All of Me (All Series Book 2) (13 page)

BOOK: All of Me (All Series Book 2)
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“Let me guess, yours is as finished as the rest of the house. I bet it’s log cabin style too.”

She was right, but he wanted to know. “Why do you say that?”

“Because it’s your style and it would be easier to keep clean.”

Again, she was right. It was silly really, how important it was that she liked his home. But it wasn’t just a place to live. It was his life, his livelihood.

As a child he always loved drawing homes, different styles and tastes. But the ones that drew him in the most, the ones that touched him were the simple styles. The cabin in the woods, the mixture of old and modern.

He could design anything, and had, but most weren’t what he wanted to be surrounded by. He was at peace in this house, and he needed someone to be at peace with him here.

Alec was right: no more comparisons and no more measurements. This simple house tour revealed the one thing holding him back from ever really committing to someone.

Watching her face brighten when she asked him to light the fireplace in his room on the first cold night had him catching his breath. She didn’t notice. She was too busy running her hands over the stonework and examining it up close after she rushed over to it.

He’d be willing to bet she had no clue that she assumed they would still be together months from now. It naturally slipped out of her mouth as if it were a given.

What might have sent chills of fear down his spine before when a woman made that assumption had the opposite effect on him this time. He was actually looking forward to it, and wishing for spring and summer to vanish, even fall. He was now longing for that cold night of winter to spend with her.

He’d always known Sophia
could
be the one but wasn’t sure if she
was
the one. Now he knew.

Vulnerable

 

 

Sophia looked over at Phil on the deck. They had been sitting there for about an hour already. After a quick lunch, she’d unpacked her few belongings and stored them in his dresser. She was actually content with leaving them in her bag, but he told her to unpack—he wanted her to feel at home.

Then they went to the kitchen, made a few sandwiches, and retired to the deck to relax in the early May sunlight. The weather was perfect, hovering around mid-seventies, the lake was quiet, and she was happy in a way that she hadn’t felt in a long time.

Thinking back, she realized she’d never felt this much at peace before. Even in her loft in Manhattan, and that was the first place she could call her own. “Any plans for the day?” she asked.

“Anything you want to do?”

“Not really. I kind of like it out here.”

“I thought we could go on the boat later, take a ride, and swing over to a little pub on the water for dinner.”

“That sounds about perfect.”

 

***

 

Hours later, Phil looked over at Sophia on the boat. The wind blowing through her hair, her shirt floating around her, her legs looking lovely and toned in her shorts. She took his breath away as she sat there, not a care in the world that her hair was being messed up by the boat ride.

She continued to surprise him. This woman—who was always so put together and flawless—was laughing with happy abandonment on their short ride to dinner.

Earlier he was staggered by the fact she loved his house. But the simplest and yet most significant thing of all, she only had one small bag of clothing with her. Another change of shorts and a shirt, similar to what she was wearing. Nothing else.

Linda always brought a suitcase full of things when she came, even if it was for one night. When she left the next day, he would find half of those clothes still in his drawers and closet. It drove him insane.

He shook his head. He said he was done making comparisons and he was. That was it. No more.

He glanced at Sophia again, the wide sunglasses covering her eyes, and the bright smile on her face. Pure enjoyment over a simple boat ride.

He remembered all about her childhood. Private schools, fancy vacations, elegant dinners. She was used to being around class and sophistication. She
was
class and sophistication. His log cabin on the lake was far from that.

But she didn’t seem to care. Kaitlin had commented once on how Sophia enjoyed her visits here in Saratoga. Time away from the hustle and bustle of bigger cities. Phil had never believed it, but he was wrong, it seemed. Why else would Sophia have moved here? He was positive she still would have gotten her partnership promotion soon if she’d stayed in Manhattan.

Yet she jumped at the opportunity to move to Saratoga. He’d like to think he had a part in it, but he wasn’t delusional. Sophia said she missed Kaitlin. In her eyes he might have been a bonus, if that.

Nearing the pub, he pulled the throttle back and expertly maneuvered the boat into an open dock slip. After tying off the lines and hopping out, he reached for Sophia.

Hand in hand they walked down the long dock and up the stairs to the pub. “Do you want to sit outside on the deck or inside?”

“Deck works for me,” she said cheerfully.

“Then the deck it is.”

When they were seated with drinks in their hands—beer for Phil, and even more surprising, one for Sophia—he said, “I would have never pictured you as a beer drinker.”

“I’ve been known to throw one back a time or two,” she said, a laugh escaping.

They had been sitting there snacking on nachos and chatting when suddenly she stiffened, then whispered, “Heads up.”

He turned his head quickly, and swore. “Phil,” Linda all but screeched, causing several people to look their way.

“Linda,” he said, biting back a sigh.

She leaned in and gave him a kiss on the cheek, then grabbed his hand. “You look great. Why haven’t you returned any of my calls? I thought after I saw you at the Chamber Dinner that we could start talking again.”

Phil looked at Sophia—her expression hadn’t changed—but he could see a slight questioning look in her eyes. “Linda, you misunderstood.”

“What?” Linda said, the high-pitched whine hurting his ears. “You told me it wasn’t the place to talk and I agreed. I thought that meant we could talk at a different time.”

“No, you thought wrong.” He yanked his hand away from hers. “We’ve been over this before. Multiple times. There is nothing else left to say. You need to move on.”

Her eyes shifted to Sophia—surprise, then awareness, finally turning them cold, the way he had seen them often in the last few years. “Oh, I get it. You’ve moved on with
her
.”

Maybe this would be the final straw for Linda to back off. The nail in the coffin, so to speak. “Yes, I have. And you need to move on, too. We’re done. We’ve been done and you know exactly why.”

“I told you why I did it,” she said, tears filling her eyes.

Another mood swing, more drama and he was over it. He cut her off. “We’re done with this conversation. Done with everything.” He was getting angry. The last thing he wanted was Sophia to be subjected to this. Or to find out any of the details of what happened between him and Linda. He didn’t need anyone to know what a fool he’d been.

Linda wiped her tears away and gave Sophia one more look of disdain and marched away.

“I’m sorry,” he said, exhausted over the scene.

“Not your fault,” she said simply.

“No, but it’s the second time you’ve witnessed a scene with her.”

“True. I’m sure you’ve been witness to much worse.” There was humor in her expression, and he was glad of it. Glad that she wasn’t upset over the whole episode. “
Has
she been calling you?”

And there it was. He would be honest though. He wouldn’t lie. “Yes, but like she said, I haven’t returned her calls.”

“I didn’t doubt it. I was curious.”

“You aren’t upset?”

“Over what? That she’s still trying to get back together with you? That is hardly your fault, is it?”

“No, I guess.”

She tilted her head with a serious expression crossing her lovely face. “You guess?”

He had to stop doubting himself. “No. It’s not my fault. I’m not sure what I can do to get through to her. Maybe seeing us together will finally get her to realize it.”

“I doubt it.” He didn’t miss the grim expression on her face. “Some people never let go.”

 

***

 

The next morning Sophia woke up bright and early, looked over and watched Phil sleeping next to her. Last night at the restaurant had been so uncomfortable.

That was the second time Linda had come out of nowhere. If Sophia didn’t know better, she would have thought Linda was following them.

Only that couldn’t be. Linda admitted that she showed up at the Chamber Dinner because she read about Phil and Alec getting the award. Then last night, after Linda stomped away, Sophia could see her join a table of friends inside. It had to be a coincidence.

Besides, if Linda was really following Phil, she would have known about Sophia. Linda had truly been surprised when she realized Phil and Sophia were together. Unless she was a great actress. No, Sophia hadn’t missed the hurt look in Linda’s eyes when she put the pieces together. Or when Phil confirmed the relationship.

For Phil’s part, he brushed it off as best he could and they enjoyed the rest of their dinner together. Afterward he had taken her on a leisurely ride around the lake. Later on, they had watched the sunset from his deck. Just the sound of the water hitting the dock, a few boats in the distance, and the birds.

Tranquil sounds.

Last night on the deck, he had been sweet and tender, and…loving, for lack of a better word. She never imagined doing the things she had with him so far. Not with anyone.

The sun had set and there was still some dusk in the sky, but it was growing darker by the minute. She was sipping a glass of wine, he another beer, just enjoying each other’s company.

She was still getting used to the quiet of his place and was actually pleased with it all. Her little house in the city was already levels calmer than her place in Manhattan. But here on the lake, it was another world. A world she realized she enjoyed.

He’d placed his empty bottle on the table and moved closer to her on the sectional on his deck. With his arm around her shoulder, her head on his chest, his hand started to move around her neck. Tracing the veins, making her shiver with anticipation.

Looking up at him, she smiled tenderly, and he lowered his head for a kiss. Just a small taste, he lingered there longer and then deepened it. Falling into the taste of him, drinking the flavor of his mouth, molding her body to his, she couldn’t get enough.

There was something about the way he looked at her. Something about the way he looked earlier tonight at the restaurant. Hurt, embarrassed and vulnerable. She wanted to take away any pain he had. Any pain he was trying so hard to hide from. Pain he was hiding from everyone, if she had her guess. Phil Harper wasn’t someone to let anyone know what was really going on in his brain.

She moved back and grabbed his hand and tried to pull him up, but he resisted. “Let’s go to your room,” she suggested.

He pulled his hand back. “No, let’s stay right here.”

Baffled, she thought maybe he wanted to relax more outside. So she sat back down, then snuggled against him. Only his hands started to wander and before she knew it they were up and under her shirt and tugging it over her head. “What are you doing?” she asked, shocked.

“Undressing you.”

“We’re outside,” she pointed out.

He chuckled. “So?”

“People might see us.”

“Hardly.”

She looked around. He was probably right; it was dark, and there was no one even close to his house. They were sheltered by trees, plus they were high enough above the water and far enough back on the deck and so close to the house that no one could see them unless they walked up to the deck themselves. Not likely to happen, least of all without the warning of an approaching boat.

Tentatively she settled back against him and allowed him to remove her bra. She reached over and pulled his shirt off and tossed it aside, then leaned down and undid his shorts. Maybe tonight she could have her turn.

Scooting down, she pulled his shorts off, looking her fill. He was magnificent in her eyes. So lean and fit. Such strength behind him, mixed with a tenderness she thought very few people witnessed, or at least experienced.

Trailing her finger down his chest, circling his hips, she grasped him in her hand, stroking up and down. Loving the sounds he made in his throat and loving the control she seemed to have over him at that moment.

Straddling his hips, she paved a path with her mouth across his chest, over his stomach, and farther down below. Her tongue came out to the tip. She wanted a taste of him. Then she wanted it all. Had to taste and feel all of him, every bit. He had given her so much each time they’d come together, been so selfless. She wanted to do the same for him.

Stroking him with her hand, tasting him with her mouth, she continued on. She heard his low groans in his throat, felt the vibration of them in his chest, and knew he was getting close. She’d never gone all the way before like this with a man. Never wanted to. But she wanted to with Phil. Very much so.

Only he stopped her. Yanking her up roughly. Covering her mouth with his and helping her out of her shorts until she was as naked as he was. Bringing his hand down between her legs, he stroked her with as much care as she had him.

On and on he went, until she thought she was going to burst. “Stop, Phil,” she said, panting out a few breaths.

“No, not yet. I want to feel you as you come. Relax and give in to it. Let me love you tonight.” Those words, voiced like that, made her feel loved. She was sure that wasn’t what he meant, but she heard it anyway, and let herself go.

When the last shudder left her body, he shifted her on her back, grabbed for his shorts and found a condom. Quickly putting it on, he slid over her body. Gliding seamlessly inside of her, going at a slow pace. Her body started to come alive again and started to hum on its own.

She was cresting. He was bringing her there, building her up and spinning her out. He moved his hand between them, touched her again, used every bit of technique he had earlier and brought her right to the very pinnacle of ecstasy, then removed his hand and increased his pace. “Let me feel you again, Sophia,” he whispered.

And he did. Just those words—always the words he said—they seemed to bring her to the end, her body arching into his, his thrusting into hers, together matching each other’s movements, held in time. The songs of the crickets and the water mixing in with the thumping of her heart. All coming together for one of the best experiences ever.

Lying back, breathing in the night air, listening to Phil’s ragged breathing in her ear—she had to lighten things up. Had to pull her heart back. It was slowly creeping over to the half she had been holding back. It was still too soon.

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