As he parked and stepped out of his car, he heard an uproar from the crowd. Roni’s French bulldog had somehow broken away from her—Theo couldn’t see clearly, but he thought it might have been lured away by one of the reporters—and was running across the lawn. One of the reporters lunged for the small dog. To his horror, he saw that Willow had chased the dog and was leaning forward to pick it up, out of the reporter’s grasp. But the reporter, who was fairly large, had gathered too much momentum to stop running, and moments later, he was tackled by an even larger security guard.
Theo watched in horror as they all went down together—the reporter falling on top of Willow, who collapsed to the ground as the security guard fell on top of both of them. The dog had made its way safely back to Roni, but Theo barely had time to register this as he sprinted across the lawn. Both men were slowly getting to their feet as he arrived, but Willow wasn’t moving. Under other circumstances, Theo, who had never been violent in his life, might have felt compelled to beat both the reporter and the security guard to a pulp, but at the moment, all his attention was focused on Willow.
After what felt like years, he finally reached her. Gently, he turned her over. He’d been alarmed that she was so still, but her eyes fluttered open. She motioned to her throat and made a strained noise, and he realized she’d had the wind knocked out of her. “Easy,” he said. “You’ll be all right in a few minutes. I’m going to take you inside so we can make sure you’re okay.”
He scooped Willow into his arms and headed toward the clinic. He couldn’t believe the utter carelessness of the other two men, the blatant disregard they’d shown for Willow’s well-being.
Once inside, he took Willow into an exam room and sat her down on the exam table. Her breathing was already easier; she was sitting upright on her own.
He began to feel her limbs, gently, to check for any other injuries, but she stopped him and shook her head. He cupped her cheek with his hand, stroking her hair, as they waited for her breath to recover.
Finally, she said, “I’m all right. Just winded.”
Relief flooded through him, to be quickly replaced by anger. “Just winded? That reporter should be in jail. That security guard should be fired.”
“It was an accident. No one was hurt.”
“You were hurt.” He resumed his examination, palpating her shoulders, her collarbone.
“Stop. Theo. It’s all right. I’m fine.” She reached up and turned his face toward hers. “I’m fine.”
He found he was trembling. At first he’d thought he was shaking in anger, but now he realized that it was fear, as well. When he’d seen Willow lying on the grass, so still, he’d thought the worst. The idea of Willow being hurt, of losing Willow, was unbearable.
Without thinking, he pulled her close to him, her head against his chest. “I was so worried,” he said. “I thought I’d lost you.”
“Nonsense,” she said, tilting her face up toward his. “I’m right here.”
He gave her a light kiss, meant to reassure them both. He needed the comfort as much as she did. But his lips lingered, just before he pulled away, and then he didn’t pull away at all. Their kiss deepened, her mouth yielding to his, her lips soft and pliable. His tongue began to explore her mouth, and he noticed that she tasted of honey, cinnamon and something else. Something that was indefinable yet tantalizing all the same.
She reached up from where she sat on the table to put her arms around his neck and pull him closer to her. He wanted to tell her that if they didn’t stop now, he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to, but then his nose was buried in the rich, dark hair that fell just so against the crook of her neck. His hands went to her waist, and then, gently, he traced the rise of one breast, just below the top of her blouse. Go slow, he reminded himself, we agreed to go slow.
But holding Willow in his arms stirred every feeling that had been reawakened since their first sunset kiss on the boardwalk. For weeks he’d been trying to pace himself, using every last bit of willpower to keep himself from asking for anything more than she was willing to offer. It didn’t help matters much that he’d barely touched a woman during the four years before he’d met Willow—and now, restraint was nearly impossible as he drank in the warmth of her body, her hands raking through his hair.
There hadn’t been a day that went by since his arrival on St. Victoria that he hadn’t dreamed of holding her in his arms, just like this. To stop now would be agony, and yet...they’d agreed to go slow. Somehow, he managed to pull himself away from her just long enough to whisper, “Should we stop?”
Willow’s eyes met his, her lips wet, her breathing heavy. In response, she shifted herself toward the edge of the table so that her body melted into his. He shivered, then groaned as he felt her press against him, and he began to feel himself grow hard. Now there was a new kind of agony as he became enveloped in the sensation of her: the smooth skin of her thighs beneath his hands, the sweet citrus scent of her hair and the heat of her lips on his. He was surrounded by the warmth of her, and yet still he burned with wanting her.
He had no thought, no awareness, beyond the softness of her skin against his hands, the smell of cinnamon enveloping them both and the warm curves of her body that seemed to meld into him. And so it came as surprise when he heard a knock on the exam room door.
“Hello?” called one of the nurses from the hallway outside.
They broke apart in a panic. Theo tucked his shirt back in and smoothed the wrinkles, while Willow did up the top buttons of her blouse.
“Theo? Willow?” It sounded like Talia’s voice.
“Just a minute,” Willow called back.
“We just wanted to check and make sure that Willow was all right,” Talia called again.
“I’m fine,” Willow replied. “Just a little winded. A little out of breath. Just give me a couple more minutes and I’ll be right out.”
There was a rather long pause, and then Talia said, “Okay. Just let me know if you need anything.”
They were both silent until they heard the sound of Talia’s receding footsteps, and then Willow erupted into laughter.
“I don’t know how you can possibly laugh right now,” Theo said. He couldn’t believe what he’d just done. After all their talk of taking things slowly, he’d gone and acted like some sort of caveman, practically taking Willow right on the exam room table. What must she be thinking of him?
Seeing her knocked to the ground out on the lawn must have activated some sort of primal urge in him. And he’d been so relieved to see that she was all right that he’d got carried away with his feelings.
Fortunately, Willow didn’t seem to mind. Far from it. “Do you think they know?” she said, jerking her head toward the door.
“Well, we’ve been trying to keep our relationship a secret, so I’m certain the whole clinic knows about it. As for whether they know about what we were doing just now...let’s hope they trust in our professionalism.”
Willow bit her lip. “Let’s hope so indeed.”
As she stood up to leave, straightening her skirt, Theo put his hand on hers. “Wait.”
He was about to apologize. But then he remembered how much Willow valued honesty. And he would never, ever be sorry for the moment they’d just had.
“Do you think you can get a sitter for Maisie tonight?”
“Why? Do I have plans for tonight?”
“I very much hope you do.”
* * *
Mrs. Jean was all too happy to watch Maisie for the evening.
“Don’t even think about it,” she said when Willow tried to apologize for the short notice. “It’s about time you started getting serious about someone. Shall I assume it’s that doctor I’ve seen coming over to your place all month?”
“His name’s Theo. We’ve only been seeing each other a little bit, but...it’s going very well.”
“I would hope so. He’s over here often enough. Why don’t you pack an overnight bag for Maisie, so you can pick her up in the morning? That way you don’t have to worry about rushing home early tonight.”
“Oh, that’s not necessary. I’m sure I’ll be home by eleven.”
“Sweetheart. Pack Maisie a bag. And maybe one for yourself, too. If you come back tonight, fine. But if you do end up spending the night with this young gentleman, then at least you won’t need to worry about rushing home.” Willow nodded in agreement, and the older woman cackled. “That’s what I thought. Tonight’s the night.”
Willow was so flushed with excitement that she couldn’t even fend off Mrs. Jean’s insinuations. Besides, Mrs. Jean was right, if that moment with Theo in the exam room was any indication of his intentions. Tonight was the night.
For the first time in years, tonight was the night.
As she packed her things—a toothbrush, a change of clothes for work tomorrow—she could barely keep her hands from shaking. That exam room kiss had turned into something more so rapidly that she hadn’t had time to think. But then Theo had suggested that she come over tonight so that they could do things properly, without the worry of unlocked doors and the hundreds of other things that could go wrong with intimacy in a workplace setting.
She’d immediately agreed, but then she’d spent the rest of the day thinking about it. And worrying about it.
She was so out of practice. What if Theo noticed?
In the exam room, she hadn’t had time to think. It had happened so suddenly that instinct had just taken over. But now she’d spent an entire day thinking about what awaited her in the evening. Her skin burned with a heat she hadn’t felt in ages. She’d almost forgotten what it felt like to want someone so badly that it seemed almost impossible to get close enough to them. In fact, she wasn’t certain if she’d ever wanted anyone the way she wanted Theo.
She hoped she wouldn’t embarrass herself. But she also knew that it didn’t matter. Nothing, not even potential embarrassment, was going to stop her from feeling Theo’s hands on her skin again. She could still feel the warmth where he’d cupped her cheek.
She decided to drive the short distance to Theo’s house, just in case she did end up spending the night.
Once again, he and Bixby were waiting on the porch.
She got out of her car, hoping he couldn’t see her knees knocking. Why was she so nervous? It was Theo, she thought. He’d become so familiar to her over these past few weeks. Most of the time, his presence was warm and comforting.
Perhaps, she thought, she was nervous because she didn’t want warmth just now.
She wanted flames.
She somehow made herself walk up the porch steps. He slipped an arm around her waist and held her close, and she let herself lean into his arms. Nervous as she was, she was grateful for the support. Then a flicker of light inside the house caught her eye, and she looked over his shoulder, through the doorway.
“Oh, Theo,” she breathed. “It’s beautiful.”
The lights inside the house were dim, and dozens of small candles dotted the front entryway and living room. White and red rose petals were scattered everywhere, including a trail to the bedroom.
He leaned in close and murmured into her hair. “Four years.”
“What?”
“That’s how long it’s been for me. Longer, in fact, although I never kept an exact count. I haven’t been with anyone for four years. And you said that it had been a long time for you, too. So I thought, since it’s the first time in a long time for both of us, that I should do something to make it special.”
She raised a hand to his cheek, feeling the faint stubble there. “Tonight’s already special.”
He kissed her, a gentle, searching kiss that quickly deepened. She felt the warmth that had kindled deep within her begin to spread, and as he traced her arm with one finger, she shivered.
“Are you cold?” he said.
“Not exactly.”
He smiled. “Maybe we should go inside all the same.”
He led her up the rose petal path to the bedroom. There were only a few candles there, casting dim shadows on the walls.
It was very romantic. But it was also very dark. And Willow thought she might know why.
“Theo,” she said, “are you nervous about me seeing you?”
He let out a long breath, and she realized he must have been even more nervous than she was.
“I should have known you would guess,” he said.
“Tell me.” She waited in the darkness.
“I’ve lost a lot of weight from the cancer. My body’s changed. I don’t look like me anymore. At least, not how I remember myself. No one’s really seen me since before I started treatment. This is my first time doing this the way I look now, and I’m not sure what it will be like.”
She kissed the corner of his mouth, right where it always seemed about to pull up into a smile. “I know you’ve been through some changes. And that we’re both scared. But let’s not hide from each other tonight.”
The candlelight flickered, catching at the gold flecks in his hazel eyes. “What could you possibly have to hide from me?”
She swallowed. “That it’s been such a long time since I’ve done this that I might...lose control. And that I’m afraid of what you might think, if you see me like that.”
Now his eyes were ablaze, and she didn’t think it was just from candlelight. “I think I might like to see you lose control.”
“I think you almost did, earlier this morning.”
“Mmm. And it was almost every bit as lovely as I might have hoped.”
“Almost?”
“Well, we were constrained by our circumstances. And caught up in the moment. I didn’t, for example, have the opportunity to do this.” He leaned her against the back of the bedroom wall and kissed the hollow of her throat. She tilted her chin upward to give him greater access, her skin humming against her.
“Or this,” he said as his hands went to the back of her neck to undo the clasp of her halter dress. Once undone, the top fell to her waist, her breasts exposed. He cupped one of them, his fingers caressing, then gently pulling and teasing one nipple. She arched her back, moaning, to press herself more firmly into his palm.
He knelt before her, kissing between her breasts, her stomach, as he made his way downward. “Or, of course, this,” he whispered, pulling her dress from her hips. There was a soft crumple as it hit the floor. He gazed up at her, his chin level with the tops of her thighs, and slowly slid her panties from her hips.
She could feel his soft breath against the tuft of hair between her legs, and then, almost before she knew what was happening, he’d buried his face in the warmth there, and she felt the slow strokes of his tongue. She tried to tell him that he didn’t have to, that no one had ever, but somehow her words were lost, and all that came out were gasps of air. Her knees were shaking; she didn’t know how she could keep standing upright, but then she felt his hands on her thighs, holding her in place as he continued on with what he’d started. She began to see starbursts in front of her eyes, dark as the room was, and she moaned his name and told him she couldn’t hold back.
He lifted her to the bed then, and she heard him racing to remove his clothes. There was the sound of a foil wrapper; she knew she could trust Theo to have planned on protection.
And not a moment too soon. Her body ached with a primal need; her skin was aflame, and she felt the yearning that had begun deep within her threaten to overwhelm her entirely. She could feel his body next to her on the bed. “Now,” she breathed, and a moment later he had fully embedded himself in her. Her hips rocked upward to meet his, and he pushed himself into her, again and again, their bodies joining in a dance as old as time itself.
With each thrust, she felt herself getting closer to the point of no r
eturn, to the loss of control that she feared, and yet desperately craved. She felt his pace quicken, felt herself pushed to the brink, and then suddenly she cried his name again and let herself go. Her consciousness shattered into a thousand pieces, and for a moment there was nothing beyond his breath and hers, the sensation of their bodies moving together. And then, at last, there was the feeling of lying together, replete and exhausted, their limbs tangled together, their bodies apart.
How strange, she thought dreamily as her eyes began to close. A moment ago, she’d felt shattered into pieces. But now, somehow, she felt...whole.
CHAPTER EIGHT
THEO WOKE THE next morning to see Willow fast asleep on the pillow beside him. He slipped out of bed quietly, so as not to wake her. She worked so hard. She deserved her sleep.
Especially after the night before. What a way to break a four-year dry spell. He smiled, remembering how nervous they’d both been at the start. Clearly, neither of them had had anything to worry about. Or at least, Willow hadn’t. Theo was certain he’d never felt the things he’d felt with Willow with anyone else before. He hoped the night had been all she’d wanted it to be. And if it hadn’t, he hoped they could practice until they got it right.
He headed toward the kitchen, wondering what Willow might like for breakfast. As he was pulling a loaf of bread from the refrigerator, his phone rang.
It was Becca. He listened to her chatter away about family concerns. She mentioned that his father had had a yearly checkup, and his Alzheimer’s appeared to have plateaued, which was very good news. After a while, though, Becca noticed that he wasn’t saying much.
“What’s going on?” she said. “Why are you being so quiet?”
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