Abrupt Changes: A Second Chance Romance (O-Town Book 3) Page 5

  I chuckled and wrapped my arms around his neck. “There’s a visual certain to turn a girl on, Clint.”

  He shot his cockiest grin at me. “Everything about me turns you on, mi reina.”

  I kissed him briefly. “I’m not your queen.”

  His lips trailed down my neck where he murmured, “Oh, yeah, you are.”

  My will to argue with him fell prey to my sex-drive, since his visits were limited to three days, and my visits to Orlando were much the same. For someone who hated cold weather, he was damn good at getting me out of my many layers of winter clothing.

  He pushed me onto the futon and didn’t let me help him with his clothing.

  I pushed up by my elbows. “Clint, let me help you.”

  With a vicious tug, he broke free from his turtleneck and undershirt and surged forward so we were skin-to-skin, or at least our chests were.

  “No time for that, baby.” He shoved his jeans and underwear down, and I gripped his length.

  As much as I hated the long-distance between us, it definitely amped up our sex life. His hand wrapped around mine and guided my strokes for a moment. Then he plunged two fingers into me while he gave me a searing kiss.

  “I need you, baby,” I murmured.

  He grinned. “And I always gotta taste you, baby.”

  Slowly, he took his hand away from me and slid his fingers into his mouth. I had never seen anything hotter in my life. After he took them out, he smirked.

  “Now, you can have me.”

  In two strokes, his cock filed me to the hilt.

  “Yes,” I hissed.

  My hands roved his torso, and I realized the cliché needed updating. Absence made the heart grow fonder, but it also made the couple hornier.

  His lips caught mine, and we kissed for quite a while before I had to get on top. In my eagerness, I got my way, but I also shoved us both off the futon, knocking the wind out of Clint.

  “Sorry,” I breathed.

  His hands clutched my hips and he grunted, “Move, baby. Faster. I’m almost there.”

  That was a first. Normally he made sure I was there, too. It must have been written on my face because he brought his fingers around to my clit and I bounced faster and harder on his cock.

  I climaxed moments before he rammed up one last time and I felt him pouring into me. When I came down, I collapsed on his chest. Our bodies were slick with sweat and I ran my fingers up and down his arm.

  “That was fun,” I whispered.

  “Yeah,” he said, but I didn’t believe him.

  I disengaged from him gently and padded into the bathroom to clean up. When I was done, he used the bathroom, before he joined me on the futon.

  I curled up beside him and he wrapped an arm around my shoulders.

  After a moment, I asked, “Have you thought any more about moving?”

  He sighed. “Don’t need to think about it, Rae. I can’t move.”

  I leaned up. “Can’t or won’t?”

  “Doesn’t matter. I’m not moving. I got family in Orlando, and I’m close with them. Hell, you got family you’re close to in Orlando, too. Why aren’t you moving?”

  My mouth dropped open. “Are you serious? You told me I’d be a fool to turn down the opportunity to work here!”

  He closed his eyes and his jaw clenched for a moment before he spoke to me again. The look in his eyes belied his sincerity. “Yeah, and it’s been a year, Rae. A full fucking year, and what do you have to show for it? You got a job and that’s pretty much it. From what you’ve said about your job, it isn’t everything you had it cracked up to be when you were in college. You live in a fuckin’ shoebox which prevents us from actually fucking like we should, you can hear everyone around you, which means they all heard us fucking, and it’s colder than a witch’s titty here.”

  I yanked the sheet to my chest. “I could say the same to you, Clint! You’re a cop who’s working his way up. Which means you’re pulling long hours, and what do you have to show for it?”

  His rich brown eyes were heated, but not with the kind of heat I liked from him. “One damn thing I have to show for it, is not needing long-underwear ever. I also have my family close by. Who do you have to help you out, Rae? No-damn-body! But you want me to move up here.

  “Do you have any idea how hard it is to get hired on with any police force? Let alone the NYPD? Know you think the world of me, like Mamá does, but there are no guarantees I’d get hired by them. Then we’re both living in this tiny-ass apartment you’re probably paying too much in rent for anyway, and then what?”

  “We’d have each other,” I whispered.

  “Why can’t you move back? There are ad agencies in Orlando. Now that you’ve worked up here, you’d be a shoe-in.”

  I shook my head. “Not necessarily, Clint. But I love it here; and I think you’d love it too.”

  The heat in his eyes cooled. “I love you, Raegan. And more than anything, I’d like you to want more than a job, more than a city.”

  “Clint... what are you saying?”

  He dragged on his jeans and underwear but didn’t speak until he stood up. “You know what I’m saying, but I’ll ask it flat out. What matters more to you, Rae? A job in the Big Apple or a future with me?”

  I hugged the sheet to me. “You said you wouldn’t give me an ultimatum.”

  He threw his hands out. “Things change. I want you for more than three days and two nights every four months. Eighteen months ago, we were talking about how many kids we’d have and whether we’d live in Altamonte Springs or closer to your mother in the College Park area. This isn’t a city where you raise a child, Raegan.”

  I arched a brow. “Funny, I see plenty of mothers with strollers and baby carriers every day.”

  His jaw tightened again. “Fine. I’ll amend. This isn’t a city to raise my child in, Rae. You’re twenty-three, and I want babies, plural. I’d like to spend a few years with you as husband and wife. I’m not leaving my family. Erica’s not even in high school yet.”

  My robe sat wadded up at the foot of the futon. I shrugged it on and stood. “So, it’s your way or no way?”

  The heat kicked off and Clint shivered which set him to searching for his turtleneck. When he had that and his sweater on, he sat down to put on his boots.

  He looked up at me with pain in his eyes. “That shit goes both ways, Rae. Your way or no way... I move or we keep on with this bullshit. Cramming as much sex into thirty-six hours as we can manage to make up for three months of lost time. Sure, the sex is off the charts, but have you considered what things might be like if we lived together. Day-in and day-out? How much better that would be?”

  I crossed my arms on my chest. “Of course, I have, but here, where I don’t have to fight for your attention with your mother and two sisters.”

  His face went slack, and I realized I’d said too much. I loved his family, his mother especially, but they were so close it bordered on suffocating. In some ways I resented it, and it made me feel like an outsider.

  “How long have you felt that way?” He shook his head. “Have you always felt that way? Because you damn sure could’ve fooled me, Raegan. You said you loved Mamá, and God knows, she thinks the world of you.”

  “I do love your mother and your sisters too, but you and your family can be a bit... much.”

  He shoved his arms into his peacoat. “Well, I’m so sorry we’re too much for you. Don’t worry though, chica, we’ll keep to ourselves down in Orlando.”

  I moved in front of him. “Clint, I didn’t mean it like that! It was the heat of the moment.”

  He dipped his chin knowingly. “Yeah. Funny thing about the heat of the moment, it often brings out the truths we don’t even tell ourselves.”

  He stared at me for a moment and I noticed his hand was moving in the pocket of his coat. After a beat, he pulled out a small velvet box. “Was gonna do this up right, but it doesn’t matter now. You know where a Kay Jewelers is around here? Get my money
back, it should cover getting my ass on the first plane back to Florida.”

  Tears filled my eyes and I felt my lip trembling. Clint looked right through me before he walked out the door.

  Clint

  PRESENT DAY...

  I slammed my cell into the hands-free dock and debated who to call first. My gut wanted to get Mamá on the phone pronto, but I needed to have my shit tight before I could do that. While I was angry at Laura, part of me was grateful for her interruption because without it I would never have found out about the damned letter. Yet, she’d be getting a full dose of my ire seeing as that comment was absolutely not on. When did my sister become such a bitch?

  Mamá’s words from last night hit me, and I opted not to call any of the women in my life. If Erica was hooking up with Carlos again, I would drop by... the MO worked for two of the three women in my life, why shouldn’t it work for me? Bonus, if he mouthed off to me, I might get to punch someone tonight.

  I parked in front of Erica’s apartment. She and Carlos were making out on the sidewalk. The slamming of my door broke their lip-lock.

  One look at Erica’s banged-up face and I saw red. I grabbed Carlos by the collar and slammed him onto my hood. “You fuckin’ hit my sister, asshole!”

  He shoved at me and broke my hold. “Not me, pendejo. Her ex. I fucked him up, and now she’s back with me.”

  I faced my sister. She was speaking to me in rapid-fire Spanish. Mamá was from Argentina but immigrated here with her parents. My father hated hearing her speak Spanish and beat her brutally when she spoke it to me or Laura. But he’d left by the time Erica was two, and she picked up the language far more than Laura or me.

  “He tellin’ me the truth? Or have you become our mother?”

  “Fuck you!” she shouted at me.

  “I’d never fuckin’ hit her. I should hit you just for sayin’ that.”

  I glared at him. “Bring it, Carlos.”

  He shook his head. “You check into me again, I’m filing a complaint.”

  I had forgotten about pulling his background the first time he and Erica were together. That had been fun, especially when I saw how irritated it made him that I’d done it. He wasn’t right for Erica then, and I doubted anything had changed to make him right for her now.

  I grinned. “Hard to file a complaint against me, if it’s the Orange County Sheriff’s office investigating.”

  “Fucker.”

  “I believe you were leaving.”

  He flicked his middle finger at me and sauntered over to a beat-up Nissan Altima.

  “You got some nerve, Clint. And you’re spending time with your ex, after all the shit she put you through.”

  “No.”

  Her eyes flared. “Laura says different.”

  These women in my life!

  I shook my head to focus. “Who hit you?”

  “Carlos took care of it,” she evaded.

  “And I’m gonna take care of it again, Air.”

  “Don’t. It’s done.”

  “Erica.”

  “He’s bad, Clint. I learned my lesson. It’s over. Leave it.”

  I rolled my tongue around my teeth. “It better be.”

  “Why you spending time with Irish again?”

  I crossed my arms. “Not spending time with her. I’ve been checking in on her mother.”

  “You probably ought to stop that.”

  “You probably ought to stop seeing Carlos.”

  She shot a snide smile at me. “Talking to mother, I hear. Tell you what I told her. We’ll agree to disagree.”

  I sighed. “We love you.”

  She nodded.

  “And for fuck’s sake, you should’ve called me when that asshole hit you. Christ! Did Mamá see you like that?”

  She grinned. “Ha-ha! I’m better at evading her than you are, big brother. You could learn a thing or two from me.”

  “I’m sure I could. Be good.”

  She kissed my cheek before I left, and I sat in my SUV until I saw her flick her light three times, telling me she’d locked the door behind herself.

  I CALLED MAMÁ WHEN I got home. Talking to her while driving wouldn’t have been good for either one of us.

  She picked up on the first ring. “Beginning to wonder what was taking you so long, mi hijo.”

  I smiled at the wall. She broke out the Spanish endearments for me when she was in the wrong. Which meant Laura told her all about the drama, but Laura didn’t know I knew about the letter.

  “I get an hijo tonight. How come?”

  “I shouldn’t have spoken to Laura about it.”

  To keep from pacing I stopped at the kitchen counter. The Bushmills stood like a small tower begging me to tip it over for a shot. Shaking my head, I turned away.

  “How much of it did you talk about to her?”

  She hesitated. I pictured her eyes turning hawkish, because she always did that when she realized one of us knew something she didn’t want us to.

  “What are you asking me?”

  “Laura know about the letter?”

  “Letter?”

  “Yeah. The letter. Or just Raegan and Penny?”

  She sighed. Then she muttered in Spanish. Since Dad beat me every time I was trying to learn the language, I seemed to have blocked a fair amount of it, which pissed me off. More than anything I wished I could grasp my second language, but the brain is a powerful muscle. Still, I made out the word for letter and plenty of female pronouns.

  “Her mother forced her to tell me about it, Ma.”

  “De verdad,” she muttered.

  That was one of her favorite words, and one of the few which stuck with me. Verdad literally meant the truth, but with the word de it meant ‘really’ and she used it frequently.

  “Yes. And I’m stunned.”

  “Stunned?”

  “Sí. You spent hours teaching me to never toy with a girl. Never go out of my way to break her heart. If things were done, I had to be the man and say so. Never let someone else do my dirty work.”

  “She did you dirty,” she hissed.

  “Not really. But, Mamá. All my life, you taught us to control our tempers. Yet, you lashed out in your own temper. Went out of your way to hurt her.”

  Her disgruntled sigh said it all.

  After a moment, I said, “Apologize.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said quickly.

  I shook my head. “Not to me.”

  “I will not.”

  “Mamá.”

  “I won’t,” she chirped.

  “Okay,” I said.

  She sighed. “Don’t be that way.”

  I grinned. “Don’t be what way? I just said, ‘okay.’”

  “With the disappointment and giving your own mother the guilt.”

  I shook with laughter but kept it silent. “Just a word, Ma.”

  “I’ll think about it.”

  “Fair enough. I’ll let you go.”

  “I love you, mi hijo.”

  “Te amo, Mamá.”

  Chapter 6

  Comfort Junk Food

  Clint

  I DIDN’T KNOW WHEN Mamá would apologize to Raegan, but I knew she would.

  I didn’t know how long Penny planned to wait for Raegan and me to catch her hint, but I knew she needed to be set straight.

  The letter she sent me came at the same time Raegan separated from Garrity. No way Penny could know she’d have a stroke, but she’d damn sure known her daughter was getting out of that marriage. It would be a long shot if her goal were to get us back together, but Penny was nothing if not a woman who gambled the long odds and shot the moon every chance she got.

  Funny thing was, she caught the moon and won those long shots most of the time. With a twinkle in her eyes, she’d told me years ago she had a horseshoe up her ass. The first time I thought she was joking. Every time after, I realized she meant it.

  Yes, the Connelly women were crazy. Once upon a time, I was crazy about them.

/>   One of them wasn’t crazy enough about me.

  I shook my head. Those thoughts had to stop.

  You’re gonna let her get away.

  I deep breathed to get rid of the errant thought.

  Damn fuckin’ sure never good to let the one who is meant for you to get away. So, take care of that shit.

  Of all the times for my past words to come back to me, it had to happen now...and those words in particular. Fuck.

  Mamá warned me to stay away from her, and my own damn words were telling me not to let her get away. I leaned my head back on the headrest, waiting for Sullivan to join me in the car.

  After a moment, the passenger door opened, and Brock buckled into his seat. “More of Dry-Cleaner Man?”

  I looked at him with a grin. “Yep. Is this you crying, ‘Uncle?’”

  His blue eyes went steely. “Not a fuckin’ chance, Ramsey.”

  I smirked. “Just checking.”

  By the time I parked the company sedan in the strip-mall parking lot, Brock had downed a good portion of his coffee.

  I expected another day like yesterday, but I should’ve known better. When Slagle took his break, he didn’t amble down to the Domino’s store front. He bee-lined it for his vehicle and I had to wait on a pretentious asshole to back his SUV into the space next to us before I could motor to the exit.

  “Shit! Did the tires squeal?” Brock asked.

  “No,” I growled.

  Two cars passed before I joined the flow of traffic behind our man. The surge of discomfort I felt blended with the familiar feel of adrenaline, which set me at ease. I liked feeling things that were incongruous with one another. Love mixed with hate. Dread meets anticipation. That yin and yang made me tick in the best way.

  Like Raegan.

  Goddammit!

  “Lay off, man,” Brock said.

  After a blink, I realized I was right on the bumper of the car behind our man. I let off the gas and rolled my shoulders.

  The vehicle in front of me made a left, and I followed Slagle two miles down the road before he made a left. I knew the turn signal at that light took forever, so I breezed past him.