He smiled, a devastating, charming smile. “It’s definitely love. I feel like I’ve been waiting my whole life for you to fall out of a truck and into my heart.”
That made her stomach swoop. “And here I’m supposed to be the song writer.”
He laughed. “By the way, I went and saw my father today.”
“You did?” Avery touched his arm. “I know that must have been hard.” He’d given her the impression he hadn’t seen his father in years.
“I needed to lay some things to rest and I did.” His jaw worked. “I promise, Avery. I’ll be a better man.”
That softened her heart. “You are a good man. A decent one.”
He laughed under his breath. “Right.”
Shane looked so deliciously handsome she stood up and moved onto the bench of the booth beside him. She laid her head on his shoulder. “Thank you for being honest with me. I’m sorry again I didn’t tell you about Buck and my mom.”
His arm came around her. “Nah, that was something for you to tell me on your terms. You didn’t owe me the truth yet.” He squeezed her. “That’s some crazy news, but I can see the resemblance.”
Avery breathed deeply.
He kissed the side of her head. “Hey, Avery?”
“Yeah?” She slipped her finger out and rolled it over the sugar as she breathed in his familiar scent, absorbed the wonderful realization that she hadn’t lost him. That she hadn’t lost the man she had come to think of as her best friend. The one she turned to when things were good or bad.
“You’re my first love. And my last.”
Everything inside her melted, and the tears escaped, dropping down her cheeks. She had to admit, she liked this verse of her country song.
Shane stripped Avery naked in her little twin bed in her tiny bedroom. He raised his fingers to his lips, reminding her to be quiet since her roommate was on the other side of the wall watching TV. He could have taken her home to his place, but he hadn’t wanted to wait and her place was closer. He wanted to hold her, to kiss her, to make love to her.
She giggled a little in the dark room. The lamp on her nightstand gave off feeble light, but there was something extra intimate about the dark, the tiny space, the heightened sound of their aroused breathing. He ran the back of his hand over her cheek, her neck, her shoulder, the swell of her breast.
“I love the way you feel,” he murmured. “So soft.”
They were lying side by side, and she had her hand resting on his hip. She slipped those lithe fingers between them and stroked him. “I like the way you feel too.”
He had intended to take things slow, but the way she was staring at him so intently, he forgot his vow to draw out their pleasure. He just needed to join them, to be as close to her as possible. Kissing her softly, repeatedly, he teased his fingers between her thighs, finding her already moist for him.
“I love you,” he said, because he did. The words came easily, without fear. He trusted her implicitly and he looked at her and he saw his future. He saw nothing but this—pleasure and passion and love.
“I love you too.” She touched his bottom lip with her thumb and he was lost in the beauty of her eyes, filled with emotion for him. Him.
Shane rolled onto her, and pushed inside Avery without any thought or warning, just the burning need to complete himself with her.
She gave a soft cry of ecstasy before clamping her lips closed. The roommate. Shane had caused her enough embarrassment for one day. He moved deeply, but slowly, so he wouldn’t pound the bed into the wall. He held her close, he filled her, and kept his gaze locked on hers until her eyes widened with her orgasm.
This. It was everything. He could die a happy man. Not one who didn’t feel things, the way he had before. As one who felt everything with this woman.
THIRTY-THREE
Shane was arguably the happiest he had been in his entire life as he stood on his sister’s doorstep with Avery. All those songs written about love? Turns out there was a good reason. It was fucking awesome to love somebody. It was hitting the jackpot at Vegas to have Avery look at him, love shining out at him. They were doing this, together.
Jolene and Chance’s new house was a rambling country house, rustic and charming. He liked it better than the giant Tuscan-style villa Jolene had lived in before. Jolene had never been to Italy. She didn’t even like pasta. It wasn’t her at all. This suited his sister and his buddy much better. They were in the process of building a pond on the property, and they were always joking about it—some inside joke he didn’t understand.
Giving Avery a smile, he knocked and tried the door. It was locked. Jolene had general security concerns because of her fame and he was glad she was vigilant about it now that she didn’t live in a gated community.
“I’m nervous,” Avery said, wiping her free hand on the front of her jeans. “My palms are sweating. Yesterday was pretty damn dramatic.”
“Everything will be fine.” He still couldn’t quite believe it had turned out his little country cutie was actually Buck Rivers’ secret baby. It made a hell of a lot of sense though, given her looks and her musical talent. She had the genes for songwriting.