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Authors: Prescott Lane

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Wrapped in Lace (12 page)

BOOK: Wrapped in Lace
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Drew held my
hand as I drove his truck through McAdenville. He was still being quiet, but the feeling wasn’t heavy this time. I got the impression he was just giving me time to process what he told me, and I was thankful. I felt disgusted and angry, and I was so happy I hit Rob the other night. I hated cheaters. And having your brother be one of the culprits must have been devastating. No wonder Drew didn’t come back here. I could understand a little bit better now, but that wasn’t going to make things any easier between Drew and me. But for now, I just wanted to enjoy Christmas, the snow, the carols, but mostly the man beside me.

“Ellie was jealous of you,” Drew said quietly.

“When?”

“I think she always was,” he said. “That’s why I stopped writing to you.”

“I thought you said the guys were teasing you.” I stole a glance at him.

“I lied,” Drew said, his eyes cast down.

“You lied to me? Ellie is the real reason you stopped writing to me?”

He nodded. “She and I started hanging out a lot about a year after you moved. She saw one of your letters on the kitchen table one day and freaked out. Told me I was cheating on her by writing to you.”

I gripped the steering wheel, wanting to claw her eyes out. I’d been no threat to her. I was living a thousand miles away. Drew and I were nothing more than pen pals at that point. “I figured you just lost interest. My letters to you were always so boring.” He reached for my hand, and even through my mitten, I felt my body tingle at his touch.

“I waited for the mail every Friday for your letter. I loved getting them. The paper always smelled like flowers.”

“You smelled them?”

He flashed me a grin. “Tease, I know you used to spray them with something.”

I laughed. He’d caught me. I sprayed them with my mom’s perfume. They were hardly love letters. In fact, we never once wrote about our kiss or feelings beyond friendship. “The first week you didn’t answer, I cried for days.” I think I could see his heart breaking in his blue eyes, but I wanted him to know how bad I felt, how abandoned.

“I’m sorry. I should never have let Ellie get to me like that.”

“I never did care for her much.”

“I just wanted you to know why I stopped writing. It had nothing to do with you or how I felt about you.” He squeezed my hand. “That never changed.”

I wondered what exactly he felt for me, but three days into a relationship was hardly the time to ask. “Thanks for telling me.”

“Hey,” he said, rubbing my hand. “I really am sorry.”

“Ok.” I quickly wiped away a little tear. “It just felt like our friendship didn’t mean anything to you. You just stopped writing, no explanation. Just like. . . .” I stopped myself. I didn’t want to go there. I didn’t want to be that person who couldn’t forgive and let go of the past.

“Just like your mom,” Drew said softly.

I’d forgotten how well he knew me. He knew all my secrets, all my insecurities. He was the only person I ever talked to about my mom, about how sad it made me that she just left me. My grandparents were the best, but having your mother dump you off on someone like you didn’t matter was a tough thing to swallow as a kid. I got my fair share of teasing about it, too, and Drew was the only one who I ever confided in. He got in a good number of fights defending me as well. That’s why it hurt even worse when he stopped writing. He knew I had issues about feeling wanted and cherished, yet he dumped me, just like my mother had.

“Piper, I never even thought about that.”

“It’s all right,” I said. “It’s my hang-up.”

“Don’t do that,” he said. “Don’t act like you’re tough. Like it didn’t hurt you. Don’t do that shit with me.”

I pulled his truck in front of Hank’s and turned off the ignition. “I’m not.”

He sighed. “I won’t do that again.” He unbuckled his seatbelt and scooted closer to me. “I won’t just disappear out of your life again. I won’t abandon you.” I couldn’t look up at him. I just couldn’t. This was my weak spot, my most vulnerable place. I hid this insecurity so well that Drew was the only one who knew it was there. “Look at me, Piper,” he said gently. I turned my eyes in his direction but looked at his mouth. I couldn’t look into his blue eyes. “I
won’t
disappear.”

“But what if this thing between us doesn’t work out?”

“I won’t disappear.”

“But what if you meet some other girl and she’s like Ellie and doesn’t. . . .”


I won’t disappear
.”

“But what if. . . .”

He grabbed my cheeks. “I won’t disappear unless you tell me to take a hike.”

I felt myself start to smile. He’d be around for a long time, then. “Good,” I said as I wrapped my arms around him and combed my fingers through his brown hair.

*

“My Christmas surprise
is Hank’s?” Drew asked, hopping out of his truck to get my door.

I was so nervous, my heart thumping in my chest. I wasn’t sure what Drew would think about his surprise. I wanted him to love it. I led him to the side of the building and pointed to a set of stairs. “Your surprise is on the second floor.”

“I never knew there was a second floor above Hank’s,” Drew said, motioning for me to lead the way.

I kicked some snow off the steps. “You just want to stare at my ass,” I teased him. “Guys think they are being so sly, acting all gentlemanly letting a woman walk in front of them, but they are just checking out our rear ends.”

Drew laughed, smacked my ass, then placed his hands on my hips from behind. “Just making sure you don’t fall.”

I wiggled my hips at him as we walked up stairs. We came to a little landing, and I put my key in the lock, feeling my hand tremble slightly. I never brought anyone up here. It was my little retreat, and the only person who even knew about it was Hank. I took a deep breath before I turned the knob. I opened the door slowly but didn’t turn on any of the lights. Sliding my hand into Drew’s, I lead him into the darkness and closed the door. “Wait here.” I left Drew standing in the dark and hurried over to the windows and pulled back the coverings so light flooded the room and hit every piece of artwork. “It’s my art studio,” I said, pulling off my mittens and taking off my coat.

Drew took another step inside, removing his coat, his eyes wide, his mouth dropped. There were canvases spread all over the room—some on display, others on the floor. There was some photography equipment in the corner. My studio was a huge, open space with only a small bathroom attached. I had a mini refrigerator and a fluffy sofa, but aside from that, there was nothing here to distract me, and the natural light was phenomenal.

Drew took a few more steps inside, his hands running over a few pieces. “Charcoal?” he asked, looking over at me.

I gave a little nod, feeling my knees trembling. It’s always hard for someone to see your work for the first time. It’s like showing someone your soul, knowing they will judge you. “I started out doing photography, then moved into oil painting, but most of my recent stuff is charcoal.” His eyes lapped over my work, and I felt my body tingle. He looked at my canvas like he looked at my body, with hunger.

My work was seductive. I wouldn’t call it erotica, but it definitely pushed the envelope. He stopped in front of one sketch. I’d tried to capture the moment right before your lips touched another person’s for the first time—the desire, the hesitation. “Breathing Space, that’s the title of that piece.”

“You need them to breathe, but they take your breath away,” Drew whispered.

“Exactly.” He got it; he got me.

He bent down, examining it closer, then sprung up, his blue eyes finding mine. “Firefly?”

I smiled shyly. “I sign all my pieces Firefly. It’s how I’m known in the art world, sort of like a pen name.”

“But Hank knows?”

“He’s my landlord, so yeah. And now you, but no one else.”

He wandered around looking at a few more pieces, and I felt my body starting to settle down. “Why Firefly?”

I fiddled with some pencils on a worktable, the nerves flying back. I was really hoping he’d make the connection himself. “You really don’t remember?”

His brow wrinkled. “Am I supposed to?”

“Do you remember when we had our first campout in your backyard?” I asked, moving towards him.

His body drifted towards mine. “Sort of.”

“I was the only girl, remember? So, I had my own tent. I was alone.”

His blue eyes softened, and he took me by my waist, his fingers slowly circling my hips. “I knew you were scared of the dark and always slept with a nightlight.”

“I was trying so hard not to cry. I was the tomboy girl, supposed to be tough.”

“I waited until everyone else was asleep, then I unzipped your tent.”

“You pulled out two Mason jars full of fireflies. You told me they were my nightlights.”

“I’d forgotten all about that,” Drew said, stroking my hair.

“Did you forget what else you told me that night?” I asked.

He flashed his sexy little smile. “I remember. I said you were just like the fireflies. Small, but full of light, and if they weren’t scared, then you shouldn’t be, either.”

He’d always been a charmer. “Six-year-old poet,” I teased him.

“I was smooth even then.” Drew chuckled.

“You slept outside my tent all night, just to make sure I was all right.”

“I did,” Drew said then intertwined our fingers, our bodies pressing against each other. “I remember sticking my hand inside your tent and holding your hand.”

“We slept that way all night,” I said.

Drew smiled down at me. “You were my best friend.”

“You took a lot of shit for being friends with a girl.”

“I didn’t care.”

“I know, that’s why I loved you.” The words flew out before I could stop them. I wanted to kick myself for bringing up that part of the story. Drew had been back in my life for only a few days, but I knew I still loved him, and it was more than kid love. I knew it was too quick to say it out loud. I knew it was too quick to even be feeling this way. But sometimes you just can’t control your own heart, especially when you gave it away a long time ago—to the cute boy who lived down the street that made you firefly nightlights so you wouldn’t be scared. But my words didn’t upset Drew. He didn’t flinch or move away. His eyes stayed steady as he gazed down at me.

“We used to tell each other that every day. Why’s it so easy to love when you’re a kid?” he asked.

“Because no one has hurt us yet,” I said. “And love doesn’t come with strings attached when you’re a kid.” He took a little step away, and I wanted to cry at the loss of contact. I felt so stupid for letting the conversation get so serious. It was Christmas Day. We shouldn’t be talking about such heavy topics. It should be light and fun.

“That’s the hard part,” Drew said softly. “To love like no one has ever hurt us.”

I wondered if he’d let himself love anyone since Ellie. I pointed to a sketch of a man’s hand wiping a tear on a woman’s cheek. “That’s the beautiful part.”

He flashed me that amazingly sexy smile then ran his hand across my cheek, like the sketch. “Beautiful,” he whispered.

“Is my secret art studio safe with you?” I asked.

“Of course, your work is really good.” He stepped away, taking another look around.

“Good? They aren’t supposed to be good. They’re supposed to cause a different reaction.”

He turned around and captured me in his arms, pressing his hips into me. “Trust me, they’re doing their job.” His hands on my waist, he lifted my sweater just slightly and grazed my bare flesh. “Knowing these came out of your head is such a turn-on. You have no idea.”

“Do you have a favorite?” I teased.

“I like them all, but this one is my favorite.” He pointed to the painting of a close-up of a woman’s hands tied to a bedpost with a strand of pearls. He started to kiss my neck gently then stopped. “Are these you?”

I laughed so hard I thought I might burst. “I wish. I just have a dirty mind.”

He flashed me a wicked smile. “Want to get naked and tell me all about it?”

My laughter immediately stopped. He had that look, the look from the bar, the look that made my body roll, my knees weak, and my panties soak. His eyes were telling me in no uncertain terms that he had to have me.

“You like that idea?” he asked, taking me down onto the sofa.


Mmm
,” I moaned through a smile. His hand slid between my legs and cupped me. I wanted to hide. I knew he could tell how needy I was. I knew I was wet through my jeans.

“Christ, you’re so ready.”

“I can’t help it,” I whispered. “Your voice does things to me.”

His sexy grin covered his face. It was hot. But then he moved his hand, and I groaned. I wanted him touching me. I needed him touching me. I wiggled my hips, grinding into him. I had turned into a wanton sex fiend. He held my hips down so I couldn’t move.

“I bet I can make you come just by talking to you,” Drew said, his breath warm on my neck.

My eyes flew open. I knew he probably could. The idea was exciting, but I was also embarrassed that he knew he had that power over me. Besides, I figured his voice would take longer, and I was ready to explode. I slid my hand down his abs and felt his muscles shake. I hadn’t gotten the chance to touch him at the bar, so he was bound to be needier than I was. Plus, I wanted to see him naked. I’d only caught little glimpses, only felt his hard body above clothes. But then he grabbed my hand and pinned it over my head.

BOOK: Wrapped in Lace
6.86Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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