Strong Enough to Love (Jackson Hole 1.20)

They’d been opposites. At first, he’d believed the old adage that opposites attract. She’d made his world exciting. And he’d made hers safe. She could count on him, lean on him, and at first, that had been what she’d needed. But she’d loved drama and passion, and after ten years of steadiness, she’d left.

They’d tried again. And again. When she’d left him in Jackson and gone back to Raleigh, he’d thought it was the end. Hell, he’d wanted it to be the end, even before he’d met Eve. But he’d tried one more time, because Julia had asked. For the first time, she’d volunteered to try therapy. She’d wanted one more shot. After twenty years of love and history, he’d owed her that.

Leaving Jackson had been the hardest thing he’d ever done, but it had been right. He and Julia had finally learned to speak to each other as adults, even about the stuff that hurt. Even about the most painful truth of all...that their marriage had been over for years. In the end, they’d walked away as friends.

Which was more than he could say for him and Eve.

He’d hurt her badly. But he’d make it up to her. She’d forgive him. She had to, because what would he do if she didn’t?

Brian let himself into his room. He tossed his jacket over the chair and walked immediately to the window to stare out toward her studio.

She’d walk that same path soon. She’d skirt around the square and come up to his room and she’d be here.

This couldn’t be happening, because it was a mistake. He didn’t want to touch her like this, with anger and finality between them. He wanted this to start the way it should have, with all the love and yearning he’d felt for her two years ago.

He should’ve said no to her ridiculous idea. But his no wouldn’t have mattered, because his body didn’t care about the hows and whys. His body was tight and energized with the knowledge that she’d be here in minutes, and his cock swelled with the anticipation of touching her. Finally.

Brian couldn’t count the number of times he’d fantasized about it. In prurient ways certainly, but in smaller moments, too. In quiet moments, when she’d sneak past his distraction with some quiet

joke that would catch him by surprise. He’d laugh then, at the unexpected humor, but also at the happiness she brought him, and he’d almost lean toward her. So many times. It had seemed the most natural thing in the world to lean in and kiss her.

But he’d never let himself. He’d had to pay his dues. He hadn’t had a choice. And he didn’t have a choice now.

He couldn’t walk away. It wasn’t possible.

His hands shook. His heart pounded. This wasn’t happening. It wasn’t what he wanted. But he needed it more than life.

CHAPTER THREE

SHE’D SHOWERED AND dressed for the party earlier, but Eve still stripped down and tried on ten different pairs of panties, hoping to find something that would make her feel sexy. It didn’t work. She didn’t own anything scandalous, and she wasn’t twenty anymore, so after a few long minutes of staring hopelessly at her not-quite-taut body, she pulled on a pair of black panties and a matching bra and left it at that. He could close his eyes and imagine something sexier, if that was what he wanted.

She put on the only little black dress she owned, added the matching heels, then left before she could worry that she looked like she was trying too hard. This was the one memory she’d have of him, and she’d write it the way she wanted, with his hands sliding soft black fabric off her shoulders.

And that image was all it took. Her anger fell away and her pulse quickened. She was on her way to Brian’s hotel room. To his bed. To his arms.

As soon as her heels touched the walk, she turned without hesitation and moved quickly toward the next street. He was only two blocks away. The cold hadn’t even started to sink in when she reached the hotel and stepped into the warmth created by the lobby’s fireplace.

Eyes averted, she walked straight past the reception desk to the elevator, a little afraid she’d see someone she knew. If she did, what could she say? That she was on her way up to a party? A reunion? Wearing nothing but a little black dress and heels? Eve kept her head down, and nearly jumped into the elevator for the ride to the third floor.

Would Brian try to talk her out of this? Would he hesitate? If he did, she’d just take off her dress.

Her mouth went dry at even the thought of being so brazen, but when the elevator doors opened, she stepped determinedly off. She was done with being denied. Done with doing the right thing. Done being careful. Tonight she’d take what she wanted and she’d deal with the consequences tomorrow. But she had to keep moving. If she stopped, if she really thought this through... No. She wouldn’t give this up out of fear.

She was determined to remember every second of this, but even walking down the hallway felt a little hazy and far away. When she found his door and raised a hand to knock, it was someone else’s hand in someone else’s dream. But when the door opened, there was no doubt whose fantasy this was, because Brian stood there, still angry, but softer somehow. His sleeves rolled up to reveal his strong forearms. His hair mussed as if he’d scrubbed his hand through it. He looked as he had so many times with her when he’d been working for hours and was losing the light he wanted.

Eve’s mouth watered.

She knew how to get rid of his tension. She’d always been good at that, but this time, it wouldn’t be about making him laugh. This time she’d distract him with something different.

His eyes slid down her body as he stepped aside to let her in. She set down her purse and watched him as he edged past her. She had no idea what to do now. She’d instigated this, but all those years of forcing herself to never touch him had trained her muscles. She couldn’t just reach out and press her hand to his chest. She couldn’t step into his arms. So she watched him.

“You look beautiful,” he said.

She whispered, “Thank you,” clutching her hands together as her thoughts dissolved into nervous chatter. She was filled with the truth of how much she wanted him and how much this scared her.

The room was dim, but the single lamp he’d left on let her see him clearly enough. Despite her heels, he was still inches taller than her, and his wide shoulders made him seem even larger. She wanted to stroke her hands along those muscles. She wanted to clutch them.

But she surprised herself. When he took a step toward her, she stepped back. That didn’t dissuade him, thank God. “Eve,” he whispered, moving closer, and suddenly the wall was at her back and his body was only a few inches away.