Unexpected Fight (Unexpected Arrivals 2)
“Will still be your brother, will remain our friends, and will love us no matter what.”
“You know what I mean.”
“I didn’t ask you about them. I asked you what you wanted.”
I don’t think before I blurt the truth. “You, Ty. I want you.”
“Thank fuck.” He squeezes me a little tighter. “The rest will work itself out,” he assures me.
“Tyler.” I roll over to face him. I can’t see his face, but I need to know he’s hearing me on this. “There’s too much at stake to just leave this to chance.”
“Chance is what we have, Reagan. Chance led me to this moment with you. For you, I’d risk it all.”
“We need to take some time,” I tell him, my mind racing with how to handle this. “We could still be coming off the thrill of our orgasms. We need time to think about it, to process and see where we are after.”
“No.”
“What do you mean, no?”
“I don’t need time. I don’t need to process anything. What I need is you. In my arms, in my bed, in every facet of my life.”
“I don’t want to lose you or cause a rift.” I don’t know why I’m saying the words that are escaping my lips. Hearing him saying those things, after wanting exactly that for so long is like a dream come true. Yet, I’m in disbelief that it’s really happening.
“Let’s just do us, Reags. Me and you. The rest will fall into place.”
After taking in a deep breath, I slowly exhale. “Okay,” I whisper.
“Good. Now, let’s shower and then more of this,” he says, kissing my bare shoulder. He climbs out of bed and turns on the small bedside lamp. “Jesus,” he murmurs.
I blink my eyes against the sudden light and immediately cover myself.
“No.” His voice is stern. “Never. Do not ever hide from me. I want all of you, Reagan.” He offers me his hand and helps me stand from the bed. His eyes roam over every inch of me, not leaving a single inch of my body untouched by his wandering eyes. “Lights on from now on.” He steps into me, wrapping me in his arms. His hard length is pressed against my belly, while his hands rest just above my ass. “Never again do I go without laying eyes on you.” He leans in and buries his face in my neck. Naked. Skin to skin, he holds me. This moment feels even more intimate than when he was inside me. “Let’s shower.” He pulls away only far enough to stand beside me and guide us to the shower.
Chapter 8
Tyler
* * *
I barely slept last night. How could I? I held a naked Reagan in my arms, running my hands over her silky-smooth skin while she slept peacefully. How could I close my eyes and miss something I’ve dreamed about far longer than I can really admit? Glancing at the clock on the nightstand, I see it’s just after seven. The sun is starting to peek through the blinds as my girl stirs in my arms.
“Morning, beautiful.”
“Hey.” Her sleep-laced voice greets me. “What time is it?”
“Just after seven.”
“I need to get going.”
“That wasn’t the plan,” I tell her. If I had my way, we’d stay in this bed all damn weekend.
“I know that’s not what you envisioned for us, but I have clients today.”
“What? Why didn’t you tell me?”
She shrugs. “Caught up in the moment, I guess.”
“Fine,” I grumble good-naturedly. “I’ll see you after?”
“Yes.” She lifts her head, and I meet her halfway, pressing my lips to hers.
“Where?”
“I’ll come here.”
“When?” I’m not letting her out of this bed until we nail this down.
“So insistent,” she teases.
“Damn right, I am. I’m already counting down the hours until I see you again, and you’re still here.”
“Six? That gives me time to shower and do a few things around my place before coming over.”
“Pack a bag.” She raises her eyebrows. “Or don’t. Naked is good too.”
“I’ll see what I can do.” She moves to climb out of bed, and I watch her as she quickly gathers her clothes and disappears into the bathroom. I jump out of bed, pull on some shorts and a T-shirt, and head to the kitchen to make her some coffee. In the cabinet, I find a Beckett Construction travel mug and can’t help but laugh at the irony.
“What’s so funny?”
“This.” I hold up the cup before sticking it under the machine and hitting brew.
“Why is that funny?” she asks.
“Because I’m making this for you.”
She grins. “At least no one will know that it’s yours.”
Wait. What? “Is that not something you want? People to know that it’s mine?”
“No. Yes. I mean, I’m not sure. We’ve not really talked about what this is.” She motions between the two of us.
“Really? Because I thought what this is”—I make the same motion—“was pretty clear.”
She looks at her phone. “Can we talk about this later? I really need to get going.”
Turning to the machine, I wait a few more seconds for it to finish brewing before adding sugar and cream. Done, I twist the lid and hand it to her.
“You know how I take my coffee?”
“Of course I do.” Leaning in, I place a soft kiss on her lips. “Have a good day, baby.”
“Bye, Ty,” she says, unable to hide her grin. I love knowing that her smile is because of me.
I walk her to the front door and out to her car. After another quick kiss to her lips, she’s driving away from me. I can’t help but wonder if she’s running scared. Regardless, I’m not going to let her. I know what we shared last night. It was unlike anything I’ve ever felt before. I’m not giving up. Not without a fight.
Once I make my way back into the house, I grab a protein bar from the cabinet and set off to wash the sheets. I hate losing the smell of her, but if I have my way, there will be many more nights like last night. Two hours later, the laundry is done, the house is straightened up, and I’ve checked the time on my watch what feels like a thousand times. Grabbing my phone from where it’s charging on the counter, I send a text to Reagan.
* * *
Me: How’s your day going?
* * *
I wait, staring at the device as if it holds my only connection to her. She said she had clients, so I don’t expect an immediate reply, but it doesn’t stop me from waiting for one anyway. About ten minutes later, my phone pings.
* * *
Reagan: Busy. We’ve had a lot of walk-ins. Good for business though.
* * *
Me: Can I do anything?
* * *
Reagan: Look at you being all sweet. No, I think we’re good.
* * *
Me: Let me know if something comes up. Can’t wait to see you.
* * *
Reagan: Thanks.
* * *
Not exactly the reply I was hoping for, but I know she’s busy. Looking at the clock, it’s just before eleven o’clock. An idea pops in my head, and I run with it. Rushing to my room, I change c
lothes, this time putting on some underwear and a pair of cargo shorts. I grab some socks from my drawer and sit on the edge of the bed to put them on. My tennis shoes are by the door. Making sure I have my wallet and keys, I slide my feet into my shoes, lock up, and head out on my mission.
Forty-five minutes later, I’m parking my truck in front of her shop. With the two large pizzas and two-liter pop in my hands, I stroll through the front doors. The chime alerts that someone is here, and suddenly all eyes are on me. That’s okay, but the only eyes I care about are the hazel-colored ones that are looking at me in disbelief.
“You said you were busy, so I figured I’d bring lunch,” I say, holding up the pizza boxes.
“I knew I liked you,” Carol says with a smile.
“Take it on back to the breakroom,” Brenda tells me.
One step, then two, I don’t stop moving until I’m standing behind her. “Hey, baby,” I whisper in her ear. I watch as goose bumps break out over her skin. Her hair is pulled up in a high ponytail, exposing her slender neck, and I want nothing more than to trace it with my tongue. Not giving her a chance to reply, I head on back to the breakroom and set the pizza and the pop on the small table.
I barely take a step out of the room before a conversation catches my attention. I stand still and listen. It’s wrong; I know that, but I’m trying to win the girl, so desperate times call for desperate measures.
“Oh, honey, he is a hunk.”
“Mrs. Nichols,” Reagan scolds her. “You’re happily married,” she teases.
“I’m married, not dead. That boy is a handsome devil. He’s yours, right? He’s the one Martha was telling us about last night at the spaghetti dinner.”
My feet are already moving toward her, having heard enough. It’s time to put it out there.
“Not yet, ma’am,” I say, appearing beside Reagan. “I’m working on it.”
“Oh, you handsome devil,” she coos. “Reagan, you need to stop torturing the poor boy.”