Until You (The Redemption, #1)(31)

A creak has me looking back to see Tenny halfway down the steps. “Good night, Maddens,” Tenny says with a chuckle as she heads down the drive toward her house.

Every part of me wants to follow. Wants to finish what I think I’m trying to start.

Every part of me needs to find a damn babysitter.





CHAPTER THIRTEEN


Tennyson




I can’t focus.

On my newest manuscript in front of me.

On the documentary I tried to watch after that.

On the book I tried to pick up only to reread the starting paragraph ten times and still not remember what it said when I finished it.

I can’t focus on shit because there were two times tonight when all I thought about was kissing Crew Madden. Two times when I felt his breath on my lips and the heat of his body against mine. Two times where I had to remind myself that I don’t deserve a kiss from Crew Madden.

It was a lot easier to be restless when we lived in the city. There were things to do and places to go to ease your agitation. An empty Lombard Street to hike up and down when insomnia hit. A tough workout at the gym to work through my thoughts. A late-night diner to gorge on ridiculously bad-for-you food that I’d pay for the next day when teaching my students.

The anonymity was welcome. The diversity of options endless.

But here in Redemption Falls, the only distractions are empty trails through night-darkened woods or a drive into town where your visit will become town fodder.

Not exactly two attractive options right now.

“Tennyson?”

I jump at the sound of the voice and at Crew standing on the other side of my security screen door.

“Crew? Is everything okay?” The words come out in a whoosh of air as I move to the door, noting the clock on the wall reads well past midnight. When I pull open the screen, he’s standing there in the same clothes he had on earlier—swim trunks and T-shirt—hair a mess, jaw slightly unshaven, eyes intense. “The girls?”

“They’re asleep. Locked in the house. Note on the counter that I’m down here in case they wake up. Alarm set.”

“Oh. Okay. Then what . . .” My heart pounds in my chest, the cool night air doing nothing to abate the sudden warmth spreading through my body.

His smile is half-cocked and sexy as hell. “If we’re not going to lie to each other, then I figure I might as well say it.”

“Say what?”

“I’m not sorry.” He takes a step toward me, my hands still on the screen door handle, my head angling up to hold his eyes.

“Not sorry about what?”

His Adam’s apple bobs. “About hugging you earlier.”

“Oh.”

His eyes roam slowly down my body. Each second feels like an eternity as my chills chase his gaze almost as if he’s touching me. When they meet back to mine, the gray of his eyes is a little darker, the tic in his clenched jaw a tad more pronounced. “About wanting to kiss you.”

“Crew.” His name is breathless and sounds weak, but the thought is erased as Crew steps forward, sliding one hand to the back of my head and the other to the small of my back in one swift motion as he lowers his lips to mine.

Crew tastes like mint and desire. His lips are soft. His stubble just enough that its scrape against my skin tells me that this is real. That he is kissing me.

I could say I’m startled by the action, but that would be a lie.

I’m ready for it.

I want it.

Hell, I think I’ve wanted it since that first day I spied on him working in his yard.

And his kiss? It’s the perfect combination of demand and tenderness. Of us both wanting and taking.

I get lost in the sensations while memorizing every single thing about it.

The cool night breeze.

His warm, smooth skin.

The soft groan in the back of his throat.

His hand fisting in my hair.

His thigh pressed between the V of my legs.

The hard wood of the doorjamb at my back.

His heart racing beneath my palm as I run it down to fist in the hem of his shirt.

Crew ends the kiss, his strangled breath of restraint melding with the crickets chirping around us.

We stay that way for a moment—our faces an inch apart, our hands on each other, and anticipation vibrating between us—before he steps back. And not only does he step back, but he jogs down my porch onto my driveway.

“Wait. Crew. What . . . what was that?”

He turns to look at me, that disarming grin owning the parts of me he just heated up.

“I don’t know, but it sure felt good and . . .”

“And . . .”

He scrubs a hand through his hair, that smile of his lopsided now. “And I figure I should give you fair warning . . . I’m pretty fucking sure that just once isn’t going to be enough for me.”

“You already knew that, or was this a decision made on the fly?” I ask as I cross my arms over my chest and lift a brow.

“On the fly.” He winks and takes a step backwards. “I’m quick on my feet.”

“Is that so?”

“It is.” He turns on his heel to walk down my driveway and calls over his shoulder, “Good night, Tenny.”

“Good night, Crew.”

He whistles as he walks, and you bet your ass I watch him until I can’t see him anymore with a goofy grin on my lips and my head in the clouds.