do you want my fingers on your clit and breasts?”
She blinked up at him, her body shaking. “Huh?” she asked, her mind hazy.
“You keep getting close and backing away. Tell me what you like, and I’ll make sure you get there. I can read your body, but there’s nothing better than hearing your words. You know yourself. Tell me what you do to make yourself come.”
No one had ever asked her that. Hell, she was pretty sure she’d never even asked herself that. “Um, I don’t usually come with penetration.” Though his fingers were inside her at that moment, she still blushed. There was something far more intimate in talking about how he could please her than him actually pleasing her.
“Usually.” He nodded. “Okay, we can work with that.” He reached around her and changed the setting on the dryer before grinning down at her. “We’ll go for the faster tumble dry.”
She smiled but let out a moan as the vibrations under her increased, and she found herself rocking on his hand. He kept kissing her mouth, her neck, her breasts, even as his fingers worked their magic on her clit. She found herself on the edge once again, but before she could think herself off of it, he pressed down on her clit at the same time he pinched her nipple and kissed her.
She came with a gasp, her body shaking, her hips arching on his hand and the hot dryer. He kept kissing her, taking in her moans as she came down from her high. As the cycle on the dryer ended, she leaned back, her body hot and heavy. He removed his hand from her pants, kept his eyes on hers, and licked each and every finger. Slowly.
She almost came again.
“I…I’ve never orgasmed that fast. Ever. Like I don’t orgasm enough to know if I do it right most days and…” She snapped her mouth shut, appalled she’d been so honest.
Storm’s eyes softened, and he leaned down to take her lips in a soft, lingering kiss. “You’re beautiful when you come,” he said, his voice gruff. “And I’m going to have to see you do that again.”
She licked her lips and looked down at the straining budge behind his zipper. “What about you?”
“What about me?” he teased, his eyes dancing.
But before she could reach between them, the doorbell rang, and reality stepped in. She sighed, and he let out a curse.
“Next time,” he said quickly, and she froze. Would there be a next time? Damn it. She couldn’t think about that right then. Everything she’d tried not to think about when she was in Storm’s arms slammed into her and she grew cold. “Fuck.” He helped her right herself, and she slid off the dryer.
When the doorbell rang again, she let out a curse of her own. “Damn it. I’m coming.” She blushed at that thought but moved past Storm. “Can you make sure the boys are still sleeping?” she asked. “I’ll get the door.”
Storm nodded and walked to the back of the house without another word. She could still feel him inside her, the echo of memory so intense she knew it may not ever fade away completely. But now she had no idea what they were going to do because life wasn’t just about feeling good for a single instant, it was about so much more, and they had more baggage than most—and she didn’t even know all of his secrets.
She pushed those thoughts from her mind as she opened the door to reveal a familiar redheaded woman.
A woman Everly had just seen in a photo she’d vowed couldn’t be real.
It couldn’t.
The woman raised her chin. “I hear Clay spilled the beans. I think it’s time we talked.”
Everly blinked, wondering why everything seemed to be moving so slowly, as if she couldn’t quite make coherent thoughts. This was the woman who had apparently been with Everly’s husband and had three kids with him.
That can’t be her, she thought.
This was all a dream.
A nightmare.
Because even though Everly had lost almost everything she held dear, this couldn’t be her life. It couldn’t be this bad.
And yet she knew, it not only could be. It was.