Vivian Arend - Turn It Up

There was nothing he had wanted more than to have a future with Tasha, and that future seemed to be arriving as ordered, and he was the luckiest bastard around. Now if he could just get her to fall in love with him, things would be perfect.

She’d seen him approach. Even as she read the familiar story, Max’s broad shoulders and distinctive walk had caught her eye. Just before he’d turned away, a moment of doubt struck—the worried expression that had crossed his face seemed out of place. He’d seen her with the children. Was it only hitting him now that this would be their life in a very short while? Full-time parenthood? She finished the book, kissed the top of the little one’s head, and passed him back to one of the teenage girls gathered in the area who were in charge of the children until dinner.

She caught up with him as the announcement was made for everyone to make their way toward the table. He pulled her close as a stream of hollering children raced past them down the narrow hall, and the comfort and familiarity of his body felt so right.

They had only a few minutes as the chaos settled in the great room.

“Hey. What’s up?” Tasha slipped her hand along his cheek, holding him for a minute.

He kept her trapped against him, even though the hall emptied out, his hands resting on the top of her hips. “Let’s see. I don’t like my sister’s boyfriend, there’s turkey and ham for supper, but no sweet potatoes because two of the family got their names mixed up in the email, and you smell delicious.”

His mouth brushed hers and she smiled even as she responded with a quick kiss of her own. But that wasn’t enough of an answer. “You seem distracted.”

He snorted. “You’re in my arms. Distraction at its finest.”

“That silver tongue is working well tonight, I see.”

Max rumbled, a sexy sound deep in his throat that made a shiver thrill up her spine. “I can show you exactly how well my tongue is working later, if you’re interested.”

Oh yes, now she was the one getting distracted. Max slipped his fingers through hers, drawing her to his side for a second and kissing her neck before leading her to a chair. As the rattling of plates and noise carried through the meal, he kept one hand constantly touching her.

Whatever had made him run and hide, she wasn’t going to ask. Tasha took in all the smiling faces down the long length of the table and gave thanks she was able to be a part of the family.

Max brought Tasha back to Gramma’s house a couple days after the big family gathering so they could tell her their news in private. Her enthusiastic response was exactly what he’d expected, and seeing the flush of delight on Tasha’s face made it even better.

Unfortunately, his timing was bad, and they barely had a chance for a cup of tea before the visit was cut short. Gramma kissed him and Tasha, then took hold of Uncle Maxdean’s arm, using him to help negotiate her way down the wide front steps. She spoke as she walked, her voice clear and strong as always. “Now I want you both to come back another day when I don’t have to run off. Tasha, I’ll be sure to find those albums I promised. And don’t you fuss about looking around the place without me here. Make yourself at home.”

“Love you, Gramma,” Max called after her.

“I know, but it bears repeating,” she called back and he laughed, leaning on the doorframe. Their standard response, filled with the familiarity of love.

When he turned, Tasha stood beside him, contentment etched on her face. “She’s amazing. I’ve always loved visiting with her, and to think I’m now related to that wonderful woman makes me warm, no matter how cold it is outside.”

Max shut the door before pulling her against him. He couldn’t seem to get enough of touching her. Holding her close. “You made her very happy yourself just now, telling her about having another great-grandchild on the way.”

“She did seem pleased.”

“Pleased? I thought she was going to get up and dance a jig, she was so excited.”

Tasha smoothed his hair, running her fingers along his nape and his motor revved. She definitely seemed to be over the bump in terms of not wanting to be touched. It was making his plans for romancing her and trying to build a stronger connection between them both easier and harder. Easier, because she was willing to spent lots of intimate time with him. Harder—well, there had to be more to their relationship than sex, but that was difficult to explain to his body.

Her face lit with excitement. “You ready to show me around? That was sweet of her to offer to let me take a peek around when she found out I’ve never really had a chance to explore the house. Especially since she already had an appointment.”

“I honestly had no idea she had other plans today, or I would have arranged our visit for another time.”

Tasha pulled him toward the stairs, her fingers threaded through his. “That was a long-enough visit. We just had Christmas dinner two days ago, and you know there will be a ton of other family events over the next weeks.”

Then Tasha got lost in architectural design, admiring the construction and details of the old family home. He followed her from room to room, loving the exclamations of delight that escaped as she found some new feature that she’d studied about but never actually seen before. They went through every room in the house on the first and third floors. They skipped the rooms that his grandmother still used on the second floor—the master bedroom, and a couple others that contained her personal effects.

Three hours later he still had a grin on his face. Tasha’s enthusiasm flowed out of her in a constant stream as she shared ideas for slight modifications to their house under construction. He tugged her into the kitchen and pressed her onto one of the tall stools before handing her a glass of juice. She sipped without thinking, then blinked in surprise. “Oh, that is good. My mouth was so dry.”

Max grinned. “That’s what happens when you talk for hours straight.”

She glanced at her watch. “No. Way.”

“Way. I didn’t think you had it in you, to be that kind of chatterbox. Well, except when you’re very tipsy.” He stepped around to rub her shoulders, the tight muscles relaxing under his hands as she leaned back into him.

“Don’t nag about that. But you should have said something when I lost track of time. I didn’t mean to waste your afternoon.”

He slid his thumbs along the tendons in her neck and she moaned. His body tightened at the sound. “It wasn’t a waste at all. I told you, this entire week is a holiday for me, and I want to spend it with you.”

The height of the stool forced her to look up at him as she twisted to face him, her cheerful face a pleasure to witness. When she wrapped her arms around his waist, his body nestled between her open thighs. It was comfortable and easy and her smile was real.

Then that damn shadow intruded again. He swore he saw it—as if a physical cloud actually rolled between them. She shifted her position, lowering her hands to rest on his hips, pressing her body away from him slightly.

“That’s sweet of you. I enjoyed your company. I guess we should head home soon.”

What the hell? All the ease of her flowing conversation of the past hours disappeared into awkward phrases that were completely unlike her. Tasha stood, brushed past him and moved toward the door.

“What’s wrong?” He hurried after her, worried about both her and the baby.

Tasha shook her head. “Nothing. Should we go?”

“Are you sure? Do you feel okay?”

“I’m fine. But we should go.”

Max scrambled for inspiration. Whatever weird thing had just happened, he wasn’t going to let it disrupt the good memories of this day. “I wanted to show you something.”

She checked her watch again. “You’re sure you don’t have anything you need to do?”

He forced himself to laugh as naturally as he could, even as his mind raced to figure out what was wrong. “Tasha, I’d swear you were trying to get rid of me or something. Come on, I have nowhere to be, and neither do you. Indulge me. Please?”

She accepted his hand, and he led her back onto the porch, walking slowly along the wide covered veranda that wrapped around the entire house. He kept their hands together, rubbing his thumb lightly over the back of her knuckles. To their left, the surface of the small pond rippled with tiny waves, the slight wind disturbing the surface. The trees swayed, and when she shivered, he pulled her under his arm. Around the first corner the wind died away, blocked by the house, and he pointed to the massive porch swing. “Our destination.”

The firm cushion on the oversized bench seat sank only a little as they arranged themselves. Tasha sat primly at his side, her hands lying in her lap as she gazed at the land surrounding his grandmother’s home.

He rested his arm along the top of the bench seat, drawing circles on her shoulder lazily as he got the swing rocking. Max kept silent, spinning through their conversation in his mind, everything they’d done since arriving at the house, but he couldn’t think of a single thing that would have made her turn formal all of a sudden.

Screw it. He nuzzled under her ear, kissing her neck. If she wanted to be stiff, he’d find a way to relax her. Tasha arched her neck, opening up to his touch, and he smiled against her skin. Even if there was something going on in her brain he didn’t understand, he had learned enough to push her hot buttons. Her remaining tense wasn’t going to make her any more open to confessing what was on her mind. Keeping the swing moving with a gentle motion, he twisted to face her, leaning across her body to slip his fingers into her hair and cup her neck.