Risking It All (24 page)

She couldn’t lose him, and if she told him she was no longer interested in strictly being friends with benefits, that’s exactly what would happen. She would rather suffocate her true feelings for him forever than risk having him walk out of her life.

The choice was simple. It wasn’t easy at all, but it was simple. Kennedy had to just keep her mouth shut and her feelings buried so deep she eventually forgot about them.

She glanced up at his grinning face and her stomach flipped.

Good luck with that.

Kennedy sighed and tried to shut off her thoughts as she peeked into the fridge. Her stomach growled loudly, making Memphis laugh.

“I guess your stomach approves at least,” he said, reaching to grab the chicken potpie. “You told me once that your grandma used to make the best potpie in the world and it was your favorite. Now, it may not be your grandma’s, but it smelled pretty damn good this morning. I also know your mother can’t cook to save her life.” He winked. “And I cannot remember a single time you’ve ever made it, so I’m betting it’s been awhile since you’ve had it. Also . . .” He set the plate on the counter, reached back into the fridge, and pulled out another covered dish. He lifted the lid with a devilish smile and revealed her favorite dessert: chocolate-covered strawberries. 

Tears stung her eyes. Memories of her grandmother, Gloria, cooking in her little kitchen in the countryside were some of her most treasured. Visiting Gloria during summer vacation had been her escape from her parents’ controlling ways, and for those two months she was free to do what she wanted to do rather than what someone told her she wanted to do.

Sadly, Gloria’s mind was as long gone as those summer days. She had been in a nursing home for the past few years. Kennedy had been sure to make time once a month to visit, but as the years passed and life got busier, the visits became less and less frequent. Even though she knew Gloria’s perception of time was no longer clear, the guilt still ate at Kennedy that she wasn’t there for her grandmother the way Gloria had been for her as a little girl.

“How do you remember that? That was years ago,” Kennedy whispered through the lump in her throat.

“I remember everything you’ve ever told me, Kennedy,” Memphis answered, brushing a tear from her cheek. “Especially the things important to you.”

“Memphis.” Kennedy bit her quivering lip.

“Hey.” She heard him set the strawberries down and close the fridge before pulling her into his arms. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No,” she sobbed into his shirt, soaking the front with tears. “You make everything better, but . . . so much harder.”

Memphis rested his chin on her head and stroked her hair.

“I don’t understand what that’s supposed to mean, beautiful,” he said. “What am I making hard?”

Kennedy sniffed, contemplating how she could explain what she meant without telling him the truth.

“I know what you make hard,” he said before she could say anything.

Kennedy snorted, never more grateful in that moment for his ability to turn something innocent she said into something dirty.

“No more tears,” he said, pulling back and wiping her wet cheeks. “You warm up the food, and I’ll set up a place for us to eat in the sitting room.”

Kennedy waited until Memphis took the strawberries into the other room before grabbing the dish off the island and popping it into the microwave. She twisted the dish towel in her hands, watching the numbers on the display screen slowly count down until the microwave dinged. Carefully covering the edge of the hot dish with the towel, she carried it into the other room and set it down on the coffee table.

Memphis had started a fire and made a makeshift picnic area on the floor in front of it with pillows and blankets. He’d set out the plates and wineglasses and was pouring her a glass of red when she sat on the floor next to him.

“I thought the storm was too bad to go out in,” she said, watching as the liquid flowed from the bottle. “How did you get food brought in?
When
did you get it?”

“This afternoon while you were in the shower,” he answered, setting the bottle down. “I called them early this morning, spoke to the chef about it, and then quickly dashed over there.” He scooped big, steamy heaps onto their plates and smiled at her. “Hope it lives up to what you remember.”

Kennedy put a forkful in her mouth and promptly burst into tears. Memphis eyed her and the food with a totally stricken look on his face. He set his fork down on his plate and pushed it away.

“That bad?”

Kennedy shook her head as she covered her mouth, her crying mixed with laughter at the look on his face and his reaction to her outburst.

“No,” she mumbled around the food, chewing and swallowing before she spoke again. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, wiping the tears from her eyes.

“Don’t be sorry,” he told her. “Just explain.”

“I don’t think I can.” She sniffed and shyly met his eyes. “You doing this . . . I don’t think I can explain how much it means to me.”

“Me feeding you?”

Kennedy giggled at his playful cluelessness.

“Yes, thank you for not starving me,” she responded.

Memphis laughed and picked up his fork again. She watched him eat for a few minutes before following his lead, and they fell into a comfortable silence.

Once they had cleaned their plates, Memphis grabbed a pillow and tucked it behind his back, facing the fire. Kennedy settled between his legs, her head resting on his shoulder—content. He wrapped his arms around her and rested a cheek against the side of her head. The fire crackled, throwing its warmth and yellow glow over them as they stared into it, each lost in their own thoughts.

“Thank you for remembering,” Kennedy said, her soft voice breaking the silence.

“You’re important to me, Kennedy. You’re my best friend. Why wouldn’t I remember the things you’ve told me?”

“No one has ever treated me as good as you do,” she said, staring at the flames. “No one makes me feel as good as you do.”

“Kinda makes you wonder where I’ve been all your life, huh?” he said, quoting what she had told him.

Kennedy smiled and cited his response back to him. “Knowing where you were wasn’t the problem.”

Memphis chuckled and reached for a strawberry. He waved it in front of her face until she opened her mouth and took a generous bite. The sweet taste of chocolate mixed with the tartness of the strawberry burst on her tongue, and she closed her eyes as the foodgasm took over her senses. 

“What was the problem then?” he asked.

Kennedy finished chewing before replying. “You tell me.”

He stayed quiet and Kennedy sighed, aggravated by his shutting down but used to it after all the years of knowing him.

“Do you remember a couple of weeks ago when we were walking on the beach and you asked me if I regretted never sleeping with you?” he suddenly asked.

Kennedy’s breath caught in her throat at the unexpected question and she stilled, afraid if she moved he would stop talking or make a joke about it.

“Yes,” she answered.

“I never regretted it,” he told her, and her heart dropped to her stomach.

If he never regretted it, did that mean he never wanted her? That he never thought of what it would be like to be with her? Had he really only seen her as a friend this whole time? Of course she knew that. He had told her that day that she meant more to him than that. As much as she hated that he hadn’t thought of her that way, she had been grateful he hadn’t made a move and ruined their friendship.

So why were they both so eager to screw around every chance they got? Even if they went home and never spoke of their time together it would always be there in the back of their minds. At least it would be for her.

Every time she looked at him she would remember what it was like to run her hands over his bare skin, to taste his kiss, to feel him inside her. He would never again be just her friend. He was so much more.

And she could never tell him.

For the third time that night tears burned her eyes and she quickly blinked them away, grateful she was facing away from him.

“I know that,” she said. “You told me I was more important to you than that.”

“That doesn’t mean that I never regretted not sleeping with you, though,” he pointed out. “Or that I never wanted to.”

Kennedy’s ears perked up at that.

“Did you want to?”

“Ever since the first day you bumped into me,” he answered. “I never regretted not making a move on you, Kennedy, but I sure as hell wanted to.”

“And when did you stop wanting to?”

“I never did.”

A silly little grin spread across her lips at his admission, but she bit her lip trying to hide it and said, “You’re a very patient man for waiting twelve years. Was it worth the wait?”

Memphis laughed. “Definitely.”

“Do you think we’ll regret this?” she asked, losing her grin.

“I hope not,” he answered back, tightening his arms around her and kissing her temple.

“Why did you tell Bradley I was your wife?” She recalled the first introduction she had with him and that Memphis had never answered the question.

He was silent for a moment and fidgeted against her back as if he was uncomfortable with the question.

“Maybe you don’t remember, but at your apartment that night you said I was more of a boyfriend to you than Brooks. Do you remember that?”

“Yes.”

“When Bradley asked who I wanted to bring, I told him my wife because I figured he’d be more open to that idea. You’re about as close as I’ll have to a wife, anyway, I’m sure.”

Kennedy didn’t know how to respond to that so she stayed silent. They polished off the rest of the strawberries and afterward, Memphis grabbed a blanket and pulled her down beside him. He draped his arm around her waist and she curled her body into his, drifting off to sleep with the sound of the fire and the warmth of his body enveloping her.

~*~

Kennedy woke to Memphis nuzzling his nose along her ear and neck. She kept her eyes closed and sighed, snuggling closer to him under the thick blanket.

“Morning,” he whispered, tickling her ear with his breath.

“Mmm. Morning,” she said, still sleepy.

“The storm is over,” he informed her, kissing her jaw. “We can leave the cabin again.”

“I’ve had no complaints being locked away with you.” She dropped her chin so his lips fell on hers.

Memphis rolled her onto her opposite side so she was facing him and slid his hand down her back, over her bottom, and tugged her leg over his hip. He pressed his arousal against her and moaned.

“There’s nothing that I want more than to stay locked up with you here, but I really have to catch up on the work that I missed doing.” He looked like someone kicked his puppy.

“Pity,” she said, running her fingertip over his lips.

He groaned and pulled away from her before their kisses could escalate into something more.

“Want to change and we’ll see how much snow we have to tunnel through to get breakfast?”

“Okay.”

Kennedy followed him into the bedroom and rummaged through her suitcase for clean clothes. She pulled off her sweats from the night before and slipped into a clean pair of jeans, tugging off her day-old sweatshirt and bra as well. She quickly snapped a new one on in its place and was about to pull on her shirt when Memphis wrapped his arms around her from behind and kissed her bare shoulder.

“I’ve changed my mind,” he said, reaching up to cup her breasts as his mouth moved over her back.

She smiled and closed her eyes.

“About what?”

“Leaving the cabin. We should stay here. Indefinitely,” he said between kisses.

Kennedy giggled and stepped away from him, tugging the shirt over her head and pulling it down to cover herself.

“You’re insatiable,” she told his pouting face.

He grinned and reached for her again.

“And you love it.”

I love more than that.

Kennedy swallowed and forced a laugh, letting him pull her down on his lap as he fell onto the bed.

“Wow. What they said about you in college was true,” she said as he reached under her shirt for her bra clasp.

Memphis’s brow furrowed and his hands stilled as he looked up at her with narrowed eyes.

“Who?”

“The bitter and discarded women of your college days.”

“The what?” He cocked his head to the side as if he heard her wrong and needed her to repeat what she said.

“All the women you bedded and dumped.” Kennedy rolled her eyes at the shocked looked on his face. “Oh, come on, Memphis. You should know girls talk, especially college girls. You were big news for any straight female in those days. Everyone wanted a piece of you, and the ones who got that piece were quickly cast off afterward and left very bitter.”

Memphis gently pushed her off his lap and stood. He walked a few feet away from her before turning to face her again.

“You think I threw away women in college?”

“I wasn’t the only one who thought that . . .” Kennedy frowned. “Why do you think I was so hostile toward you the day we met? I’d heard about your reputation the first day I arrived on campus.”

“My reputation for screwing and throwing away women?” he asked as if he needed her to clarify what she was telling him.

“It’s no secret you have a lot of notches on your bedpost, Memphis. It was years ago.” She shrugged. “What’s the big deal?”

“The big deal is you think I’m a womanizer.”

“No,” she said shaking her head. “I mean, yes, in college I did, before I got to know you.” She paused when she saw the baffled look on his face. “Are you denying you played a lot of mattress tag back then? Or still play it today?”

Memphis pressed his lips together and glared at her.

“See?” Kennedy shrugged again. “It was just common knowledge back then that you liked to have your fun and not be tied down.” She grinned at him and tried to lighten the mood by saying, “And P.S., there wasn’t one bad thing said about your skills.”

Memphis huffed and shook his head as he looked away from her. He stared off into space for a minute before looking at her again.