Yours at Midnight

by Robin Bielman

  Max nodded.

  “How about I…” He hesitated. “How about I take you to the park? We could go down some slides.”

  Max wiggled free and quickly ran out of the kitchen. Teddy took chase, obviously just as enamored with Max as he was with Lyric.

  What had he said wrong? He looked to Caroline for help.

  She smiled warmly. “Stop frowning. He’s just going to get his jacket.”

  “Oh. Okay.” Happiness and anticipation spread through his veins. Max had jumped at the chance to go to the park with him. Quinn felt like he’d won a prize, the friendship between him and Max unexpected, but welcome. He stood and took a quick bite of cornbread. “Save my chili?”

  “Of course.” Caroline put a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry. You can’t go wrong at the park.”

  “Do I look worried?”

  “You look terrified. But in a good way.” She smiled again. What the hell was that supposed to mean? “How about a thermos of hot chocolate to go? It’s pretty chilly outside.”

  More strange feelings welled in his chest. Caroline doted on her grandson. She doted on Quinn. Family, he realized, meant something significant.

  Significance he’d ignored for far too long.

  “That sounds great. Thanks.”

  Max ran into the kitchen carrying a black puffy jacket, and thrust it at him. Quinn helped him into it. His little arms looked stiff and uncomfortable once he was zipped. They reminded Quinn of the time his dad had taken him to Mammoth for the first time and he’d been stuffed into a snowsuit.

  Max put his hand into Quinn’s. Quinn’s chest tightened. This little person was Lyric’s. He was part of her. And Quinn would do anything to keep him safe. Happy.

  “What’s going on?” came a shocked voice from behind him.

  Lyric.

  He and Max spun around. “We’re going to the park, Mama.”

  Lines etched Lyric’s forehead. Shock and worry. Still beautiful, though. Her cheeks were flushed, her auburn hair in wavy disarray around her shoulders, her black coat cinched at the waist.

  “You are?” She moved her gaze from him to Max. Her clear adoration squeezed his heart. He wanted her to look at him like that.

  Caroline handed him a thermos. “You two are all set.”

  “Would you like to join us?” he asked Lyric. He gave silent thanks that she’d walked in before they’d left. Not because he didn’t want to be alone with Max—but because he wanted to be with her, too. So damn bad it hurt.

  “I’d love to,” she said.

  “Let’s go then.” He gave her his arm. She took it, and the three of them headed to the park.

  And for the first time in his life, Quinn felt complete and utter peace.

  Chapter Six

  “You can go higher than that,” Quinn called out.

  “I could,” Lyric hollered back, pumping her legs back and forth on the swing. But she was perfectly happy swinging at her current height. This way, she could watch Quinn and Max without the tops of their heads vanishing every three seconds.

  Quinn and Max.

  They were digging in the sand looking for treasure, using blue plastic shovels someone had left behind. Lyric couldn’t hear what they were saying, but Max looked positively enamored with Quinn, giggling every time Quinn did something silly like let his hand jerk so the shovel came back and thwacked him in the forehead.

  Every thwack released another butterfly in her stomach.

  She had to tell him.

  The way Max had taken to Quinn without a second thought made her dizzy. He didn’t usually warm up to people so quickly. Was it possible he sensed Quinn was different? Was it possible the three of them could be a family?

  Max stood and climbed the ladder for the slide. Quinn moved to catch him at the bottom, as if he’d moved that way a hundred times before. Max grinned all the way down into Quinn’s arms; Quinn lifted him into the air and swung him around before putting his feet back in the sand.

  “Again!” Max said, and raced to the ladder.

  Lyric could have swung and watched them play together all day. Nothing compared to seeing Quinn so at ease with their son. So equally enamored.

  She flung herself off the swing. “Hey, can I play too?”

  “Come on, Mama.” Max waved her over.

  When it was her turn to slide, Quinn knelt and waited for her at the bottom, too. Max stood beside him, a hand on Quinn’s shoulder, a proud grin on his face.

  “Go, Mama!”

  She went, her heart thudding in her chest because the man she’d told herself never to fall for had her entire body trembling.

  Quinn trapped her at the bottom, his arms on either side of her, her knees almost touching his chest. Max cheered, then skipped over to the shovels and started digging again.

  “Hi,” Quinn said.

  “Hi.”

  “Anyone ever tell you, you make a funny face when you go down the slide?”

  “I do not.”

  “How do you know?” His breath floated in the air. She wanted to feel it over every inch of her skin.

  “Because.” She shivered—from more than the cold temperature.

  “Is that the standard mom answer to questions you know you’re wrong about?” He cut a quick glance to Max. He’d kept a protective eye on Max all afternoon.

  She wanted to kiss him. She wanted to lean in and suck on his bottom lip, taste and tease him, and tell him without words how the past was forgotten and she liked this new Quinn. She liked him very much.

  “Maybe,” she said.

  “Then I feel it’s my duty to coach you on the art of the perfect answer.”

  “Oh really?” She couldn’t stop the corners of her mouth from lifting. “You’ve got all the right answers?”

  He raised one eyebrow. “I’ve got the perfect answers. There’s a difference.” He shifted slightly so her knees skimmed his chest. The move made the space around them more intimate, but kept her at a safe distance.

  “So if I ask you a question—”

  “Nothing that starts with why.”

  “You’ll give me the perfect answer.” She glanced at Max. He was happily building a sand tower.

  “Yes.” Quinn leaned forward, annihilating their safe distance and grazing her earlobe with his mouth. “Make it a good question.”

  Holy sand trap, she wanted to fall back on the slide and pull him down on top of her. Run her fingers through his hair and ask him to put his mouth to better use than talking.

  Quinn stayed put. If she turned her head ever so slightly, she could press her lips to his cheek, feel the stubble on his jaw.

  “Go ahead, Lyric,” he whispered. “Ask me anything.”

  He breathed her in, a slow, deep breath in through his nose, that made her own breathing ragged, her breasts tingle, her legs fall open so he could move his body closer.

  Funny how she’d been so worried about his questions, and now she held all the power. She wanted to ask him to come home with her. To keep her company tonight while Max was with his cousins. To not talk, just do. No one had done anything to her in a very long time.

  His mouth grazed her neck, his hand moved up her back. Oh, God. She was seconds away from pleasure overwhelming her.

  “Mama?”

  Quinn jerked back so fast he knocked Max over. Lyric scrambled off the slide, but Quinn was faster, and scooped Max up the second his bottom hit the sand.

  “Sorry, buddy. You okay?”

  Max’s eyes immediately welled with tears, and he reached for Lyric.

  She wrapped him in her arms and held him close, then rocked back and forth. What was she thinking, getting so caught up in Quinn? She’d been about to make out with him in her neighborhood park. Talk about a terrible mom.

  “We should head back,” she said.<
br />
  “Sure.” Quinn put a hand on Max’s back and rubbed up and down. “Sorry, pal. I didn’t mean to knock you down.”

  If Max hadn’t had his thumb in his mouth, Lyric would like to think he’d say it’s okay.

  But as perfect as the afternoon had been, things were far from okay.

  They walked home in silence. Christmas lights still decorated many of the houses, and when they passed the one with the giant, inflatable Frosty the Snowman on the front lawn, Max squirmed out of Lyric’s arms so he could get a nice, long look.

  “Lyric?” Quinn said, taking her hand. They stood side-by-side behind Max.

  “Yes?”

  “You’re an amazing mother.”

  …

  “Teddy?” Quinn shouted. He checked the kitchen and laundry room. Nothing. “Teddy, where are you?” He moved to the living room, took a look behind the Christmas tree—Teddy’s favorite napping spot. No luck. “Shit.”

  He quickly tossed off his sweaty shirt and found a clean one. With a small towel, he wiped his brow and headed out the front door. His five-mile run had done little to curb the tension in his muscles, and Lyric probably wouldn’t he happy to see him after he’d hurt Max at the park, but he had a feeling he knew exactly where he’d find Teddy.

  The inky black silhouette of the trees against a full moon sky kept him company on his way next door. The scent of burning wood filled the air. He knocked on her door.

  She opened it, wearing striped purple and white pajama bottoms and a purple long-sleeved tee that said Sweet Dreams across the chest. Her hair was a mess atop her head, what looked like a colored pencil holding it in place.

  Her eyes widened. “I thought you were Ella.”

  His eyes might have zeroed in on her nipples before he remembered his manners. “Sorry. I came to see if Teddy was here. This is his favorite hideout, right?”

  She swung the door wide. “It is.”

  Teddy sat curled up by the fireplace, sound asleep, the flames illuminating his golden fur.

  Quinn didn’t wait for an invitation to go inside. “Why didn’t you bring him back? I was worried.”

  Lyric peeked outside before she turned to him, shrugged, and pushed the door shut. “I didn’t want to bother you. Figured I’d give you a night off from dog duty.”

  “Didn’t want to bother me or didn’t want to see me?”

  “I was going to call,” she said.

  “Uh-huh.” He ambled around the room. “Is Max here?”

  She nibbled her bottom lip. “No. He’s staying in the house with his cousins this week. They camp out in the living room every night.”

  “How’s he doing?” He hadn’t stopped thinking about how the little guy’s eyes had filled with tears when Quinn knocked him over.

  “He’s fine.” She sat on the couch and pulled her legs up to a crisscross position. “He forgot all about falling a minute after it happened.”

  He joined her on the couch. “Really? Kids work that way?”

  “Yes.” Something flashed in her eyes—apology, maybe. But why? He was the one who’d knocked Max down. “So don’t give it another thought.”

  “No problem. I’m thinking totally different thoughts now.” His gaze moved to the pulse in her neck, to the way her shirt pulled across her chest.

  She got to her feet. He grabbed her wrist and tugged her back to the couch.

  “Quinn! We are not doing this.” Yet she didn’t try to get away from him again.

  “This?” He held loosely to her arm.

  “You know what I’m talking about. This.” She waved her hand between them. “This…whatever is going on between us. Besides, you’re smelly and gross.”

  She had him there. “You’re right. I could use a shower. Want to wash my back?”

  “Quinn. You need to stop.” She leaned a tad closer to him, though. Her lips remained parted.

  It took every goddamn ounce of control he had, but he released her and leaned back.

  “What are you doing?” She sat up on her knees. Her frown might damn well be the sexiest disappointment he’d ever seen.

  “You asked me to stop.” He shrugged one shoulder.

  She stared down at him. “I didn’t…” Her fathomless blue eyes held his. Her tongue slipped out between the seam of her full lips.

  He nearly groaned. The things he wanted her to do with that soft, pink mouth…

  “I didn’t mean it,” she said softly.

  Quinn gulped. “I need you to tell me.”

  Her breath hitched. “Tell you what?”

  “That you want me as much as I want you. That you won’t think this is another mistake.”

  “I never honestly thought that. But if I think too hard about this, I—”

  He put a finger to her lips. She was right. Sleeping together wasn’t the best idea, considering he had a plane to catch in three days. But hell if he didn’t want to get as close to her as possible during those days. And when he left, he wouldn’t sneak away, ashamed of his actions. He’d kiss her goodbye and call her the next day. Try to start something with her. Something real.

  She straddled him, braced one hand on his shoulder, and used the other to hold his wrist so she could drop delicate kisses to his knuckles. Heat lanced through him, blazing a path to his cock. He pulled his hand back and slid his arms around her hips until his palms cupped her ass.

  “Better than I remember,” he said, bringing her closer.

  “Thanks.” She writhed against him, the flimsy material of her pajamas and the thin layer of his running shorts leaving little barrier to his growing erection. “You too.”

  “At the park today—” His breath hitched. He matched her fluid movements. “You looked like you were seeing something for the first time.” He couldn’t get her look of wonder out of his head, like she was trying to figure out a puzzle.

  She pressed against him a little more tightly. Dug her nails into his shoulder blades. “Nope. I saw a slide. Monkey bars. And a very adorable little boy.”

  “Know what I saw?”

  Her eyes drifted shut and she shook her head. She continued to rock against him. He waited until she lifted her lids. He saw pure, unbidden desire in their depths.

  “Ask me,” he said.

  “What did you see?” she asked, watching him from beneath long, thick eyelashes.

  “I saw a woman who’s strong and determined. A woman I want to make proud. I saw a mom who loves her son with everything she’s got—and for a little while today, she looked at me with fondness.”

  “Oh, Quinn.” She cupped his cheek. Her gaze moved to his mouth. She leaned down and—

  The front door flew open. “Sorry I’m laaa—”

  Lyric leaped off him. Ella covered her eyes with her hands. “Late,” Ella said. “Sorry I’m late, but I can definitely come back later.” She spun on her heel.

  “It’s okay, El. Stay,” Lyric said.

  Quinn pushed himself up and hoped Ella didn’t notice how, uh, happy Lyric had been making him. He wanted to vote for Ella to leave, but they obviously had something planned.

  Ella turned back around. “You sure?” She looked at Lyric, then Quinn. “Because what he’s offering is way better than what I am.”

  “El!” Now it was Lyric’s turn to cover her face with her hands.

  An embarrassed Lyric was a very cute Lyric. Quinn smiled at Ella. She grinned back. Her approval meant a lot to him. Ella had been Team Oliver growing up, too, but being that she was four years older, she hadn’t paid Quinn negative attention. Just zero attention.

  “What? He’s adorable, Lyr, and you’ve been out of commission for way too—”

  Lyric dropped her arms. “Stop! Just stop talking, okay?”

  Teddy lifted his head to look at Lyric, then went right back to snoozing.

 
“You know that’s difficult for me.” Ella moved to the couch and plopped down. “So, Quinn—Lyric and I were supposed to label all the CDs tonight for party favors. Want to help? Or better yet, take my place? I promised Zane some holiday games in bed tonight. The sooner we get started, the more playing time.”

  “Holiday games?” Quinn asked. He could think of a few games he’d like to play with Lyric.

  “Oh my God! Will you please shut up?” Lyric grabbed Quinn’s arm and pushed him toward the door. “Quinn is leaving and you’re staying.”

  “Don’t I get a vote?” Quinn asked.

  “Yeah. Doesn’t he get a vote?” Ella exchanged a partners-in-crime look with him.

  “No one gets a vote but me.”

  “This bossiness of yours is a real turn on.” He stopped their momentum. She bumped into him and harrumphed.

  “Oh, you have no idea how bossy she can be. One time—”

  “Seriously, El. I’m going to cut out your tongue if you don’t shut up.” She opened the door. “Say goodbye to Quinn.”

  “Goodbye to Quinn. And sorry, dude. I tried.”

  “Thanks, Ella.” He waved farewell, then bent to murmur in Lyric’s ear. “Could I see you for a quick second outside?” He didn’t give her a chance to answer. He tugged her out with him and closed the door.

  Then before she had time to protest and before someone else could interrupt them, he hauled her up against him and kissed her.

  He didn’t bother with the preliminaries. He parted her lips and thrust his tongue inside. She moaned and twined her arms around his neck. She tasted exactly how he remembered: sweet and irresistible. Their tempo slowed, sped back up, slowed again. He forgot everything but the erotic glide of her tongue against his. He slipped a hand underneath her shirt and rested it on the small of her back, urging her hips closer to his.

  She wrapped a leg around him, bringing his thigh snug against her, and sighed the sexiest purr he’d ever heard. Nothing had ever tasted or felt better. The last time they were together, they’d been filled with grief, spite. This time it was desire, admiration.