So Much More (Made for Love #3) (13 page)

Sage is the picture of hipster—from the nineteen-fifties haircut, to the horn-rimmed glasses, to his collection of graphic t’s and his left arm covered in a sleeve of tattoos. He’s got such a fun countenance and he’s really intellectual. He’s also filled with that crazy energy that comes with being a twenty-one-year-old male. I enjoy working with all of the baristas, they’ve been so welcoming and helpful, but he’s definitely my favorite.

He works part-time while he pursues his music career. He’s the lead singer in a local band. They call themselves
Mountains & Men.
When I ask him about his Friday night, he runs his fingers through his hair and shakes his head at me.

“Fucking
amazing,
” he answers. “We had practice last night and we totally just whipped out a new song. We’re calling it
Wild
. We’re going to play it tonight—which, by the way, you have to be there.”

I laugh, his enthusiasm contagious. “You have a gig tonight? Where?”

“Shit, I didn’t tell you? We’re playing at The Brew Cycle. It’s just a couple blocks from here. We go on at nine and we’ve got a forty-five minute set. Invite everyone you know.”

“Okay, I will,” I promise, making a mental note to shoot Aria and Josh a text later. We’re not exactly a crowd, but it’s the best I can do. I haven’t really been out since I’ve been back. Beer, friends, and live music sounds like the perfect way to say goodbye to my first week back in Fort Collins. Besides, I’m interested to see what Sage’s band is all about, so it’s an easy choice.

“Hey, Brandon, you’ll be there tonight, right?”

I look behind me just as Brandon emerges from the back. As I await his answer, I find myself anxious with anticipation.

Say yes. Say yes. Say yes
.

I’m not even going to pretend I don’t want him there. I do. I
so
do.

“Yeah. I’m going to try and make it.”

“Right answer,” says Sage, offering Brandon his fist.

As they touch knuckles, Brandon shakes his head and smiles at me.

I offer him a smile in return before I pull out my phone.

Screw later. Aria needs to know she’s got plans tonight, right now!

H
ER SMILE IS LIKE
my sustenance. I can no longer get through the day without it. When I see her gorgeous face light up, I wonder how in the hell I've lived this long without it. I swear, my head must have been so far up my ass for me not to have remembered her from before.

Up my ass or consumed by Olivia. I can no longer differentiate the two.

I'm learning that Sarah is everything Olivia is not. Sweet. Caring. Kind. Selfless. Honest. In short, Sarah is unbelievable. Everyday, she surprises me a little bit more. Everyday, she gives me one more reason to want her. Everyday, I have to remind myself that I can't have her. Sometimes, it's all I can do to leave the room that she inhabits. In the mornings, when it’s just her and me, I know I’m being gifted with the
best
part of my day.

I didn’t know baking could be anymore fun.

I was so friggin’ wrong.

After the first couple of mornings, it hit me that I haven't shared a kitchen with anyone since my dad. Not really. Losing myself in a recipe, or in my experimental attempts to craft one, was always
my
thing. Something I had inherited from my dad. It was almost like inviting anyone else into my creative space tainted it somehow. With Sarah, it’s not like that at all. I’m starting to understand that, right now, she needs the bakery.

She wears her brokenness in her eyes. Those big, beautiful, bright, blue eyes. She’s only ever hinted at the pain I sometimes see there, but I know she feels better when she’s baking. I’m not just happy to give her that, I’m desperate for it. I know what it’s like to find relief in the kitchen and it seems only right that I invite her to be a part of mine. Not to mention how much of a help she is.

I won’t lie and say it’s been easy handing her so much responsibility. I don’t trust easily. But in less than a week, she’s taken on more than I ever intended on giving her. She insists on being generous and I’ll admit that I don’t always know how to handle it. At the end of the day, though, it’s almost impossible to say no to the woman who’s got me by the balls.

She has no idea what she does to me.

Hell, I have a hard time wrapping my head around it myself.

I craved Olivia. For years, my body ached for her and her alone. She knows me like no one else. She’s given me the greatest pleasure I’ve ever known. She’s also hurt me more times than I can count. She’s dug her claws right through my heart, leaving scars that I’ll carry with me always.

But Sarah…

My desire to know her feels bottomless. Everyday, I get a little bit more of her. Yet, it’s never enough. I long for
more
. I want it
all
. I can’t even explain it—but something tells me that underneath that smile, behind those eyes, there’s a woman whose beauty is everlasting. I can feel it when she walks into the room. I can hear it when she laughs.

Fuck, she messes with my head, but in the best possible way.

I haven’t even kissed her. I don’t know what she tastes like, I don’t know what she feels like; all I know is that she smells like sunshine and she’s got a body that
my
body would like to become acquainted with. Just thinking about what it would be like to touch her—to taste her—
every last inch of her
…

I tug on my jeans, suddenly feeling uncomfortable.

Like I said, she’s got me by the balls.

I find this to be extraordinarily unfair as I can’t do a damn thing about it.

I can look all I want, but I can’t touch.

The importance of that rule seems to grow leaps and bounds with every day that goes by. She’s proven to be the perfect fit for this place. Daphne was right—she’s my new partner-in-crime. I can’t mess that up. I won’t. Then, of course, I can’t forget about her heart. The scars she bears are fresh.

“Dude, you’re staring,” says Sage, nudging me with his elbow.

I pull in a deep breath, scrubbing my hand down my face as I look away from Sarah. She’s sitting at a table, her legs folded up against her chest, her chin resting on top of her knees, her eyes glued to her tablet.

“Not that she would notice. She hardly looks up from that thing.”

I lift an eyebrow at him before I point out, “Spoken like someone who stares.”

He shrugs with a smirk. “She's hot.” I scowl at him, unappreciative of his admission. “Chill, man! I'm simply stating the obvious,” he insists lifting his hands in surrender.

I relax my face, not the least bit apologetic for my unspoken warning. If I can't have her, neither can he. Or anyone else, for that matter. I know that makes me sound like a possessive prick, but I can't stand the thought of her belonging to someone else.

“What do you think she's reading, anyway?” he asks, seemingly unscathed by my behavior.

“I don't know,” I say as I begin to make my way from behind the counter. I need another smile, and I intend to get one. “But I'm going to find out.”

She’s so engrossed in what she’s doing, she doesn’t notice my approach. When I snatch her yellow covered device from out of her hands, she gasps—her eyes opening wide in surprise. I smile at her as she jumps to her feet and then look to see what’s got her so captivated.

“Brandon! OhmygodBrandon, give that back!” She tugs on my arm, causing the screen to be pulled out of focus. I simply switch hands, her adamancy heightening my intrigue. “Shit—
Brandon!
Please. C’mon. I’m serious—give it back!”

My eyes scan the page and the words
wet pussy
stand out like a neon sign. My eyebrows shoot up as I grin down at her, equally shocked and amused. “Why, Sarah—what do we have here?”

“Don’t you dare judge me—and give that back!” She reaches for it, but I lift it above my head.

“Judge you? Of course not,” I assure her, holding back a laugh. “But it’s not nice to keep this all to yourself.”

“Oh. Just great. Now you’re laughing at me.
Give it back
, or I swear—” Her threat is left unspoken. When she lunges at me, I wrap my free arm around her, pinning her to my chest. She braces her hands around my waist as she tries to push away from me, but I’m stronger than she is.

With Sarah locked in one place, I lower her tablet until I can make out the words on her current page. In the scene, some guy is fucking his girl. With his tongue. She likes it.
A lot
.

Sarah squirms in another failed attempt to escape from my grasp. All at once my cock is ready, waiting, and wanting. As if I’m waking from a dream instead of falling into one, the feel of her hands against my sides makes my heart race. The floral scent of her shampoo and the fresh, sexy scent of her skin fills my lungs and turns me on even more. Suddenly, the guy in the scene is
me
and my tongue is exploring Sarah’s—

“Brandon,” she mumbles pathetically, burying her face in my chest as if she’s ready to claim defeat. “Please?”

The sound of her begging about kills me. I have to stifle the growl of desire that’s crawling up my throat. When I lower the tablet and look down at her, she peeks up at me from beneath her eyelashes. For a moment, neither of us moves. It takes me a second to calm down. When I’m sure I can use my voice again, I murmur, “You’re a very naughty girl, Sarah. You’re
definitely
coming to church with me tomorrow.”

A shy smirk pulls at her lips before she speaks. “I thought we agreed, no judging?”

“You’re reading
porn.
To each his own, but—”

“It’s
not
porn,” she states in a harsh whisper. “Sure, they have sex, but that’s only
part
of the story. They’re in love. Well, currently
he
loves
her
and she’s not so sure, but deep down—you know what? It doesn’t matter. The point is, it’s
not
porn. It’s just a love story that’s rated R. You know, for mature audiences only. If you think it’s porn, maybe you aren’t
mature,
” she quips.

“A love story that’s rated R?” I chuckle.

“Yes! And before I was
rudely interrupted,
I was getting to the good part!”

“Oh, you mean the part where she comes?”

She laughs and I swear, in this moment, she rips my heart right out of my chest and tucks it into her pocket.

“For real, though, you don’t know what you’re missing. Romance novels are amazing. Oh—” she squeezes my waist in her excitement and my dick stirs to life again. “It’s like your blueberry crumble muffins, except for my brain instead of my mouth.”

Now it’s my turn to laugh. “Delicious and void of any nutritional value?”

“Exactly. So, can I have my Kindle back?”

Three days.
I haven’t touched her in
three days
. I was being so damn good. I shouldn't have reached for her. Now, I know how well she tucks under my arm—how well she fits against my chest. Now, I don’t want to let her go.

“You’re coming to church with me tomorrow,” I mutter, forcing myself to pull away from her.

“Name the time and place,” she tells me, holding her hands out.

“I’ll pick you up at nine,” I reply, returning her Kindle.

She lifts an eyebrow at me. “On your bike?”

“I have a car, Sunshine. Just text me your address.”

“Deal. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to finish this chapter.”

“As you were,” I reply with a parting wink.