Just the Way You Are (Decadence Creek) Read online

  He followed the train tracks and took big gulps of fresh country air. They’d had a wet spring and everything was vibrant, green, and full of life. A short drive away in the city, concrete and asphalt overwhelmed what was supposed to be his real life, and Harrison had begun to feel suffocated.

  He hopped a fence and let the wind whip through his hair. Maybe he’d make his way down to the creek and tromp through the water like he’d done as a kid. He needed to get his mind right. Needed to break free of this malaise.

  When he’d landed a job in Louisville after law school, he’d purchased a downtown condo to go with it. He’d wanted to send the right message to the partners—this wasn’t just a job to him, and he was committed to the firm.

  Two years of monochrome city life—with its hard edges and constant noise—had taken its toll. He needed to come home.

  He quickened his stride as he came up over a hill. Blood pumped to his limbs in a way health club treadmills couldn’t duplicate. He was waking up for the first time in months.

  As he came down the other side of the hill, he narrowed his eyes at the POS car parked in the tall grass along the tracks. A woman sat on the hood, knees drawn to her chest as the wind whipped her long, raven hair around her face.

  He approached silently, a little spooked by the timing of it all. His introspection and wish for change met so appropriately with the sight of the girl—woman, now—he’d once let slip through his fingers.

  As he stepped closer, the clouds pulled away from the sun. The light cast down through the trees and glinted off her tear streaked face.

  “Hey,” he said softly.

  Stacey Parker. She was his little sister’s best friend from college. He’d known her before that too. She’d grown up in Decadence Creek—a few years older than his little sister, a few years younger than him. She’d been this quiet, exotic beauty at their high school—turning heads with those impossibly long legs and all that thick, dark hair, and keeping the boys away with her force field of insecurity.

  “Everything okay?” It was a stupid question. This was not the posture of a woman with whom anything was okay.

  She swiped at tears with the back of her hand, her jaw hard. “Everything’s great.”

  He leaned against the car and followed her gaze to the little split-level home tucked behind the trees. “That’s where you grew up, isn’t it?”

  She didn’t answer, but it hadn’t really been a question.

  “Who lives there now?”

  “No one. The family that used to rent it from my father moved out.” She settled her chin on her knees.

  “You miss it?”

  She squeezed her eyes shut. “It reminds me of my mom.”

  His chest ached for her. He couldn’t imagine losing his mother. “How old were you when she died?”

  She took in a breath and let it out slowly, as if bracing herself to answer. “Sixteen.”

  He blinked at that. She’d been sixteen that hot August day he’d found her wandering around the estate. The day they’d torn at each other’s clothes in the middle of a cornfield, flattened husks scraping up their backs.

  The next day, she’d disappeared. Her family had left town and she hadn’t bothered to say goodbye.

  “I’m sorry about your mom.” He tucked a dark curl behind her ear, wiped away a stray tear. “Mom misses having you at the house. She complains that she lost two daughters when Addy moved to France.”

  That made her smile. She squeezed her eyes shut and laughed. “I have lunch with your mom at least twice a month.”

  He loved her smile. “Yeah, well, she’s so used to making people feel guilty, she practices even when they’re not around.”

  “You’re lucky to have her.”

  “I know.”

  She shook her head and wiped at her cheeks before sliding off the car. “I should get going.”

  “You want to tell me what’s going on?”

  “Nothing.” She pulled her keys from the pocket of her faded jeans. “Just being nostalgic.”

  “Liar.”

  She looked at her shoes. “My father likes to play cards.”

  Harrison winced at the understatement. Decadence Creek was a small town and Stacey’s father had once been big gossip—always gambling, always broke, always begging money off the nearest mark.

  “The house is supposed to be mine. My mom got it from her parents when she married, and she left it to me.”

  He frowned. “Are you going to move in then?”

  “It’s his until I get married. My mom was a romantic like that. But now that it’s vacant, I think he’s trying to figure out a way to sell it before it’s mine.”

  He nodded, not bothering with protests of what her father could and couldn’t legally do. He knew better than anyone that, for some, the law was just a technicality. “Looks like you and I both have to be married to move back here.”

  “What’s keeping you away?”

  He shifted his gaze to the tree line and sighed. “Work. Politics. It’s not important.” He sighed. “But the partners are big believers in family, and they wouldn’t frown on me commuting to the office if I was doing it for the best interests of my wife and future children.”

  “You want to live here?”

  He shrugged as if it were that simple. “I don’t know who I am if I don’t live here.”

  She studied him for a long time but didn’t respond.

  “Are you and your boyfriend serious?”

  “What boyfriend?”

  The one you had last time you flat-out rejected me? He lifted a shoulder. “I guess I assumed you were still with that guy you were seeing when Addy was in town.”

  “Oh, God.” She shuddered. “No. God, no.”

  “Any other…prospects?”

  She stared at him for a moment, those brown eyes growing sad. “I don’t ever want to get married, Harrison. Never.”

  “Never?”

  She lifted a shoulder. “I didn’t exactly grow up in the Partridge Family.”

  Of course her childhood would make her gun shy, yet he was filled with the desire to change her mind, to prove life could be better than the one she’d had. Not that she ever seemed to want what he had to offer.

  He looked at his boots. “Why didn’t you tell me you were single again?” There was a rule about asking questions you didn’t want the answer to, and he was pretty sure he’d just broken it. Badly.

  “What?”

  He reached for her hand and toyed with her fingers. “What do I have to do to get you to go on a date with me?” What do I have to do to get you to acknowledge that day ten years ago?

  She opened her mouth, blinked, then closed it. “I don’t need a boyfriend, Harrison. I need a husband. A temporary one, preferably, but a husband nonetheless.”

  He grinned. He wouldn’t be scared off that easily. “Well, I’d like to have dinner first, but we can do things your way.”

  Chapter Five

  Stacey hadn’t been drunk enough to forget—a blessing and a curse. And now, stuck next to him on this long flight to the Caribbean, she could hardly think of anything else. The memory aroused her to the point of pain. The taste of him, the stiff head of his cock against her tongue, his hand fisted in her hair.

  Next to her, he peeked up from his book. “What?”

  God, that smile. “Nothing. I was just…” Wishing I hadn’t insisted on those stupid rules. Wishing our history didn’t make this so damn complicated. Her cheeks burned.

  His grin broadened like he could read her mind. When he leaned toward her, his lips brushed her ear as he spoke. “I hope you’re thinking about last night. I hope you’re imagining all the ways I’m going to stretch the limits of your rules.”

  Pleasure shot through her, coiling tight and painful between her legs.

  He pulled back and settled his gaze on her parted lips. “Because that’s all I can think about.”

  A strangled laugh slipped past her lips. Any fool could see they coul
dn’t exist at this level of sexual tension for a whole year. Even a saint would break. “This is ridiculous, isn’t it?”

  He arched a brow. “Glad you think so too.”

  “Sex just complicates things and—”

  “We’ll figure it out.” He pulled something from his briefcase and handed it to her. A stack of envelopes. “A distraction,” he explained.

  She fanned them out in her lap. “What are these?”

  “Cards from our wedding guests.” He grabbed one and tore it open. Not bothering to read the card, he pulled a crisp fifty from inside. “My family always gives cash for the couple to take on their honeymoon. There will be more than enough here for you to treat yourself to a day at the resort’s spa.”

  Her stomach dropped. “We can’t take this money,” she whispered. “This is supposed to go to a happily married couple.”

  He grinned. “I’m happy.”

  “Harrison, what about—”

  “My family enjoys being generous. Are you going to throw it back in their faces by refusing their gift?” He squeezed her thigh. “And how exactly would you explain?”

  She chewed on her bottom lip. He was right, but this felt like blood money. She knew she wouldn’t spend a penny of it on herself.

  They quietly opened cards, and the experience cheered her. His family was so different than hers and their warmth and optimism were apparent in their scribbled well wishes. She handed all the cash to Harrison and focused her attention on the embossed and glittery cards and the words inside them.

  When she came to a card signed with a name she didn’t recognize as a relative of his, she nudged him. “Who’s Martha Twill?”

  “That’s my boss—one of the partners at the firm.”

  “Well, she is too generous.” Stacey handed over the hundred-dollar bill.

  The smile fell from her face as she read the message.

  Harrison,

  It’s been a pleasure having you at the firm. We’ll certainly miss you there, but we wish you luck opening your private office in Decadence Creek. It’s a beautiful little town, and we know how much you will enjoy living and working close to your family.

  Stacey stopped reading and reminded herself to breathe.

  Harrison was grinning at the contents of another card, his green eyes crinkling in the corners.

  “Why did you marry me?” she asked softly.

  His smile fell and he shifted his gaze to meet hers. “What?”

  “What’s in it for you? Tell me again?”

  He looked around, as if someone might overhear their conversation. As if anyone cared. “We’ve been over this. I want to help you get your house before your father loses it.”

  “No. I mean, what’s in it for you?”

  He stilled. “Originally, my motivation was to dodge the negative office politics of moving out of the city.”

  “Originally?” The drink cart squeaked as the flight attendant pushed by. Stacey almost stopped her and asked for a drink. A stiff one.

  “My plans have changed.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me you’re opening your own office? The bullshit you fed me about office politics doesn’t even apply.” Her mind swam with the implications of his omission. Panic squeezed at her stomach. “There’s nothing in this for you.”

  He reached for her hand. “The more I thought about it…” He shrugged. “It didn’t matter. I wanted to help you. Getting you that house is more than enough reason for this marriage.”

  “I only agreed because we both needed something out of this.”

  He grinned. “I got you as my wife, didn’t I?”

  “I hope you aren’t counting on a happy ending. I can promise, you’ll only be disappointed.”

  Chapter Six

  Harrison was counting the minutes until he could get his wife naked and under him.

  He tuned out the resort’s concierge as he droned on about amenities. He kept his eyes on Stacey’s ass swaying under that light blue sun dress and his mind on what kind of swimsuit she’d packed.

  He’d lost interest in the tour at the golf course—what the hell kind of man wanted to spend his honeymoon perfecting his swing?—and now they approached the chalets lining the beach. The tour was coming to an end, thank Christ.

  “And last but not least,” the concierge said, pulling a plastic key card from his pocket, “your suite.” He unlocked the door and held it open.

  “It’s beautiful.” Stacey’s voice was equal parts awe and dismay as she stepped into the clean, open space.

  Her anger had cooled to a simmer since they landed—no doubt helped by the jovial atmosphere of the island and the very large glasses of champagne the staff kept passing in her direction.

  “Oh, this bed is gorgeous.” She bypassed the small lounging area to run her hand over fat, fluffy pillows. “Satin sheets. And the view.” She frowned in the direction of the picture window.

  “Between the tone of your voice and your words, I can’t decide if you like it or find it depressing.”

  “It’s too much. You shouldn’t have.” Her brow wrinkled and she turned to the concierge. “Is there a second bedroom?”

  The concierge passed his gaze between Harrison and Stacey several times before settling on her. “Um, no. As a couples-only resort, we don’t get many requests for a second bedroom.”

  A flush crept up her cheeks. “He snores.”

  Harrison grinned, closing the distance separating him from his bride. “I don’t plan on doing much sleeping.”

  He pinched her ass and she squeaked.

  The concierge cleared his throat. “Your luggage was delivered and unpacked during your tour. Please contact me if there’s anything I can do to make your stay more comfortable. My extension is on your phone.” With a nod, he was gone.

  And they were alone.

  Stacey twisted her hands and bit her lip, eyeing the door like a trapped animal.

  “I don’t bite.” He brushed the hair off her neck and over her shoulder. He traced the faint line that marked the side of her neck. “What’s this?”

  She shivered softly. “Just a scar.”

  One of many, he thought. He rubbed his thumb over this physical scar, but wondered about the scars he couldn’t see. He leaned forward and brushed his lips over it.

  She sighed. “You’re sending my mind and my body into a fierce argument, touching me like that.”

  “Good.” He could press his lips to hers, test her resolve, taste her sweetness. He could wipe away her composure and replace it with an entirely different expression. “Let me know who wins.”

  Her cheeks bloomed red at the reminder. “Don’t let last night’s limo ride give you the wrong idea. You gave me a pity marriage. It was least I could do in return.”

  His blood cooled in his veins. “What? A pity blowjob?”

  She pulled her lip between her teeth. “No. It wasn’t like that.”

  “What was it then, Stace?” She tried to turn away but he stopped her, tilting her chin up until her deep brown eyes met his. “You don’t owe me anything.”

  “That’s a lie and we both know it. I owe you everything.”

  He dropped his hands and stepped back. “I’m not interested in sexual favors as some sort of payment for this marriage.”

  Her eyes flashed. “I know you don’t like the rules, but you don’t have to be celibate for a year.” She drew in a shaky breath. “If you’re discreet, there’s no reason you would have to…abstain.”

  He clenched his jaw. “You’re kidding me, right? You think this is just about sex? You honestly believe I want you to change your mind because I can’t keep it in my pants for a year?”

  She stepped back and he followed her. “It’s different for guys.” She backed up another step. “I understand that.” Another step and she was against the wall.

  He closed the space between them and leaned over her. “I don’t want sex, Stace.”

  She blinked. “You don’t?”

  His eye
s dropped to her parted lips, that bottom one she continually assaulted with her teeth, that mouth that had moved so hot and greedy over him last night. “I’ve spent the last month acting like you were going to be mine forever. I’ve touched you and held you. I’ve craved you.”

  She swallowed. “It was an act.”

  “I’m not that good an actor.” He traced her bottom lip with his thumb. “Don’t insult me by suggesting sex with anyone would scratch my itch. I don’t want anyone. I want you.”

  When he pulled back to look at her face, her eyes darkened and her lips parted. He ran his eyes down her body. “Just thinking about it turns you on—you can’t hide that. Think about how good the real thing could be.”

  She released a strangled sound he didn’t bother analyzing.

  “Change into your suit.” He nodded toward the door. “There’s a beach out there calling our names.” He tugged his shirt off over his head and reached for the button on his jeans. “We’re wasting daylight.”

  She scurried off to the bathroom.

  “Oh, my God!” she called.

  Jeans half unbuttoned, swim trunks in hand, Harrison ambled after her. He found Stacey staring wide-eyed at the oversized soaker tub.

  “Did you know about this?”

  “You have something against bath tubs?”

  “I’ve never seen…” She licked her lips. “I mean, it’s…” Her eyes flashed to him and back to the tub. “If someone walked in, they’d see everything.”

  “We should all be so lucky.”

  That adorable red flush crept up her cheeks again.

  He took a step toward her, closing the distance between them so she’d have to look up at him. “I envy the man who steps onto these tiles to see his woman sliding a hand between her legs.”

  Her flush turned deeper, embarrassment morphing into arousal. How could she be so scared of sex and so deeply sensual all at the same time?

  He lowered his lips to her ear, whispering now. “I can imagine standing here and watching the pleasure on your face as you take that shower head and let the pulsing water massage its way down your body. Between your legs.”

  “The…” She licked her lips. “…Showerhead?”