The Running Series Complete Collection: 3-Book Set plus Bonus Novella (113 page)

I release a soft, “Mmm,” into his mouth as I glide my hands from his backside up into his thick, chestnut hair, twisting and tugging.

It’s like this every time.  We can’t get enough of each other.  Finally, it’s Evan who breaks us apart and places me back on the ground.  “Any more of that and I’ll miss my flight.” He turns and picks up his bag before heading out the door.  As he walks down the driveway toward his Porsche, he adjusts his pants, which seem to fit a lot more snugly in the crotch all of a sudden.  I watch, knowing I did that to him, that is the effect I have on him, and it’s a heady feeling.  As he opens the car door, he turns and calls back, “I love you, Juliette.  I’ll call you as soon as we land.”  And I know he will.

I
arrive a little early for work to find the restaurant busy.  During the off-season, we make nearly all our money on the weekends.  Thanks to the start of the fall semester at Monmouth University, we can still pay our bills.

Reese has been busy adjusting the menu to include food that appeals to a younger crowd.  Derek’s also been working hard to make a special menu of virgin drinks our eighteen- to twenty–year-olds can have while sitting at the bar.  It’s been a struggle, but so far I’ve only had to dip into our reserves once.

I head into the kitchen to check on my new pastry chef, Jeremiah.  He’s just finished training with Natalie and we both have complete confidence in him.

I love baking, but I can’t do my job as owner if I’m locked up in the kitchen all night.  It’s become clear to me that I’m happiest when I’m on the floor, serving the customers and pitching in wherever and whenever I’m needed.  It’s an added expense to pay for an additional experienced pastry chef, but one that will hopefully make our business stronger.

Derek is working alone right now while Emmy’s on a break, so I jump back behind the bar to help.  There’s a small group of women gathered at the end of the bar, and I immediately recognize them as members of Emmy’s Roller Derby team.  Their glasses are empty and Derek hasn’t yet noticed.  As they wait patiently, one girl in particular seems to have her eyes trained on every move Derek makes.

“Hey, isn’t that Emmy’s friend Kate sitting down there?”  Derek
humphs
his agreement, so I continue.  “I think she likes you.  Why don’t you go talk to her?”

“Not interested,” he mutters without even a glance.

“Seriously?  She’s cute, Derek.  Why don’t you just go over there and talk to her?” I press while making an Appletini for my customer.

He rolls his eyes before adding, “If you think she’s so cute, why don’t you go talk to her?”

“Okay, well if she’s not your type, what about Nikki?  I don’t think she’s dating anyone.  It wouldn’t be hard for you to get a phone number from either one of them, you know.”

“Why are you so anxious to get me laid, Jette?”  He walks over to me and whispers in my ear, “As long as I’m single, am I too much temptation for you to handle?”

With a smirk, I take the drink to my customer and watch as Derek refills Nikki and Kate’s glasses.  I eavesdrop a little on his conversation and I hear the girls asking him if he’s dating anyone.

“I am,” he lies.  “Nothing too serious, but I want to see where it goes.”  Wow, he’s a good liar.  He didn’t give them any information that could trip him up later and he successfully makes himself appear to be a stand-up kind of guy.  Impressive.

He brings their dirty glasses to the sink and I can’t help but ask, “So Derek, are you currently dating your right hand or your left hand?  I want to know which one I should stay away from.”

Derek snaps a wet bar towel at my ass and snidely remarks, “Not telling.  It’s more fun to have you thinking about it and trying to guess.”

Reese slips out of the kitchen to get something to drink, and immediately the teasing stops.  Derek doesn’t like to flirt in front of her.  I think he wants to leave the door open for her to return, hoping she’ll change her mind.  She won’t.  She has her reasons and her mind is made up.  Nothing has changed.

When she leaves, I can’t help but comment,  “I think being Reese’s on-call fuck buddy is messing with your mind.  You need to have unattached, meaningless sex with someone other than Reese Barrett.  Why don’t you go pick out one of those girls and rock her world?”

“Whose world is Derek rocking?” Emmy asks as she joins us back behind the bar.

“No one, Emmy.  Ignore Jette.  She doesn’t know what she’s talking about,” Derek calls over his shoulder as he finishes pouring a few beers.

“I know exactly what I’m talking about.  And for the record, Emmy, I was telling Derek he should pick up one of your teammates sitting there at the end of the bar.  What do you know about Nikki and Kate?”

“Oh my God, Derek, you should totally hook up with one of my girls.  Nikki’s got an amazing body, but her boobs are even smaller than mine.  Kate’s got a great rack and the nicest ass I’ve ever seen.  What are you into?” she asks.

I listen in shock.  “Emmy, when I asked you about your friends, I was thinking you’d tell us about their jobs or their families.  I should have known better.”

“Damn right you should have known better.  Who cares where they work?  You have to be attracted to someone before you’re interested enough to even ask.  Don’t you know anything, Jette?” She laughs me.  “Well Derek?  Who’s it going to be?”

“I think I’ll pass, Emmy.  But thanks for offering up one of your girls.  I’ll keep it in mind,” Derek snickers as he gets back to pouring drafts.  Derek turns to me and asks, “Hey boss – can you cover while I take a short break?  I just need five.”

I quickly agree and off Derek ambles to the back.  I think he just needs some fresh air.  I put some pressure on him and he didn’t like it.

The waitresses are a little busy, and Emmy knows beer is best served cold, so she helps out by delivering the beers Derek just poured to a table of young men.  Emmy looks cute in her skinny jeans and low-cut T-shirt with our logo painted across her chest, drawing attention to her cleavage.  I keep a close eye on her as she approaches the table.

As Emmy hands one guy his drink, he takes her wrist in his hand and pulls her close to him, so she’s only inches from his face.  I can see Emmy’s face redden as she struggles to pull her wrist free of his grip while his friends watch and laugh. 

I immediately leave my post behind the bar and head straight toward Emmy.  I can hear her politely asking the customer to let go of her. 

“But I think I love you,” he tells her.  “Just one kiss and I’ll die a happy man,” he says, still holding tight.

I grab hold of the guy’s arm and dig my nails into his flesh while I warn him through gritted teeth, “Let go of her, asshole, before I remove the flesh from your arm and then move on to your balls.”

In a flash, Emmy’s teammates are at her side.  “It’s okay, Jette, we’ve got this,” one of the girls confidently tells me.  Kate puts herself between Emmy and the asshole as the other girls circle around him.  He releases Emmy, and now he’s surrounded by five tough-as-nails chicks.  Six, if you count me.

“Here, let me get your chair,” Nikki offers.  She jerks back his chair with him still in it, and he has no choice but to stand.

“Time for you to leave, douchebag,” insists another girl, whose name I don’t know.  Without much fuss or delay, the team very efficiently escorts the small group of men right out the door.

Marcus just stands there watching with his mouth open in both shock and awe, then follows the group back to the bar.  “So, ladies, I think you’ve earned yourselves a round of shots,” he suggests.  “What will it be?”

Emmy immediately decides for the group. “Adios Motherfuckers for everyone!” she decrees.

I
t’s Saturday night and I don’t get home until close to one.  We’ve been back in our house for only a few days now, and it feels so good to finally be home.  I dutifully walk around the house as instructed, setting alarms and checking phones.  Maddy is close behind me as I roam around, room by room. 

It has been a busy day and I need a shower to wash the grime from my hair and skin.  I set the jets to pulse and let the pounding water massage my muscles.  I’m in Heaven as I stand in the shower, motionless, allowing the punishing force of hot water to remove all traces of a long day at work.

I slip from the shower feeling revitalized, my skin zinging and my mind clear.  Hanging on the door is my favorite plush bathrobe, soft as silk, comfortable and cozy.  I wrap it around myself, pick up my work clothes, and pour myself a nightcap, ready to turn in for the night.

Evan and I are in the same time zone tonight, which makes me feel guilty for calling him at such a late hour.  For the last few away games, he was on the West Coast, which made it several hours earlier for him.  I send him a quick text to let him know I’m home and in for the night.  He sends back a simple,
luv u
, and I click off the phone.

I set the phone on the bedside table and grab my Kindle. The room is dark save for the little cone of light glowing from my device, illuminating the impassioned prose of Nicholas Sparks. Every few minutes I pick up the glass on the table, take a deep whiff of the burnished, potent, amber liqueur within and then let a teaspoonful or so trickle down my throat, savoring the little glow it spreads throughout my body. Everything I worry about – managing a new business, being separated from my fiancé, and planning my dream wedding – is outside that bright little cone. 

It’s easy to get lost in the fictional world Sparks paints so vividly.  As the new lovers Miles and Sarah share their first kiss, I’m reminded of how much I miss Evan.  The bed is too large and empty without him.  I’m no closer to sleep than I was an hour ago, and now I’m wishing Evan was here beside me.

I turn off the Kindle, take the last sip of maple whiskey, and climb beneath the sheets.  I close my eyes, and there he is.  I can hear his voice and feel his lips.  He is everywhere I look.  I grab his pillow, wrapping my arms around it and holding it close to my body.  I inhale deeply and his clean, masculine scent invades my senses, awakening my burgeoning desire to be near him.

Whether it’s the effects of the alcohol, my thoroughly romantic musings, or the soft, delicate touch of the plush terrycloth against my clean, naked skin, I cannot deny the carnal urges sweeping through my body.  Throwing judgment out the window, I grab my phone to call him, the need to hear his voice too strong to ignore.

The phone rings several times, and I am about to hang up when he answers.  “Hello?” he says, his voice sounding cracked and rough. I know I must have awakened him from a good sleep.

“Hey baby,” I say softly.

He doesn’t say anything for a moment, then I hear him clear his throat and say, “Hey, you. What time is it? Is everything all right?”

“Everything is fine. I just wanted to hear your voice.”  I hesitate before going on. “I think you’ve ruined me, Chief.  I can't sleep without you.”  In a whisper I add, “Don’t be mad.”

“I could never be mad at you for missing me,” he tells me.  “I miss you every minute we’re apart.  When I close my eyes, I’m somewhere with you.  Holding you, kissing you, loving you.”

As I listen to his deep, husky voice, I feel a deep longing and thirst for him that cannot be quenched.  I can actually feel my breasts growing heavy and firm, forming tight peaks that graze the soft fabric of the robe.  Instinctively I reach up to adjust the fabric, and as I do I feel a tightening in my core the moment my hand touches my sensitive skin.  I gasp with surprise.

“What happened?  Are you okay?” Evan asks.  I can hear him rustling around in his bed and I imagine him lying there naked with a tiny piece of fabric barely covering him.  I picture his beautifully chiseled muscles tracing a path down his glorious chest, leading me directly to the sexy V-cut of his trim waist. 

My breasts ache for his touch, so I try to relieve the building pressure by pinching and rolling my nipples between my fingers, imagining Evan’s mouth on me.  “Mm-hmm,” I hum, enjoying my fantasy. 

I hear his quick intake of breath and wonder for a moment how closely the images in his head mingle with mine.  "So tell me, Juliette.  If I was home, what would we be doing right now?” he asks devilishly.