He moved in and then his arms were drawing her in, head swooping down.
Yeah, not how she’d thought she would end her day.
* * * *
He knew it was a mistake, but he couldn’t stop himself. He’d come here to talk to her, to gently start opening the subject of why they should consider moving their friendship into a more romantic place.
Romance. He hated that word. He didn’t understand the word. His parents hadn’t been overly demonstrative people. They were practical. His dad once bought his mom a vacuum cleaner for their anniversary, and she’d cried tears of joy because she’d wanted it so badly. Of course, she’d bought him a new tool kit, so no romance there either.
Sometimes he wished it had been River he’d fallen for all those years ago. River was the kind of woman who told it like it was and appreciated practicality. Lucy needed a softer hand.
Soft. She was so fucking soft. He kissed her, half expecting her to shove him away and laugh in his face. Instead, her hands went to his waist and she sighed, a sexy sound that made his dick jump.
How long had he waited for this? He hadn’t been ready in high school, hadn’t been willing to take the chance that they wouldn’t work out in a long-distance relationship, hadn’t been willing to potentially lose her. He’d been so dumb, and if he could go back he would kick his high school ass and they would have had all these years together and he wouldn’t have this aching regret inside him.
He shoved the thoughts away. All that mattered was the fact that she was in his arms now. She was responding to him, and that was the important thing. The past didn’t matter. The future was bright as long as he had Lucy.
He dragged her closer, feeling the way her breasts crushed against his chest. She fit perfectly in his arms, the way he’d always known she would. He locked her against him with one hand and found her hair with the other. She always kept it up when she was working, tying it back with a scrunchy which he pushed away, freeing all that soft, glorious hair. He dreamed about it at night, about getting caught in it and waking up with it tickling his skin, reminding him he wasn’t alone.
Lucy. Luce. His friend. His love. His everything.
She pulled away. Well, as much as he would let her, she pulled away. “Ty.”
He shook his head. “No. Don’t talk. That was my mistake. We don’t need to talk.”
He kissed her again, and this time her mouth opened, allowing his tongue to slide against hers. Pure desire raced through his veins. All he had to do was push her back against the wall and he’d press himself against her and find the relief he’d needed for years. It didn’t matter who he slept with. He found no real comfort in the act because his lovers hadn’t been Lucy.
He forced himself to slow down.
He wasn’t taking Lucy in the back room of the bar she worked at. Damn it. She wasn’t some quick hookup where both parties were only interested in a moment of pleasure. He’d been grateful to them all, but none of those women had been the right one. None of them had been her.
She was Lucy. He wanted so much more from her. She was the one.
He pulled back. This was precisely why he’d decided to go the slow route. He hadn’t meant to push her so hard and fast. “I’m sorry, baby. I meant to make sure you got home okay and maybe come in for a drink. I didn’t mean to go this fast. I skipped about five steps.”
She was breathless when she stepped away from him, a high flush to her cheeks. “Steps?”
He hadn’t meant to mention that either, though maybe she would take him more seriously if she knew how carefully he’d planned things. “Steps to make you see me in a different light, to make you see we’re meant to be together.”
She smoothed back her hair. “We are together, Ty. We’re together all the time.”
He needed to make himself plain. He couldn’t let her think for a second that he’d gotten horny and she was handy. “Not like that. Together together.”
He was slightly offended by the look of horror that washed over her pretty face.
“Don’t be ridiculous, Ty.” She laughed but it was her nervous laugh, not the full-throated one that he loved to hear. “You don’t get together with anyone for more than a night or two.”
Yes, at least she understood that much. “No, I don’t date. I don’t date because I’m in love with you. I’ve loved you since we were kids. I think I loved you since that day in the fourth grade when you shared your lunch with me because I forgot mine and you made sure I got a little more of the sandwich because you were worried I would be hungry with only half.”