Coach Love(49)
He threaded his fingers in her hair, parted her lips with his tongue, and nothing existed for her except that moment and the man in her arms. Not Kent or his issues, or his boyfriend or his bitchy, bossy mother, passive-aggressive father or his insistence that she leave her job and life and move to Louisville with him.
Kieran pulled up her shirt, flicking open her bra like an expert before ducking down to get at her nipples. And Lord help her slutty heart, when he popped open her shorts and stuck his fingers down the front of them, she let him do that, too, making noises of delight until he covered her mouth with his palm. Once he’d teased her to orgasm, he replaced the hand over her lips with his as she yanked his zipper down. He came fast, with an exhalation and sigh over her head.
Tears burned tracks down her cheeks and she dropped to her ankles, her knees suddenly unreliable. Wiping her sticky palm on the grass, she sniffled and cursed. He zipped his shorts then tugged her to her feet, folding her into a lemonade, beer, and lusty-smelling embrace. She gripped his shirt and held on tight. A high-pitched female voice floated back to them.
“Kieran? Honey? You here? Dom said you were changing kegs or something.”
Cara jumped away from him and fumbled with her shirt, buttoning her shorts so fast she pinched her finger. Kieran just stood there, hands on his hips, gawking at her like a dunce. He blinked when the voice got louder. A woman, who must be that Melinda Mrs. Love always talked about when referring to Kieran’s woman, appeared in the growing gloom.
Tall, sleek, and put together with her slim skirt and silky blouse, if a bit of out place at an event like this, she had long black hair draped over one shoulder like a model’s. Her icy-blue eyes shone with what Cara instantly recognized as jealousy. The silly, old-fashioned saying her mother used filled her brain: a woman knows when her man is dippin’ his wick in someone else’s candle.
“Well, isn’t this cozy,” Melinda declared, crossing her arms. “You must be the high school sweetie I keep hearing about.”
Making a noise approximating Hi, excuse me. I gotta go find my boyfriend, Cara scuttled past the woman, leaving Kieran to fend for himself. She wanted him so badly it was a physical ache in her chest. But the fact she had a perfectly fine man waiting for her out here somewhere crowded out everything else in her mind. Good thing, too, since it seemed pretty obvious Melinda had come here seeking Kieran.
“No, it’s nothing,” he said loud enough for her to hear. Cara whirled around and caught him staring at her. Melinda had one hip cocked, her long slim legs ending in open-toed heels entirely too dressy for the beer-soaked mud and grass at their feet. Kieran glared at her. “She’s nobody.”
Her face flamed hot and every place he’d touched her—including between her legs—stung. He raised an eyebrow at her then focused on Melinda, reserving his grin for her.
“Sorry, babe. Come on, let’s get something to eat.” He glanced at Cara right before laying an unnecessarily enthusiastic lip lock on Melinda. Cara ran from the scene, realizing she deserved no less.
She, Cara Cooper, had looked him in the face all those years ago and claimed she didn’t love him anymore. She’d best live with it now, face her reality, marry Kent, and pretend for the rest of her life to be happy with whatever arrangement that entailed. The crowd noises rose again, deafening her. Shoving through the laughing, flirting throng surrounding the beer taps, she stopped when she caught sight of her mother at one of the long tables under the beer tent with Lindsay Love, laughing in her usual, annoying, too-loud fashion.
She tried to disappear into the crowd before they spotted her, but Lindsay waved her over. “There she is. Get on over here, Miss Cara,” she called out, sending a jolt of unwelcome memory down her spine. Miss Cara is what both of Kieran’s parents called her years ago, and it had stuck all the way through her and Kieran’s dating years.
Her own mother didn’t acknowledge her, just drank the rest of her beer and waved it in the general direction of the bar. Aiden scurried over to snag it, refilled and returned it to her with a charming smile. She patted the young man’s cheek. Cara winced at the sight of her newly done nail gel wraps, sparkly with glitter in honor of the impending wedding.
Lindsay kept motioning for her, so she plodded over and sat across from the two women.
She accepted the cup that Aiden plunked in front of her on his way to deliver beers to a table behind her.
Her mother reached out and patted her arm then pressed down on it, holding her in place. “I’m so proud of this girl,” she said, glancing over at Lindsay. “Makin’ such a fine catch.”