Gifts of Honor: Starting from ScratchHero's Homecoming

by Gail, Stacy

  This couldn’t be happening. It couldn’t be. Life couldn’t be that cruel, could it?

  The desire in Sully’s expression mingled with a flare of concern. “Lucy? What’s wrong? Don’t tell me you didn’t enjoy that as much as I did.”

  “Sullivan.” Please remember me. Oh God, please... “Do you remember our first kiss?”

  The edgy passion she could see in him vanished as suddenly as if a switch had been thrown. “As far as I’m concerned, that was our first kiss.”

  Hope flickered and died. Her legs went out from under her, and if the stool hadn’t been there she would have hit the floor, right along with her heart. For an instant it was almost as bad as losing him all over again, only this time she had no one to blame but herself. What an ass she was, getting her sappy fantasy mixed up with reality. There were no miracle kisses that could wake her masculine version of Sleeping Beauty.

  She was such an idiot.

  “Lucy.” Sully cupped her chin in his hand. “Talk to me. Please.”

  “When you kissed me, I thought you remembered...” I mattered to you. “I just thought you remembered. Why else would you bounce in here out of the blue and kiss me like that?”

  “That wasn’t the original plan.” With a curious tenderness, he brushed at a tendril that had come loose from her bun. “I came to apologize for being the source of your misery, but I couldn’t find words big enough to make it all better. So I kissed you instead.”

  The knot that formed in her throat almost strangled her, and she took a moment to make sure she could talk. “Is that so?”

  “That’s so. Not to mention you’re quite possibly the most irresistible woman I’ve ever met. I couldn’t help myself.”

  “You have RA. You don’t remember all the women you’ve met.”

  “Call it a guy instinct. Guys just know these things.”

  “You don’t say.” That was such vintage Sully charm she didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. She split the difference by forcing a smile, making a stab at appearing normal as she looked back to where she’d laid the decorating bag. “Dammit. Ruined a cookie.” Pulling the Santa’s face covered in smeared icing out from under the bag, she frowned at the mess before holding it out. “One of the perks of knowing a baker—you get to destroy the mistakes by eating the evidence. Open wide.”

  “Your wish is my command.” Instead of taking it from her, he surprised her by guiding her hand to his mouth while his gaze held on to hers and refused to let go. His teeth sank in, but with his eyes making bold love to hers she could easily imagine him taking a sweet love-bite at the place where neck met shoulder. Or on the slope of her breast. Or on her inner thigh, sucking on the sensitized flesh until he had left his personal mark there. Then he would slide his attention upward to her hidden core, parting her legs wide with confident, caressing hands, and she would let him, eager and ready for him to explore the—

  “Sully! This is a wonderful surprise.” Pauline’s voice sliced through the fantasy Lucy could see in the smoldering green depths of Sully’s eyes, a fantasy in which part of her hungered to play a starring role. On a tremulous breath she looked away, trying to get her thoughts in order, but it was a lost cause. Who would have thought Sully could still be attracted to her, despite having no memory of who she was? It was enough to boggle the mind. Until that moment, it had never occurred to her that a relationship might still be possible with him, a man who didn’t know her. But it could be done. It would be like starting from scratch—two strangers hoping to connect through a physical attraction that was off the charts. People the world over did that every day, so why couldn’t they?

  Because they weren’t two strangers, came the brutal reply. They had once been married, for God’s sake. That wasn’t something she could just forget.

  But Sully had forgotten it. Their shared history was no longer shared, not in the strictest sense, and in the past year they’d gone their separate ways. They had evolved into different people, to the point where they could now fit into the category of strangers. If she looked at it from that perspective, maybe there was no harm in exploring the physical attraction between them.

  Or maybe she was so pathetic in her desperation to have him back in her life she was willing to believe she’d be content with nothing more than lusty tussling between the sheets.

  “Pauline.” Belatedly Lucy recognized the blankness in Sully’s expression as he polished off the rest of the cookie, and came to the rescue. “Sullivan, this is Pauline Padgett, Bitterthorn’s version of Willy Wonka. Her pralines-and-cream ice cream has won just about every blue ribbon in the state of Texas, so don’t forget to give it a try. Pauline, I hope you don’t mind Sullivan helping me get rid of my decorating boo-boos.”

  “Honey, that’s what the men are for.” A flash of disappointment that Sully had no recollection of her passed through the older woman’s expression before she surveyed the workstation. “Around this time of year, we women use you men as walking garbage disposals.”

  “I’m not complaining, though I probably should.” With a rueful sigh, Sully patted his flat stomach. “I’m going to have to go on a diet after the holidays. Speaking of which,” he added, sliding a glance at Lucy, “my dad would love it if you could manage to replace the cookies I sort plowed through already.”

  “What about your box of cookies?” At his sheepish look, her jaw unhinged. “Okay, that’s not even possible. There were thirty cookies apiece in those boxes.”

  “It’s your fault. They’re like the crack of the cookie world. Small and crisp, and a perfect blend of spice and the tang of vanilla and molasses, with that creamy sweetness of the powdered sugar...” He looked at the work station and sighed. “Do me a favor and mess up another cookie, okay? I’ve made myself hungry.”

  “News flash, these aren’t Pfeffernüsse.”

  “Are you seriously going to stand in the way of a man struggling with a sugar addiction?”

  “I’ve always loved living dangerously.” But she took pity on him and gave him another cookie, this time a snowman whose face was wonky in a Picasso sort of way. “Tell your addiction and your dad that I do have some Pfeffernüsse curing at my place. They taste better after about a week in order for the spices to blend. But if your dad wants some now...”

  “I’ll pick them up at your place after work tonight, if that’s okay.” He took the Picasso snowman cookie and gave her a wink. “We Jax men aren’t known for our patience.”

  “And I doubt they’re known for their subtlety either.” Pauline’s brows were trying to climb into her hairline once they were alone. “His head still isn’t right, Lucy. I don’t know what might be going on in your mind and no one knows what’s going on in his, but there’s one thing I do know—of the two of you, you’re the one who’s still in love. You wouldn’t do something foolish, like forgetting that, would you?”

  “That’s the one thing I’m not sure of.” But after a kiss like that, Sully wasn’t the only one dealing with a possible addiction.

  * * *

  A bluesy song crooned in the background, subtle enough to calm Lucy’s jittery nerves. The scent of her dinner—a single portion of a lasagna she’d made earlier in the week—perfumed the air. She’d changed out of her grungy work clothes into a pair of worn jeans, scarlet sweater and striped blanket socks, an outfit she would have worn after work at any other time, on any other day.

  Except this wasn’t any other time, on any other day. For the first time since before they’d gotten married, Sully was dropping by to see her.

  “He’s just coming to pick up cookies, for God’s sake, not spending the night.” Exasperated with her nervous schoolgirl reaction to Sully’s anticipated appearance, Lucy refused to once again check her reflection. Instead she rearranged magazines on the coffee table into a perfectly symmetrical fan. It was Sully’s fault she’d turned into an abso
lute basket case. This casual meeting would have been so much simpler if he hadn’t kissed her—a kiss that was now playing on an infinite loop in her head no matter how hard she tried to shut it down. If he hadn’t done that, she could have just given him his cookies without batting an eye. No muss, no fuss, drive carefully and bye-bye.

  Instead, here she was making fan designs out of magazines.

  The hell of it was, she’d been doing okay. One second she’d been doing her Scrooge-iest best to avoid anything Christmassy by listening to some classic Queen’s “Bohemian Rhapsody,” and the next Sully was making love to her mouth. Not because he remembered her. No. He’d just come in and laid one on her rather than apologizing for being the sorest spot in her life.

  And wow, had she kissed him back. Kissed him, and loved every heart-stopping, giddy-making moment of it. But now that sanity had returned, she couldn’t help but wish a shade wistfully that he’d just offered up a quick “sorry” and gotten out of there. That damned kiss opened a world of dangerous possibilities to her. Possibilities like kissing him again. Possibilities like having an affair with a man who’d once been her husband. Possibilities like doing her damnedest to make him fall in love with her all over again.

  “Ugh, you’ve got to be kidding me.” She heard the disgust in her tone and had to shake her head. This scenario was messed up enough without her brain dragging love into it. Sure, Sully made her as hot as the core of the sun, he always had. And in the past she’d been free to let her heart get tangled up in that desire. But not now. Hearts and flowers couldn’t be a part of the equation if she had an an affair with her ex-husband; it would be emotional suicide. An affair with Sully would have to be kept on a level of healthy, uncomplicated lust. And that was all.

  The question was, could she do it?

  The knock on the front door had her almost jumping out of her blanket socks. Then she smoothed a hand over her hair and put on her best casual smile. For now it was just about cookies, she told herself as she headed for the door. Nothing more.

  “Hi.” Lucy’s mouth went desert-dry as she tried not to stare. Sullivan had always been a heartbreaker, with velvety dark brown hair, green eyes, high cheekbones any woman would kill to have and a mouth that looked like it had been created for the sole purpose of bringing the female population to its knees. He was dressed in the same blue jeans, button-down shirt and jacket he’d worn earlier, a fact that made her vastly relieved she hadn’t shown up at the door in see-through lingerie.

  His smile flashed. “Hi, yourself. Do I get to come in or would that upset your two-legged guard dog?”

  For only a moment she drew a blank before she waved him in. “Coe’s been watching out for me since we were kids. Old habits die hard, I guess.”

  Sully sent a dark glance down the wooden stairs before entering. “That’s quite a habit to have.”

  “We grew up in Garden Court. We might have had a roof over our heads, but it’s still a stigma here in Bitterthorn. It makes you protective of your own.” On her way to where the box of cookies sat on the kitchen island, she glanced back over her shoulder. “Do you remember what Garden Court is?”

  “Strangely enough, I do. I just don’t remember that you grew up there.”

  Surprise, surprise. “You and Coe have always been bristly around each other, so don’t take it personally. It’s just a matter of two alpha dogs being within snapping distance of each other.”

  “It could be that. Or it could be something else entirely.” He looked through the industrial-style windows to the street below, then around the room. “You don’t have any Christmas decorations up yet. Have you been too busy supplying everyone with your sugarcoated version of Christmas crack?”

  “You’re the only one who’s gone crazy for the Pfeffernüsse this year. Last year was busier.” And they’d been together this time last year. Trembling on the edge of the end, but still together.

  “A tree would look great right about here. If you put it right up against the window people would be able to get a glimpse of it from below. And with this high ceiling, you wouldn’t have to worry about size.”

  “I’m giving Christmas a skip this year.”

  “Why?” Then his expression changed, became guarded. “Is it because of me?”

  Yes. “I just don’t have the Christmas spirit. Coe says I’m making elves explode with my bah-humbug attitude, but I’m thinking Christmas will get along just fine without me having to deck my halls or jingle anyone’s bells.”

  “Do me a favor and don’t mention your pal Coe again. At least not in the same sentence with jingling someone’s bells.”

  Lucy gaped, shocked at the suddenly hostile tone. If she didn’t know any better—and she did—she would have thought he was jealous. “He’s like my brother. Trust me, he feels the same way.”

  “You might think that, but I know better.” He joined her at the island, leaned a hand on it and brought their faces close enough for her lips to be feathered by his breath. “Guys don’t have women like you as buddies.”

  Things would get complicated fast if she melted right there at his feet. “Women like me? I think you’d better explain that one before I get huffy and show you my killer ninja skills.”

  “Beautiful. Funny. Talented.” He tilted his head, a motion that had her pulse tripping over itself. “Sexy as hell.”

  “All that, plus sexy?” She bit her lower lip, struggling to unplug her emotions and simply enjoy the physical rush of having him near. “First a kiss, and now flirting. Did you eat your Wheaties this morning?”

  “I polished off the last of your cookies, actually, and their scent is almost exactly like yours.” He lifted her chin, and she heard him take a savoring breath. “It makes me so crazy, I can’t begin to explain it. All I can think about is taking a bite out of you. So...I think I will.”

  Chapter Six

  Lucy was certain he could hear her heartbeat as the warmth of his hand dissolved any hope of holding on to her sanity. The pressure of his thumb on her chin freed her lower lip from her teeth in time for his mouth to close in on it. He kissed her with a bold confidence that was staggering—as if he had every right to, as if he could remember the way he’d always kissed her. Though she tried to keep past and present separated, they jumbled together as need devoured whatever common sense she had. She’d missed this—being held by him, loved by him, filled with him. The yearning for Sully was always there, a low hum she could almost ignore if she kept herself busy enough. But when he touched her it uncorked the stopper she’d slammed over her aching need, unleashing her hunger until it was all she knew.

  A rough sound grated deep in his throat as her lips opened under his. Gently he bit at her tongue before he licked away the teasing pain, then ground his hips into hers. The growing bulge behind his zipper was impossible to miss, a clear statement of his raging lust. His hands slid down her body to fill his palms with the swell of her bottom, pulling her against his lengthening hardness. Her breath caught while the emptiness between her legs grew molten with the slick heat of desire. It had been so long since she’d been in his arms, so long since he’d left her alone. To have him back where he belonged was better than any dream.

  “I want you.” His mouth left hers to nip along her jawline, as if he wanted to devour her. “I don’t know if it’s been as long a dry spell for you as it has been for me, but if I don’t get inside you now I feel like I’m going to explode.”

  For a full second the words had no meaning. They slid along the lush desire blanketing her mind, before slowly sinking in. The shock wave that came with belated understanding sent an arctic blast over the fiery hunger, snuffing it out as if it had never been. She was just so stupid to keep getting caught in these pitfalls of believing she could snap her fingers and get back the life she’d had. The man she’d had. The old Sully would never have tolerated the idea that there were other lo
vers in her life. But this new Sully shrugged it off as no big thing, because...

  He didn’t care.

  At first he didn’t seem to be aware she no longer responded. But when she pushed against his chest and turned out of his arms he at last surfaced to search her face with eyes so hot she could all but feel the burn along her skin.

  “What, Lucy?” His breath was as rough as she felt, but she took no pleasure in hearing it. With his words echoing in her ears—words her Sullivan never would have uttered—she couldn’t feel anything but a terrible, invasive despair. “What’s wrong?”

  “I keep forgetting you’re not you anymore.” Much to her horror, her voice cracked under the weight of unshed tears. So much for putting on a brave face. “Or, maybe I should say we’re no longer us. There’s a you and a me, but if I can’t get my head around the fact that there’s no us anymore, this whole thing is going to end in a huge train wreck.”

  “How can you equate making out with a train wreck, especially when it’s this good? I’m so hot for you I might spontaneously combust, and if the way you were responding was any indication, you feel the same way.”

  “That’s the problem. We don’t feel the same. Right now you’re horny as hell—”

  “Damn straight.”

  “—whereas I’m struggling because I’m still in love with my husband, Sullivan.”

  For a moment he was the picture of a man who’d been hit with a brick, before he took a step back. Lucy’s heart sank. Damn. He may as well have hung a sign around his neck that proclaimed he was now searching for the nearest set of hills to head for.

  “Okay. I get that.” He nodded, sounding almost reasonable. “The thing is, I’m Sullivan, so I don’t understand why you’re suddenly applying the brakes.”

  “Do you really want me to still be in love with you? Do you want to hold my heart in your hands? Do you want the responsibility of not shattering it, and treating it as the only real gift I’ve ever given anyone? Answer honestly.” Please say it’s what you want. Please...