Sean

by Donna Kauffman

  She snorted, too, then gasped when he pulled her into a one-armed hug. “You’re pretty special, too, you know,” he told her, his lips pressed against her temple. “And not just to me.”

  She stepped back when he let her go, her mouth open but no words coming out.

  Sean grinned. “Man, if I’d only known how to render you speechless, I’d have done that a lot sooner.”

  She kicked at his shin as he passed her by, but it was halfhearted at best. “Beast.”

  He looked over his shoulder. “I can be. We all can be. But I promise you, not all men are jerks. At least not all the time.”

  “Well, good. Since my jerkometer has been a bit off of late, maybe you can direct one or two of them my way.”

  Sean noticed Derek all but leap off the deck railing to come help Izzy with the pizza, and murmured, “Somehow, I don’t think that’s going to be necessary.”

  12

  LAUREL’S HOUSE was dark when she arrived home. She tucked her keys back into her purse and closed the front door behind her. Her driveway was empty, so she assumed Sean had gotten caught up in moving his things in and was running late. Or maybe not coming at all.

  They hadn’t spoken during the day, so she’d had no way to tell him how behind she’d gotten. It had all started with the surprise meeting with her father and had snowballed out of control from there. The only positive part of the whole day was that she had been kept too busy to worry about Alan. For the most part, anyway.

  She was checking her answering machine for messages, thinking maybe Sean had already come and gone—it was going on eight by now—when she stopped, turned and sniffed the air. Something definitely smelled…different. Good different. In fact, her stomach chose that moment to growl in abject appreciation. Her lunch had consisted of an apple and a bottle of water, slugged down in between phone conferences and actual meetings, so even the hint of hot food on the premises was enough to make her instantly ravenous.

  She set her purse and briefcase down by the hall table and walked into the front room, still sniffing the air. Spicy. Her stomach punctuated that thought with another audible growl.

  “Sean?” A glance toward the kitchen told her the room was dark and empty. So she walked through the family room, which was almost completely dark, save for the flickering light emanating from the direction of the stairs. She was smiling as she walked past the couch, slid off her suit jacket and tossed it onto the matching stuffed chair. Her smile turned to a gasp as she spied the source of the flickering light. She’d already deduced candles…but never could have imagined the dozens of tapers, short and fat, tall and thin, crowding the wall ledge of the open stairwell. More candles nestled in the recessed area on the first floor landing.

  Her hand was to her mouth as she finished climbing the stairs. Had he really done all this for her? She’d thought about him often during the day, despite her crowded schedule. Maybe because of it. She’d been looking forward to him being here when she got home. She’d expected him to be exhausted, maybe even stretched out on the couch asleep, waiting for her to get home. She’d even thought about stopping to pick something up, in case he hadn’t had time. But she knew if Sean said he was going to do something, he did it. And he’d promised Chinese food. Of course, he’d said nothing about candles and seduction.

  She paused on the landing, staring at the flickering lights, thinking about his intensity, his focus…shivering with pleasure in the knowledge that right at the moment, his focus was going to be on her. And it made her wonder what else he had planned for the evening. She shivered again.

  “Hungry?”

  She swiveled around, and found him standing in the doorway to her bedroom, wearing a pair of faded gray sweats…and nothing else. Her heart rate doubled. “You have no idea.”

  He grinned. “Judging by the look in your eyes, I might have a vague clue.”

  Now it was her turn to grin. Had she really worried that it might be at all awkward between them this evening? For all her anticipation of seeing him again, knowing she’d likely end her day the same delicious way she’d begun it, she also knew they still had some talking to do. Serious talking. And she’d worried that it might spoil…well, everything else.

  Apparently, Sean believed in hedging his bets. At the moment she fully agreed with the strategy.

  He gently took her wrists, tugged her slowly closer. The heels of her low pumps scuffed across the hard-wood landing until her body was flush against his. Then he tucked her wrists—still in his hands—behind her back and bent his mouth to hers. She arched into him, gasping in pleasure, both at the feel of his mouth on hers and the solid hardness of his body.

  “Missed you,” he murmured when he finally ended the kiss.

  She wasn’t sure she could state her own name clearly at the moment. The man simply took her breath away. “Mmm,” she finally managed to get out. “Me, too.”

  “I wasn’t sure when you were going to get here, so I kept everything in the cartons.” He glanced around at the candles. “Good thing you got here when you did, though. In addition to probably creating a fire hazard, if you’d been too much later, they’d have all gutted out.”

  She noticed then, how far they’d all burned down. “I’m so sorry it took me so long, my day was obnoxious from start to finish. First my dad—”

  “You spoke to your father?”

  Gone was the husky, seductive tone. Sean the Marshal had returned. For some reason, it made her smile. She liked the complex mix that made him the man he was. “I did. And we can talk about it over cold Chinese food.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “I guess we will.”

  “I can’t help it. I’m starving. Should we put these out first?” She looked at all the candles.

  He surprised her by leaning down and nuzzling the side of her neck, all but growling in a low and throaty moan. “I’ve been needing to put out a certain fire all day…but I suppose we should start with the candles.”

  She laughed, then gasped as he turned her face to his and kissed her long and hard. “Well,” she said, breathing heavily, “I mean, how bad a fire hazard can they be, right?” She pulled his mouth back to hers, kissing him even as he laughed.

  He pulled her into the bedroom, back-walking until his spine hit her dresser. His mouth never left hers, even as he groped at the dresser top behind him. “Ah,” he said against her mouth, before finally lifting his lips from hers. “Here.”

  Hormones swimming, it took her a moment to notice what he held. A long-stemmed, brass candle extinguisher. “Boy,” she said, a bit surprised. “You really do think of everything.”

  “No, my older sister Isabel thinks of everything. Although I’m going to tell her that overkill on the candles might be romantic…until you have to stop to put each one out.”

  “Your sister Isabel was the one to suggest the candles?”

  His grin turned a bit sheepish. “I’d like to say I’m a natural in the romance and seduction arena—”

  “You’re no slouch, let me tell you.”

  His grin widened, making his eyes gleam. “Why, thank you.”

  “So,” she said, not wanting to fish…but basically fishing anyway. “Why was your sister offering you seduction advice? Did you talk to her about us?”

  He took her hand, as if he couldn’t bear to give up the contact—a sentiment she was fully okay with—and pulled her back to the stairs. He talked as he snuffed. “Not in detail. I—” He paused in the act of putting out one of the taller tapers, then extinguished the flame abruptly before turning to face her. “You want the God’s honest truth? I want to shout it to the world.”

  Her heart did a little flip and she couldn’t wipe the wide, satisfied smile from her face. “But?”

  He went back to snuffing candles. “It’s not that I don’t trust my family, but I thought it was best to play it safe.” She followed him down the steps, until the last candle was out…casting them in the glow of the only light left—a small lamp on the nightstand back
in her bedroom. “I sort of ran out of candles by the time I got to the top of the stairs,” he said by way of explanation as to why there weren’t any actually in her bedroom.

  “Where did you get them all?”

  “Izzy has a fetish for them. She gave me a whole box.”

  Laurel felt a little twinge of envy at the affectionate expression on his face when he spoke of his sister. “I can’t imagine what it’s like having one sibling, much less the fistful you have.”

  They walked back up the stairs, hands still woven together. Somehow, it was that easy camaraderie that underscored how natural their connection had been since the very beginning. She squeezed his hand. “Although I suppose it definitely has its downside.” She laughed when Sean merely snorted.

  “One or two,” he said dryly, tugging her back into the bedroom. “It’s always a bit…boisterous when we’re all together. We spend most of our time dishing it out and trying to save face by taking it better than the other one. I’m not sure if you’ll ever be ready to meet them as a group, but maybe one at a time would keep you from wanting to run screaming into the night.”

  She smiled at that, even as she let out a little gasp upon spying the thick blanket and tray of little white cartons and dishes he’d laid out across her bed. Though her stomach protested the delay, she tugged on his hand so he faced her. “I do want to meet them. And I want you to meet my dad. Family is important.” She reached up and kissed him softly. “I’m sure I’ll love yours.”

  He kissed her back. “Thank you,” he murmured.

  “For?”

  “Being…right.”

  She laughed. “About?”

  “Not about anything. I mean, you’re just…you know…right. For me.” He laughed a bit self-consciously. “I know it sounds corny. But when I was moving in today, my sister Isabel was there, along with my baby brother, Clay. My dad showed up later. And…well, going home for holidays is always like this huge whirlwind of laughter, talk, arguing, kidding around, hugging, then saying goodbye. I used to think that as much as I love seeing everyone, I was lucky for being able to walk away from all the emotional turmoil. It’s an unavoidable part of being from a big family, and I felt like I’d struck the right balance.”

  “Are you second-guessing moving back home?”

  He shook his head. “That’s just it. I’m actually enjoying it. Izzy was asking about you today.”

  “I thought you said she doesn’t know about me.”

  “My older sister knows everything,” he said, and so gravely it made her laugh again. “I didn’t have to tell her I’d met someone. She was already guessing inside the first ten seconds, then proceeded to badger me every chance she got for whatever details she could trick me into revealing.”

  “How’d she do?”

  Sean grinned, surprised by the question. “You don’t seem too annoyed by her tactics.”

  Laurel shrugged. “Did she break you?”

  He puffed up his chest. “You think me incapable of withstanding the interrogation of one lone female?”

  “Only if that lone female happens to be a sister. And an older one to boot.”

  He grinned. “Okay, I copped to having met someone.” He cupped her chin, looked into her eyes. “Someone very special.”

  She’d been ready to tease, enjoyed how easily they did so, so his sudden sincerity left her speechless.

  “Anyway,” he went on softly, “I guess I realized that my instincts have always been to keep things close, the classic don’t ask–don’t tell mentality. And today Isabel was asking me to trust her with something important. She’d just found out some not-so-great news herself and had told me without compunction.” He stroked Laurel’s face. “I realized that it was a lot like what I’d asked of you, to make that leap of faith.”

  “So you told her.” Laurel kissed him. “I’m glad.”

  “Yeah,” he said, his voice a bit more gruff. “Me, too.” He wrapped his arms around her, pressed his face against her hair. “I’m glad to be home. Glad you’re here. It’s more than I’d ever hoped for.”

  “Yeah,” she said, echoing his words. “Me, too.”

  She knew they still had a lot of ground to cover, and not all of it was going to be smooth. But her stomach growled pretty fiercely, ending the moment, making them both laugh.

  “Come on,” he said. “Let’s take this downstairs and heat it up.”

  Laurel stopped Sean from grabbing the tray, pushing him down so he sat on the edge of the bed. She straddled his thighs, then reached down and plucked up the carton closest to her, grabbing a set of chopsticks while she was at it.

  Feeling his bemused gaze on her, she carefully opened the flaps, then groaned as the fragrant steam rose from the lo mein noodles tucked inside. He twitched beneath her, and her sense of purpose was cemented. “Still warm. Here, hold this.”

  He’d been leaning back on his hands, but sat straighter now and took the carton, so she could snap the chopsticks apart. Then she positioned his hand with the carton in it between them. She curled several of the thick, soft noodles on the sticks and lifted them above her head, before slowly sucking them into her mouth.

  He groaned deep in his throat.

  “Hungry?” she asked with mock innocence.

  “Very.” He almost growled the word.

  She dipped the sticks back in the carton and wrapped another cluster of noodles around the slender pieces of balsam. “Here.”

  “Uh-uh. You. Again.”

  Surprised, but definitely turned on by the request, she eyed him as she slowly pulled the end of one noodle in her mouth, then leaned closer to he could take the end of another. Gazes locked, they each pulled the noodles completely into their mouths, then swallowed.

  Breathing a bit heavier, she stuck the sticks back into the carton, but Sean snagged them and the carton and put both on the bed, out of her reach. He pulled her down on top of him, pushed his hands into her hair and took her mouth with such unmitigated hunger that she immediately forgot how hungry she was…for food.

  He rolled her onto her back, among the pillows at the head of the bed, and began to undress her. “It’s like I’m starving,” he murmured, “all the time. And I can’t get enough.”

  She arched as he slid off her skirt and slip, then lifted her arms so her blouse could slide to the floor with them. “Starving,” she agreed, unable to form any real conversation as his tongue dipped into her navel…then progressed lower. Her stockings disappeared, as did her panties. Her inner muscles were clenched so tightly in need she could barely relax enough to let him finish what he was so intent on finishing. And then his tongue touched her and she felt everything unwind into a hot pool of need. She moaned, opened and soared almost the instant he moved on her.

  Her climax had barely subsided, was still shuddering inside her, as she dragged him onto her body. He shoved off his sweats and was inside her a moment later with one, long, growling thrust. “Dear God,” he said, forcing himself to hold still, buried deep inside her.

  She lifted her hips, unable to control herself in the same way. And that was all it took. He lost his control with a vengeance. She met each hard, pistoning thrust gladly, almost gleefully, no longer sure whose moans filled the air. His climax was punctuated with a long, deep growl of satisfaction, and she clung to him, wanting to feel every last vibration and pulse.

  He rolled onto his back, skin damp with sweat, eyes closed as his chest heaved. Laurel curled against his side, pushing damp hair from her face, trying to catch her breath. Even after their panting subsided, they lay tangled together, content to silently stroke each other. She traced fingertips across his chest; he toyed with the ends of her hair.

  “I keep thinking,” she began, her voice still a bit rough, “when we’re apart, that it can’t be as…overwhelmingly right as it seems when we’re together. That my memory must be faulty, or that I’m just wishing it to be that way.” She laid her palm flat on his chest, over the now steady beat of his heart. “So I�
�m always a bit stunned when it’s really all that and more.”

  “I know,” he said, his voice filled with the same sense of wonder. He covered her hand with his, traced her fingers with his. After a long moment he said, “We need to finish this thing. With Bentley.”

  She stilled, but he kept her hand trapped on his chest when she might have pulled it away.

  He continued before she could say anything more. “I know we’ve been moving along at the speed of light since we met. But I’m not in any real mood to slow down. I don’t want to fly under the radar. I don’t want to park a block away near a park and sneak into your house like a thief, just to keep the media from suspecting you might actually have a life.”

  She sat up slowly, looking down at him. “Do you think I enjoy being in the center of all this?”

  He held her gaze steadily. “Of course not.” He held her hand even more tightly against his chest. “In fact, I get the impression that you’re not enjoying much of any part of your job.”

  She looked away then, knowing she was too emotionally vulnerable at the moment to hide her reaction.

  He tugged on her hand until she looked back at him. “I didn’t mean to go there. It’s just a part of you I’ve noticed and I can’t help but be concerned about it. If it helps any, I’m proud of what you do. But I’d be just as proud of you no matter what career path you took. As long as you’re happy.” He wove his fingers through hers, tugged her down until she leaned against his chest. “I didn’t fall in love with the judge—I fell in love with the woman.”

  “What?” she said, not quite sure she’d heard him right. “What did you say?”

  “I said I love you.” He pushed her hair back, tucked it behind her ear. “I want us to be a real ‘us.’ Warts and all.” He smiled and it was such a tender, sweet smile, so at odds with the intense, focused man she knew him to be, she felt tears gather at the corners of her eyes.

  “I want my family to scare the hell out of you,” he went on. “I want your father to put the fear of God into me. And there’s only one thing standing in our way.”