by Tracy Wolff
Sarah had nearly died, had insisted on replacing the table for him despite his objections. The one she got him was bigger and better than the model he kept at home—was comparable to the ones he had at the office. He’d told her it was too much, but she hadn’t listened.
“Look out, Uncle Reece, here I come,” Johnny shouted as his 18-wheeler barreled down on Reece’s dump truck.
“I’m going to get there first,” Justin called, pointing his gigantic fire truck at him.
“Hey,” said Reece, engaging in more evasive maneuvers than he’d ever had to do in driver’s ed. “What did my dump truck ever do to you?”
“You’re not a real dump truck!” Justin shouted happily, the gleam of battle in his eyes.
“I’m not?” He stared at the red, yellow and blue truck in confusion. “Then what am I?”
“You’re a robber. You just stole a gazillion dollars and you’ve hidden it in the back of the truck. You’re trying to get away,” Johnny exclaimed, as he moved his truck neatly in front of Reece’s.
“Yeah. But we’re not gonna let you, ’cuz we’re the good guys.” Justin crashed into his truck from behind, sending it spinning across the carpet.
“You don’t really think I’m going to give up so easily, do you?” Reece gave the most evil laugh he was capable of as he spun his truck around and plowed it directly into Johnny’s rig.
The boys shrieked and Rose giggled. The sound had echoes of Sarah’s laugh, surprising Reece. She seemed more like her old self these days, more like the woman who took on the world her way. Early on he’d learned to get out of her way when she was on a roll, otherwise he’d end up a pancake in the middle of the road.
Life with her was exciting, intriguing. More than once he’d found himself with the urge to kiss her, which was more than a little disconcerting.
Not to mention, frightening. With Sarah’s independent streak, she’d probably solve the problem by punching him in the nose then kicking him out of her house.
She was totally different than Van had been. Van had always consulted him about a decision before she made it—no matter how small or inconsequential. She’d asked his advice on everything and had listened to it almost exclusively.
With Sarah, half the time she seemed to forget he was around. Just last week he’d found her under the sink, fixing the garbage disposal. When he’d demanded to know why she hadn’t called him, she’d looked at him like he’d lost his mind, and told him that she didn’t need his help.
More and more he saw that that was true. No matter how much he disliked admitting it, Sarah didn’t need him—and probably never would. Sure, she’d been floundering when he’d first arrived, but not so much now. He was becoming superfluous. As if he was nothing more than someone else Sarah had to take care of—in short, a failure. For a man who had spent his life avoiding that feeling, it was more than a little uncomfortable.
“Do it again, Uncle Reece! Do it again!”
Johnny’s voice pulled his attention back to the game of dodge and crash. “You bet, guys.” Stretching out on his stomach, he plowed his truck into Justin’s this time and grinned as the boys giggled.
Rosie watched with rapt interest, so he did it again and again until he heard the click of heels behind him. Turning, he nearly swallowed his tongue at the sight of Sarah. Most of the blood in his head made a rapid trip south.
Gone was the work-at-home mom he was accustomed to. In her place was a blond bombshell—slender but with curves in all the right places. And legs that seemed to go on for miles.
“Is that a new dress?” he asked, his voice much hoarser than usual.
She glanced down as her hand swept over the skirt. “It is. I found it at the mall last week, when I was picking up shoes for Rose.”
“You look good.”
“Really?” Her smile was tentative.
“Yeah.” Oh yeah. Good enough to have his libido leaping to life.
She was Van’s friend, he reminded himself viciously. His wife’s friend. Enough plotting schemes to get her horizontal.
But she was also the mother of his child, a little voice whispered insidiously. That had to count for something. And they’d been living together for months.
But not in the conventional sense, he reminded himself, squeezing his hands into fists in an effort to fight the arousal. And she would be shocked—horrified—if she had any idea what he was thinking.
Hell, he was horrified himself—even as he couldn’t get the idea of touching her out of his traitorous brain. He knew from experience that her skin was almost as soft as Rose’s and so much more fragrant. But tonight, it was glowing, luminescent. Beautiful. The dress—the same indigo color as her eyes—made everything about her a little softer than it had been before.
“Well—” she glanced at her watch “—I’ve got to get going or I’ll be late.”
“I’ve got things under control here.”
“Okay.” She hesitated, as if she didn’t know what to say.
“I’ve got it,” he reiterated, his voice made harsher than he’d intended by the sexual awareness still zipping around inside of him.
She stiffened at his tone, her eyes going from pleased to wary in the space of a heartbeat. “I’ve got dinner in the oven. It’s just a casserole, but there’s fresh bread next to the stove and a salad in the fridge. I shouldn’t be late.”
She turned, and before he could think of something to say to make up for his churlish behavior, she was gone—leaving a cloud of sexy-as-hell perfume in her wake.
CHAPTER EIGHT
SARAH SHIFTED in the kindergarten chair, uncomfortable despite herself. It wasn’t the size of the chair that brought her such discomfort, however, but the look in Reece’s eyes. The look that said she was hot.
That he wanted her.
That she turned him on.
It had been so long since she’d seen that look on a man’s face. And Reece had had it in spades, though she’d tried—numerous times—to tell herself she was mistaken.
“Mrs. Martin, it’s so good to see you.” The boys’ teacher approached with a big smile.
Scrambling to her feet, Sarah tried to work up a smile of her own, despite the butterflies doing the samba in her stomach. “Hello, Mrs. De Salvo. How are you?”
“I’m doing very well. And so are your boys.”
“Really?”
“Absolutely. They’re a little high-spirited—” the teacher’s eyes twinkled “—but they’re very sweet. Always interested in what I’m teaching, always volunteering to do whatever chore needs to be done.”
“I’m glad to hear that. With everything that’s happened, I’ve worried.”
“Well, don’t. They’re the youngest in the class, and there are always more adjustment issues for the young ones. No reason for you to be concerned—”
Concerned was an understatement. After her second visit to the principal’s office in three weeks, Sarah had decided that she was a failure as a mother. But Reece had merely laughed, pointing out that the boys never did anything malicious. They simply wanted to see how things worked.
But then Reece was good at calming her down. He always seemed to have a handle on what was going on around him, around them. Even this sexual attraction between them didn’t seem to startle him—
“Does that sound okay? Mrs. Martin?”
Mortified, Sarah jerked her attention back to Justin and Johnny’s teacher. The woman had obviously asked her a question and she’d been too caught up in thoughts of Reece to answer. Her cheeks burned, and she felt like her thoughts were written across her forehead.
“I’m sorry. Could you repeat the question?”
Mrs. De Salvo gave her a strange look, then said, “I was asking if you could donate a few items to the treasure box.” She gestured to the large chest in the corner of the room that Justin and Johnny had only recently behaved well enough to get treats from. “We’re running low.”
“Um, sure. Of course.” Sarah forced a smile.
“I’ll stop by the store tomorrow.”
“Excellent.” The teacher beamed at her. “Please, stay and look around at all the work the boys have been doing.”
“I will, thank you.”
But as Sarah wandered the room, pretending to study childishly scrawled stories and pictures, she obsessed over the heat that had literally poured off Reece earlier. A mirroring heat simmered in her own system.
She stooped to look at pictures of a science experiment the students had done. But even as she searched for Justin’s and Johnny’s smiling faces, all she could think was that she should have known better. They were two healthy adults living in the same house, taking care of their children—and each other. Neither one of them had had sex in quite a while.
Maybe that’s why she’d noticed him before—nothing this overt of course, but the awareness had been building. The proximity, the opportunity, the abstinence—it was the perfect recipe for desire. That was it. This tension wasn’t really about her and Reece as people but about the situation.
The intensity of Reece’s stare flashed through her mind.
Yeah. Right. The situational explanation was pretty and neat but it just didn’t cut it. She wanted Reece and only him. And, judging by that look he’d given her, he wanted her as much.
What a mess. That wall she’d put up between her and Reece—the wall that marked him as Vanessa’s husband—was crumbling. And despite the guilt, Sarah wanted the barrier gone. Some friend she was to lust after Reece.
She dreaded going home, dreaded facing him with her body so alive it was painful, dreaded dealing with that same body’s shameful betrayal.
Two other parents came up behind her and she moved to the next board, where the students had drawn pictures of their recent trip to the zoo. As she studied Johnny’s version of a snarling tiger, she couldn’t help feeling as if there was a scarlet A across her chest, visible for everyone to see.
Van might be dead, but Reece was still her husband. Would always be her husband—and Sarah would never be anything but an interloper. One more reason that she had to get her emotions under control.
Besides, in purely selfish terms, she had no desire to be the rebound woman. How could any woman compete with the memory of a wife?
“The pictures are great, aren’t they?”
“I’m sorry?” She turned to the extremely attractive man standing next to her. Blond with deep green eyes that crinkled at the corners, he had a smile that instantly made her respond in kind.
“The pictures.” He tapped his finger on what she thought might be an elephant. “My daughter, Brittani, has a thing for hippopotami.”
Or a hippopotamus. “She’s very good.” Then she pointed out her boys’ pictures.
“Wow, twins, huh?”
“Indeed.”
“That must be a lot to handle for a—” he glanced at her left hand “—single mom.”
Alarms went off in her head as she clued in that the warmth in his eyes—the warmth she assumed was for his daughter’s picture—was actually for her.
“Um, yeah, but—” Her brain seemed unable to formulate even the most basic answer. How long had it been since a man had hit on her? Too long, if her only response was to blush and stammer.
Thankfully, he seemed to understand her predicament and was gentleman enough not to push. Instead, he winked and said, “It was nice meeting you.”
“Uh, yes. You, too.” Sarah watched him walk away with a nearly overwhelming feeling of relief. Obviously, she still wasn’t ready for anything to happen between her and a man.
So she would bury this whole sexual attraction thing with Reece. If she ignored it, surely it would go away.
Mollified Sarah drove home and tried her best to ignore the fact that she was lying to herself.
* * *
REECE’S HEART POUNDED a little faster as he heard the garage door open. The kids were all asleep and he’d hoped to have a few minutes to chill. A few minutes to tackle the reaction he’d had to Sarah earlier. But she was back earlier than expected.
“Hey.” Sarah’s voice was strangely subdued as she laid her purse on the kitchen counter and smiled at him.
“Hey, yourself.” Damn, she looked as beautiful and enticing as she had before she’d left earlier in the evening. Leashing his libido, he asked, “How was back-to-school night?”
“It was good. Mrs. De Salvo seems like she’ll be great for them. I like her discipline rules and what she’s planning this semester.”
“I’m glad.” He nodded toward the bottle of wine on the coffee table. “Grab a glass.”
To his surprise, she did. He could count on one finger the number of times he’d seen Sarah drink since he’d moved in. But he didn’t comment, merely poured the merlot into her glass.
“To what do I owe this honor?”
“I don’t know—I was tense.” He shrugged. “Needed to unwind, I guess.”
“Did things go okay with your clients this morning?” She leaned forward, concerned, and he caught the sweet and spicy scent of her. She smelled like the magnolias in his backyard—tempting and oh-so-beautiful. Combined with lingering notes of cinnamon from the snicker-doodles she’d baked the boys earlier, she was almost irresistible.
“It went fine.” He tried to breathe through his mouth to end the torment. “They wrote me a big, fat check and are ready to get started as soon as Matt and I can pull everything together.”
“That’s fabulous. I know how hard you’ve worked on that proposal.”
It was great news—for his career and for the company he and Matt had started eight years before with little more than AutoCAD and a drafting table. But at the moment he was more interested in watching the light play over the red and gold streaks in Sarah’s hair than he was in talking about the client he had all but bled for.
“Yeah. I guess.”
“What’s wrong?” She put a hand over his and he nearly jumped out of his skin. Nearly jumped her.
“There will be a lot of travel—at least in the first few months. Matt can take care of some, but—” Sarah licked her lips and he struggled not to groan. His overheated brain couldn’t help imagining what it would be like to have that pink tongue of hers over—
He slammed door after door against the need rocketing through him. What was wrong with him? He never let himself think of Sarah like this. Always stopped his mind from wandering down a path that might take him here. Yet from the moment he’d seen her earlier tonight, he had been almost consumed by thoughts of her. Desperate for the chance to hold her, to kiss her.
To sate the rip-roaring hunger inside of him.
“That’s okay. We’ll manage. And you know, if there’s anything you need help with, you only have to ask.”
Oh yeah, he had something he wanted her help with.
But if he told her exactly what he needed, she’d probably run screaming for her room. Or the nearest weapon.
“It’ll all work out,” he agreed in a voice that he knew was way too tense.
Out of the corner of his eye, he caught the tensing of her body, caught the angling of her hips and shoulders toward him, even as she maintained a more than appropriate distance. Was she somehow feeling the same way? Was she having the same cravings for him that he was for her?
Lust slammed through him at the thought, eating him from the inside out. Suddenly, it took every ounce of self-control he had not to wrap his hands around her arms and close the short distance. He wanted her in his lap, her hips moving restlessly against his. He wanted her mouth on his, her tongue tangled temptingly with his. He wanted her breasts in his hand, her nipples peaked against fingers that ached with the need to touch her. To be inside her.
He tried to stop himself, tried to move away. But the air was moving through his lungs like a bellows, sexual attraction sharp and inescapable between them.
“Reece.” Sarah’s voice was shaky, her eyes pleading.
The hand she held out to him anything but steady. He didn’t know if
it was an invitation or a plea for him to stop. He didn’t care. He was too far gone, his hunger for her a raging beast he had no hope of controlling.
Grasping her hands, he gave a sharp tug and quickly had her exactly where he wanted her. Next to him, on top of him, surrounded by him. Their faces so close that they breathed the same air, their bodies pressed so tightly together that he could feel the frantic pulse of her heart against his chest. Knew that she could feel the crazy pounding of his, as well.
Part of him wanted to take her mouth quickly, to devour her in a series of fast, sharp bites. Another part wanted to savor, to bask in the feel of a soft, sensual woman in his arms again. And not just any woman, but Sarah. So kind, so loving, so beautiful.
With one movement she took the choice away from him. Leaning in, she brushed her lips against his and set off an explosion he had no hopes of controlling.
With a low groan, he shifted his hands, sinking his fingers into the short satin of her hair. Chaining her to him as he tilted his head and prepared to take what she had so sweetly offered him.
Panic and need and desire churned in Sarah’s stomach as Reece’s hands knotted in her hair. She wanted him, wanted this. Needed this with a desperation she’d never imagined possible. All her misgivings danced in the back of her head, all the reasons she’d given herself earlier about why this was a bad idea. But as his mouth hovered above hers, she couldn’t bring herself to care.
Later was time enough for the recriminations.
With her breath catching in her throat, Sarah let her eyes flutter closed. She savored the heat of his breath against her cheeks, her lips. Relished the hardness of his body where it pushed against her own. Waited for the feel of his mouth over hers.
And waited.
And waited.