All They Need(66)

After dinner, Mel excused herself to go to the bathroom and fix her lipstick. When she exited the house to rejoin the party, she saw that Flynn had moved from their perch on the planter boxes. She scanned the crowd and finally found him talking with Eddy and Rex, hunkered down so that he was on the same level with them. His head was cocked, his expression open and engaged as Rex relayed a story that, based on his hand gestures, seemed to involve lots of big explosions.

Watching Flynn give his all to her nephews, something sharp and painful tightened in her chest.

He was such a good man. Hardworking, genuine, kind, funny. What he was doing for his parents was plain old-fashioned noble, although she knew he would reject the label vehemently if she shared it with him because he was also modest and unassuming. By some miracle he managed to combine all of the above with a quiet confidence that drew people to him as naturally as the moon drew the tide.

In short, he was a special man.

And he wanted her. Not just for sex, either. He liked her. She liked him, too. She liked him in a crazy way. She liked him so much that even acknowledging it in the privacy of her own mind made her palms sweaty with anxiety.

She hadn’t intended to feel this way about a man again. Certainly not so soon. But Flynn was here, and unless she was grossly misreading his signals, he wasn’t going anywhere soon. Which meant that this yearning, almost painful feeling in her chest wasn’t going to go away anytime soon, either.

Suddenly she felt overwhelmed by all the noise and chatter of the party. Picking her way through the crowd, she reached the side gate and slipped through to the front yard. She walked down the driveway and stood on the sidewalk, arms crossed over her chest as she looked out at the darkened street.

The sounds of the party ebbed and flowed behind her. She squeezed herself tightly and reminded herself that once upon a time she’d been brave. She could do this. She could.



She heard the gate open, then the sound of footsteps on the driveway. She didn’t need to turn around to see who it was, but she did, anyway.

Flynn’s face was half shadow, half light, his eyes unreadable as he approached.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she said.

Then, because she was afraid she’d lose her courage and because she’d been aching to touch him again ever since she’d stopped, she closed the distance between them. Three steps, then her breasts were brushing his chest as she angled her head and pressed a kiss to his lips. He responded minimally, almost warily, and she moved closer still, curling a hand behind his neck and licking the seam of his mouth. She could feel how tense he was and after a few seconds he pulled his head back.

“Are you sure?” he asked, his voice low and ragged.

“Yes.” She reached for him again, but he was already reaching for her. His lips found hers, his tongue sweeping into her mouth. One hand slid around her waist, the other cupped her backside, hauling her close. She went willingly, wantonly.

He backed her against the side fence and pinned her there with his hips while he slid a hand inside the warmth of her coat, his mouth never leaving hers. Her nipples were already hard but she gasped her encouragement as his hand slid onto her right breast, his thumb gliding over her nipple. She could feel how hard he was, his erection a solid ridge against her belly, and she slid a hand onto the front of his jeans, gripping him through the denim. He pressed himself against her hand, his own tightening on her breast.



“Mel,” he said against her mouth.

“Yo. You guys. Mom and Dad are about to start the speeches. Quit playing tonsil hockey and get your asses in here.”

It was Harry, calling from the front porch. Flynn lifted his head but didn’t release her. It took her a moment to catch her breath enough to respond.

“We’re coming,” she finally called back.

“Way too much information,” Harry said before disappearing into the house.

She could feel Flynn’s body trembling with suppressed laughter. She rested her forehead on his shoulder.

“Don’t. You’ll only encourage him.”

He pressed a kiss to her temple before taking a step backward. The loss of his body heat was like a blow.

“Come on. Let’s go listen to the speeches,” he said, holding out his hand to her.

She took it and let him draw her away from the fence, aware of a profound sense of disappointment and frustration. Which was nuts—it wasn’t as though they could have made love against the fence in her parents’ yard. They would have had to stop at some point.