Wreck My Plans

by Jillian Meadows

It’s an honor to protect the people I care about. But occasionally, I want my own person to help protect me.

But the thing I hate the most? I want Lena’s company more than anyone else’s in the world, and it’s quite possible I will die still wishing for it.

with happiness. That smile is like a drug. Addicting, high-inducing, and deadly.

He laughs, deep and raspy, and my chest lurches. I’ve missed that sound so much. He rarely lets it out, but when he does, it’s like a prize.

My chest warms at the nickname, despite how cold it is outside. That’s the first time I’ve heard it in years, and the sound of it in her sweet, raspy voice makes me want to get on my knees and beg her to say it again.

That fucking lipstick has featured in way too many fantasies over the years. As she pulls down the driveway, I study every detail of her. The smooth curve of her jaw as she checks the mirrors, the movement of the bones in her hands as she grips the steering wheel, the shift in her legs as she pushes the brake.

He remembers my favorite drink without needing to be reminded, smoothly telling the barista, Rosie, exactly what I order every winter: a peppermint mocha.

My moody architect must be antsy to leave.

Finally, he drops his hand and states simply, “I’m missing a home. A place that’s finally mine.”

When I reach Gavin, I set my basket beside his with a dramatic thud and shoot the woman a look that says leave this man alone. I’m not sure where the line is between that and this is my man, but I hope I’m getting it right.

She’s literally kicking her feet on the dash and squealing at whatever the fuck this book is. I can’t even remember the main characters’ names, but I can remember exactly how much squirming Lena and I have done over the course of this drive.

But I shouldn’t be imagining the woman next to me while that scene plays out in my head. I shouldn’t be picturing her on her knees, lips swollen and eyes pinned to mine while she takes me into her mouth.

My heart shrinks a little, and my laughter sobers. “Lena, I want to be your friend more than you know.” I swallow tightly before admitting, “I missed you.”

I want to wrap my arms around her and breathe that laughter right into my lungs and live off it.

Loving her has never been the problem. In fact, it’s the easiest thing I’ve ever done.

I think about you constantly. When I’m in a work meeting with your brother. When I’m at the gym, trying to drown out the sound of your voice in my ears. When I’m eating dinner and wishing you were across from me. When my dick is in my hand and I’m dreaming that it’s you wrapped around it. When something funny happens, I want to tell you about it. It never. Fucking. Ends.

I let myself have one heartbeat to watch her body. I give myself that one second to memorize every curve of her ass and strong thighs. Her toned calves and all the way down to her delicate ankles. Just one flash of an image that I can keep forever. That’s all I get.

A low groan rumbles through him, and I want to swallow it. I want to drown in it. I want to hear nothing but his laugh and that groan for the rest of my life.

Those perfect, plump lips. They’re bare right now, no red lipstick darkening them, but I find them even more tempting. That lush coral pink makes me want to find out if they taste like peppermint right now. And I’m dying to know what they would look like puffy from kissing.

Her raven curls shine in the sunrise through the window as she tilts her head to take another sip. “I missed this. Drinking coffee with you early in the morning when the house is quiet.”

Mine is at the very end, Rudolph’s red nose protruding from it. Bea got me that stocking with my name embroidered across the top on my second holiday here. At thirty years old, it was the first time I ever had one with my name on it. That night, I cried into my pillow as silently as I possibly could.

Her head lands on my shoulder, and she nestles her hand into mine on the couch, twining our fingers together in a perfect fit.

Dark lines of ink cover his back, and I let myself take in as much of the details as possible. I swallow hard as I track the raven covering one shoulder blade, wishing I could feel the feathers beneath my fingers.

Somewhere in the last few moments, I forgot that I was trying to tease him. I may have been attempting to push him over the edge, but I threw myself right over with him.

We’re pulling toward each other like there’s a force dragging us closer. Only a few inches separate us, and our collision feels unavoidable.

She has this magnetic ability to bring everyone into her orbit, and sometimes I want to succumb to it. I want to stop fighting and let her drag me in.

“Here you are, my wife.”

She’s trying to kill me. That’s what this is. She’s trying to drown me in her caramel eyes in front of all these people, and I’m helplessly falling into them.

“The right person would be steady and dependable. A partner who sees you just the way you are and loves every tiny piece. They would need to be a lighthouse for you to come back to after you’ve braved the seas.”

He stares at me with an intensity I’ve never experienced before, like nothing else exists in the entire world.

She’s in my arms, and she’s begging me. This strong, fierce woman is begging me. And all I can think is finally. “Fuck it,” I growl, bringing our mouths together in a gentle kiss.

I grip her hair and pull her head back to the angle I want her. Where I can devour her best.

My heart pounds against my ribs as I slide my hands along her waist and down to grab her warm, smooth thighs. I dig my fingers in and lift until her legs wrap around my waist. “Hold on tight,” I command. With one arm banded across her lower back, I glide my fingers down her neck in a featherlight touch. “You’re so fucking beautiful like this, Lena.”

“These fucking shorts,” I groan, teasing the hem. “Were you torturing me with these on purpose?” “Yes,” she sighs, tightening around my waist. When I slide my fingers under the fabric to grab two handfuls of her curves, I groan at what I find. “For fuck’s sake. Nothing under them, either?”

No, in this photo, we’re looking at each other, his arm around my shoulders and me leaning toward him like I’m a flower growing toward sunlight.

My cheeks are pink as I smirk up at him playfully, and his returning grin is like a secret only I can hear. His eyes are focused on me like I’m the only person in the world, with that little swoop of his mocha waves over his forehead that I got to run my fingers through last night.

“Will you dance with me?” My voice comes out clear as I repeat what I asked him three years ago at this party.

Ten years of hoping the ache to be with him would dull over time. Ten years of wishing I could taste his lips. Ten years of thinking about him in ways I shouldn’t.

She spins toward me, raven curls swinging out around her. In the fire’s glow and the dim lamplight beside the bed, I let myself stare at her. Really take her in. And the sight of her wrenches all the oxygen from my lungs. I feel like I’m drowning. No air left in my body because my lungs are filled with Lena instead.

“I don’t have a swimsuit, and I’m pretty sure you don’t either.” She lifts a shoulder carelessly. “We could just not look at each other.” A laugh tumbles out of me. “I’m always looking at you.”

“I have an idea,” she offers. “Can we pretend for this one night that we can be together?” She lifts her head, drawing another step closer. “We pretend my family doesn’t matter. We don’t worry about where we live. We don’t think about any of the shit standing in our way. We simply give in for one night.”

My gaze jumps between her dark caramel eyes, then down to her tempting lips. God, she probably tastes like sugar cookies and eggnog right now, and my mouth waters to find out.

Without thinking, I press the knuckle of my index finger into the warm flesh right above her thong. I drag it up in a slow line, relishing the goose bumps that peak under my touch. Her skin glows in the firelight, smooth and creamy, and I desperately wish I was doing this with my lips.

“Go get in the hot tub.” My voice is unrecognizable as I pull my hand away. It’s all I can think to say when my brain power is flowing south with all the blood in my body.

I’m walking toward the woman who will be my doom or my salvation.

Gavin looks like he’s starving and I’ve just put a buffet of his favorite foods in front of him. And he’s so tempted. So close to taking a bite.

“Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you.”

“Just tonight,” he whispers against my mouth. He pulls my bottom lip between his teeth gently before releasing it. “One night with my Lena.”

I’m trying so hard to be patient, letting him set the languid pace between us, but then his tongue slides over the seam of my lips. And languid is the last thing I want. I’m craving wildfire.

“We have to slow down. I want to take my time with you.”