Declaration (Preservation, # 3) Read online

  There was no holding back then. She could have what she wanted, because I needed it, too.

  I moved to sit up on the backs of my heels and grasped her hips firmly. Powering forward, I began to fuck her hard, relishing the way her fists tightened on the sheets. I couldn’t look at anything other than the action happening in front of me, watching every slap of her ass against my cock. I smacked into her, over and over. It was all too good for words. I had none. Only sounds. Completely desperate, primal sounds, which prompted her own needy wails. I exploded against her and her head rolled forward as she screamed into the sheets, the pillow stifling her cries.

  Collapsing beside her, I pulled my glasses from my nose. They’d steamed up. I dropped them on the bedside with a clatter and fell back against the pillows, breathing hard.

  Whitney’s head rolled to the side. “That was…”

  “Wow.” I nodded.

  “I think I finally understand why some people smoke after sex.”

  I laughed, reaching for my pack and lighter next to my glasses. “I’m going to step outside. Care to join me?”

  “I can’t walk yet.”

  I smiled and rolled onto my side, bringing my arms around her. She wiggled against me, letting me spoon her, and I swept some sweaty hair away from her neck to kiss beneath her ear. “How do you like your new tattoo?”

  “I love it. It makes me want to be a bird.”

  “You already are a bird.”

  “I don’t get to fly.”

  “You fly all the time. Haven’t you noticed?”

  She grinned into her shoulder, playing with my fingers. “I don’t want to go into work today. I just want to roll around in the sheets with you and order take-out.”

  “No reason we can’t do that on our next day off. Let’s swap schedules and see when we can make it happen.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah.” I kissed her hair. “It’s a date.”

  “Yay! Okay, and speaking of dates, there’s something I wanted to ask you.”

  “What is it?”

  “Will you go on another date with me?”

  My chest shook with a soft chuckle. “Didn’t we just agree to another one?”

  “Technically, yes. But I have something else in mind. A Halloween party. It’s coming up soon. One of my coworkers is throwing it at her aunt’s beach house. Her aunt only visits in the winter and gives her the key for the rest of the year. Will you be my date?”

  “Oh God, does this mean I have to dress up?”

  “What kind of Halloween party would it be if you didn’t have to dress up?”

  I cringed.

  What was worse than being the center of attention? Being the center of attention while dressed up like a total ass clown. “Okay, you know me and parties don’t mix, right?”

  “You mentioned you used to do karaoke back home with your friends.” Shit. I told her that? “You’ve thrown parties back home. You played in a band, for crying out loud. You’re telling me you can’t go to a simple Halloween get-together?”

  “That’s different. Way different.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “What? How is any of that different?”

  “Those are social situations I can handle. Barbeques. Karaoke and beer. Laid-back stuff. This sounds like a full-on spike-the-punch and buy-a-costume kinda party.”

  “Oooohhhh, you’re one of those kids,” Whitney said, suddenly cracking up.

  “What in the hell is so damn funny? One of what kids?”

  “You had a horrible high school experience, didn’t you?”

  “High school is where demons go to eat little children.”

  “Carter!” She erupted into body-shaking laughter, rolling from left to right. “Oh my God, you are too much. This isn’t high school anymore!”

  “Um, hello, have you seen the movie ‘Carrie’?”

  “Please,” she begged, gripping her stomach as the laughter crippled her. “Stop. I can’t breathe!”

  I covered my eyes and sighed. There was no way I’d get it up again today for this girl if she kept up with this escapade.

  “I’m sorry, I’m done.” She waved her hands around with a snort, wiping the tears from the corners of her eyes. “I swear, I’m done. Anyway, you have to come with me.”

  “Says who?”

  “Says me!”

  “What are you going as?”

  “It’s a surprise.”

  “You’re just full of those, aren’t you?”

  “So are you.”

  Completely resigned to giving this girl whatever she wanted, I nuzzled into her neck and sucked gently, pulling her tighter against me. “Of course I’ll be your date. Just say when, and I’m there. No promises I won’t hide in a corner the whole time, though.”

  “Good.” Wiggling free from my grip, she sat up, then stood, letting the sheet drop from her body. She glanced over her shoulder to send me a coy smile. “See ya later, Montgomery.” Just like that, she bent down to retrieve her blue dress. I sat up to watch her, enjoying the view. She slipped the dress on, grabbed her shoes and purse, then sashayed to the front door without looking back.

  She was gone, and I was left sitting there in a daze, already plotting how I’d get out of this whole dressing-up thing.

  ***

  The next week was full of cool developments. For one, Jackson and Emma had finally gotten together. Whitney and Emma were all giggly with girl gossip whenever they were together, so I tried to steer clear of their gush sessions and give them their space whenever I could. Jackson was on cloud nine, skipping and singing and generally scaring the shit out of his neighbors at the marina—and me.

  Whitney and I were sneaking dates whenever we had the chance. Between her two jobs and classes and my job at the shop, it had been tough, but so worth the effort. We did dinner and a movie, I played for her out on the dock during her lunch hour, and she slept over a few times. She modeled her maid uniforms for me, I modeled my top hat and invisible cane, and God love her, she even watched a season of “Downton Abbey” with me.

  We’d also dined at Orpheus, and I’d accepted Tony’s offer to give his daughter Tia guitar lessons. The extra cash couldn’t hurt, and something about the opportunity appealed to me. Maybe it was because it meant getting paid to share my love for music with someone else. Maybe it was the challenge. Whatever is was, teaching a kid to play an instrument was somehow…exciting.

  Things were starting to feel normal again. Not like old times, just…comfortable. Not only had I settled into my job at the shop, my flat, and my new set of friends, but I’d managed to chat again with Kate without things feeling all awkward. I noticed a trend.

  As long as we stayed far, far away from the wedding subject, we were good.

  So, I didn’t bring it up, and when she tried, I changed the subject. We’d have to discuss it as some point, but hey, this was progress. Dean and I texted constantly, and even he didn’t bother bringing up the dreaded topic. I couldn’t help but want everything to stay just the way it was: peaceful, content, and productive. I was moving on. I’d built a brand new life from scratch, and although I still wasn’t sure where it was taking me or if I was any closer to figuring out what I wanted to do with the rest of it, I realized that right now, those things simply didn’t matter to me.

  What mattered was the fact that I was doing exactly what I came here to do. I was living life, moving forward, and trying new things.

  The door jingled as I walked into Orpheus around 6 p.m. The place was quiet, much different than the lively atmosphere I’d grown used to seeing around this time in the evenings, with only a few patrons enjoying a meal on the far side of the restaurant.

  “Ah, Carter, my boy!” Tony’s voice came at me from the kitchen doorway. He made his way toward me with open arms, pulling me into a hug like a long-lost relative.

  I patted his back awkwardly and gave him a smile. “How’s it going, Tony?”

  “Good, good. You have…what do they call it…the glow!�
�

  “The glow?”

  “Yes, the glow. You know, like pregnant women get.”

  I cocked a brow at the man. “Uh…”

  “You very funny, my boy. Very funny. Come. Tia is upstairs.” He gave his afternoon patrons a little wave and led me through the kitchen to a stairwell. We ascended and entered through a door at the top. He offered me a seat in the living room and disappeared behind a small hallway to call out for his daughter. “Tia, your teacher is here.”

  Tia’s squeals could be heard from around the corner. I set Liz’s guitar case down and folded my hands awkwardly on my lap. I’d always been weird with kids. They were great and all, but I hadn’t had much experience with them, let alone any interest in them. I never knew what to say. It was kind of like talking to people who were parents. You know, the parents who drone on and on about nothing but their children, while you sit and listen. Understandable, of course, considering those kids are the loves of their lives, but downright boring to someone who isn’t a parent. So, you sit there and listen, nod politely, and let them talk. But you have absolutely no idea what to say back, because you can’t relate.

  Talking to kids was a similar scenario.

  They go on and on with their cute little kiddo talk—even though you totally can’t relate to what the hell they’re rambling about—and in the end, you don’t know how to respond. Not unless you had a little one of your own or shared their passion for eating crayons.

  I hoped Tia would be different. Easier to manage for people like me, who didn’t naturally jive with the little tykes. I’d only met her for a few seconds, so I had no idea what I was in for, here. All I knew was this wasn’t my element, and her father had just compared me to a pregnant woman.

  Wasn’t there something wrong with this picture?

  I contemplated this and reminded myself why I was excited to take this job as Tia zipped around the hallway corner and jumped in front of me to say hello, like she was surprising me with the biggest present in the world. It looked like someone had doused her in Pepto and plastered unicorns all over her shoes.

  No, really. Unicorns were really plastered all over her sneakers.

  She grinned up at me, and there was a mischievous sparkle in her eyes. I hadn’t seen it the night I met her, but now it was clear as day.

  Oh, yeah. This one was definitely a little pisser.

  “You’re Carter,” she said, her nose scrunching up. “I remember you!”

  “I remember you, too.”

  Tony came from the same direction as Tia, appearing through the hallway archway, carrying a small guitar. “Here is your new guitar,” he said, all jolly and daddy-like. He handed her the instrument and pointed to me. “You be good for Mr. Carter, yes? You learn a lot and make Mommy very proud. She’ll be watching from heaven.” He gestured to the ceiling and Tia’s head fell back with a great big smile.

  “Okay, Daddy!”

  “That’s my girl.” Tony looked to me. “I’ll be back in one hour.” He gestured in the air with a pointed index finger. “Going to run downstairs and make sure everything’s running smoothly in the kitchen. We preparing for big party tonight for dinner. They reserve the whole restaurant!”

  “Oh, okay. Sure.”

  I watched Tony disappear. Guess it was time to get down to business. “So,” I said, looking at Tia, “are you ready to get started?”

  “Yep. I’ll sit next to you.” She hopped up on the sofa with me, cradling her guitar on her lap. She pointed to my case. “That your guitar?”

  “Yes ma’am.” I zipped the case open and pulled out my girl and a spare pic. “Her name is Liz.”

  “You named it?”

  “Of course I did. You have to name yours, too.”

  “I’ll name mine Liz, too.”

  “Uh…don’t you want to pick a different name?”

  “Nope. I want Liz.”

  “Okay, then. Sure.”

  “Why did you name it Liz?”

  “I like the name Elizabeth.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it’s the name of a queen.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I like queens.”

  She tilted her head to the side, thoughtfully studying my guitar. “Like the Queen of England?”

  The pick I’d been holding took a tumble to the living room floor. “Yeah,” I said. “Like the Queen of England.”

  “I wanna go to England some day! Will you tell my Daddy to take me? Plleeeassseee?”

  “You want to go to England.”

  “Yep!”

  “Kid,” I extended a hand for a shake, “we’re gonna get along just great.”

  ***

  Tia’s first lesson was a success, partially due to her inquisitiveness, love for the name Liz, and her general level of cuteness.

  The kid was alright.

  But now I was running late—Tony was a talker, and boy, did he talk my ear off after the lesson—and I had somewhere to be. Tonight was the Halloween party Whitney had invited me to, and I couldn’t wait to rush home, shower, and pick up my girl.

  It didn’t take me long to wash up and throw on my Queen’s Foot Guard costume, complete with bearskin headpiece. I’d actually sucked it up and bought a costume. It was either that, or let Whitney dress me.

  Yeah, that wasn’t going to happen.

  She wanted to pick my costume, of course, but God only knew what humiliation she would’ve had in store for me if I’d let her get away with that one. So, I picked a form of humiliation I could at least live with, although I was really rethinking the damn headpiece. It wouldn’t fit while I drove, so I stuffed it on the passenger seat and sped off, anxious to see what Whitney had chosen to wear. She’d insisted on keeping it a secret, and I didn’t doubt for one second that she’d be a knockout in whatever the hell she chose.

  I knocked on her door at 8:15, my jaw dropping when she answered.

  “Hey you,” she said, planting a hand on her hip. Reaching forward, she grazed my chin and tipped it up, closing my gaping mouth. “Where’s the Queen?”

  “You’re…” I shook my head, eyeing her up and down.

  This absolutely was not happening. It couldn’t be possible.

  “Will you marry me?” I stammered back, reaching for something, anything to hold myself upright.

  She burst out laughing, pulling me inside and shutting the door. She did a little twirl to show off the goods, and I almost scooped her up and carried her off to the bedroom right then. “Well, do you like it or what?”

  “Whitney, seriously. I will walk you down the damn aisle. Right now.”

  “I’m Posh Spice!” She held her arms out and did another twirl. “What do ya think? Did I get it right?”

  “I know exactly who you are.”

  And I did.

  There was no way this girl could have known my deepest, darkest secret—the enormous crush I’d had on The Spice Girls during middle school. No one knew. Not even Dean or Kate, and that was really saying something. If the truth ever got out, it would positively perpetuate the never-ending joke that I was Dean’s lover, until the end of time.

  The theory would not die.

  So I never told a soul. Even then, during my school days, when the crush was at an all-time high, I knew better to keep my mouth shut. I was already picked on for being the quiet, boring, nerdy kid. There was no surviving the torment for being a Spice Girls fan. Period.

  Whitney played with her short wig, brushing the sides of the bob style down against her cheeks. “Posh was my favorite when I was a kid. And I figured you’d do something British, so…”

  Funny. I pegged her for a Scary or Ginger fan.

  “You nailed it, Whit. You look amazing.” I studied her short, tight black dress and black heels. I’d just keep the little fact that Ginger was my favorite to myself.

  “You look pretty charming yourself, Montgomery. Where’s your hat?”

  “Uh…yeah, about that…”

  “You have to wear
the bearskin hat thingy! The costume’s not the same without it!”

  “It’s in the car. I think my dog chewed on it or something.”

  “You don’t have a dog.”

  “The neighbor’s dog did.”

  “You’re not getting out of this one that easily, you know.”

  “Ha.” I held out my arm. “We’ll see about that. You ready?”

  “Oh, I was born ready. I hope they’re ready for a British invasion.” She struck a pose, slipped her arm in mine, and we started for the door.

  Chapter 10

  Thorns

  By the time we arrived at her friend’s beach house, Whitney had gotten her way. The hat that came with my costume was firmly planted on my head. It was a struggle not to knock into people when we entered the party. I was worried I would take someone’s eye out or something. “I’m not keeping this thing on the whole night, you know,” I warned Whitney as we worked our way through the main hallway to the living room.

  “Yes, you are!”

  “If I injure someone with it, you’re responsible.”

  “Just keep it on until I can find Em and have her take a picture of us.”

  It didn’t take long to find Emma. She was making out with Jackson in the corner near the snack table. Damn, Jackson really had no shame. He had her pinned up against the wall, and she was clearly loving every second of it.

  “Ugh. Jackson, she doesn’t need your cooties.” Whitney tugged at his shirt sleeve, effectively breaking up the make-out session.

  He kept Emma caged against the wall, scowling at Whitney. “Hey, look who it is! The Black Widow. Peddle your poison elsewhere, Sinclair.”

  Whitney pounded her clutch purse into his shoulder with an audible smack, but all he did was laugh. His cackle grew louder with each whack, until she finally abandoned her beating and addressed her friend. “Emma, I know I encouraged you to be with this asshat, but I’m starting to re-think my advice. I don’t think I was in my right frame of mind at the time.”

  Emma smiled and rolled her eyes, pulling Jackson against her. “Come on, Whit. Play nice, will you?” She glanced over Whitney’s shoulder to greet me. “Hey, Carter, nice costume!”