Creed Page 57

“A family.”

My heart lurched and it didn’t feel bad. Not even a little bit.

He kept speaking.

“Just you wait, baby. Didn’t live free and easy. Didn’t feel totally alive. Not without you. But I got my kids and I had somethin’ to live for, work for, keep goin’ for.” His thumbs moved out and stroked my jaws before his voice went rough to say, “Now, I got it all.”

Jeez, he was killing me.

“Shut up or you’ll make me cry like a girl and I never cry like a girl except when I find out my Dad was more of an ass**le than I already knew him to be and the man I loved since I was six was tortured at his hands. Furthermore, crying makes me cranky. I don’t need to be made cranky three hours before meeting your kids. Get me?”

He grinned and muttered, “Got you.”

“Good,” I muttered back.

He leaned in, pulling my head down to kiss the hair at the top before he moved back.

“Go, baby.”

“Right, Creed.”

I got up on my toes to brush my mouth to his. He let me go. I let him go. He opened the door and I hitched the strap of my bag up on my shoulder before I headed out into the furnace.

God. It wasn’t even eight and it already had to be a hundred degrees.

I looked back over my shoulder as I walked down his walk and the heat assaulted me.

Creed was watching me move and Creed was smiling.

Suddenly, I didn’t feel the heat.

Instead, I lifted an arm to give him a finger flick before I jogged to the car, feeling my long hair swaying over the skin of my shoulders and back.

I got in my rental and drove away to take a shower and prepare to meet Creed’s kids and get wet at a water park in extreme heat.

And as I drove away, Creed stood in his open door, letting out the air conditioning and he kept watching me.

All the while, still smiling.

Chapter Sixteen

I Absolutely Do

A cool autumn day in Kentucky, seventeen years earlier, Creed is twenty-two, Sylvie is seventeen…

Creed tore his mouth from mine.

“Sylvie, baby,” he murmured.

Losing his lips, I moved mine to his neck and, I didn’t know why I did it, I just did, I touched the tip of my tongue to his skin.

Oh my.

He tasted beautiful.

“Sylvie!”

At his sharp, rough tone, I dropped my head back to the blanket Creed laid over the grass under the trees by the lake and looked up at his handsome face.

“What?” I whispered and my whisper was breathy.

He stared down at me then I felt his hand cup the side of my face, the pad of his thumb swept my lips and he whispered back, “Give me a break, baby.”

I took in a shuddering breath trying to get my heart to stop beating so hard.

I didn’t want to give him a break. I wanted to keep kissing him. No, I wanted him to keep kissing me. I wanted him to kiss me forever.

Forever.

He was that good of a kisser, for one. For another, he was Creed and he was finally all mine.

I had no idea my face made it clear I not only wanted his kisses but I wanted more. I would find out, in a way, when his hand moved away, he dropped his head and shoved his face in my neck.

“Fuckin’ hell, you’re killin’ me.”

That didn’t sound good.

“I… I…” I swallowed. “Am I doing something wrong?” I whispered.

His head shot up and his hand returned to cup my face as he shook his head. “No, beautiful. No, baby,” he assured me gently. “Maybe we should just take a break from neckin’ for a while.”

This was not a suggestion I liked but I finally got it.

I was making him hard.

Oh my God! I was making Tucker Creed hard!

Me!

Sylvie Bissenette!

Oh my God!

He liked kissing me too, not like I thought he liked it. Like… really. Maybe even as much as I liked kissing him.

Wow.

I liked that.

I tried not to grin but it didn’t work too well. I knew this when his eyes dropped to my mouth, they went funny in a way that made my belly feel funny and also made me bite my lip.

His gaze came back to mine and he muttered dryly, “I see my girl gets it.”

“Um…” I muttered back and he grinned.

“Yeah, she gets it,” he kept muttering then his face got closer. “I dig that you like you can do that to me but just so you know, it feels good, gettin’ excited but for a guy, it can go bad.” He saw it coming, my question, so he lifted up his chin slightly before shaking his head. “Not gonna explain. Not now, baby. Later, maybe. Not now.” He rolled to his back, pulling me with him so I was lying partly to his side, partly on him and he lifted a hand to pull my hair away from my face before suggesting, “Let’s just talk for a while.”

I preferred kissing but I could do that too.

So I agreed, “Okay.” Then I studied his face and fell into the Creed and me that was and would always be. “Is everything okay with your Mom?”

His hand left my hair, his torso lifted up and he got up on his elbows behind him even as I stayed close. Once in position, he rolled his head around on his neck like he was trying to stretch away tension there.

He did that a lot when I brought up his Mom.

She was living with him again. She’d moved out, moved in with a man but they’d got in a fight and now she was back. This, unfortunately, happened a lot. She’d find the man who was the love of her life, date him for a few weeks, move out then move back in when it went sour. Sometimes her being away lasted a few days. Sometimes, if Creed was lucky, it lasted months.

This time, it had lasted months.

Now it was over.

Creed did not like his Mom coming home because he didn’t like her much. He also didn’t like it because that meant I couldn’t come over at night, eat with him, watch TV, neck on his couch before he walked me through the woods to my car that I’d park on the old abandoned lane that went nowhere.

He further didn’t like it because she hadn’t changed. She drank too much, didn’t mind making a mess but did mind cleaning up after herself.

He also didn’t like it because when she got back, she could be nasty. She didn’t get that there was only one Brand Creed. She didn’t get, after years and years and years, that she needed to learn to live with his loss and move on. She just continued to feel the pain and take it out on everyone around her.

Last, she was in and out of work, currently out and Creed worked at the local tire factory. He was union, he told me, so the pay wasn’t bad (I didn’t get this, totally, but I did believe him). But no one wanted to work hard, come home and watch their Momma drink their paycheck while she made a mess and gave him stick (I did get this, totally).

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