Second Chances: The Bold and the Beautiful (9 page)

“Sorry,” Rick said, starting again.

Dip, press, stroke.

“Yes,” he went on. “I think so. At least, I mean, I think that’s how it started. When I saw you today, at that florist, it seemed that we were in exactly the same place, battling the same demons. And you seemed so …”

“Messed up?” Steffy could only imagine how she must have looked, sitting there at the florist.

“Beautiful,” Rick said, carefully applying the new dressing before smoothing her hair where he had pulled it away from her face. As he did, the slight tug on her scalp lit up Steffy’s circuitry, and the brush of his warm hand on her shoulder didn’t help either.

Steffy tried to focus on his words. “Losing Phoebe the way I did, it had a huge impact on my life. It was the turning point, really. The beginning of knowing I needed to be different. But—”

He broke off and stepped away from her. He was rubbing his eyes and she was hit by the realization of how difficult the day had been for him too.

“But it took me a long time, years, before I worked out how to do that. If there was one thing Phoebe knew about, it was following your heart. Today I decided I can be exactly who I need to be. Who I
want
to be. And that’s okay. Life is short, and precious. All we can do is live in the moment.”

“It was the same for me,” Steffy said quietly. “The same, but different. Losing her, it felt like I’d lost a piece of me. She had always been there. When she was gone, I spun out of control. The times I’ve wanted her—” Steffy dipped her head, not wanting Rick to see the tears that formed in her eyes. She did not want to cry, not again. She took a breath. “The times I’ve wanted her to be around. Just to see her, laugh with her, tell her something. Most people are born into this world alone, and we learn to let others in. It’s not like that when you’re a twin. Your first experiences, your earliest memories … they’re all of being part of something bigger than you.”

Rick nodded, reaching out to touch Steffy’s cheek.

“Why do you keep doing that?” she asked.

“Because it’s so soft,” he said. “And I can’t help myself.” He picked up one long curl and settled it back on her shoulder. “Go on,” he said. “I’m listening.”

Steffy chewed on her lip, trying to get the words exactly right. “Today, at the cemetery, I thought I’d found some closure. I talked to her. Does that sound crazy?”

Rick shook his head and stepped closer to her. “Nope,” he said. “I still do it sometimes.”

Steffy bowed her head again, in case she really did sound crazy. She didn’t want to see it in his eyes. “I told her I’d decided to make a better go of things. That I was going to live, for her. For the life she couldn’t have.”

“So what went wrong?” The little frown between his eyes was so appealing she wanted to smooth it with her finger. “Why did you go from that, to jumping on that bike and taking that risk?”

“What went wrong?” Steffy laughed a little. “What didn’t? Liam.  Caroline. Your mom. But she didn’t need to do much. Not really. It was mostly me. My fears took over. I just had to get away. It all crashed in on me. I felt like I was …” She shrugged.

“Worthless?” Rick’s prompt brought the tears to Steffy’s eyes again.

“Yes,” she said. “I didn’t care today, Rick. I really didn’t. I just rode and rode, faster and faster.”

“I know,” he said. “I could see you. So close, and yet not. It almost killed me. I needed to get to you. I needed to tell you to stop. And to put your damn helmet on.”

“Why?” This was the thing Steffy couldn’t quite understand. Why did it matter so much to him? Why did she matter so much to him? The thought occurred to her again. Phoebe. Maybe he really was just trying to make right the things he’d gotten wrong before.

He closed his eyes. “I couldn’t let it happen again. I know how easily things can spiral out of control.”

Steffy nodded. “I get it.”

“No.” Rick’s eyes opened. “No, you don’t get it, Steffy. It was also more, much more than that. What you and I have is different. I felt it today and I know you did too. I was a kid when Phoebe and I were together. We were kids. You and I are different now. We’re all grown up.”

As he said it, his voice lowered. Their eyes met and suddenly Rick was standing so close that she could feel his breath on her face, hot and sweet. Rick reached a hand to her face again, and then quickly drew it back. “Time for bed,” he said, giving what looked like a forced smile. “You’ve had a big day.”

Steffy knew it was true but it didn’t stop the sinking drag in the bottom of her stomach as he moved across to turn out the lights.

*

Rick moved closer to her, his nakedness hot and hard against the soft satin of her nightgown. She could feel every hard muscle and sinew of him. His skin burned hers through the material. She ran her hands over his shoulders, lingering on the bone there, before trailing her fingers lightly down his arms. His biceps flexed under her touch.

His head swooped down and she waited for the kiss that she knew was coming. But his head dived lower, dipping onto one taut nipple and sucking it into his mouth. The sensation set off waves of shivers across her torso and down her arms—and lower.

Her hips bucked against the hardness below his hips and she felt herself grow wet as he pressed into her. She called out his name.

“Steffy.”

The room swam and spun.

“Steffy, are you okay?”

Steffy sat up, disoriented and dizzy in the dark. Her leg ached and the unfamiliar room frightened her. It took a second or two before the pieces fell into place. Rick had taken her to his home.

And Rick was sitting on the bed beside her, not sucking her nipple.

“Steffy, you were calling out for me. Are you okay?” Rick switched on a low lamp by the bed. He was shirtless. The clock on the table read 02:19.

“Rick?” A freight train thundered through Steffy as she watched him, rumpled and sexy, his broad chest tanned and heavily muscled. He was right. They had been kids back then. And he was all man now. She shook her head to banish the thought. What was she doing, thinking about him like this? Last night she had been fighting with Liam. What had happened in a day? And what had that dream been about?

“I’m here, Steffy, shhh.” Rick wriggled closer to her. He looked sleep-dazed as he held out his arms to her and she dived into them, clinging to his chest. “You just had a nightmare.”

Steffy bit her lip against his warm chest.
Oh no, she hadn’t.

Rick hugged her hard, rubbing her back soothingly, like he would a child’s. “You’re safe here, just rest. You can stay as long as you like. As long as it takes you to sort out what you want.”

Steffy felt a flare of guilt flash though her. She pulled away. “It’s okay, Rick. I’m okay, honestly. I just always have strange dreams at this time of year.”

He nodded. “I hear ya.”

“Do you think you could just stay a while, lie beside me?” The words formed in her mouth before she could stop them. She knew she shouldn’t ask, she knew it was a step too far. She also knew why she wanted him there. Her skin was tingling from the assault of Dream Rick and she wanted to be near him, no matter how dangerous it was.

Rick looked at her long and hard. He shook his head. “No, Steffy,” he said. “I’m really sorry, but I just can’t.”

Shame coursed through Steffy. “Oh,” she said. “Oh Rick, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean, I wasn’t—”

“I know, honey,” he said. “I know that. It’s not you. You’re perfectly entitled to need a little comfort right now. It’s not you.” He grinned. “That old line, huh? ‘It’s not you, it’s me.’”

“Caroline?” Why did the vicious spike of jealousy rear its head as Steffy said her name? She had no right to it.

“What?” The word rose from Rick like a curse. “No, Steffy.” He shook his head. “God, no. That’s over. Long before today, if I’m honest with myself, but finally today, if you know what I mean.”

She nodded ruefully, thinking about Liam’s face as he’d delivered his ultimatum in the bar. She echoed Rick’s line from a moment earlier. “I hear ya.” Then she looked him directly in the eye. “So what is it?”

He moved closer, sitting so near to her that she could feel his hard thigh against hers through the starched white sheet. “Do you really, really not know?” His voice was a growl and he was a big cat, inching closer, trapping her with his gaze. “Do you really think I could lie beside you, like a nursemaid?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know.”

“Yes. You. Do.” Each word was a hard nail of certainty. He reached up and grasped Steffy’s chin, bringing her face close to his, slowly but firmly. “You know exactly what would happen if I stayed here with you.”

Steffy swallowed, shivering as Rick’s thumb stroked the side of her cheek.

“And that would be pretty great, actually,” Rick continued. “Except for one thing. I don’t want one hot night, Steffy. I don’t know what I do want. But I know I don’t want just one night from you.”

Steffy nodded. She knew. She really did.

“Which means,” Rick went on, “we need to talk. I need to really tell you what I’ve been feeling today, all day, more and more with each passing hour.”

Steffy wanted to talk, wanted to tell him to keep going. He was so dear to her, sitting like that, shirtless and honest, offering her comfort even while he made it clear he wanted much, much more.

She wanted to tell him she had been moved by him too. That he had increasingly affected her as the day went on. That by the time he was bathing her wounds she was just about wild with caring and confusion and lust. But the words stuck in her throat.

“Steffy,” Rick said, reaching out to touch her hair. He held a long curl in his fingers and stared down at it, rubbing its silkiness between his fingers like he was some kind of connoisseur, checking for quality. “You took a chance on me once before. And we had a beautiful thing. But it—”

“It was the wrong time,” she said.

“Yes,” he agreed, dropping the curl but picking up her hands and bringing them to his face, running her soft palms along the rough stubble on his cheeks. The sensation made her knees tremble.

“And now …” She looked at him, searching for the right words.

“And now it’s exactly the right time,” he said, bringing her hands to his mouth and slowly kissing each of them. “Could you ever—could we ever try again?”

Steffy remembered her promise at Phoebe’s graveside, to make every moment count. She realized she saw Rick differently. Not as the cruel, jealous boy who had messed with her whole family, but as someone who really understood her. Someone she had history with. Someone who could love and protect her, who had been by her side all day.

“I think so.” She nodded.

Rick moved his hands back to her face, grasping her chin again and pulling her toward him. His head dipped and his lips were on hers, firm and soft and warm and insistent. He parted her lips and the feeling of his tongue inside her mouth made her bones melt. She dissolved against him, running her hands across the hard wall of his chest.

Then she kissed him back. He was right. They weren’t children any more. And everything she felt, everything she wanted to do to him, was all grown up. She pressed her lips into his, meeting his tongue with hers, using her teeth on that sensuous bottom lip of his, pulling and tasting and daring him to take it further. So much further.

He pressed against her and pushed her onto the bed. He stared down at her, his shoulders rising and falling with each heavy breath. His eyes swept across her and he shook his head. “You are unbelievably beautiful,” he said. “Perfect. In every way. And I never want you to doubt that. Not ever again.” He looked like a god, shirtless and flushed, his desire satisfyingly evident through his soft cotton boxer shorts.

She wanted to tear them off him, see him as she had seen him in the dream, naked and perfect. She wanted to touch him intimately, take him in her hand, hear him lose control. Over and over again.

“Steffy,” he said, his voice hoarse. “I didn’t mean—I don’t think we should. It’s been a long, hard day for you, and then the accident. You need to be sure you want this right now.”

It was her turn to grasp his chin. She met his gaze steadily. “I’ve never been surer of anything,” she said. She took his hand and used it to drag her silken nightgown up her thigh. Then she guided it gently to her panties, placing it on top of the soft material.

Rick groaned deeply. “Oh, Steffy,” he said, slipping his fingers into her underwear. He kissed her feverishly, trailing his tongue and lips over her face, neck and chest, making his way relentlessly to the place he had been in her dream.

Maybe she really was developing psychic powers.

“Not here,” Rick rasped.

Why not? It seemed like a good place to Steffy.

“I want you in my bed,” Rick said, standing up and looking down at her with a stare so hot she felt the tiny hairs on her body scorch under his assault. “I want you in my bed. I want you in my life. I want you in my heart.”

Tears leaped to her eyes at his words. He wanted her. All of her. He knew her better than anyone, and he still wanted her.

He held out his hand to her. “Do you want to come?”

“Yes,” Steffy said, feeling the word echo in her heart and her head. And she realized she was right. She’d never felt surer of anything.

She stood and took his hand.

Rick picked her up as though she weighed nothing and held her close against his chest. Steffy’s skin burned under his touch as he squeezed her hard against him.

“This is just the beginning, Steffy,” Rick said, as he carried her to his room. “I promise.”

Ros Baxter writes fresh, funny, genre-busting fiction.

Her titles include
Fish Out of Water
and
White Christmas
, and she co-authored
Sister Pact
with her sister Ali. She has also been a contributing author to the e-anthology URL Love. Sequels to
Sister Pact
and
Fish Out of Water
will be published in 2014, as well as a new romantic comedy:
Lingerie for Felons
.

Ros lives in Brisbane, Australia, with her husband Blair, four small but very opinionated children, a neurotic dog and nine billion germs.