The Fall (Colorado Coyotes #6)

Chapter 15

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Rowan

It’s hell seeing Cam like this. Her smile is gone, replaced by a haunted, anxious expression that hits me like a punch in the gut every time I look at her.

“If it tastes as good as it smells, I may devour half the pan.” She gives me a half smile from the other end of her couch.

She’s wrapped up in a light-gray blanket, the pasta I had delivered to her baking in the oven.

“Hey, lemme have one of your feet,” I say.

She arches a brow. “Like forever? Are you planning to cut it up and eat it or masturbate to it?”

I grin. “There she is. That sense of humor can’t be kept down. It’ll be a temporary arrangement. Just a foot massage.”

She puts her back against the end of the couch and slides one foot out from beneath the blanket. I scoot down and set it on my lap, moving the bottom of her pant leg up a few inches.

“Ohh.” She lets out a vocal sigh of satisfaction as I start rubbing her arch. “I wore very tall booties to work today, so forgive the moaning sounds.”

Shit. I can already feel my cock stiffening just from having my hands on her bare skin. I grab a throw pillow, lift her leg slightly and set the pillow on my lap, lowering her foot onto it.

“Comfortable?” I ask her.

“Either way is comfortable.”

I’ll stick with the way that doesn’t give away my boner. Cam plus moaning does not equal a flaccid dick for me.

“Hopefully going back to prison is enough of a deterrent to keep him away from us,” she murmurs as I massage her arch.

It enrages me that this asshole who has already taken so much from Cam is getting out of prison early. He only stopped stalking her because Dom caught him. I hate to imagine where things could have ended up without Dom.

“I’ll find him and let him know he’s not gonna make it to prison if he messes with you again.”

She hums a soft response, smiling slightly. “Don’t get yourself into trouble. It’s not worth it.

“Don’t say that. You’re worth it.”

“I don’t want you going to prison, though. Who would massage my feet and keep me supplied with Sweet Tarts?”

I look down to the other end of the couch, catching her eye. And this time, I let my thoughts come out of my mouth.

“You’re a killer combination of sexy and cute, you know. I haven’t been able to think about any other woman in a long time.”

“You’re a pretty killer combination yourself. But I find different things sexy at twenty-nine than I did at twenty-one. I want the fairy tale...or nothing.”

I run my hand over her ankle and she closes her eyes, looking relaxed.

“Don’t you believe in falling in love?” I ask. “Instead of just deciding immediately that a man checks every one of your practical boxes and is, therefore, a satisfactory man to say you love?”

I slide her pant leg up further, gently massaging her calf. Her teeth sink into her lower lip for just a second before she responds.

“Despite everything, I do believe in falling in love,” she says softly. “But I’m not so sure you do.”

I turn my eyes away from hers. “Love is just a word. I think people should be judged on their actions.”

She opens her mouth to respond, stopped by the beeping of the timer on her oven. When she slides her foot from the pillow to the ground, I immediately miss the closeness of her.

“To be continued,” she says, smiling at me over her shoulder as she walks toward the kitchen.

“The foot massage or the conversation?”

“Both. I hope.”

I’m like a faithful dog, following her everywhere she goes. Content to just be in her presence. I like our friendship a lot. But I wouldn’t be so drawn to her for so long if we were only meant to be friends.

“Let me get that,” I offer when she opens the oven.

I use the oven mitts on the counter to grab the heavy aluminum pan of ravioli from the oven rack, setting it on top of the stove.

“I could have done a better job communicating with you at the end of our first date,” she says. “And after that. I’m sorry.”

I lean a hip on the counter, wanting to be closer to her even though only a few feet separate us.

“Will you let me start over?” I ask. “Can I take you on a second first date?”

She pours more wine into her nearly empty glass. “What do you want, Rowan? With me?”

I hesitate, my mind racing. My answer to this question is really fucking important. It’s going to determine whether or not she gives me another chance. I really want another chance. But I won’t lie to her.

“I think you and I could be important to each other. I want to be there for you and Sam and Tate.”

She sips from her glass, tucking hair behind one ear. “There’s a brick wall between us. You realize that, don’t you?”

I shake my head, aggravated. “Not at all. I feel like you think anything less than me dropping down to a knee on the first date and proposing is a no from you. Be fair, for fuck’s sake. I wouldn’t fuck around on you.”

She laughs. “Do you hear yourself? Imagine if I said yes to this, and someday you were introducing me to someone. Like, ‘This is Cam, she’s important to me and I don’t fuck around on her.’ Come on.”

“Jesus fuck.” I turn around, running a hand through my hair. Why are you so all or nothing? You want me to open a vein for you? Blow my fucking brains out over you like my dad did over my mom?”

I close my eyes and put my hands on the counter, leaning on it. I can’t believe I just said that. It wasn’t something I even thought about beforehand; it just came out. I think Cam is just as shocked as I am.

“I’m sorry,” she says softly.

I hang my head, taking a few deep breaths before I turn to face her. I should say something. Her eyes are swimming with emotions, glassy with unshed tears.

Part of me wants to get the fuck out of here. To escape. To go anywhere but here, where the one person who now knows my deepest fear is looking right at me--through me. She can see all of it now: the good, the bad and the shameful ugly.

But when she steps closer to me, I can’t make my feet move in the opposite direction. She quickly closes the gap that separates us, wrapping her arms around my waist and pressing herself against me, her cheek against my chest.

I hold on to her, my cheek on top of her head as a few tears fall into her hair. The deaths of my parents had a profound effect on me, but until a few seconds ago, I truly never made the connection. Losing them is why I’m afraid of commitment. The realization is staggering.

Cam lifts her head, forcing me to lift mine. She looks up at me and reaches a thumb up, swiping the wetness from my cheeks. Then she stretches up and brings her lips to mine.

She kisses me tentatively for a second, testing me. I cup her face and deepen the kiss, my heart beating rapid-fire as I back her up to the counter. My mouth lays claim to hers, unable to kiss her tenderly.

I bend slightly and lift her onto it. She wraps her legs around my waist and puts her arms around my neck, her nails grazing over my scalp as she runs her fingers through my hair.

Fuck, it feels amazing. Her touch, her smell, her taste. I can’t get enough.

I move my mouth to her jawline, her exhale hot on my skin as I kiss her there. She pulls up my shirt, her nails gently raking over my back and setting me on fire. I put my forearms beneath her knees, pulling her body against mine so she feels my cock against her slit.

She gasps, her nails sinking deeper into my back.

“I want you.” She says it in my ear, her tone low and desperate. “I want you right now.”

My cock aches at the sound of her words. I haven’t had sex in a long time, and I’ve fantasized about hearing those words from her countless times. This frenzied, spur-of-the-moment chance to take her to bed might be the only chance I get.

I scoop her from the counter with one arm beneath her ass, remembering where her bedroom is from when I helped her move. Once there, I put a knee on the bed, Cam still wrapped around me.

She slowly lets go of my neck, her eyes wide and pooled with lust as she looks up at me. When she grabs the bottom of her shirt and wiggles her way out of it, pulling it off and over her head, I’m the one who gasps.

“Holy shit, you’re beautiful.”

In the dim evening light, with her honey-brown hair spread over the pillow, her breasts rising and falling in the silky black cups of her bra, she’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. Perfect.

Too good for me. It hurts like a physical blow. I’m a fucked-up mess over my parents’ deaths, even after more than a decade. She said she wants a fairy tale, and I’m the opposite.

“We can’t.” I practically jump off the bed, knowing I’ll change my mind if I don’t get out of here right now.

“We can.” She gets into a sitting position. “I know this won’t be a promise of anything else. It’s what we both need right now and nothing more.”

I want to go along with it. My cock is still throbbing with need for her. But that’s not the man I want to be. Fucked up emotionally or not, I’m still decent enough to put what’s best for her ahead of my raging desire for her.

“You deserve more, though. And I can’t do this until...I mean, I won’t ...” I sigh heavily. “I’m sorry, but I have to go, or I won’t be able to...I have to go.”

I can’t think straight while looking at her in that sexy bra, her lips swollen from our frantic kissing.

She grabs her shirt as I turn to leave the room. “You don’t have to go. Please don’t. You don’t even have a car here.”

“It’s okay. I’ll walk.”

She jogs to catch up with me, putting a hand on my shoulder. “At least let me drive you home. Please.”

I grab my coat from a chair, my laugh unamused. “I don’t trust myself not to ask you to pull over so I can fuck you in the back seat.”

Her jaw drops slightly. “I wouldn’t say no to that.”

“Exactly.” I head for the front door.

“Stop, Rowan. It’s freezing.”

“I’ll get a ride. I’m sorry about all this.”

“You don’t need to be.”

I can’t even look at her. My evening of spying on her coffee date to make sure Harrison didn’t lie his way into her pants has taken a dramatic turn.

Turning the dead bolt, I unlock the front door and leave, the frigid winter air hitting me square in the face. I slide into my coat, pulling the collar up to cover my neck and part of my face.

I’d normally call Dom for a ride, but not this time. If he finds out I was at Cam’s house, he might try to run me over instead of giving me a ride.

Instead, I text my location to the only teammate I know will pick me up and take me home with no questions asked: Sergei.