Long Time Coming
by Bonnie Edwards
Published by Bonnie Edwards, 2013.
This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.
LONG TIME COMING
First edition. May 23, 2013.
Copyright © 2013 Bonnie Edwards.
ISBN: 978-0991933921
Written by Bonnie Edwards.
Also by Bonnie Edwards
Standalone
Sweet Ride!
Long Time Coming
Watch for more at Bonnie Edwards’s site.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
For first loves finally finding their way home.
And for Ted, always...
Chapter One
Pressure gathered in Kurt McCord's chest as he fought for composure. He hated needing anything, let alone help. "Damn it, Leigh, can't you just give us a weekend? Marion needs help. I'll hump furniture all day long, fix whatever needs fixed, but she's a wreck and I don't handle that stuff well."
"I leave for Japan at the end of next week." Leigh's sultry voice went soft as if she saw the futility of resistance. Her last gasp of denial.
Merciless, he went in for the kill. "She cried, Leigh. Marion cried. I don't know about you, but I never saw her cry about anything. It was over some photo albums and that old movie projector of hers. I haven't seen that thing in decades. I doubt it'll work anymore." He hadn't been able to do more than give the old girl an awkward pat on the shoulder.
Females in emotional pain made his gut twist. He hated feeling helpless and he never understood what women in distress really needed. So he fixed things. Hauled whatever needed hauling, and ate whatever they cooked for him. Marion was a good cook and had loved to feed him and all the other foster kids she'd mothered. "Leigh, we owe her."
"Would next month work?" Her voice, silken and sexy drew tight circles around his chest. He lost the battle with his breath and let it out. Dragged in another. He would win this.
He would.
He couldn't take another month of Marion's tears. Hearing Leigh's voice brought back a whole lot of other stuff he thought was long over.
Things like desire. Need. Want.
Yes, he still wanted Leigh Douglas.
“Next month's too late. She's got to take the place right away." Retirement units in this building didn't come up often. "This one's a bottom floor corner. She can keep her cat and patio furniture."
"She can use her grill, too?"
Memories of Marion's legendary backyard grilling parties skipped through his mind. "Yes, she can even grill, too." He had her and they both knew it.
A sexy sigh and then, "This thing in Japan is an interview for a promotion. I can give you three days, no more." Her voice dripped capitulation. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
The crunch of tires on gravel brought Kurt's head up to listen. He swiped his cuff across his forehead and leaned his axe against the woodpile at the side of his house. Splitting logs for firewood was great for stress relief. Leigh's arrival counted as stress. He scrubbed his fingers through his hair to clear his head then headed for the front of the house. He ran a mental checklist as he walked. Fridge was stocked. Guest room prepared. Wine was chilling. With any luck, she would agree to eat with him before they headed to Marion's.
A dark grey luxury sports car rolled to a stop by the rose bed he'd planted in the middle of his circular drive.
Sound fell away, his breath stalled while he watched one high heeled boot, then another, descend to the ground. Butter-colored boots. No woman he knew wore butter-colored boots. Not in this town.
A blonde knot of hair appeared as she unfolded from the low slung seat. Leigh had always been a beauty, but now, she had the profile of an angel.
He catalogued every glorious inch of her, from the topknot of blonde waves to the curve of her breasts to the flat plain of her belly. The car door hid her legs, but he had them memorized. Long, strong, shaped just right, they rose from perfect feet to thin ankles and thighs that led–
"Are you going to say hello?" she asked, her voice sultry and hot as asphalt in the sun. "Or will you stand and stare all day?" Her wide open gut-busting grin hit him in the chest. Then she stepped away from the car and walked into his arms like a long-lost sister.
Yeah, that was it. As if he needed a reminder. She smelled of flowers and windswept hair and Leigh. Not the little-girl Leigh he remembered, but a woman. Her curvy body fit against his as she gave him a perfunctory buss on the cheek.
He pulled his head back only to see her grin falter from open to hesitant. She was so damn appealing he could eat her up. "Good to see you, Leigh. I'm glad you made it. Have you been to Marion's yet?"
She nodded, stepped out of his arms and concern flashed across her face. "The doors were locked and lights all off. Where is she?"
Surprised, he said, "She was there this morning. I moved furniture for hours." Worry dampened his sexual focus. He shook his head because Marion wouldn't have left the house unless absolutely necessary, not with Leigh on the way. "She was excited to see you."
"So you have no idea where she's gone?"
"Come on in," he said as he dug his phone out of his pocket. "I'll call her cell."
But before he could pull her number up, his ring tone played. He checked call display, ready to hang up on the caller if need be. "It's her."
Leigh gave her car door a hip shot to close it, then stepped close enough for his nose to catch her scent again. He answered, relieved to hear Marion's normal, rushed voice. He passed Leigh the phone. "She wants to speak with you."
Thirty seconds into the conversation, Leigh's voice warmed with concern. A problem with Marion’s sister. He straightened when Leigh said goodbye. She handed back his phone.
"Marion had to leave for her sister's place. Heart trouble. She won't be here all weekend. She said we could go over to the house in the morning and she'd call then." Her lips moved into a classic Leigh pout. He wanted to kiss it away. "I suspect she'd prefer we deal with a lot of the decisions for her. This can’t be easy for a woman who’s as vital and active as Marion.”
"She was pretty wracked up over that projector and the old film reels. I found the projector screen, but it's ruined."
"If it had been her choice to retire she might handle this better.” She smiled, her wide blue eyes a symphony of kind memories. "In the meantime, we have an evening to kill."
"Stay here tonight, we can get caught up." And there it was. Stay with me. Sleep in your big brother's house. Where you'll be safe.
Her smile turned sultry. "Let me get my bag.” She turned and gave him a view of her lush backside. Round, smooth, high and oh-so-inviting, his hands itched.
Unless and until, Leigh gave him the go-ahead to touch, he'd keep his hands to himself, even if it killed him.
Chapter Two
While Leigh settled into the guestroom, Kurt opened a bottle of red wine to let it breathe. Then he called Marion.
Her sister had the constitution of a tank. Heart problems didn't ring true. Maybe this move into the retirement residence had been harder to accept than he thought. But Marion had faced too many angry and confused foster kids to be frightened by downsizing her home. He listened to her soft-voiced explanation of family duty and hung up, no more convinced than when he’d called.
Footsteps made him turn to watch Leigh's expression as she approached through the great room. What he read in her eyes pleased him. As did his home. He'd worked hard on the design and it showed.
Log walls, gleaming wood floor
s and high ceilings made for rustic luxury. French doors flanked the fieldstone fireplace and led to a lakeside deck that appeared to extend the width of the house.
"Your home's lovely, Kurt," she said as she took the wine he offered. She'd let her hair down into waves that tipped at her clavicle. He wanted to trace those fine bones out to her smooth shoulders. Trace her skin lightly, lightly, lightly until she shivered with need.
"Thanks," he said, and pulled back from the errant thought. "I never seem to finish the place though." He grinned and nodded toward a walk-in pantry. The scent of fresh cut pine filled the air. Shelves he had yet to install leaned against the inside wall.
She took in the granite counters, the breakfast bar, the view over the lakeside deck. "I'd love a kitchen like this."
"Feel free to cook whatever you'd like. I'll eat your cooking anytime." He’d eat her anytime.
"I may take you up on your offer. I don't cook much. Meals for one don't hold a lot of appeal."
"You're single? Hard to believe." Down, boy.
"Why? There’s no evidence of a woman living here. If you're single, why shouldn't I be?"
"I've been busy building a business,” he said, pleased she'd paid attention to his living arrangement. “Until now relationships have taken a back seat."
"Now?"
"Now, I'm ready to take care of other ambitions." He held the door to the deck open for her and motioned her outside to take in the view. “Marion’s told me for years it’s time to settle down, and I’m ready to give her that wish.”
She stepped by him to the deck while he leaned in for a whiff of her shampoo. "When I lived here I never got to the private side of the lake,” she murmured. “Only the public beaches." Her scent went to his head. Better than wine. Much better. "This is spectacular." Her eyes showed delight in his success. “Why have you waited so long to settle down?”
“My old man was decent enough, but he could never get himself off the ground. Never got life right. I swore I’d be different if I had a family. I wanted to be ready. Prepared.”
“Not broke.” A statement, not a question. “I swore I wouldn’t get pregnant at fourteen.”
“Which may have happened, given the way you looked much older.”
Her smile went thoughtful. “But I had you running interference.”
"Whether you wanted it or not."
She slipped her hand to his cheek, her warmth a balm. He tilted into it. “Thank you, Kurt. You were my champion, my guardian.”
His hand burned with the need to touch. To take. So he clasped the deck rail and pretended to see the lake. He waved at his neighbors, out for their daily paddle. The red canoe skimmed over the water, graceful and silent.
"Sunset is my favorite time of day," she said with a sigh. "I don't see it often enough. Everything's pretty again." She tapped her temple. "My mind races through the day." She settled next to him at the rail, her shoulder grazing his.
"I like the long shadows, the deepening quiet as the birds settle and the lake turns pink and gold."
"Renewal, rest and reflection." She turned toward him, her eyes scanning his face, counting the years since they'd last seen each other. "You've changed some, but I still see you, Kurt McCord. Like no other man, I see you."
He had a sick feeling that maybe she always had. "When we were kids– "
"I'm sorry I was such a pest." She laughed. A light tinkling sound he'd looked for in every other woman he'd known.
"You weren't. I was a jerk."
She eyed him. "Only sometimes." Her grin set his mind at ease.
She still had no idea how sick he'd been. Still was. A brother wanting his sister. Correction. Foster sister.
Not that it made any difference. Marion would be appalled. And Leigh would look at him like a fly speck.
Maybe that would set him free. He'd stop comparing women to Leigh. He could move on and work on those new ambitions. A wife. Family of his own.
Just as soon as he put this Leigh thing aside.
And then she looked at him; really looked and he looked back.
Damn, she was hot.
She nodded at the neighbors as they glided by. "They're still together? They were a couple back in high school."
He nodded. "Sometimes first loves are the only loves."
She took a sip of wine too fast. She coughed and he patted her back. "Okay?"
"Fine. Thanks." After a moment of quiet reflection, she spoke again. She leaned over the rail to look around the lake. "That time I walked up to your car and you had some girl with you . . . ." Her voice trailed away into an unspoken question.
"Diane Brown. I remember she was no girl." Older by at least eight years and already divorced, Diane held his interest for all of three weeks. Long enough to learn what he'd needed. "What about it?" But he knew what she'd seen, what he'd done.
"You saw me coming for the car, holding my report card."
He'd been such a prick. "I'm sorry about that."
She hadn't heard him, was trapped in the past. "You grabbed her and kissed her the way I wanted you to kiss me."
It was his turn to choke. If he thought he'd waited on pins and needles for Leigh to arrive, it was nothing compared to the absolute stillness of his body, his life, his world as her words sunk in. After a shocked moment he turned his face toward her.
"Don't look so shocked," she said. "I had a huge crush on you." She blinked and seemed to pull out of wherever her memories had taken her. "You must have known."
The wind had been punched out of him and he dragged in a breath to replace it. "You were my little brat sister. Not possible." And he was four years older and had a lifetime worth of experience.
"You were never my brother, Kurt. No matter what the foster care system said. No matter how much Marion wanted us to call her Mom." She swallowed. Hard. Then slanted him a glance that spoke volumes. "You're not my brother, Kurt. You never were." She pressed her shoulder against his and tipped her wineglass toward him.
"Diane Brown," was all he could think to say. He'd seen Leigh running toward the car, eyes wide and happy, face aglow with pride. And he'd seen her falter when she'd realized he wasn't alone.
"You looked me right in the eyes. Then you pulled her into your arms and kissed her in a way– "
"In a way you were too young to see." He'd done it for her own good. He was older, a full on raging-hormone filled teenager with a car. Many times he could have picked her up on the walk home from school. He could have taken her anywhere and she'd have gone with him. The temptation had been powerful, but he'd been stronger. "It was safer to see you as a younger sister." He clinked their glasses and took a sip without looking at her.
"Safer? For whom?"
"Me," he murmured. "Safer for me. I wanted you, too, but you were a kid, a child. I felt sickened by my own thoughts."
"I'm not a child any longer, Kurt. And I'm here."
He looked at the way his wine rippled in his glass, a reaction to his trembling hand. "Are you sure?"
"I've been sure since I was twelve."
Chapter Three
Leigh faced Kurt. Desire and heat radiated from his tight jaw and hooded gaze. Male focus wrapped its sexual fingers in and around her body. Thank you, God! "I suggest it's time we find out what we missed out on back in the day."
He slipped his hand to her wineglass and set it on the deck rail. "I'm glad you're thinking the same way I am."
She leaned close, pressed her breasts to his chest and waited for his lips to take hers. She heard the same low hum that he'd used on the phone. It rolled and rumbled and churned her insides. She was about to be taken and taken well.
At sixteen, he'd been gangly and good-looking with an intensity about life that had sent her girlish heart into spins. “You’ve filled out.”
One side of his mouth kicked up at her appreciation.
Broad shoulders tapered to a thick, muscular waist. His forearms would give her dreams for years. While she took inventory of his body, he st
udied her face. Her girlhood attraction blossomed into full adult lust.
She placed her palms on his chest to cop a feel of solid masculine muscle. Heat. Strength. Desire.
“Are we doing this or will we pretend we’re not allowed to tear each other's clothes off?" she asked on a whisper of sound.
"This brother sister thing's already old." His low sexy rumble sent warm shivers down her belly.
She raised her face but he cupped her cheeks and forestalled her kiss. "I want to take this slow. I've waited too long to hurry."
She nodded. Now that she was here, like this, with him, she had all the time in the world. “This has been a long time coming.” She sighed against his mouth, thrilled by the deep desire in his voice. He'd been all too eager to see the last of her when she'd left town and she’d been too hurt to look back.
Until now.
He moved his hands down her neck, along her shoulders and then slowly down her ribs to her full hips. His eyes darkened with need and lust roared to life.
His lust.
Hers.
Yes.
He clasped her hips and kneaded flesh. “God, you’re all woman. So soft. Lush. Made for–“
”Fucking? It’s all right. I’ve heard it before.” Her mother had passed along genes that gave her a woman’s body too soon.
“No. Not for fucking. For loving. You were a kid, until one day, you walked toward me with the sun at your back. You wore a yellow sun dress. On the outside it was baggy and shapeless, but outlined under the dress were curves I'd never seen before. I was so turned on I scared the crap out of myself."
Even now, he looked appalled at his teenaged reaction.
He pulled back to search her face. "You were an open book. Unmarked, unfettered and free. I could have touched you anywhere, anytime. You were so young you didn't understand the invitation you gave me. You scared me to death."
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