Everything She Never Wanted

Chapter 5

5

Henry was kissing her. Actually kissing her. Cynthia didn’t know what to do. If she should kiss him back like she ached to do, or if she should push him away like she knew was right to do.

His arms tightened around her, and his scent engulfed her. She was lost.

There wasn’t a choice once she breathed him in. She’d wondered for long enough what it would be like to kiss him, how it would feel, what he would taste like. With the answers to her questions at the tip of his tongue, literally, she wasn’t strong enough to deny either of them.

She could feel how much Henry needed her. How much he wanted her. She’d be lying if she said the feeling wasn’t mutual. It had been too long since she felt like someone wanted her, and not the reporter. With Henry, she was just Cynthia. And she liked that.

His tongue brushed her lips as she parted them to get a taste of him. Her tongue ran along his, muddying her brain and demanding that she give in to whatever he wanted. Whatever he needed. She hooked her thumbs in his belt loops and held on. Their tongues teased and tasted each other. The wine was different coming from him, better even, and she felt herself sinking deeper into Henry.

Henry that she loved.

Henry that she never thought she’d see again.

Henry that was her best friend.

Henry that she didn’t know anymore.

She felt like she was back in high school, or middle school, experiencing her first kiss. A boy she barely knew. A kiss that made her head spin. A desire that was new and fresh and exciting.

When he pulled back, almost suddenly, Cynthia wasn’t ready for their kiss to be over. She still held him, her arms around his waist and his around her shoulders. She felt safe and protected within his embrace. But his eyes burned into hers, reminding her that the boy she knew had grown into a man she didn’t know.

Henry didn’t say anything. Didn’t explain why he kissed her. Didn’t apologize for assaulting her mouth and stirring her senses and making her wish they could finish what they started. He just turned and checked on the food in the oven and sipped his wine.

She wanted to say something, but words failed her. As a journalist, she’d never been at a loss for words before. It was a new feeling, but she was quickly learning every feeling was new with Henry.

Cynthia leaned against the counter and drank her wine. It was good, sweet and crisp and delicious, but she didn’t like it after tasting it on Henry’s lips. He added something to it. A fullness and depth that the wine on its own was missing. She wanted to kiss him again, but she knew it was a bad idea.

Not that she’d ever been good at avoiding bad ideas.

“I hope this is okay. I didn’t really plan well for anything. And Zach is usually the one who cooks.”

Cynthia stepped forward, buoyed by him speaking to her, and not telling her to get out. She smiled and nodded. “It’s great. I’m not picky.”

Henry ignored her as he divided up both portions, enough food to feed at least another person, if not two. He added a piece of chicken Parmesan and a healthy scoop of baked ziti onto each plate and handed one to her. He nodded toward the couch and followed her.

“We should really get a table,” he said.

Unsure if he was trying to start a conversation or just talking to himself, Cynthia said, “I always liked eating on the couch. Mom insisted on eating at the table, still does, but Friday night we would sit on the couch and eat breakfast for dinner. Now it’s coffee and donuts most of the time instead of pancakes and milk, but it’s nice to break the routine once in a while.”

“Is your mom still at the library?”

Cynthia nodded. “I don’t think she’ll ever leave. She loves it there. Of course, she’s still young so she isn’t ready to retire. She has a lot of years left.”

As soon as the words left her mouth, she realized what she said. Henry’s entire demeanor changed. His movements were stiff. His nod even more so. He turned on the TV, probably to avoid having to speak to her again.

They ate in uncomfortable silence for a while. Cynthia sipped her wine and ate her dinner, wishing she could bring back the playful, kind boy she’d known. Before he said he loved her and they stopped being friends. Before he took on the weight of the world and started working. Before he lost his father.

“I should probably go,” she said once she finished her dinner. She carried her plate and glass to the sink. She washed the glass and put it in the drying rack then rinsed her plate and stuck it in the dishwasher. When she turned to say goodbye, Henry was right there again.

“You don’t have to.”

She smiled sadly. “We both know I should, Henry. It’s been a long time since we could read each other’s thoughts and know what the other needed.”

“You knew what I needed when you got here.”

Cynthia shrugged. She didn’t want to tell him how she knew what someone needed when they were hurt and sad and angry at the world. She wasn’t ready for him to know her sob story. She wasn’t sure she’d ever be ready to tell him how she screwed things up in Philadelphia.

“We didn’t even have dessert.”

She shrugged. “I bought it for you. You should enjoy it.”

His eyes lit up before he yanked open the fridge. She saw the second he spotted the light blue box and couldn’t stop her own grin.

“No, you didn’t.”

He closed the fridge and faced her.

“I figured it was a good idea to indulge a little.”

“I never indulge. Not anymore.”

Cynthia’s eyes roamed his body, completely on their own, and she heated up all over again. “You look great,” she said, hoping she sounded casual.

He took a step forward. “You’re gorgeous. As always. Don’t go. At least share some dessert with me. Save me from myself so I don’t eat the whole thing.”

He waggled his eyebrows, making her laugh. He always did the same when she would talk about a new guy she liked. It made her laugh then, and reminded her that Henry, deep down, was the one person besides her mom that she loved with her whole heart. It was hard on her when they stopped talking, but once she knew how he felt, she knew they couldn’t pretend his words didn’t change their relationship.

“Fine,” she huffed, fighting a grin. “I’ll stay. But only if I get to pick the show.”

He groaned. “You’re relentless. What do you watch these days? Still cartoons?”

She scoffed as he pulled the box out of the fridge. “There’s nothing wrong with cartoons. But no, I watch a lot of DIY Network.”

“Seriously?”

She nodded, her mouth watering when he lifted the peanut butter cup cheesecake out of the box. Adele’s Bakery had the best desserts. The store was near the high school and quickly became a favorite during free periods when they were seniors and allowed to leave campus. They discovered peanut butter cup cheesecake one afternoon when Cynthia was nursing a broken heart and Henry was frustrated by something at home. He never told her what, but he said sharing the cheesecake with her made everything better.

She never forgot that.

“I want to learn how to do all those things they do on DIY Network. I mean, not remodel an entire house or anything like that, but lay tile and maybe even hardwood floors. Maybe make some small furniture pieces. There’s so much waste everywhere that I’d love to reuse old pieces and give them new life. I like the shows that do that.”

“Wow,” Henry said, cutting extra large slices of cheesecake. “I never would have imagined that. Most city girls are content to spend their money, the Earth be damned.”

“How many city girls do you know?”

Henry shrugged. “You?”

Cynthia snorted. “In all your vast experience with women, you clearly don’t have a clue. Then again, you never were much of a ladies man. You always seemed like a one-woman kind of guy.”

He shot her a look that was laced with frustration. “Yeah, well, that didn’t work out so well for me.”

Cynthia gulped. She hated knowing she put that look in his eyes.

Or did someone else hurt him?

That thought bothered her even more.

“I’m a lot different now,” he said, saving her from figuring out a response. “I do prefer to date one woman at a time, but most of them don’t last more than a month or two. The relationships that do implode when summer comes.”

“Why?”

He shrugged and handed her a plate. “I work in a vineyard. Sun-up to sun-down. It doesn’t leave much time for dating. The last woman I dated made that very clear.”

Cynthia didn’t like the jealousy that settled in her gut. She had no right to be upset that Henry had a girlfriend. She was the one planning to leave. She was the one who hadn’t been around. She was the one who didn’t want him.

“I’m sorry it didn’t work out,” she said, honestly. She wanted to see Henry happy. It hurt that she wasn’t the one who would make him happy, but she knew she wasn’t.

He shrugged. “It wasn’t meant to be. None of the women I’ve been with have ever felt like the right one. I want what my parents have. Had.”

“I’ve always wanted that, too.”

He pointed at her with his fork. “So, what’s your story? Single? Exes? I haven’t seen any kids.” He stabbed a piece of cheesecake and slid it into his mouth. He groaned, his eyes closing. “s**t, that’s good. I haven’t had this in fifteen years.”

“How is that possible? It was always your favorite.”

He shrugged but didn’t answer. “Tell me about you.”

“I’m pretty boring,” she said quickly. He didn’t believe a word of it. “I’ve only had one serious relationship, but it didn’t work out. No kids. No marriages. Until a few months ago, I’d only had one job.”

“What happened with the job? Downsizing?” It was the safest question because he really didn’t want to hear about her serious relationship.

Cynthia nodded. He watched her though, and there was something in her eyes that made him think there was more to the story than simple downsizing. “Yep. It sucks, but I’m hoping something will come up.”

“Are you looking to get back to a big city?”

She nodded again. “Definitely. I loved being in Philly, but it’s time to move on to someplace new. I’ve put in applications all over. DC. New York. Chicago. Los Angeles. Houston. Everywhere that had an opening, I applied.”

“Hopefully something will work out. What are you doing while you’re here?”

“Freelance,” Cynthia said with an adorable wrinkle of her nose. “It’s not bad. I kind of like it, but it’s harder to find jobs. Working at a paper came with built in jobs. Now, I’m spending almost as much time searching for jobs as I am actually writing.”

“I can see where that would be hard.” Henry wanted to keep her talking but could tell work was not her favorite subject. At least, not finding permanent work. “Have you thought about the local paper?”

“The Finger Lakes Gazette?”

Henry shrugged. “Sure. Why not? I know it’s small, but maybe there’s something you could do. Fill in for a little while until something else comes along?”

Cynthia considered it with her head tilted to the side and a finger tapping against her lip. Henry distracted himself with another bite of cheesecake. It was just as good as he remembered. Even better that he was sharing it with Cynthia again.

“That’s not a bad idea. It would at least be steady income if they have something for me. I kind of feel bad knowing I’ll be leaving though.”

Henry shrugged. “Maybe you’ll love it there and decide you don’t want to go back to another city.”

Cynthia shot him a look. “Not gonna happen.”

“It happened to my cousin. Alyssa always wanted to leave Bereton, but when she came back she said she felt like home. She never wanted to leave.”

Cynthia shook her head. “I didn’t have that feeling. I’ve been restless and itching to go since I’ve been back. As soon as something comes along, I’ll be gone again.”

Henry ate his last bite of cheesecake and talked himself out of going back for another piece. He didn’t need it. And he didn’t need Cynthia.

Too bad he wanted both.

He knew Cynthia would run, like she always did, but it bothered him to hear her so adamant about leaving. He missed her. As much as he told himself over the years that he didn’t, he did. And being around her again gave him a few minutes to forget about everything else in his life that was missing.

“If you’re set on leaving, you should be honest with them at the Gazette. Tell them you’re looking into other jobs, but are looking for something short term. You never know, there might be some snowbirds looking to get away for the winter. It could be perfect for you.”

Cynthia nodded and grinned up at him, making him feel like the smartest man on the planet. She popped her last bite of cheesecake in her mouth, and Henry grabbed their plates before he licked the chocolate from her lips. She was standing in front of him after he put everything in the dishwasher, looking adorable and tempting.

“Hey,” she said.

“Hey,” he answered, stepping closer to her.

“Do you feel any better?”

It took him a minute to realize she was talking about his panic attack, or whatever it was, when she got there. He nodded and pulled her in for a hug, resisting the desire to kiss her again. She was there for him the entire night. She didn’t shy away like so many others did. She let him be angry. She let him be irritated. She let him be whatever he needed to be.

Hell, she even let him kiss her and then not talk about it.

“That was one heck of a kiss earlier,” she whispered against his chest.

So much for not talking about it.

Henry sucked in a breath. “I thought so, too.”

“I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t the best kiss of my life.”

He pulled back from her and spun away. He could take kindness. He could handle sympathy. He could even swallow pity since his dad just died. But lying was not on the menu for the evening.

“You don’t have to bullshit me, Cynthia. I’m thirty-four years old. I’ve kissed enough women to have picked up a few things. This isn’t high school where you have to lie to me about how much I mean to you.”

Hurt flashed in her brown eyes, bringing out the green. She nodded once, then leveled him with a look that said exactly what she thought of his accusation.

“First of all, I never lied to you in high school. You were my best friend. I adored you. I had no idea you liked me the way you did, or I wouldn’t have turned to you. I was never close to any of the guys I dated or any of the girls in our class, but with you, I could be myself. So screw you for saying I lied about what you meant to me. Second, that was the best kiss of my life. Maybe you didn’t feel the same, or maybe you did, but don’t ever tell me that what I’m feeling isn’t true.”

Henry didn’t know whether to be shocked or impressed by what she said. He’d never known her to have such a quick temper, but things had changed about both of them over the years.

One thing that didn’t change was how much he wanted her. And damn if he could stop himself from kissing her again after seeing that spark in her eyes and hearing his was the best kiss of her life.

Henry didn’t give her a chance to back away. He didn’t go slow. He didn’t ask first. He just took, again, what he wanted, but this time, he wasn’t holding back.

She saw the look in his eyes a second before his lips crushed hers. A squeak of refusal sounded between them, but it was useless. They both knew she was as into the kiss as he was.

Could it even be called a kiss when one person demanded so much from the other? Henry assaulted her mouth with his, his tongue prying her lips apart so he could have what he wanted. Cynthia never liked passive men in bed, and liked them even less in a kiss. As forward thinking as she was, there was a part of her that loved when a man took charge of a kiss.

Henry’s tongue plundered her mouth. He captured her tender lips between their teeth. She tried to move away, but he pulled her back in, nipping her lip. His hand dipped low, cupping her a*s and lifting her. She hit the counter, wrapping her legs around his waist, as he thrust against her. There was nothing she could do about the moan that poured from her throat.

He did it again, his tongue thrusting at the same moment as his hips. Cynthia threaded her hands into his hair. She panted, trying to get enough air into her lungs, and enjoyed the feel of Henry.

She never would have pictured kind, sweet, gentle Henry as such a demanding man when it came to a physical attraction. It made her wonder what he would be like in bed. If he would demand the same from her. Or if he’d let her have control once in a while. Would he be a gentle lover, or a demanding one?

Or all of the above?

Cynthia was contemplating a move to his bedroom when Henry backed away from her quickly. He spun, his back to her, and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Before she had a chance to ask what the hell was going on, or be offended that he was wiping the taste of her away, the front door opened.

Zach Bennett walked in and immediately took stock of the room. Cynthia could see when he put together the way they both looked and their positions. She hoped he couldn’t see the erection Henry had been pressing against her, but it didn’t matter. Zach was clearly not thrilled at finding her there.

“What the f**k is she doing here?”

Cynthia slid off the counter as the cousins squared off. Henry rose to his full height and crossed his arms over his broad chest, blocking her from Zach. “I invited her over.”

“You’re playing with fire.”

“So are you if you don’t shut your mouth.”

“I should go,” Cynthia said, resting a hand on Henry’s back. He immediately spun to face her and cupped her jaw.

“You don’t have to.”

She glanced past him to where Zach was glaring at her. “I do. It’s fine.”

“When can I see you again?”

Cynthia shrugged. “My schedule is pretty open these days.”

Henry dug out his phone and handed it to her. She keyed in her number and handed it back. “I’ll text you.”

She reached up on her toes and kissed him quickly, unable to walk away without one final taste of him. She averted her eyes when she went to get her boots and jacket on. She could feel both men watching her. When she was ready, she glanced back at Henry and smiled at him. He smiled back, but it was forced. She made the mistake of looking at Zach and was shocked at the hatred in his gaze. She scurried outside, rolling her eyes at the thought that it was almost warmer in the snow than inside with Zach.