The concept had his groin hardening.
Get a grip, Matteo. The last thing on her mind is sex.
Yet, he’d caught her looks across the table during dinner. Looks which were shy and sweet and—worried.
He hated thinking he might have put that worry in her eyes. That his behavior on the porch might have given her second thoughts, or that his almost-admission in the car could jeopardize this…voltage…between them.
Another bubble of laughter from the living room reinstated his smile. Until he wondered if she’d giggled with her soldier. Probably.
Guilt flashed through him. God, he felt as though he’d betrayed something sacrosanct by falling for Lee.
And there stood the truth.
He was falling for her. He hadn’t said the exact words in the car, but he’d wanted to. Oh, yeah, he had wanted to set them—three prized treasures—into her hands: I love you.
Finished with the dishes, he walked to the living room.
She lounged in a corner of the sofa, and for an instant all Rogan saw were her pale, bare feet—her sexy feet—peeking from the afghan. Wow, was all he could think. A more beautiful sight he had yet to see. She’d taken the crimpy blue thing from her hair, letting the mass spill as a crimson waterfall across her shoulders and down her back. The lamplight gilded her cheeks and shimmered along the tips of her eyelashes.
Danny sat on the floor with a green sofa pillow clutched against his chest and stared up at Lee, and for a second the word “devotion” flickered into Rogan’s mind.
Own up, pal. You’re not far from it yourself.
“Dad.” Danny beamed when he caught sight of him.
Lee straightened to a sitting position. “I was telling him a story.” Pink touched her skin.
Rogan joined them. “You were, huh?” He lifted an eyebrow. “Videogames already boring?”
“Yeah, but guess what, Dad?” Danny jumped to his feet. “Lee used to play in the loft with her friend, Eve. They had a swing rope and jumped in the hay and everything. Isn’t that cool?”
They’d been discussing the barn? “Well,” he said, trying for nonchalance, as if jumping in haylofts were an everyday thing. “The barn was probably in better shape when Miss Lee was little, Dan.”
“Built the summer before I was ten,” she granted. “And I told him to drop the Miss.” She pushed a lock of hair from the boy’s eyes. “I think we’ve passed that phase.”
Something warm streaked through Rogan. Clearing his throat, he said, “Time for bed, buddy.”
Danny kissed Lee’s cheek. “’Night. And don’t forget,” he whispered.
“I won’t. I’ll make a list tonight.”
A list? “Be right back,” Rogan told her.
“Take your time.”
Upstairs, he waited as Danny washed up, brushed his teeth and got into his pajamas. After the boy climbed into bed and Rogan read a few pages from The Hobbit, he turned off the lamp.
“I like Lee, Daddy,” Danny whispered when Rogan kissed his hair, damp from the washcloth. “She tells cool stories. Think she’ll tell me another again, real soon?”
Rogan’s heart ached. “I hope so, buddy.”
“She’s gonna help me pick names for the farm.”
Ah. The list. “That’s great, son. I can’t wait to see which one you’ll choose. ’Night now.”
“’Night.” He snuggled down, then popped back up. “Can we get a puppy? Bobby’s dog had a litter and he’s giving all nine of ’em away.” Danny’s gaze was fixated on Rogan. “He says they’ll be ready for homes in six weeks ’cause their eyes are finally open.”
“Sure. We’ll pick one out next weekend.”
“Yay! Can Lee come, too?”
“If she has the time. Now, it’s time for sleep.” After plugging in the night-light and partially closing the door, Rogan went downstairs. The living room was empty, the afghan gone. He strode through the rooms to the front door.
“There you are,” he said, stepping outside. She sat again in the wooden rocker. Although the night temperature was warmer than usual, he said, “Let me get you a coat before you catch a chill.”
“The blanket is plenty warm.”
He came to stand by her chair. “Sure?”
Looking up, she smiled. “I never knew a lawyer could worry so much. I thought they saw everything through analytical eyes.”
Laughing quietly, he sat in the second chair. “Only on the job. The rest of the time we’re as human as the next guy.”
They gazed at the thumbnail moon climbing the sky.
“Did you get someone to take your route?”
“Peyton Sawyer. He lives on the island.”
“I know Peyton.” Last week, the Desert Storm vet had come in to Rogan’s office to discuss his VA pension. He said, “Seems he was one helluva fighter pilot.”
“He was,” Lee agreed, and he sensed her eyes drilling him. When Rogan remained silent, she went on, “I’m grateful for his experience.”
“But…?”
“Nothing. I’d rather be the one flying my plane.”
“This won’t be the last time you’ll need his help, Lee.” Once the pregnancy advanced, the doctors would give the no-fly order. Not something she would take lightly, he imagined.
“Don’t remind me.”
“Have you thought what you might do?”
As they contemplated the night, she remained silent. On the breeze drifted the intermittent sound of the ocean, while in the pasture the murky shapes of the horses moved closer to the fence. At one point, a low nicker floated through the dark and Rogan wondered if the foal wandered from Juniper’s side.
Into the quiet, Lee said, “I’m going to sell Sky Dash.”
The statement wasn’t one he expected. “Selling is rather final. There have to be other options.”
She pushed out of the chair. “I don’t know any.” With the blanket wrapped around her, she burrowed her hands into the wool. “Would you mind if I went to bed? It’s been a long day.”
Rogan wanted to hold her, to tell her everything would be okay, just as she had in the days he’d sat in her plane. Instead, he laid an arm around her shoulder and his lips against her hair. “Come. I’ll show you your room.”
He led her to a guest room next to his home office on the main floor. During the daylight hours, the windows faced the backyard fringed by a copse of birch. In some ways, it was his favorite room. Peaceful and solitary, it spoke to him. Under the window stood a bed, which he’d made up with sheets and covered with a blue-and-gold comforter before he had stepped onto the porch.
Waiting at the door, he observed her walk over and sink down on the quilt. “Thank you, Rogan.” Her eyes hung on his. “See you in the morning?”
“I’ll be here, but sleep as late as you want, and if you need something in the night the fridge is stocked.”
“All I need is sleep.”
“Okay.” He hesitated, wanting more than anything to step inside and kiss her mouth, her tired eyes, and hold her through the night. Just hold her. But she didn’t encourage him, so he nodded once, patted the doorframe and left.
In her dream, Lee heard a floorboard creak.
Her eyes snapped open to a tarry blackness.
She hadn’t heard the creak in her dream. She heard it somewhere on the main floor, possibly the living room, forty steps from where she lay under the downy quilt.
A light went on, its faint, yellow hue filling the lengthy two-inch rectangle of her semi-closed door. Since childhood, she slept with her door ajar, not closed. Closed meant she couldn’t hear things that went bump in the night.
The way they were now….
The refrigerator door thumped shut; a glass filled. Rogan, she suspected. Pressing the night-glow button on her wristwatch—1:38—she waited for him to finish and head back up the stairs.
The light went out. For two heartbeats silence rang through the house, then she heard the floorboard creak again and his soft footfalls come do
wn the hallway to her room. At her door, he paused and she wondered if he would enter…but no, he retraced his steps.
She pushed back the covers, hurried across the room.
“Rogan,” she called quietly—before she had time to evaluate what she was about to do. At the hall entrance she could see his tall frame stop and turn.
“Lee?” He returned down the hall. “You’re awake.”
“What did you want?” She wished she could see his eyes in the night. Wished he wore more than a pair of sweat pants. At arm’s length, his naked chest mainlined a male musk into her blood.
“I just wanted to make sure you were okay,” he said. “That you weren’t having any more cramps.”
She took his hand, kissed his knuckles. “I’m aware things can go wrong. Stuart and I tried for years to get pregnant. Once I thought I was, then the next month I wasn’t. The stress of trying ended our marriage.” Along with his betrayal. “Thank you for being so concerned.”
His touch caressed her neck, traveled to her cheek. “Do you know how much I want to take you to bed right now?”
Catching his wrist, she pressed his palm against her collarbones where her heart rate gathered speed. “Me, too.”
“Lee…”
“It’s okay, Rogan.”
“This isn’t a good idea. We can’t—I mean…Hell, now you’ll think all I want is sex when that’s not what you need right now.”
“Who says I don’t need it?”
“But your cramps…”
“Come and gone. I haven’t felt anything since noon. I’m okay, really.” She offered a shy smile. “Will Danny be okay for an hour?”
“Yeah.” A tweak of amusement tugged at his voice. “He’s practically unconscious.”
“All right, then.” Taking his hand, she led him into the guest room, and to the narrow bed. Selfish or not, she wanted this night with him. She wanted a man’s arms around her for a few hours. Not a man’s—Rogan’s. When had she begun feeling these deep emotions, deeper than what she’d felt for any man, including her husband?
The moment you met this man.
Mentally, she slapped the thought away. This was a night for creature comforts. What had her friend, Lily, said this afternoon when Lee called the doctor for a second opinion? “You need down time. Go to a spa, have a pedicure, read a book. Heck, go out on a date…”
A date with benefits, perhaps?
Except deep in her core, Lee’s spirit rebelled. This was not a “with benefits” situation. This dealt with the heart.
Pressing her lips together, she climbed beneath the quilt. The moon’s pale light washed the unadorned window, acclimatizing her eyes to the night, to him.
“Rogan?” Hoping her hands were steady, she held the comforter open in welcome.
Motionless, he stood by the bed, looking down at her. “Do you have any idea how sexy you are wearing my T-shirt with your hair down?” Leaning in, he gave her an openmouthed kiss. “And in the moonlight.”
She flushed. “I like wearing your shirt. It brings you closer.”
Slipping beside her, he snuggled her into his arms, kissed her again. “How’s this for closeness?”
“Much better.” She felt his rising strength press against her stomach as they lay in the cozy confines of the bed.
In her mouth his tongue was a dueling partner. Under her shirt his palm and fingers tenderly touched her sensitized breasts.
“Ah, Lee. So warm, so soft.” More kissing. “I want to make love with you more than anything in the world.”
“I want to make love, too.”
Through the loose flannel of his sweats, his arousal stood hard, ready. Closing her hand around him, she catalogued his size and shape through the soft fabric.
A groan rumbled from his chest and he tugged her fingers free. “Stop or I’ll lose control.”
“I want you to lose it,” she whispered, slipping her hand into his sweats, diving for the heat, the steel of him.
“Lee.” Again, he captured her hands. Fingertip kisses punctuating his words, he chided, “Give me a minute. It’s been a long time and I’d rather not react like a randy teenager with you. I want to go slow, be a gentleman.”
Smiling against his chest, she inhaled his scent. “All that Southern hospitality makes me so hot.” He intoxicated her with his sensitivity, his concern. “I won’t break, Rogan. I promise.”
“I couldn’t handle it if something went wrong…afterwards.”
He was thinking of Darby. Lee stroked his chest, his flat abdomen. She did not want his dead wife in their bed. She did not want Abner Air in this bed. Or Stuart or Oliver. Tonight was hers and Rogan’s. “Let’s get naked,” she said, catching hold of his waistband.
“You sure?”
“Oh, yeah.”
For a fistful of seconds, they lay still, then both reacted at once, stripping shirts and sweats and panties until they were flesh to flesh and he had his tongue in her mouth, and she wriggled her body under his weight. Her legs secured his hips and she towed him into her before he had time to change his mind.
“Lee,” he cried, a joyful sound that sent a sweet current streaming through her veins.
She drove her hands into the thickness of his hair, over his shoulders, down the curve of his spine, discerning the plane of his body with her palms, while his mobile kisses vacillated from passionate to tender and back again, and she thought she might faint from the pleasure. Hips bumping hers, he began to move.
Slowly, sensually.
“Lee,” he said again. “You’ve caught my heart.”
She replied with long, lingering kisses.
After a few moments, he rolled with her so she rested above him. “This is easier for you,” he whispered.
His consideration stung her eyes.
“You okay?”
“Don’t stop. I’m flying.”
His chest vibrated on a chuckle. “My sweet pilot. I’ll fly with you forever.” He stroked her hair, her breasts; rested his large, warm hands against the microscopic mound of her stomach. Moonlight dipped through the window, touched his serious mouth.
“Come here,” he said, bringing her down on his chest.
With utmost care, he moved against her—curve to angle, soft to hard, texture to taste. And when at last they flew into the night, she hung his name in the stars.
Resting her head on his chest, she listened to the strong tempo of his heart as he toyed with her fingers on his belly.
“I love you, Lee,” he said in a deep, quiet voice. “I want to marry you, give the baby a family.”
“Oh, my,” she whispered, panic and wonder tripping her pulse rate. “The moon really does affect the psyche.”
“It’s not the moon,” he said gruffly. “Just the truth.”
She couldn’t speak, couldn’t breathe. “I thought…”
“That I was simply keeping a vow I made at the clinic? That I’d walk away once you healed?”
“This afternoon you wanted me to stay for Danny’s sake.”
“This afternoon I didn’t know how else to keep you here, how else to convince you to stay for our sake.”
Her heart banged her ribs. He loved her. He wanted to marry her. He wanted her to live in this lovely, old house as a family. He was proposing—in a roundabout way—what she knew her father offered Charmaine thirty-seven years ago, after they conceived Lee.
And you know how that ended.
Three years later, Steven Tait walked away from his wife and daughter, never to return.
Lee chewed the inside of her cheek. Rogan was not Steven Tait. He already had a child and he had not made Lee pregnant.
But the scenario embraced too many similarities—and adversities. And she had yet to talk about Abner Air, expand on what she’d told him tonight on his porch.
But, oh…could she take a chance on him? Should she?
“We’ve known each other what, three weeks?” she asked, pursuing the logical element of the argument. “Only tee
nagers fall in love that quick.”
“I never fell in love until I was twenty-two and met Darby.”
“Was it fast with her, too?”
“No, we were friends first. She was studying to be a paralegal. We’d meet in this coffee house to talk textbook cases. As time went on things got more serious and about two years from the day we met, we married. And even then I wasn’t aware she had depression problems. She didn’t tell me until five months after the wedding.”
“Are you saying you wouldn’t have married her if you’d known?”
“Not at all. I loved her. But had she trusted me from the get-go, our marriage might have been stronger. I might have been able to prepare better for our future. And I wouldn’t have felt…I don’t know…like I wasn’t trustworthy.”
“Maybe she was afraid to tell you,” Lee whispered, thinking of her own secret, of the pilot flying Darby into a forest, the pilot Lee should have reported.
“Maybe,” he conceded.
“And sometimes a person isn’t as strong as they would like to be, or as others perceive them to be. Sometimes there are invisible factors beneath the surface they’d rather keep hidden.”
Rogan shifted so his head lay on her pillow, his face inches from hers. “What is it, Lee? What are you trying to say? That you’re not a good person because you own a plane that once belonged to the man responsible for taking shortcuts with his fleet?”
Her pulse pounded behind her tongue. “The plane has nothing to do with it.”
“Then what?”
“Nothing. Let’s go to sleep.” As if she could.
He touched her lips with his thumb. “I’ll be forty soon. I’ve seen a lot in the seventeen years since I met Darby and, yes, it’s been less than a month since you and I met. But I know what I want in life, what I feel. Right here.” He tapped his chest. “That said, if you need time, honey, take it.” He kissed her nose. “I’m not going anywhere.”
And Baby Makes Four Page 13