Chapter Twenty-Six
One year later
Rafe stuffed the cardboard box into the small recycling bin stored on the side of the brick townhome he and Alexa had purchased. The up-and-coming suburb in Virginia was newly built and occupied mainly by young professionals. Many of the neighbors were couples with small children.
After moving in nearly a month ago, Alexa had finally unpacked the last carton containing the serving bowls and blender she needed for the cookout they were hosting that afternoon. Rafe trekked across the small, fenced-in manicured lawn and climbed the two steps to his own deck. The tables with folding chairs he’d borrowed from Escapade formed an L in the corner. She had spruced them up with white tablecloths and purple, white, and yellow floral centerpieces. He checked the propane tank on the grill in the other corner, then went through the French doors.
The fresh paint smell had faded to the pleasant lemon lavender spray Alexa had used on the light-blue pillows on the cream couch and matching side chairs. Glass-topped furniture melded into the seating area situated on the light-colored tiles. Sunlight gleamed off the gold-framed photos sitting in recessed shelves next to the fireplace built into the wall. She’d even managed to get a picture of his parents holding him as a baby from his dad.
With her encouragement, months ago, he’d read one of his father’s letters instead of tossing it in the trash. In it, his father had written that he’d embraced sobriety three years ago. He’d also shared about the day he’d received the call that his wife, Rafe’s mother, was dead but that his eighteen-month-old son was still alive. His father had to sell his tools and borrow money for a plane ticket to fly to him in California. When he’d arrived at the hospital, his father had written how it had felt like an anchor to hold him in his arms. Carl hadn’t wanted to let go of him, but caring for a child had terrified him just as much as the thought of losing him.
A mix of sadness and hope filled Rafe’s chest. He’d lived believing his father had never wanted him, but he had. His father had dealt with his grief and his fears by holding a bottle close and keeping him at a distance.
After he read the letter, he contacted his father. They started talking on a regular basis, and now they were slowly building a new relationship. Forgetting what his father had done to him would never happen. Forgiving him and releasing the baggage was something he had to do if he wanted to move forward with his life. And he did…with Alexa.
Rafe couldn’t stop himself from running his hand over the lower left pocket of his cargo shorts. He traced the outline of the engagement ring he’d been carrying around for a week. Was the party the right moment to propose? Alexa was nervous about the gathering, and so was he. This was the first event they were holding in their home with his father, her parents, and their friends. Like Alexa, he just wanted everyone to get along and enjoy themselves. But it would also be one of the few times everyone they cared about would have a reason to gather in the same place.
Across the living room in the adjacent kitchen, Alexa arranged cut vegetables on a round, clear plastic tray on the black marble counter and talked on her phone. Her yellow T-shirt enhanced the slight flush of exertion in her cheeks. “Dad, please tell her that’s the convenience of buying ready-made. It’s already done. Yeah. Uh-huh. Trust me, I know. See you when you get here.” She disconnected the call and tucked the phone into the back pocket of her jean shorts.
Rafe joined her in the kitchen. He munched a celery stick and leaned back against the counter. “What’s up?”
“Dad called and asked what they could contribute to the cookout. I sent them to pick up a couple of items from the grocery store.” She covered the tray with plastic wrap then carried it to the stainless steel refrigerator near the corner. “Apparently Mom is freaking out over the concept of buying premade potato salad in a container from a grocery store.”
“You mean the one I like, made with mustard and bacon?”
“Yep.” She gave him an apologetic look. “Sorry. You may end up with the gourmet kind. She’s conferring with the chef she knows at one of the hotels downtown. At least she agreed to make the peach pie.”
“I still can’t imagine your mother with flour all over her hands. Are you sure she’s actually doing it herself?”
“Of course she is. It’s my grandmother’s recipe, and she promised. Have you talked to your dad?” As she bent down to look inside of the refrigerator, the hem of her shirt rose, revealing smooth skin.
“He’ll come over from the motel in a couple hours.”
“I don’t understand why he wouldn’t stay with us.” Her butt wiggled as she rearranged containers of chicken kabobs and steak, ready for the grill.
Rafe pushed away from the counter. “I think he didn’t want to intrude because we just moved in.”
“Okay. But make sure he knows he’s welcome anytime.”
When they’d spent the night with his father in Michigan, she hadn’t looked down on his dad or the cluttered yard and worn furniture inside the house. She’d embraced his father with genuine affection and made herself at home.
Home. That’s what Alexa was to him. After she stood and closed the refrigerator, Rafe spun her around by the waist and brought her close. “Thank you.”
She smiled. “For what?”
She was so damn beautiful, all he could do was stare at her a few seconds longer. Alexa could have any man she wanted. How had he gotten so lucky to have her? He brushed his mouth over her lips. “For doing all of this.” He kissed her again. “For being you.”
He captured her mouth fully. The feeling of her curves pressed up against him blocked out everything but desire. Control slipped, as it often did, and suddenly he was tearing at her zipper and she was tugging up his shirt.
She held him back. “No. We can’t.”
Far from ready to tamp down need, he brought her flush against him. “The food’s prepped. We’ve got at least an hour before everyone is supposed to be here.”
Alexa avoided his kiss. “I didn’t say we couldn’t indulge. Just not in the kitchen or the bedrooms. I just tidied up.”
“Oh.” An idea popped in his mind, just as her face lit up.
She blurted out what he was thinking at the same time he did. “The office.”
They rushed down the hallway and into the first room on the right. As soon as they got inside, they stripped off their clothes in front of the wood desk.
He nudged her down onto the couch. Longing for the taste of her, he widened her legs and kissed up her thighs.
She sighed out a moan as he delved his tongue inside of her. Between each successive glide, he traced a pattern around her clit, focusing on what made her belly quiver beneath his palm.
“Yes… Right there. Right there.” She lifted to meet his mouth.
He sucked the engorged bud, then fluttered over it with his tongue. She cried out her orgasm.
Rafe grasped her hips and sank home.
Her impatience mirrored his as she clamped her legs around his waist. He pumped into her. Each hard clench of her around him radiated heat into his cock. It poured off Alexa as she climaxed.
Control incinerated, and Rafe’s release slammed into him. His world exploded as he buried himself inside of her.
Minutes later, the sensation of Alexa’s legs sliding down his back prompted him to rise to his elbows. Caught by her smile and the emotional and physical connection they shared that he never wanted to end, he gave her a tender kiss. “Marry me.”
“What?” Alexa’s eyes widened. “What did you say?”
He stroked a tendril of hair from her cheek. “I love you, Alexa. Be my wife. Marry me.”
Happiness flooded her expression. “Yes!” She flung her arms around him. Her exuberance almost knocked him off the couch.
He moved away from her long enough to pull on his boxer briefs and retrieve the ring from his pocket.
She snagged his shirt from the floor and scrambled into it.
Rafe knelt in front of her as she sat on the edge of the cushion. He slipped the ring onto her finger, then kissed her palm.
Her eyes grew bright as she stared at the simple solitaire.
Relief. Rightness. A coming together of his life. They swelled in his chest.
He rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand. “Do you like it?”
“I love it.” Alexa smile softened as she laid her forehead to his. “But not as much as I love you.”
Did you love this Brazen? Check out more of our steamy titles here!
Don’t miss another book by Nina Crespo! Sign up for the Brazen newsletter here.