Jaded (Walkers Ford #2)

“Won’t that be Freddie’s big thing?”


“I’m her maid of honor, for one thing. Freddie’s front-facing, as my IT guy would say. She’ll pick and choose from whatever I come up with for caterers, dress, decorations, but I’ll do the research. That’s my job. Freddie doesn’t have the patience for research, and I don’t have the aptitude for implementing. She’s easy enough to work with. It’s Mother who second-guesses things, or asks for just a few more options.”

She turned to face him. The moonlight gilded her high cheekbone and ear in silver light. “And then I think about how Adam and Marissa have one parent between them at their wedding, and I feel ashamed for resenting my own mother’s involvement.”

“I should go,” he said.

“Stay,” she whispered. She reached up to stroke his cheekbone, her fingers seemingly fascinated by the line where skin gave over to scruff. “You don’t have to go home tonight. Stay with me.”

He shouldn’t. He knew he shouldn’t, but rather than getting up, he reached for the alarm clock and set it for seven. Plenty of time to go back to his room, shower, and get ready for a bachelor party of rock climbing.

When he flopped on his back, she cuddled in close. As he drifted into sleep, he thought he heard the stars spangling on the waves.

? ? ?

THE ALARM SHRIEKED to life at exactly seven in the middle of radio personalities shouting over the latest celebrity-breakup scandal. With one hand Lucas scrabbled for the alarm, shutting it off by yanking the cord from the outlet in the wall.

“Don’t stop,” he growled, and tightened his grip on her hips. “Do. Not. Stop.”

Alana gave a throaty little laugh as she lifted herself to the tip of his cock, then glided down. The movement worked the head of his cock and wrenched a groan from his throat. “Like that?”

“Yes. Oh, fuck . . . like that.” He dug his heel into the smooth cotton sheet and thrust up.

She gasped, then braced her hands on his chest and rode him in earnest. She could probably feel his heart pounding against his ribs, but he could see her pulse racing at the base of her throat. Her head dropped forward, her hair hiding her expression, but then she tipped back, exposing the long line of her throat. “Oh yes,” she whispered. She slumped forward, breathless in release. “Lucas. Yes.”

The sound of his name in her mouth snapped his control. He wrapped his arms around her, rolled them, and drove into her once, twice. Again. She gave a satisfied little growl when he came.

“Jesus,” he said.

In the aftermath, her hand wound into his hair. “I like sleeping together,” she said smugly.

He grunted his agreement, then extracted himself from the tangle of her limbs and the sheets to dispose of the condom. “Christ,” he said when he got to his feet.

“Sure you’re up for rock climbing today?” she asked when he came out of the bathroom.

He slid her a glance, then snagged his shorts and underwear from the floor. Not even two rounds of sex in ten hours could dissipate his emotions about once again going rock climbing, but Alana didn’t know how much he used to love the sport, how a difficult climb took his mind off the stress of the job, how he hadn’t planned a trip to the Black Hills or the Rockies in years. “I’ll be fine,” he said.

She braced her head on her palm and looked at him. “You don’t have to go, you know.”

“What are you going to do today?” he asked as he buttoned his shorts.

“Help Marissa get ready later this afternoon, but before then, I’m going shopping,” she said. “I need to wrap my gift. I had time to pick it up but didn’t get it wrapped.”

“Would you get me a gift card holder?” He reached for his wallet and pulled out a gift card to an online bookstore. “Adam said in his e-mails they were buying e-books.”

“That’s thoughtful,” she said. “I’ll find something.”

“Thanks,” he said.

“Be safe today,” she said.

He stopped with his hand on the doorknob. His ex-wife used to say the same thing every morning. “You never say that in Walkers Ford.”

“I guess I think climbing up a forty-foot sheer face is more dangerous than policing Walkers Ford.” Her eyes went distant. “I could be wrong, though. I wonder which situation results in more deaths annually, small-town police work or extreme sports.”

He huffed out a laugh. “Look it up and let me know when I get back. Because I will come back.”

“Good,” she said with a soft smile.

He made it back to his room without running into anyone, took a fast shower, and went down to the lobby to have breakfast. Nate was already at a table, the newspaper open beside him as he ate. His cell phone sat on the table beside the paper.