“You think I slept with you out of pity? I doubt that’s what he meant when he asked me to take care of his girls. And the date? Yeah,you’re not going,” he snarled, yanking the books out of her hands and tossing them onto the floor behind them. She opened her mouth to protest, but he laced his fingers through the back of her hair roughly and she gasped, her mouth moving against his where he was pressed so close. “That fucking promise I made to Hank was the last thing on my mind that night or any time after that, Val, and trust me when I say this never would have happened if it were Noe or Willow. All I could fucking think about was how stunning you looked in that fucking dress and how exquisite you were out of it… How good you felt beneath me, around me… How fucking hard you came on my tongue, my fingers, my dick. The sounds that came out of your mouth while I fucked you… No, Val. The only thing I could think about was you. How I wanted to do exactly that every goddamn night and morning for the rest of my life. And I’ll say it again, you’re not going on any fucking date with anyone but me.”
He kissed her, hard. His tongue snaked into her mouth, and he drank in the moan that escaped her. He pressed his muscledarm around her waist, pulling her closer against his body until she felt how hard he was against her.
“You can’t just tell me I’m not allowed to go on a date—” she whispered heatedly but was cut off by another kiss.
“I can and I just did,” he growled menacingly, making her shiver. “Cancel on the fucker, Val.”
“You avoided me for two weeks,” she whispered against his mouth, not responding to the last part. “Why should I cancel my birthday date for someone that didn’t talk to me for two weeks?”
Turning her head slightly by tugging her hair, he lowered his mouth to the curve of her throat, where it met her shoulder. He dragged his mouth over her skin hotly, sipping kisses until her entire body broke out in goosebumps.
“I won’t lie and say that guilt wasn’t eating me alive,” he murmured hoarsely against her skin before raising his head to stare at her with those dark eyes. “Your father trusted me to take care of you. I felt like I betrayed that, especially because I enjoyed it so much and never wanted to stop. And I know you don’t want to go out with some prick tonight, sweetheart. I know you better than that.”
Sighing against his mouth, she kissed him before whispering, “There is no date, Beau. I only told Noelle I had a date so she would leave me to myself tonight. There isn’t anyone else.”
“You’re fucking trouble,” he breathed, shaking his head with a low chuckle. “Do you have any idea how insanely jealous I’ve been since yesterday? Imagining you wearing a dress like you wore for me for some other lousy fucker? I hated it, Val.” He swallowed hard then, and she watched his Adam’s apple dip in his throat before climbing again. “You deserve the world, sweetheart, and I’ve been a self-proclaimed bachelor my entire life. Dating isn’t something I do, isn’t something I even knowhowto do.”
Her heart hammered in her chest, and she felt humiliation roil through her. She nodded as tears stung her nose. “Of course,” shewhispered, lowering her eyes before he could see the tears well in them.I’m such a fucking idiot! He’s already told you all this! Why can’t you just take a stupid hint?!
“I’ll screw up more than I get right, especially at first,” he continued, his voice gruff. She snapped her head up, her wide eyes meeting his in surprise. His dark eyes crinkled lightly at the corners as he smiled ruefully, at the same time he stroked his thumb over her cheek, over her lower lip. “I’m not good at date nights, or communicating my feelings, or having someone else in my space… But if you’ll let me try, I’ll always take you to the bookstore and let you get as many damn books as your arms can carry, even if you already have three of the same book. I’ll make sure your favorite ice cream is in the freezer, I’ll never end a hug until you’re ready to let go, and if your body can handle it, I’ll give you two dozen orgasms every night.” She laughed out loud, her mouth quirking into a bemused smirk. She tilted her cheek into his palm as he cupped it gently, his dark eyes searching hers. “Be mine, Val. You were my first Valentine… I think I’d like you to be my last, if you’ll have me, too.”
Wrapping her arms around him, he did the same, fitting their bodies as closely together as physically possible. Leaning up, she pressed her mouth to his, sweetly, gently. “Beau?”
“Yeah, Val?” he whispered against her mouth.
“Don’t let go.”
The smile that curved his lips against hers made her heart ache in the best way possible, and a matching smile tugged at her lips. “Never again, sweetheart. I promise.”
EPILOGUE
Sitting at one of the umbrella covered patio tables outside ofThe Wine Garden, Val watched as the August sun began to set across the bay. The heat of the day had finally started to abate, just enough to be comfortable. A glass of wine sat in front of her, and a waiter came by to clear her salad plate from the table, as well as to refill Beau’s draft beer.
Raising the frosty glass, he held it out to her and she smiled, lifting her wine glass to clink it against his. “To the first six months of the rest of our lives, sweetheart.”
“You know, for someone that claimed to not be good at this dating thing, you’re kinda killin’ it, babe,” she teased, smiling broadly.
“Yeah?” he asked, not at all attempting to cover the obvious fish for compliments. Leaning close to her from where he sat adjacent to her at the small table, he slid his palm over the bare skin of her thigh, to where the high hem of her skirt ended.
“Yeah,” she whispered breathily, biting her lower lip as heat spread across her at his touch.
“Well, you make me want to be the best I can be, Val. For you. Always,” he said softly, his voice low. He wasso handsome in a button down, short sleeved shirt, the pale blue a stunning contrast to his dark coloring. The muscles of his shoulders and arms pulled at the material, and his tattoos were extra visible with the short sleeves straining around his biceps. Despite the heat of the day, he wore a pair of jeans and a pair of black boots. “I’m just glad I wasn’t the idiot that let you get away.”
His fingers curled around the inside of her left thigh, sandwiched between her legs, his thumb stroking over the smooth skin there, making her entire body hum with need. “Beau…”
“Hmm?” he asked innocently, still leaning close. His dark eyes sparkled with mischief. Oh, he knew exactly what he was doing. A few more inches up, and his fingers would know just how wet she was. Not that it ever took much. He was too sexy for her own good. She was in a perpetual state of arousal.
Two men stopped at their table and Val shifted slightly, her cheeks flaring red when their eyes drifted down to where Beau’s hand was situated between her thighs, halfway beneath her short skirt. He squeezed the meaty part of her leg, but didn’t pull his hand away, instead letting his thumb continue its lazy strumming along her skin.
“Beau, Val, how was everything tonight?” Grant Price asked. He wore a crisp white button-down shirt, the sleeves rolled up to reveal his forearms, and the top two buttons were left undone in deference to the heat outside. His dark hair was brushed back from his forehead.
“Everything was wonderful, as usual,” Val said with a smile, covering Beau’s hand with her own and squeezing his fingers. “Van, that Caesar salad with the lemon salmon was incredible. I could have licked my plate.”
The tall blonde laughed, revealing a stunningly attractive smile. His white chef jacket was pristine and wrinkle free; she didn’t know how he did it. When she cooked, she ended up with a mess to rival an explosion. His jacket sleeves were also rolled to his forearms, and she was surprised to see them covered intattoos. “Thank you, Val. It’s one of our simpler dishes, but definitely a favorite. Very light for hot days like today.”
“We had hoped to see you before we head out of town,” Grant said, and then waved to a waiter. The waiter stepped forward, setting a beautiful dessert between herself and Beau.
“Rose Blossom Panna Cotta Tart,” Van said, gesturing to the dessert. “We’re just glad we were a part of your origin story. Happy six months to you; we look forward to being a part of many more of your milestones.”
