Mia Found (Starting Fires Book 3) (27 page)

Paul sighed. “Just the wedding. No reception.”

“
Whatever you want,” I said, kissing his jaw.

“
It’s not fair,” Paul said, chuckling.

“
What isn’t?”

“
How easily you get me to do what you want.”

“
Oh, please,” I said playfully and stood, smoothing out my dress. “If that was true, you’d tell Florida to screw themselves.”

I’d said it jokingly, but Paul’s mood deflated. “I…” he started.

I held up a hand. “Stop. That was rude of me to say. It just…came out. I know you can’t. Not yet anyway.”

“
If you want me to, I’ll try.”

Looking down at him, I put my hands on my hips. “Do you want this job?”

Paul hesitated.

“
Take me out of the picture,” I said. “If I wasn’t here, would you want it? Is it right for you?”

“
I think so. I’ve wanted to leave for a while, but that was before I had you.”

“
Is this a better job?” Paul nodded. “A more fulfilling job?” Paul nodded. “Then I want you to have it. You’d do the same for me. Even if it was in, I don’t know, Timbuktu or someplace.”

Paul chuckled. “I love you, Mia.”

Taken aback by his confession, I blushed, and then fiddled with my hair. He’d said it so naturally. Without hesitation. “I–I love you, too.”

Smiling, he stood. “Let’s get going.”

Paul dragged his feet, taking much longer than he needed to, but when he walked down the stairs of his townhouse, my breath left me. It wasn’t like I’d never seen him in a suit, and he dressed well on a daily basis, but there was something about this suit in particular.

It was navy and fitting his frame to perfection. He was wearing a plain white shirt underneath his jacket, but the collar was open, exposing the deep crevice of his neck. He was distracted, fiddling with a sleeve, unaware that I was mesmerized by him. As soon as his feet hit the bottom landing, I stepped into him and gave him a firm, passionate kiss.

All of it was crashing down on me. The way he looked. The way he moved. The way he thought and spoke. Paul loved me. The warmth of that love coursed through me and I knew it with all my heart.

All of the decorations in the church were stunning. The late afternoon sun bled through the stained glass windows, casting filtered light onto the flowers and people.

Paul’s mother practically cried when she saw him walk in the door. It became obvious why he hadn’t wanted to come. All of his cousins, aunts, and uncles approached him with rueful eyes. Some of them even saying things like, “It was so big of you to come.” Or, “Just put all of it behind you.” Paul accepted their “wisdom” in stride, even managing to politely smile.

We took our seats on his brother’s side, and I made sure to wrap my arm around his, squeezing in as close as I could get. He needed to know I was here for him. Not because of how hard this was, but because of the immense awkwardness. I hadn’t predicted that. It was easy to forget he’d seen heartache and pain not long ago. Slowly, so I could take my time caressing it, I threaded my hand with his. He smiled down at me and then leaned in to place a kiss to my forehead.

I was relishing its love, when I noticed Rick. He was standing at the front of the church watching us. I didn’t like the look in his eyes. Was that anger? Resentment?

My eyes narrowed, but then I smiled brightly, turning my attention back to Paul. I hoped Rick was still watching. I wanted him to see how happy his brother was. My hand went to his jaw and I turned his face towards mine. As close as I could get without actually kissing him, I whispered, “Did I tell you how incredibly handsome you look?”

“
Did I tell you how absolutely gorgeous you are?” he smiled.

“
Uh-uh. I said it first. Doesn’t count,” I said, rubbing my nose against his.

Paul made an amused sound, kissing me softly.

When I turned back to Rick, he was looking at anything
but
us, and I smiled to myself.
Take that, jerk.

Through the wedding, I couldn’t take my eyes off the best man. Paul had called him Lewis. He shook Rick’s hand and whispered brotherly words of encouragement into his ear. He’d smile at him. Joke with him. How far had he and Marjorie already gone together? My intrusion last night couldn’t have been the first time they’d fooled around.

When the bride walked down the aisle, my eyes continued to drift between Lewis and Rick. Did Paul’s brother really know about them? Did he care? Why did
I
care? I was letting myself get worked up and confused about the lives of people I didn’t even like. I took a breath and pushed them out of my mind.

The wedding took longer than it needed to. Marjorie had gone all out. Long speeches. Drawn out songs. I was widening my eyes, blinking rapidly to keep from falling asleep. After far too long, the minister pronounced them husband and wife and they thankfully walked down the aisle.

“
Do you want to talk to them before we leave?” I asked Paul.

“
I might as well. Come with me to the reception for a bit?”

Luckily, it was being held in the building next door. We walked over and joined the line of people waiting to give the new couple their well wishes.

Marjorie’s eyes lit up when she saw Paul. “I’m so glad you came,” she beamed, pulling him in for a hug. The picture I’d found of them flashed in my mind. Still, even now, they looked good together, complimenting one another well. Before I lost myself to a jealous daydream, I pushed the image aside. Her smile to me was more reserved—short and passed on to the person behind me within seconds.

Rick and Paul were locked in a firm handshake. Their faces were close, but Paul was looking away from me. Rick whispered in his ear, eyeing me the entire time. Marjorie was squealing with delight over my shoulder, making it impossible to hear his words. They separated and Rick pulled me in for a hug.

“
You ever get tired of Paul, you know where to find me,” he whispered, giving my side a sleazy squeeze.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

MY SIDE TINGLED WITH unwanted nerves where Rick had touched me. The entire ride back to Paul’s townhouse was quiet, but my skin crawled. If Paul and I had a future, as I hoped we did, I’d never be comfortable alone with his brother.

Maybe this is what Rick had done with Marjorie—thrown small advances here and there, seeing if she wanted to reciprocate. Most likely. Neither one of them seemed the committing type. With a sigh, I shook it off as I stepped out of the car.

Paul met me at the hood, a genuine smile on his face. “Thank you,” he said. “You were right. It felt good to go. Maybe Rick and I can mend this.”

“
What did he say to you?”

Paul shrugged. “Just that he was happy I came and he hoped we could be true brothers again. I think we can.”

He was so hopeful and happy. With a smile, he walked away and I held my breath. Should I tell him what Rick said to me? Did I want to ruin their relationship all over again?

“
Paul,” I called, realizing it wasn’t
me
ruining anything. Rick was.

He turned over his shoulder, eyebrows raised.

“
Rick, um. Rick came on to me. At the wedding. He winks at me and touches me inappropriately. I’m not comfortable around him.”

Paul frowned, his head jerking in shock. “He came on to you?
At his wedding?
”

It
did
sound farfetched—a man, at his wedding, hitting on his brother’s girlfriend. Who did that?

“
When did you even speak to him?” Paul asked.

“
In the receiving line. He said–he said if I ever got tired of you, I knew where to find him.”

Paul closed his eyes tight and looked away from me. “Have you two ever…? Done…anything?” His shoulders were squared, as if he was already prepared for me to say yes.

“
What?
” I asked, and moved to stand in front of him. “Do you really think I’d do that?” He refused to make eye contact, so I grabbed his face and forced him to. “No, Paul. Never. I only ever want you. Give me some credit. I’m not Marjorie.”

Something in his eyes was different. He was angry. Furious. His jaw ticked and I could feel his coiled tension ready to snap. His rage was fearsome and I was grateful Rick wasn’t there. Paul would tear him limb from limb.

Not knowing what else to do, I petted him, rubbing my hands down his arms and chest. “Rick’s a jerk,” I said. “A stupid jerk. I’m sorry I’m ruining all your hopes of reconciliation, I just…I couldn’t let you believe he’d somehow changed. But I–I love you, and couldn’t hold that in.”

Through my words, I hadn’t realized how close he suddenly was. His torso pressed into mine, and his hands were on my hips. My breath quickened when they squeezed.

“
Fuck. Rick,” he said.

Everything happened quickly. A strong arm went around my waist and he lifted me off the ground. There were a few jerks and slams as he opened the door to his townhouse and roughly deposited me on the arm of his couch.

I was too stunned to do anything but watch as he removed his jacket and pulled his shirt out of his pants. His hands went to my legs and he forced them under me, pulling my behind to the edge of the arm. Paul was usually in control of his emotions, and seeing him so forceful made my body immediately respond. It was hot and panting, ready for his touch. Quickly, I unbuckled his pants, pushing them down his legs.

“
Please, Paul,” I said when he hesitated. “I want you.”

My panties were jerked off, and he stepped into the cradle of my thighs, spreading them. His dick hovered at my entrance and I gripped his shoulders, putting our bodies and faces close, but he didn’t move.

“
What’s wrong?” I asked.

He blew out a steady breath. “I’m…trying to calm down.”

“
Why?” I was drenched in need and could only think of sating it.

“
I’m angry, Mia. I don’t want to be too…aggressive.”

I’d had sweet. I’d had focused. I
wanted
to see him lose control.

“
He came onto me while you were standing a foot away. You can get aggressive. I want you to.”

Our eyes connected and he saw what I was asking, what I needed. With a strength and determination he’d never used before, he pushed himself into me. Hard. Forceful. My legs dangled in the air, spreading wider to give him access. I didn’t even have to move, Paul did it all for me, using his arms to maneuver my body as he needed.

Our warm breaths mixed as we panted to his thrusts. Faster. Harder. My nails dug into his shoulders and he groaned. With masculine need, his hands held me. One on my low back. The other gripping my hair. It forced me flush with his body and my eyes closed—the hot rhythm of his pumping too much for me to take. The sounds he made were firm and deep, the roll of his hips purposeful.

“
Paul,” I breathed. “It’s so good.”

Hearing that set him on fire. He pulled back and ripped the shirt from his body. His pants were kicked away and he fully discarded my clothes in expertly maneuvered jerks. When he came back for me, he leaned in, his thrust pushing me off the arm of the couch. My hands fumbled to find something to cling to, but I was too focused on the burning heat between my legs. My breathing was erratic and I was getting lost in the choking inhales. Paul grabbed me, lowering me down. My shoulders hit the couch first, and I arched my hips, meeting him.

“
Christ, Mia,” he said, gripping my waist.

“
Don’t stop,” I said. “Please.” We stumbled to the couch and he dropped my hips, pumping harder. I loved the look in his eyes. Intense. Wild. His eyelids were hooded, his mouth open as he expelled shaky breaths.

Unable to stay still, I turned my head and saw the bulging of his muscular arm. A thin sweat was building on his skin and I moaned, arching my legs up. It brought him deeper and Paul made a wholly sexual sound that liquefied me.