by Janet Dailey
When they sat down at the table, the meal seemed flawless. Eve wasn’t sure whether it was the food or the company that made it all taste so good, but all three of them ate every bite of food on their plates.
“Didn’t I tell you Eve was a good cook?” Toby stayed at the table while they lingered over their coffee.
“You certainly did,” Luck agreed. “And you were right, too.”
“Your father deserves some of the credit,” Eve insisted. “I don’t know about yours, but my steak was perfect.”
“Thank you.” Luck inclined his dark head in mocking acceptance of the compliment. Thick strands of rich brown hair fell across his forehead, adding to his rakish air.
“Mine was good, too,” Toby assured him, then took away the compliment.
“But all you had to do was watch them so they wouldn’t burn. Eve really did the cooking.”
“And an excellent job, too.” He didn’t argue with his son’s summation. The magnetic blue of his eyes centered on her, lazy and disturbing. “You certainly know the way to a man’s heart.”
All her senses went haywire at that remark, throwing her into a state of heady confusion. She struggled to conceal it, quickly dropping her gaze and busying her hands with the dessert dishes still on the table.
“Don’t bother with the dishes,” Luck instructed. “We’ll just stack them in the sink for now.”
“Nonsense.” There was an agitated edge to her voice that betrayed her inner disturbance. “it will only take a few minutes to do them and they’ll be out of the way.”
“In that case, we’ll all help.” He pushed out of his chair. “You can clear the table and stack the dishes by the sink, and Toby can wash them while I dry.”
They seemed to get them done in record time. Eve finished wiping the stove, table and counter tops a little before Toby and Luck were through.
As the trio entered the living room, Toby turned to walk backward and face them. “Why don’t we start a fire in the fireplace, dad?”
“It’s summer, Toby,” Luck reminded him with an indulgent look.
“I know, but it would be fun,” he shrugged. “We could toast marshmallows.”
“You can’t still be hungry,” Eve laughed.
“No, but I’ll eat them anyway,” he replied, and she understood that most of the pleasure came from toasting them, rather than eating them. “Please, dad. Just a little fire.”
“Okay,” Luck gave in. “Just a small one.”
While Toby dashed back to the kitchen for the bag of marshmallows and a long-handled toasting fork, Luck built a small fire in the stone fireplace. When it was burning nicely, the three of them sat on the floor in a semicircle around the hearth.
Toby did the actual toasting of the marshmallows, passing around the finished product in turns. Half a bag was consumed — mostly by the fire — before he finally tired of the task. All of them had to wash the sticky gooey residue from their hands. Once that was done, the flickering flames of a fading fire drew them back to their former positions.
A contented silence settled over the room, broken only by the soft crackle of the burning wood. Outside, darkness had descended and the soft glow of the fire provided the only light in the front room. Sitting cross-legged between them, Toby yawned loudly.
“Gosh, I’m tired,” he declared. “I think I’ll go to bed.”
Luck wore a look of vague surprise that his son was actually volunteering to go to bed. A little thread of self-consciousness laced its way through Eve’s nerve ends at the prospect of being alone with Luck.
“I guess it is your bedtime,” Luck remarked as his son pushed to his feet with apparent tiredness.
“Yeah.” Toby paused to look at Eve. “Thanks for cooking dinner tonight. It was really good.”
“You’re welcome.” Her mouth trembled a little in its smile.
“Good night,” he wished her.
“Good night,” she returned.
“I’ll be in shortly,” Luck promised.
“You don’t need to. You can stay with Eve,” Toby said, then partially turned to hide the frowning look of reproval he gave his father from her. She heard him whisper, “I’m big enough to go to bed by myself. Don’t embarrass me in front of her.”
A slow smile broke over Luck’s features at his son’s admonition. “Get to bed.” He affectionately slapped Toby on the behind to send him on his way.
When he’d gone, Luck slid the lazy smile in Eve’s direction, encompassing her with the warmth of its casual intimacy. There had been an ease between them. Eve had definitely felt it, yet without Toby’s presence to serve as a buffer, it started to dissipate. She became conscious there was only the two of them in the room. The silence that had been so pleasant and comfortable began to grow heavy. She’d never had the knack for making idle conversation, but the situation seemed to demand it.
“He’s quite the boy,” Eve remarked under the strain of silence.
“Unfortunately he’s grown old before his time.” His smile twisted into a regretful grimace that held a certain resignation.
“I don’t think he’s suffered too much from it,” she replied, because Toby did appear to have achieved a balance between his boyhood and his sense of responsibility.
“I guess he hasn’t.” Luck stared at the fire and seemed to lose himself in the tiny yellow flames darting their tongues over the glowing log.
Eve couldn’t think of a response, and the silence lengthened. She supposed that he was thinking about his late wife, probably remembering past moments shared.
No more sounds came from the direction of Toby’s bedroom, and the tension ran through her system. Her legs were becoming cramped by her curled sitting position, but Eve was reluctant to move and draw attention to herself. She didn’t want Luck to look at her and mentally compare her to the beautiful blonde in the photograph.
At that moment he seemed to rouse himself and become aware that he wasn’t alone. “That fire is becoming hypnotic,” he said, explaining away his preoccupation.
“Yes.” Eve pretended she had been fascinated by it, too, when the only fascination that existed within her was for him.
Luck made a move as if to stand, then paused. “Was there any coffee left?”
“Yes.” She rose quickly to her feet. “I’ll heat it up for you. It will only take a minute.”
“I can get it.” But Luck didn’t protest too stridently, willing to let himself be persuaded to remain where he was.
“No, you stay here,” Eve insisted. “I’ve been sitting so long I’m starting to get stiff. I need to move around a bit.” Which was the truth, although the greater truth was a need to be alone and get herself together. She had to stop being torn apart by this unrequited love for him.
“Okay.” Luck didn’t argue the point further, remaining by the fire. “If you insist.”
Activity helped as she buried herself in the kitchen, turning the coffee on to warm it through and setting out cups for each of them. Yet she couldn’t forget that another woman had once brought him coffee and kissed his son good-night as she had done the previous evening. The latter thought prompted Eve to check on Toby while she waited for the coffee to heat.
When she entered the hallway, it was at the precise moment that Luck entered it from the living room. Eve stopped, a little guiltily.
“I thought I’d see if Toby was all right,” she explained.
The slight curve to his mouth captivated her with its male charm. “That’s where I was headed, too,” Luck replied, lifting a dark brow in arching inquiry. “Shall we go together and both be satisfied?”
He took her agreement for granted, linking an arm around her waist to guide her down the darkened hallway. The sensation was much too enjoyable for Eve to resist. She was becoming satisfied with the crumbs of his attention — something she had believed her pride would never let her do.
The doorway to his room stood open and they paused in its frame, standing side by side. In the semidarkne
ss they could see his shining face, all youthful innocence in sleep. His dark hair waved across his forehead like a cap.
Deep affection for the sleeping child tugged at her heartstrings.
“That’s about the only time he’s quiet,” Luck murmured softly.
A faint smile touched her mouth as Eve turned her head to look up at him in silent understanding. Toby was always doing, saying or up to something. She could well imagine the wry truth in Luck’s comment.
When she met his downward glance, something warm and wonderful shone in his blue eyes. There was a caressing quality in the way they wandered over her upturned face. It started her heart pounding at a rapid speed.
He bent slightly toward her, brushing her lips in a light kiss that stirred her senses and left her wanting more. That desire trembled within her, not letting itself be known. Nothing invited it to show her wants, and Eve lacked the aggression and confidence to assert herself.
“Do you suppose the coffee’s hot yet?” Luck murmured, not lifting his head very far from hers.
“It should be,” she whispered, and doubted if her voice had the strength to speak louder.
As they turned to leave the doorway, neither of them noticed the little boy in bed cautiously open one eye, or the satisfied smile that smugly curved his mouth.
Luck accompanied her to the kitchen and carried his own cup of hot coffee into the living room. He walked past the sofa and chairs to the fireplace, lowering himself to sit on the floor in front of the dying fire. Reaching out, he pulled a couple of throw pillows from the sofa closer to his position and patted them to invite Eve to join him. She sat on one, bending her legs to the side and holding her cup in both hands.
“Toby likes you a lot, Eve,” Luck remarked, eyeing her with a sidelong glance.
“I like him a lot, too,” she admitted. “So I guess it’s mutual.”
“Toby and I have led a bachelor’s life for a long time,” he said, continuing to regard her steadily. “I always thought we managed very well.” He paused for a brief second. “Tonight I realized there were a lot of things we’ve been missing. I’m glad you came to dinner this evening.”
“I’m glad you asked me,” Eve replied, and guessed at his loneliness.
His actions and words had proved that he liked her, that he even regarded her as reasonably attractive. She knew she should be happy about that, but there was a part of her that wished he could be insanely in love with her, wanting her above all other women. It was silly to wish for the moon when she had the glow of the firelight.
“What I’m trying to say is that meeting you has been one of the best things that has happened to us in a long while.” Luck appeared determined to convince her of something, but Eve wasn’t sure what it was.
She couldn’t help noticing the way it was always “we” or “us,” never ‘I’ or “me.” He was coupling himself with Toby. It was her effect on “them” — not “him.” She lowered her gaze to the cup in her hands.
“I’m handling this badly, aren’t I?” His voice held a sigh of self-amusement.
“I can’t answer that because I don’t know what you’re trying to handle,” Eve said, attempting to speak lightly but unable to look at him.
“It’s really very simple.” He curved a hand under her chin and turned it toward him. “I want to kiss you. I’ve been wanting to do it all evening, but I never found the opening. So I was trying to make one.”
Her heart fluttered at the disturbing hint of desire in his blue eyes. Luck had finally said “I,” and her senses were on a rampage, wild with the promise that the word held. With a total lack of concern for the deliberateness of his actions, he took the coffee cup from her hands and set it on the stone hearth beside his.
Her composure was so rattled that she wondered how Luck could go about this all so calmly. Anticipation had her trembling on the brink of raw longing for his embrace. The sensation was becoming so strong that Eve didn’t think she could hide it.
When his hands closed on her arms to draw her to him, Eve abandoned herself to the emotional needs and wants searing within. The fire in the hearth was dying, but the one inside her was kindled to a full blaze by the sure possession of his hard male lips.
His hand burrowed into the thickness of her brown hair, holding its mass while he supported the back of her head as his driving kiss forced it backward.
Her arms went around his middle, her sense of touch excited by the solidness of his muscled body, so hard and firm and virile.
A mist of sensuality swirled itself around her consciousness and made any thought of caution a hazy ill-defined one. His hand roamed along her spine, alternately caressing and urging her closer. Eve strained to comply and arched nearer. The unyielding wall of his body flattened her breasts, but it wasn’t enough.
Her breathing was so shallow it was almost nonexistent when Luck dragged his mouth from her lips to nibble at her throat and trail its way up the pulsing vein to the sensitive hollow below her ear. Eve quivered with the intensity of the passions he was arousing.
“I’ve needed this for so long, Eve,” he declared in a voice thick with desire, the heat of his breath inflaming her skin. “I’ve been so empty. Fill me up, Eve. Fill me up.”
But she didn’t need to be urged. Her hunger and emptiness had been as great as his. Her eagerly parted lips were already seeking his when his mouth came back to claim them. The whole weight of him was behind the kiss, bending her backward farther and farther until she slipped off the pillow onto the carpeted floor.
Within seconds they were lying together, and the hard pressure of his male body was making itself felt on every inch of hers. No longer needing to hold her, his hands were free to explore the soft curves that had been against him.
When Luck shifted his position to make a more thorough discovery, a shirt button caught in the eyelet lace of her blouse. He swore under his breath, impatient with the obstacle as Eve was. There was a reluctant delay as Luck paused to free the button. When his knuckles rubbed against a breast, Eve couldn’t help breathing in sharply at the inadvertent contact, a white-hot rush of desire searing through her veins.
Her reaction didn’t go unnoticed. The instant he had rid himself of the impediment, his hand covered her breast and a soft moan of satisfaction trembled from her throat. He kissed the source of the sound and unerringly found the pleasure point at the base of her neck that sent excited shivers over her skin.
With her eyes closed to lock the delirious sensations of supreme joy forever in her memory, Eve caressed the taut muscles of his shoulders. His deft fingers unfastened the front of her lace blouse and pushed the material aside. When his hand glided inside her brassiere and lifted a breast from its confining cup, she was a churning mass of desire.
Her clamoring needs were almost beyond endurance as his mouth traveled downward from her collarbone to nuzzle the slope of her breast. His leg was hooked across her thighs, and she was rawly conscious of his hard need outlined against her hip. The ache in her loins ran wild when his mouth circled the sensitive peak of her breast. She was writhing inside.
“I thought you told me only married people did that, dad.”
Eight
* * *
Toby’s voice shattered the erotic moment into a thousand pieces. Both of them froze at the sound of it. Then her fingers dug into his muscled arms in embarrassed panic when her suddenly widened eyes saw the pajama-clad boy leaning casually over the back of the couch.
Luck reacted swiftly, using his body as a shield to hide her nakedness while he quickly pulled her blouse over her breast. Eve had a glimpse of the savage anger that took over his hard features before he turned his head to glare at Toby.
“What the hell are you doing out of bed?” he demanded harshly.
“I woke up ’cause I was thirsty, so I came out to the kitchen to get a drink,” his son explained, unabashed by the intimate scene he had interrupted and apparently oblivious to the awkward situation he was causing. “How co
me you were doing that if you and Eve aren’t married?”
“You’ve got two seconds to get into your bed,” Luck warned. “Or, so help me, you won’t be able to sit down for a month!”
“But I was only wondering — ” Toby began to protest, frowning in bewilderment.
“Now!” Luck snapped the word and brought a knee up as if to rise and carry out his threat.
Toby pushed off the couch and started toward the hallway, grumbling to himself. “You keep telling me I should ask questions when I don’t understand. I don’t know why you’re yelling at me for doing it.”
“Go to your room and stay there.” The line of his jaw was iron hard.
The response from Toby was a loud sigh that signaled compliance. The instant he was out of sight, Luck sat up and combed a hand through his hair before casting a grimly apologetic glance at Eve’s reddened face. She sat up quickly, half turning from him to button her blouse, nearly mortified to death by the incident.
“I’m sorry, Eve,” Luck sighed heavily.
“It wasn’t your fault,” she murmured self-consciously, and tried to restore some semblance of order to her tousled clothes.
She wasn’t sure which embarrassed her more — what Toby had seen or what he might have seen if he’d come a few minutes later. She had been lost beyond control, her sense of morality completely abandoned.
“I’m going to have a talk with that boy.” Irritation vibrated through his taut declaration.
“You shouldn’t be angry with him.” Despite the embarrassment Toby had caused, Eve defended his innocent role in the scene. She scrambled to her feet the minute she was decent, and Luck followed to stand beside her. She was too disconcerted by the incident to meet his eyes squarely, so her sidelong glance fell somewhere short of his face. “Toby didn’t mean to do anything wrong.”