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“I have no idea what that was,” Sally replied, sadness in her tone. “It’s obvious he needs to talk to someone. I just wish it hadn’t been at group dinner.”
Pink tinged Sally’s neck and cheeks, telling Sly that Sally was more affected by what her brother had said than she let on.
But what did that mean? What did any of it mean?
Don’t act like you don’t have shit that needs to be said.Of course, he did—his life was a shit sundae with a side of deep-fried guilt.
Across the table, Maeve stood and pressed her lips together before offering to help clear the table and wash the dishes. Blaze helped her remove the dishes while Anna stood, smacked a quick kiss against Sally’s cheek, and shoved Blaze from the kitchen in a not-so-subtle attempt to get Maeve alone. Apparently, Sly wasn’t the only one who’d noticed something was up with Maeve and AJ.
An hour later, their goodbyes said, plans for later next week made, Sly escorted Sally to his car, his hand at the small of her back, his mind on the conversation and strange confrontation at dinner. As he maneuvered the car from the parking lot and into the streets, the silence in the car filled his mind. He knew that whatever had happened had shaken Sally; she’d spent the rest of the night uncharacteristically silent and withdrawn. And he hated that. He wanted to make it better. To be the one she shared her trouble with so he could just…fix it. For once in his life, he wanted to be the one to pull the drowning from the ocean and give them breath.
Unfortunately, when Sally finally opened her mouth to speak, he despised the words that came out.
“I know we’ve done the whole ‘woman’ and ‘man’ thing in the heat of the moment, but don’t for a moment think that it locks you into anything you aren’t ready for. We can go back to just fucking it you want.”
He jerked the wheel, nearly plowing into a street lamp before he got the car back under his control. He grit his teeth and gripped the wheel, his hands turning white. “What the hell are you talking about, Sally?”
“I’m talking about how you are barely divorced, back out on the market, free as a bird. You shouldn’t lock yourself down with the first woman you slept with after the ink was dry on your divorce papers.”
“That isn’t what this is, Sallina, and you damn well know it.” It took everything in him to not slam on the brakes and pull over, keeping her trapped in the car with him until she was thinking right again.
“I don’t know anything,” she ground out, turning to look out the car window at the dark, quiet streets as they passed. “All I know is that we had sex, you ran, we hooked up again, and now we’re enjoying each other’s company without the entanglements of commitment.”
“Fuck that! Give me all the entanglements. Tangle me up, baby. I want to be tied to you so tight, no one can figure out where you end and I begin. Did you forget the part when I demanded exclusivity? One woman for me, one man for you. I’m in this deep, woman, and I’m not going anywhere. Get that through your beautiful head, baby, please, because I’m tired of fighting you for you.”
“You want my entanglements, my baggage? Do you want to be tied to me? Well, I’ve got enough tangled up bagged to drag you to the bottom of the Gulf.”
Drowning again…on purpose. Anything for Sallina.
The remainder of the ride to his place was heavy with a silence that wasn’t silence, quiet but loud and angry at the same time. When they pulled into his garage, Sally couldn’t get out of the car fast enough. They’d spent a couple of nights at his place, in his bed, but Sally always seemed uncomfortable, like she was just waiting for him to kick her out. She even refused to leave a fucking toothbrush in his bathroom. Now, Sly couldn’t help but wonder if her reluctance to get comfortable in his home and her comment in the car were related.
Sally entered the house through the side door and dropped her purse on the kitchen counter on her way through to the living room overlooking the back patio on the beach.
She plopped down onto the couch and braced her elbows on her knees, apparently waiting for him to come to sit beside her.
So, he did.
Grabbing her face in his hands, held her still while he pressed his lips against hers. She sat stiffly, keeping her lips closed, hard. But he waited her out, knowing she would eventually melt against him as she always would, and then he would show her that he meant every word. When she finally loosened her muscles, her mouth softening beneath the slow, sensual onslaught of his, he swept in, his tongue sliding over hers, coaxing hers, pouring every ounce of his devotion to her into his movements. Deepening then pulling back, dancing, teasing, nipping her bottom lip just to lave it with his hot tongue. Her breasts crushed against him as he dropped his hands from her face to wrap his arms around her, pulling her into him, holding her to him. She moaned, and he swallowed it, wanting to own every delicious sound her delectable body made.
But he couldn’t do what his body was screaming for him to do because he needed her to understand, to see that he meant what he said. That he wanted to be there for her, to be everything to her. To be her everything as much as she was his.
Softening the kiss, he pulled away, closing his eyes as he touched his forehead to hers, sucking air into his burning lungs.
“I would drown for you, Sallina…” he panted, his breathing ragged. “But you have to give me something to fight for, too.”
Silence greeted his admission, but he waited, knowing this was a moment, a choice Sally needed to make for them to move forward. To entangle, weave, tie, bind their lives together.
He opened his eyes and drew back, taking her hands in his and squeezing, giving her a sign that he was there, he was willing to wait as long as it took…and he cared. So fucking much.
Sally heaved a sigh, her long lashes fluttering against her cheeks, and she slowly opened her eyes and met his gaze.
“My mother committed suicide…and I could have stopped her.”
