Heartburn (Love By Design 3)

“Of course you would.” She huffed, almost knocking my nose out of joint with her head. “Men don’t start looking for love until they’re at least thirty and still not in a committed relationship. You’ve gotta have that one friend who’s getting married to ruin it for the rest of you and even then you don’t call it love.”

She’d definitely dismissed me.

It wasn’t impossible, I just didn’t know if love was for me or not.

“Not everyone is looking for a relationship.” I replied.

“That’s for sure.” Her brow wrinkled and I’d bet the last granola bar she was thinking about that idiot football dude.

“Cynical.” She turned, giving me a dirty look and I wondered how we got here, to this impasse. I pointed at her, letting my finger playfully flick her pert nose. “But not entirely untrue.”

I thought about Hunter and Damien, my best friends from school, cousins and different as night and day. They were a perfect yin and yang. Hunter finally fessed up to loving his best friend Taylor for years while Damien was still playing the field hard pinning for one girl in particular. It had become a tired joke amongst us all because it was obvious they’d get together sooner or later.

“I said I found it overrated, not that I didn’t think it was impossible.” I did have that one friend on the cusp of getting married, but his relationship was the stuff of fairytales.

Truthfully, I was somewhere in between. My work schedule made dating difficult at best. Not a ton of girls I knew appreciated a guy who worked twelve hour shifts like my friend Evan, a cop in town. We usually had regular hookups that weren’t looking for anything long-term. I wasn’t currently seeing anyone, but I also wasn’t bar hopping for bratty girls who wanted dollar pitchers of margaritas and fifty cent wings every Friday night. I didn’t know what I was looking for, but that’s probably why my front porch had a custom pair of matching rockers and not just one.

7

Lia

According to Whit, love was overrated… or at least what I thought passed for love. Certainly all the flowery bullshit that never happened made it all so unrealistic. I was no expert and who was I to judge? I tried to hook up with Ryder West and ended up lost in the woods with a real honest to goodness Boy Scout. A Boy Scout who was resting his arms around me while the heat from the fire left me lightheaded and lusting for more than his cargo pocket uniform pants presently slung over a bench to dry.

Humming, I let my thoughts wander and instead of the football player, I imagined a bare-chested man wearing flannel and dark green cargos fighting off bears and mountain lions with a hatchet. Next I’d picture him as a neatly manscaped version of Jason Momoa scaling rock walls like the local belayers. Ridiculous really, but a little giggle escaped my mouth and Whit rocked behind me.

“What’s so funny?” His junk pressed against me as he scooted closer, but not because he was being a pervert. My previous exhaustion dissipated into renewed energy in his presence. The air in the cabin was cold and humid from the rain. All things considered, I liked Whit exactly where he was, warming me like a solid piece of granite boulder you’d find in the woods.

Staid.

Perfect.

“Nothing…I just…um…have you ever gone belaying?” I winced. It was such a cop out. What the hell was the point of small talk? I should have been grabbing life by its proverbial horns or cat tails.

“Belaying?” He chuffed and squeezed me with a heavy breath that tickled my neck.

“Uh huh.” I said breathlessly burrowing deeper in his arms.

“Yeah, a few times.” My insides quivered and it was now or never with my second question. I was grabbing cat tails and hoped it was worth the risk.

“How do you feel about one-night hook-ups?” It was a stupid thought once it was out of my mouth. I wasn’t sure where my lady balls dropped from that I actually pulled words from my brain and let them escape out loud.

Whit stayed where he was like he was thinking how to play this out and my nerves sparked into overdrive. “Just like that, huh? From belaying to sex.”

He muttered something about hauling me over his shoulder and without peeking behind me I knew his humor was intact. He kissed my bare shoulder, his teeth lingered a moment before speaking again as if he thought about biting me. “I can’t say I’m opposed under the right conditions.” Mentally, I dared him to bite as hands rubbed up and down my shoulders warming me before exploring further.

My brashness fizzled away when the pads of his fingers slowly traced my shoulder in mesmerizing slow circles dipping down my arm under the blanket. Exposing my skin to the chill of the cabin had an erotic feeling no amount of secretly watching porn on my cell phone at night abated. There was a forbidden quality to it that I loved.

Trying to get Ryder to notice me was an epic fail and I realized now how ephemeral my feelings were for him. I would have had better luck with Connor or Mateo, but neither had enough electrical impulses above the neck between them to carry on enough intelligent conversation to get me wet. It was a sad state of affairs my mind worked that way.

Was I being desperate with my hurt ego to go for it here, right now with Whit? I might feel that way tomorrow, but right now in the heat of the moment I wanted that one crazy experience I could keep to myself. A little something I could whisper to those damn cats I was destined to own once I resumed my wickedly boring life. Each stroke of his fingertips lulled me closer to those bad decisions I’d regret later, but indulged in right now.

I swallowed the pensive lump in my throat. Go big or go home, right? “Um…” Focus, Lia, for Christ’s sake, the hottest guy under thirty is paying attention to you! Don’t blow it! “I’ve never really been into them myself, hook-ups that is, but I’m not exactly warming up here with just the fire going.” Who is this sassy version of myself? Hello, world, Miss Amelia Rae Faust has finally got her groove back! Coyly, I let the musty damp wool slip down in between us and let my back fully lean into hot, velvet soft, hard skin. Hot damn. I rubbed against him delighting in the friction.

“Hmm, you do feel a bit chilled, and it is my duty here to protect and serve under the guise of wildlife management.” That shouldn’t have sounded nearly as dirty as it did. Whit should have sounded like a cocky bastard or a cheesy bullshitting fool…but he didn’t. His breath heated my neck and he brushed my hair to the side over my shoulder. I hung my head forward to give him more access. Heck, I’d give him all the access in the world to feel this. His hand, large and rough, gathered the braided rope of my tangled hair before pulling on it in a controlled manner. One hand was in my hair, and the other snaked around my middle to pull me farther back into his embrace flush against his wall of abs.

I coughed out the last of my uncomfortableness. “Well, you’re doing a good job so far,” I muttered whatever shit popped into my head and let Whit take the lead. His touch felt so damn good, like I’d been waiting for one of us to make a move this entire time. Fumbled experiences with boys before him paled. My eyes watched the flames of fire dance red and yellow, my body flushing in tandem, warming with the bloom of more than desire for my savior.

I needed my brain to shut up now.