Page 48

PIPER

I really hoped Patrick wouldn’t hate what I picked for him. His mother seemed to think I had done just fine, but I was still nervous. It was a lot of money to spend, and I worried he would hate it all or think it was a giant waste.

“Careful with that!” I said worriedly to the movers as they delivered the new dining table.

It was simple, but beautiful. I didn’t pick anything too big, and this table had leaves inside that could easily be folded out to make the table larger.

I figured that was the easiest way to allow him extra room without him having to deal with taking leaves in and out of the table and storing them somewhere else.

“Are you sure about that table?” his mom asked for the fourth time.

I tried my best not to doubt myself. After all, I thought I knew Patrick pretty well, even if I had only known him for short spurts of time.

“I really think we should have gone with the mahogany table.”

“It had a pattern on it.”

“But it was so lovely,” she sighed, clearly unhappy with my choice.

“Trust me, Patrick won’t want a pattern on the table.”

“But what about the table cloths? They’re so plain.”

“He might not even use them,” I reminded her. “Men don’t normally care about table cloths.”

“His father always did.”

“Probably because he knew you cared.”

She smiled at that. “Yes, you’re probably right.”

She wrinkled her nose as someone else walked in with the giant American flag carved into wood that would hang on the wall. “That is not a picture.”

“No, but he’ll like it.”

“I don’t know why,” she sighed.

I knew none of this was her style, but it suited Patrick. I had to remember that. Nearly everything was moved in, but there was still one thing missing, and I hoped it was delivered before he came home from work. I really wanted him to see this when he walked into the house.

“Well, it’s not my style, but you brought life to this house,” Debra beamed.

“I hope he likes it.”

She chuckled beside me, wrapping her arm around my waist. “Whether he likes it or not, I don’t think it really matters.”

“Why?”

“Because all he cares about is you.”

The way she was looking at me—that tender look told me all I needed to know. I’d played my part so well. She looked at me like a mother. God, I’d been fooling this woman all along, and she was nothing but kind to me. This had to stop. I couldn’t keep doing this.

“Debra—”

“Oh, here he comes.”

My head whipped up just as the movers walked out and Patrick hobbled in. The hesitancy on his face was nearly my undoing. What if he hated it all? Had I misread him?

Debra slid her hand in mine, giving a tight squeeze as he looked around at all the new decorations and furniture. My stomach churned with unease as I second-guessed every single choice I’d made.

“I spent too much money,” I murmured.

“Nonsense. I was there with you. I would have told you if you were spending too much money.”

Taking a deep breath, I walked over to where Patrick was studying one of the newest wall hangings. It was a guide to military weapons that I’d had framed. I thought it looked pretty sleek, but maybe he would think it was stupid.

“Hey, I didn’t think you’d be back so soon.”

He tore his gaze from the picture and grinned at me. “I couldn’t stand the anticipation.”

“You were nervous I’d decorate everything with throw pillows and flowers.”

“Nah,” his eyes twinkled. “That’s not your style.”

It actually was my style, but this wasn’t my house. Then again, maybe that’s what he was saying.

“So, this is the new table, huh?” He nodded his head toward the dining room, making his way over.

“Yeah, uh…I thought this would be good because it expands, but the leaves fold into the table. That way, you don’t have to deal with taking out the leaves.”

He nodded, gripping the edge of the table. “It’s sturdy. Cool.”

Cool? I hoped that was a good thing, but before I could ask, he’d already moved on to another picture. I watched as he catalogued everything I’d added, spending more time on some things than others. He stopped at the wooden flag on the wall and frowned.

“Why is it made of wood?”

“Oh!” I rushed around the furniture and pressed the button underneath it. “Because it’s also weapons storage.” I grinned as I punched in the code and the box opened, revealing itself.

“Damn,” he muttered, fascinated with the box. He inspected every inch of it, taking a good five minutes to look it over before he shut the case and moved on.

My gaze flicked to his mom’s. Was that a good damn or a bad damn? She shrugged and pointed to the living room where Patrick was sliding his hand over the new chair I’d picked for him.

“You know I have a perfectly good chair.”

“It’s old and lumpy. I thought you could use a new one.”

My heart hammered in my chest as he moved around to the front and handed his crutches to me before sinking into the chair with a sigh.

“Hell,” he grumbled, kicking up the footrest. “Oh, yeah. I could sleep in this thing.”

I released the breath I’d been holding, grateful he liked it since it was the most expensive purchase.

“So, is that everything?”

“Uh…pretty much.” I was still missing one thing, but he liked everything else. The last one could wait.

“So, what are we doing for dinner?”

His mom scurried away, and he snagged my hand, tugging me around to the front of his chair. With a swift jerk, I was pulled into his lap and he nuzzled my cheek. “Fucking perfect.”

“The decorations?”

“You.”

I melted in his arms, turning to press my lips to his, but got more than I bargained for when he slid his hand into my hair and tugged me tight against him, kissing me hard.

I gasped at the intensity of the kiss, how his tongue stroked mine in a demanding way that let me know exactly what he had in store for me tonight.

Electricity sizzled between us, lighting up my body and crackling like fireworks.

The other noises in the house faded until it was just the two of us.

Nothing else existed when I was in his arms, and I was positive he felt the same way.

I could see it in the intensity shining in his eyes, in the firm set of his jaw as he cupped my cheek before devouring me.

His knuckles skimmed my waist, heating my skin like he always did.

Everything in me stilled, telling me how right this was, how perfect things could be if only I gave in and opened myself to the possibility of more.

But would he? Could he offer me more than what was already between us?

Or would I leave in a few days and never see him again?

I knew now that I could never remain friends with him when my heart was pleading for him to take a chance on me.

Yes, I was fresh out of a relationship, but I knew now that nothing with James ever felt like this.

Not even close. What I had with Patrick was so real and utterly right.

And if he said he could never be with me, I would walk out of his life and do everything possible to mend my broken heart.

But it would never be the same.

The buzzing in my head died down as I pulled back from him.

Bruised lips would remind me of this for days to come, twisting my insides as I warred with the overwhelming feelings rushing through me.

His bright blue eyes met mine, speaking their own language.

I searched for any sign of what he wanted, pleading with him to choose.

Stay or go?

Stay or go?

Stay…

Go.

“Piper?” his mother called out, tearing me from his intense gaze.

“Yeah?”

“I was thinking of making my famous casserole tonight. Would you like to help?”

His hand squeezed my leg, sliding up further to the apex of my thighs. Yes, I desperately wanted that, but I also needed distance and a cooling-down period. I pushed off his lap and smiled at her. “I’d love to.”

His hand tugged at mine just once as I walked away from him and headed into the kitchen. Until I knew what he wanted, I needed to keep some kind of wall between us. My heart couldn’t take another crushing blow.

I spent the next five days getting to know Patrick’s mother. She was amazingly wonderful, teaching me all kinds of things that no one had bothered to show me. Like, how to bake a pie or how to make a really good pot roast.

Not that I had ever attempted to make a pot roast in my life.

But now I knew. She gave me all her little secrets, and I desperately scribbled them down in a notebook, soaking up the information like a sponge.

Patrick watched from the wings, eyeing me curiously, but I just played it off as if I was working my magic on her.

And it had started that way, but over the course of five days, I had grown to love this woman as if she was my own mother.

Yes, she was pushy and kept giving me advice, but since I’d never had a mother to give me advice, I loved every second of it.

And her hugs.

God, I loved her hugs. Every time she placed her hand on my back, I felt a warmth travel through me and ping in the center of my chest. She always looked at me so adoringly that I found it harder and harder to tell myself that this was all for show.

I genuinely liked this woman, and knowing that I was deceiving her hurt my heart.

I didn’t want to get this woman’s hopes up for nothing, especially since I knew just how much Patrick was avoiding relationships like the plague.

I’d tried multiple times to find a way to tell her I wasn’t being honest with her, but every time, I chickened out.

Would she hate me? Would Patrick throw me out?

I felt so pathetic, clinging to a life that wasn’t even mine.

When this was over, Patrick would move on and his mother would still be his.

But me? I’d be on the other side of the country, all alone again.

I stood in the bathroom upstairs, taking a minute to myself as tears pricked the back of my eyes.

This was all coming to an end. Tomorrow, she would go home and the charade would be over.

There would be no more pretending that this was my life or that I would ever be part of this family.

It was amazing how none of that had ever bothered me before.

Then again, I’d never known what it was like to have someone truly care about me in this way.

“Honey, we should start on that apple pie now,” she called out.

I blew out a harsh breath as I stared at myself in the mirror. The tears lining my eyes were a dead giveaway of my sadness, and she’d know as soon as she saw me that something was wrong. How the hell was I supposed to get out of this one?

I wiped the tears from my eyes and jerked the door open, running right into Patrick. I stumbled back a step, but he snagged me around the waist before I could get away.

“Running away so soon?” he rumbled, tugging me against his body.

His hot breath skimmed along my neck as he pressed kisses to my chilled skin, instantly warming me.

“I—” Words escaped me as I fell down the rabbit hole again, searching for a way out but coming up empty. His kisses were like a drug to me, keeping me in his web when I desperately wanted to claw my way out just to survive.

“So eager to get away from me?” he murmured, nipping at my ear.

My body lit on fire as his fingers trailed down my waist, dipping into my pants.

As his fingers skimmed over my clit, my breath hitched in my chest, but my heart hammered out of control.

Those blue eyes held my gaze, forcing me to look into the sparkling depths as he dragged his fingers through my pussy and thrust inside me.

A moan escaped my lips in a desperate plea, to which he eagerly responded, shoving me against the vanity as he leaned his weight against the sink.

“I can’t wait,” he breathed, his fingers slipping from my body.

I cried out at the loss of him as he quickly unzipped his jeans and dropped them to the ground.

Seconds later, he tore my leggings from my body and sheathed himself inside me.

I cried out in pleasure, gripping his shoulders as he thrust in and out, taking me at a brutal pace that had me biting my lip and praying I could hold on.

“So fucking beautiful,” he murmured as his lips latched onto my neck and sucked hard as he gripped my ass and pulled me closer. “Fuck, I can’t get enough of you.”

“Patrick,” I moaned, wrapping my arms around his neck. “Harder.”

He shifted his weight, sliding my leg around his waist as he started pumping into me deeper and faster. Spots danced in my vision with every damning snap of his hips. His biceps flexed with the power of holding me to him, promising to never let go, not until we were both satisfied.

“Why can’t I get enough of you, Piper? What the fuck are you doing to me?”

I bit my lip, preventing myself from crying out that I desperately needed him, that I never wanted him to let me go. Everything was so right when I was in his arms. But in just another day, I would go home, and he would forget about me.

Afraid he would look in my eyes and see exactly what I was feeling, I buried my face in his neck and cried out as his muscular arms tugged me closer, holding me to him as he sank himself into my heat over and over until I was coming apart in his arms. Harsh panting filled my ears as he thrust in one last time and came inside me.

His fingers bit into my hips as he stilled, his heart hammering against mine.

I needed him to leave, to walk away before I fell apart.

But instead, he brushed sweat-soaked strands of hair from my neck and pressed gentle kisses along my jaw.

It was nearly my undoing and I had to drop my eyes to keep him from seeing exactly how devastated I was that this was all coming to an end.

“Hey,” he murmured, brushing his knuckles along my cheek. “Talk to me.”

I couldn’t. Not even his gentle voice could coax the words from my lips. Afraid I would lose it and start crying, I buried my face into his neck again and held him tight. I could feel the stiffening of his muscles before he relaxed and pulled me tighter to him.

It wasn’t what I wanted, but it was all I needed to get me through these last hours.

I was a survivor. I’d lived with shitty, non-existent parents, a fiancé who cheated on me, and I would survive the hurricane that was Patrick.

I would move on and put my life back together, and he would become a distant memory.

I had to. It was the only way to make it out of this alive.