Crushed (Crystal Brook Billionaires) (31 page)

I slowly shook my head. “Why are you leaving?” I bit my tongue. “I guess I don’t have to ask that. It’s because of me.”

Owen cleared his throat keeping his eyes averted from me. “How are you?”

“Okay. Owen, please look at me.”

His face turned up, his eyes roving across my own. The intensity in them nearly knocked me backwards.

“Gwen looks beautiful,” he said. “And so happy.”

“Yeah,” I barely murmured.

“And not hung over at all.”

I couldn’t even work up a slight smile. “No.”

His lips twisted and he gazed past me, back at the house where so many happy people were gathered.

“I’m sorry,” I breathlessly said.

His gaze latched onto mine. “You don’t have to say that anymore, Claire. I understand. This whole thing… what’s been between us. It’s my own fault. I knew what was happening in your life, and I couldn’t just let things be.”

“No,” I quickly answered. “It’s my fault too. I pushed you away.”

“You needed to.”

“No, I didn’t.”

He looked at me, exasperated. Tired. Done. I could see it all in his face. The emotional ups and downs of knowing me had been more than he could handle.

I licked my dry lips. “You’re going to California, aren’t you?”

His cheeks puffed up as he exhaled. “I don’t know.”

“But you’re done with me.”

He looked at me sadly. “Shouldn’t I be?” He let out a dry quick laugh. “I mean, I know I should be. I should have been months ago. But I just…” He shook his head.

“I love you,” I gasped out, somehow not even able to find the amount of breath needed to speak properly.

He looked at me. Just looked at me, his face betraying nothing.

So I repeated it. “I love you.”

Owen blinked rapidly. “Why are you telling me now? Why didn’t you say it last night?”

“Because I wouldn’t let myself feel it.”

His jaw worked, and his eyes grew red. “Claire, you might be better off without me.”

“Don’t say that.” I took a step towards him, reached my hand out, but didn’t touch him.

He ran his hand over his mouth. “I wish I’d done better by you. I really do.”

I spread my hands out wide. “Owen, did you not just hear me? I said I love you! Do you not believe me?”

His shoulders still sagged. The corners of his mouth still drooped. “What changed?”

I slowly shook my head. “I don’t know that anything changed, except… I dreamed and woke up. I started seeing things as they really are.”

“And it started just today?”

“No,” I fiercely said. “I don’t know when it started, but it’s been happening for a while. I just didn’t allow myself to face it until today.” This time, I did touch him. I took a few more steps forward and pressed my fingertips against his chest.

Owen’s torso rose with a shaking breath. His hand came up to clasp mine and press it tighter against his suit.

“Do you believe me?” I asked.

He looked into my eyes. “There’s so much that’s been happening that’s been hard to believe. The first moment I saw you, Claire, I knew we were meant to be together. I couldn’t shake that feeling. Before long, I came to hate it. I hated the voice inside of me that told me things were supposed to be opposite of how they really were.”

His grip loosened on mine, letting my hand slip from his fingers.

My whole body trembled. “I felt the same way,” I whispered. “I was so sure Peter and I were meant to be together. And then when he died… everything was turned upside down. Nothing made sense. I couldn’t trust anything I thought or felt.”

His lips drew into a tight line. “So you know how I feel.”

I slowly nodded. “Yes. But Owen, there’s more. Maybe — maybe we were both right! I had my time with Peter.” Tears pricked my eyes, sliding down my cheeks. But this time, they weren’t tears of pain. They were tears of joy. I’d seen so much. Felt so much. When I took enough steps back and looked at my whole life, it was clear the only thing to do in the end was celebrate.

I went on, unable to stop now that I’d begun. “And now it’s our time. You weren’t wrong, Owen. You and I are meant to be together, right now.”

He still gazed at me sadly. “Claire, today I walked here thinking that this would be the end.” He paused. “Even though I didn’t want it to be. But I knew I couldn’t put myself through any more pain. I knew I couldn’t put you through anymore, either.”

I nodded ferociously, a fresh tear slipping down my cheek. Owen reached up and brushed it away.

“Claire,” he softly said. “You don’t have to make any promises to me that you can’t fulfill.”

“I promise you that I’m telling the truth when I say I love you,” I said, my voice fierce with its need for him to believe me. “Beyond that, I don’t know shit.”

He smirked. “You do something to me I can’t explain.”

“Try.”

He shook his head, wrapped his arm around my waist to pull me closer. “I’ll never be able to.”

“Try.”

“I can only try to show you.”

His other hand came to cup my chin and lift it up towards his. Feather light, his lips grazed mine. Tremors traveled down my body, making me shake against his chest. He pressed his mouth against mine again, the heat of the touch sinking into my pores.

And as he kissed me, I heard Peter’s words echoing in my head, going around and around. Words I would hear for the rest of eternity.

Stay with it.

For light is in all things…

Claire

January…

“I
t’s snowing!” Becca shrieked.

“Really?” I set down the stack of books on the floor and ran across the shop. Sure enough, thick flakes wafted down from the sky, sticking to the cars’ hoods.

“How long till we can close?” she asked, nearly bouncing on the balls of her feet.

I shrugged. “I don’t know. What’s protocol?”

“Gwen usually closes up when it looks like driving is going to be dangerous.”

I watch the snow blow across the road. “Sounds good to me. I’ll text her and check.”

The few customers hanging out got up from the couch and hurried to the window to watch the snow fall with Becca.

“It’s about time,” the silver-haired woman commented. “January second. I can’t remember the last time we went this long without snow.”

I pulled my phone from my back pocket, only to discover Gwen had already texted.

It’s snowing!

I smiled and typed back.
I see. Keep shop open?

I slipped the phone back in my pocket and turned to go back to stocking. Gwen had taken my suggestion to completely re-do the children’s section, and I’d been busy all afternoon setting up the toy basket and art easel. On a whim, I’d suggested to her that we might get more day customers if we had a nice little play area for small children. Freddy’s was a very narrow shop, but if we combined the area with the children’s books, we could likely do it.

As I bent down to grab the stack of books, my phone buzzed.

Close in an hour,
Gwen texted.

Sounds good,
I typed back.

I didn’t put the phone back. Instead, I waited to see if she would respond right away.

She did.
Then you and Owen come over for gumbo.

I smirked and typed a quick response.
We might get snowed in at your house.

Don’t worry,
she wrote.
I have alcohol. You’ll be all right.

“You know me too well,” I whispered to the phone before putting it away. If the shop was to be closed by four, I needed to get a start on cleaning up.

Becca skirted around the edge of the bar before slipping behind it.

“Closing in an hour,” I told her.

She whooped. “I’ll wrap up all the muffins.”

As fast as I could, I put the rest of the books away so I could move on to sweeping the book area. I checked each tiny aisle, seeing if any books had been left on chairs or floors and re-shelving them if they had.

At the poetry section, I stopped, hovering with my hand against one of the shelves. There it was. Peter’s book. Three copies of it, in their own little section. We’d already sold six of them. Sometimes I liked to think about where they might be. Perhaps they traveled around in purses or glove compartments. Perhaps someone had left a copy somewhere, at a mechanic’s or a friend’s house. And maybe some random person had picked it up, had thumbed through the pages just to see what it was all about.

And maybe they’d been affected by the words much like I had. Maybe they’d experienced a sliver of Peter’s touch.

“Goodnight,” I whispered to the books before turning and heading back to the coffee bar.

The front bell jingled, and a guy in a black peacoat walked in, shaking the snow from his messy brown hair. I rested my hip against the counter and watched as he approached me, a sly smile on his face.

“Hello, miss,” he said. “I was wondering if you might know where I can find a sled. The weather forecast says we’ll be getting a foot of snow, and I want to be ready for it.”

I pretended to think about it. “Hm. Well, there’s a nice wooden one at my sister’s house. I guess you could come over there with me. She’s making gumbo and swears she has some liquor left over from the other night.”

He sidled up to me. “That does sound nice.”

“The only problem is, I was thinking of inviting my boyfriend. So you’ll have to fight him for the sled.”

One dimple appeared, then the other. “I can handle that. I’ve seen that guy around. He doesn’t look like he could take a punch at all.”

I laughed. “Seriously, Owen. Do you want to go to Gwen’s? We might get snowed in there.”

He wrapped his arm around me. “And seriously, Claire, if she has a sled then I want to go. All we have at home is a trash can cover.”

“I would be ashamed to be seen with my butt on that.”

“Then let’s go.”

I turned him around. “I’ll make you a latte, and then you can wait for me while I clean up.”

Becca and I worked like speed demons. By three fifty-five, the whole shop sparkled. A blanket of white covered the ground, hiding the sidewalk beneath it. Still, the snow came down, twirling and throwing itself against the few pedestrians still outside.

The last customer left, and I grabbed the shop’s keys.

“Bye.” Becca waved to me and Owen as she wrapped her scarf around her face and hurried out.

“See you,” I told her.

I hit most of the lights, leaving only the one above the bar on. “Ready?” I asked the man I love and reached for the door. He pulled me back, turning me until my back was against the wall, his mouth finding my neck.

I sank into his touch, my head falling to the side, giving him all the room he needed.

“I want you,” he said, pulling up my wool skirt, his fingers at the waistband of my leggings.

Everything inside me clenched as I looked around. “Here? Now?”

My leggings and panties were down to mid-thigh.

“Here. Now.”

I started to object, then his fingers were deep inside me, his other hand over my mouth to muffle the loud moan.

“You’re so wet for me, aren’t you?”

I nodded and ran my tongue across his palm. He growled and wrestled his pants open, the hiss of his zipper filling the room. “This will be hard and fast,” he said, moving closer until his cock was pushing between my folds.

As he thrust into me, his mouth captured my cry, his hand coming up to circle my throat. I arched into him, spreading my legs as far as the tights would let me.

“So hot, so good,” he said against my lips as he pounded me into the wall. He shifted his angle, his thick cock rubbing my front walls and I came, exploding all around him.

“That’s my girl.”

He chuckled, that low, sensual sound that I loved so much. Still, he didn’t stop, didn’t give me time to rest. Instead, each thrust became deeper and more powerful. Beside me, the doorknob rattled and I jumped, nearly yelping in surprise.

“Sshhh,” Owen said, thrusting harder. “It’s locked. They’ll go away.”

Nearly getting caught didn’t lessen my desire, but seemed to fuel it. “Harder,” I said to him, my hand on his ass.

His eyes dilated farther and I was rammed into the wall with each stroke, and bliss began to build once again. “Make me come,” I begged, whispering the words into his mouth.

He shifted the angle, lifting me onto my toes with each thrust.

“Touch yourself,” he ordered and I did, sliding my hand between our bodies to find my clit. Two thrusts later and I came, crying his name against his lips. I was still vibrating through my orgasm when I felt him jerk against me, felt the hot liquid of his cum release into me, his cock pulsing as it emptied.

“God, I love not wearing condoms,” he said, panting against my ear as we rested against each other, trying to catch our breaths.

He pulled out and then laughed as I waddled to the bathroom, my tights still mid-thigh. I loved skin on skin too. The aftermath, not so much.

Soon I was back and he was waiting for me, love shining in his eyes.

“Let’s go.”

We ambled out onto the sidewalk, and I locked the door behind us. Owen took my hand, and we walked into the winter wonderland my small town was becoming. The snow crunched under our feet, and its flakes felt deliciously refreshing on my cheeks, despite it having been cold for months already.

“How’s it going at work?” Owen asked.

I gave it some thought. “Really good,” I decided. “Overall.”

“Yeah?”

“It’s definitely crazier than I thought it would be.” I shook my head. “Man, people…”

“Staff or customers?”

“Both.”

He laughed.

I squeezed his hand. “But I love it. I love being here.”

His eyes sparkled, even as white flakes clung to his eyelashes. “I love you being here… with me, of course.”

I laughed, but halfway through the giggle slipped on a patch of ice. Owen caught me, righted me, and we continued on a bit more carefully than before, still taking our time. Despite the bitter cold, neither of us wanted our moment of solitude to be over.

Gwen and Jason’s house glowed in a way it hadn’t until a couple months before. Maybe it was seeing them get married in its back yard. Or maybe it was the steadier presence of Jason since Thanksgiving and the successful early handing over of his company. Either way, the place was alive with warmth and love. I could feel it a block away.