by Leslie North
Who was knocking?
Had it been a knock, or was it part of her dream? The prospect of Jasper in danger, even in her dreams, made her stomach churn. She put a hand to her chest. The sound had probably been part of her dream, and she should just—
There it was again.
Suspiciously like a knock, but…not. She was pretty sure it came from the kitchen. Her pulse thundered in her ears. Nobody else was supposed to be home. It was just her and Jasper, who had fallen asleep while she read his bedtime story, and then…she must have fallen asleep next to him. Jasper was still in dreamland. He hadn’t heard a thing. His breathing hadn’t changed.
She sat frozen for several painful heartbeats. Part of her wanted to pull the covers over her head and squeeze her eyes shut and pretend she hadn’t heard anything, either. But what if a murderer was in the house?
Stephanie forced herself out of bed and planted her feet, which immediately felt ridiculous. What was she going to do, fight off the intruder with her bare hands?
The throwing axes.
Stephanie had seen exactly two weapons in Charlie’s home, and they’d been in his office, hanging over his desk—a pair of antique throwing axes in a shadow box. But was there glass? Or was it just the box?
She’d take the risk.
Stephanie blew a silent kiss to Jasper and darted out of the room. Charlie’s office was halfway between the guest suite and the living room, and she was light on her feet, as light as she’d ever been. Her footsteps fell in whispers on the carpet. Her heart felt like it might explode from her throat when she made a sharp right into the office and stopped, listening.
The sound came from the kitchen again.
She flitted behind Charlie’s desk and—Score!—the shadow box was just a shadow box. It didn’t have a glass front. Stephanie reached inside and tugged at the first axe. It resisted. She pulled harder, then ran her fingers over the handle, searching. Was it screwed in? If so, she was also screwed.
She felt something like a rubber band stretched around the handle. Stephanie sawed frantically at the rubber with her thumbnail. Come on. Come on…
It gave way, and the throwing axe practically sprang out of the box. She caught it in an awkward grip, the sharp edge brushing against her skin.
Well. The dull edge. It was decorative.
Still, it was better than nothing.
She forced herself back into the hall, brandishing the axe and trying to arrange her face into an expression that would terrify an intruder.
The kitchen light was on.
The sound came again.
She stepped cautiously into the pool of light at the edge of the living area. Why wasn’t the intruder in sight, already? The anticipation inched toward a lethal level. A person could have a stroke from this kind of stress.
She heard the fridge door opening.
An intruder going through the fridge?
Charlie was supposed to be in Las Vegas. It couldn’t be Charlie. But someone at home enough to look for food?
She swallowed a thick lump in her throat and took another step forward. If she could just see who it was, maybe…
It was too much. Stephanie leapt forward with a screech that was meant to be a battle cry but turned out to be more like a strangled sneeze, the throwing axe held high above her head.
A crash and a curse, and the intruder straightened up in a fall of Tupperware.
“Charlie,” she gasped. “What are you doing here?”
He stared, eyes wide, then burst into laughter. “I couldn’t stay at the retreat, so I came home. But the first plane had mechanical issues, and then…” He waved a hand in the air. “Those details aren’t relevant. What matters is…” His forehead creased. “Is that one of my throwing axes?”
She lowered it slowly to her side, heat rushing to her cheeks. “Yes. I…I was going to use it to confront the intruder. I heard a sound…”
Charlie frowned. “I was worried I might wake you. I stopped for some soda on the way back, and the rings holding it together were surprisingly resilient. They kept banging against the counter.”
Stephanie’s shoulders sagged. “Don’t do that. That’s so terrifying.”
“Separate soda cans, or come home when you’re not expecting me?”
“Both.” She laughed, then set the axe on the counter. Charlie watched her, his dark eyes tracing a path over her pajama pants and, now that she thought of it, a spaghetti strap tank that had been washed so many times that it verged on sheer.
She ran a hand through her hair, and Charlie made a sound in the back of his throat that reminded her so much of the conference in Vegas that it was like he’d turned the clock back five years. Oh, he’d been so enthralled with her. The flush from her cheeks spread over the rest of her body. Her first instinct had been to cross her arms over her chest, but now she stuck one hand on her hip and looked him in the eye.
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were checking me out.”
“I am checking you out,” he said immediately. “You’re gorgeous.”
“Oh? Is that why you came back?” Stephanie teased.
Charlie’s expression went serious. “Yes.”
A whoosh of hot desire chased away what was left of the adrenaline in her veins. “You didn’t have to do that. We would have been fine for the weekend.” Stephanie couldn’t stop the tremble in her voice.
“That’s the thing.” Charlie closed the fridge and came around the counter, stepping close and smoothing her hair back from her face. Even that simple touch lit up every one of her nerves in a bright, sparking pleasure. “I wouldn’t have been fine for the weekend. I wanted to be there for my brothers, but…” He shook his head. “I couldn’t risk a relapse.”
“Wait, what? Why would you have been in danger of that?”
“Allen took us to the Bellagio,” he said simply.
Stephanie rolled her eyes. “That man. He said that since it was a guys’ weekend, he’d handle the arrangements himself. I’m sorry, Charlie, I should have pressed him.”
“It doesn’t matter. What matters is that you’re here, in my kitchen, and you didn’t kill me with a throwing axe.”
She laughed, and Charlie pulled her back into his arms. Stephanie slipped her arms up around his neck, and Charlie tipped his face to the side, breathing her in. “I didn’t kill you. And I’m impressed.”
“I have done nothing impressive today,” said Charlie into her neck, his breath hot on her skin. She pressed herself closer. They were supposed to be taking everything slowly, but when his grip tightened on her hips, she couldn’t help herself.
“You were honorable,” she said. “You did the right thing, leaving that hotel. And you did the right thing, coming back to me.”
“Are you sure of that?”
“Yes,” she breathed, and he tipped her face to his and kissed her.
It started off soft and slow, but when Stephanie ran her tongue along his bottom lip, Charlie let out a growl. “I hated it,” he said. “I didn’t like being apart from you for even one day. I shouldn’t be saying that, but it’s the truth.”
“I hated it too,” she admitted, and the words were like a key in a lock. Their tumbling from her lips opened the floodgates.
Charlie kissed her harder, hotter, and Stephanie was back in Vegas herself, kissing a younger version of Charlie with that same fierce intensity. Then she snapped back into the present. She liked this new version of Charlie even more.
She loved this version.
She wanted more.
As the kiss went on, the last of her walls crumbled and blew away on the wind. “Come to bed with me,” he growled, and then she was in his arms.
“Yes,” she said in a low voice. “Yes.”
Whatever restraint they’d had flew to the floor at the foot of his bed along with their clothes, and for the first time in six years, Stephanie stood before a gloriously naked Charlie Preston. She drank him in, noticed him doing the same to her, and then
the eye of the storm had passed. They were back in the thick of it. Charlie circled her nipples with the pads of his thumbs until they were so sensitive she cried out. He pulled her against him and reached between them to stroke between her legs, so gently and then harder, deeper, until she writhed on his fingertips.
“Come to bed with me,” he said again, and Stephanie felt it—the way she’d been holding herself back from this one bright line. Six years ago, she’d fallen into bed with Charlie Preston, and it had changed her entire life. Doing it again now was like standing at the edge of a cliff with no way of knowing how far the jump would take her.
But she wanted him.
Nothing else mattered.
“Okay,” she whispered, and when he took her hand and led her to the bed, she didn’t hesitate.
Charlie spread her out on top of the comforter and climbed on after her, and she lost herself to his attentions. He started with kisses on her neck and trailed them down and across her collarbone. He went down farther, circling her belly button. And then he went lower, to where she’d spread her legs for him, and bent to give a long stroke with his tongue.
She shuddered under the heat, under the aching pleasure of it, and it felt like the entire universe existed only between her legs. Charlie licked and sucked and teased until her hips rocked up to him in a needy, jerking rhythm. She heard the drawer open as if from a hundred miles away. Who was making that whimpering noise? Oh. She was.
“I’m back,” Charlie said low into her ear, and then he thrust inside, taking her in a single possessive stroke that knocked the breath from her. Or did it give her the first breath of her new life? She couldn’t tell, and she didn’t care. All she cared about was that the rock of his hips sparked a friction between them that centered on her clit. Three, four, five thrusts, and all that pleasure exploded around him. Stephanie held on tight to Charlie’s shoulders and came hard, harder than she ever had, her muscles tensing and releasing under that demanding joy.
It peaked, and she rode the wave down, down, down until a new orgasm bloomed low in her belly. Charlie pulsed inside of her, pushing himself up on his elbows so she could see his face.
It was so breathtakingly intimate, seeing him like this, dark eyes flashing and focused. She could see herself reflected there, pink and beautiful, and she ran her fingertips down the side of his cheek.
“Oh,” she said, because that was the only word left to her. “Oh…”
“I can’t hold back,” he said, his voice ringing with meaning. Charlie’s muscles bunched beneath her hands, and he drove into her another fraction of an inch. She crossed her ankles behind his back and drew him in, meeting him with every motion of his hips.
His release was long and powerful, and when he was done, Charlie lowered his head to kiss her. He kissed her like they had never kissed before, tentative and exploring, and then he pulled back, searching her face.
“I don’t think we’re done here,” he said, his tone wicked.
“No,” she said as he rolled to the side, sliding one hand down the length of her body. “No, I’m not done. Please…”
9
The last place Charlie ever expected to find himself in the middle of this weekend was the public baseball fields, with everything going slightly wrong.
When he’d woken in the morning, Stephanie wasn’t in his bed. That was probably for the best. If she’d still been there, he’d have had a very hard time getting up. And with her boss and his brothers in Vegas, it was time for him to do something nice for her. Something almost as nice as what they’d done last night.
He’d wanted to give her a day off.
Which was why he was at the baseball fields, watching Jasper hang back while the other kids on the T-ball team practiced fielding grounders and running around the bases.
The coach, Mark Jefferson, was a friend of Charlie’s from just after college. He’d posted on his social media profile early that morning that the team was still looking for kids, and the plan had fallen into place in Charlie’s mind.
He’d take Jasper for the day. They’d spend time getting to know each other, and Stephanie could have her first real day off in God knew how long.
But Jasper had only played T-ball a handful of times the previous summer. And now he stood away from the other kids, brand-new glove by his side.
Charlie left his spot by the fence and went to stand by the little boy. “How’s it going?”
“I don’t know how to play this game,” said Jasper anxiously. “All the other kids know how to play.”
“That’s not true. Mark’s daughter needs someone to toss the ball with.” Mark’s girl was busy following the coach around at close range, throwing a baseball into her glove over and over, like a seasoned pro.
Jasper grimaced. “I don’t know…”
“Give it a shot,” he coaxed, then summoned Mark with a wave. Inside of a minute, the two kids were tossing a ball back and forth, and Charlie’s pride surged strong in his chest. He was doing this. He’d introduced Jasper to something new, and now he was…well, if not excelling at it, at least trying it. That was all Charlie could ask for.
The T-ball practice sped by, ending with the kids taking turns hitting the ball off the tee. Jasper went last. Charlie held his breath as he wound up and let the bat fly, whiffing it. Mark was right there to encourage him. “It’s all right, bud. Give it another try.”
Charlie took his phone from his pocket. He needed to get a video of this.
He hit record just in time to catch Jasper absolutely nailing it, the ball soaring into the outfield. Is this what it’s like, being a dad? He was so proud that it was almost like being high, with none of the terrible side effects.
“That’s it, kids!” Mark called, and Charlie looked up to find that the rest of the parents had arrived while he’d been focused on Jasper. The little boy ran to him, tugging off his glove as he came, and Mark was close behind.
“My man,” Mark said. “I’m glad you came by this morning.”
“So are we. At least, I think we are. Is that right, Jasper?”
Jasper beamed up at him from underneath his red baseball cap. “I’m glad. I’m so excited,” he shouted.
Mark’s eyes lit up. “There’s room on the team, you know. This was just our first informal practice. The season starts next week.”
“I want to be on the team,” said Jasper. “Can I? Can I?”
Mark raised his hand and gave Jasper a high five. “You’re in.” He shot Charlie a wink. “Text me later for the paperwork,” he said, then went to chat with the other parents.
He took Jasper for a long lunch at a neighborhood restaurant, ending with molten chocolate cake. Jasper grinned across the table at him, chocolate all over his face. “This is really good. Can we do this again soon? Can we bring mama?”
“Of course,” said Charlie.
“What about the papers?”
“What papers, bud?”
His son looked at him with sparkling eyes. “The coach said there were papers. You were supposed to get the papers, and then I can be on the team.”
“You know what? I’ll text him right now.”
It was the easiest form Charlie had ever filled out in his life. He scrawled his signature at the bottom with his finger and submitted the form while Jasper watched, huddled close on his side of the booth.
“There,” he said. “All done.”
Jasper punched the air. “Yes.”
This was real success.
They took their time after lunch, walking back in the direction of Charlie’s condo and looking at whatever struck their fancy in the store windows. By the time they reached the park half a block from his place, Jasper had a bag with a comic book in it and an oversized lollipop from the candy store that had been attached to the comic-book store. It had felt so good to buy it for Jasper that Charlie had set aside the fact that nobody really needs a lollipop that huge.
Stephanie waited for them on one of the park benches. When she heard th
em coming she lifted her eyes from her book, and her face lit up as if seeing them was on par with winning the lottery.
For Charlie, seeing her was on par with winning the lottery.
“Hey!” She stood up and gave Jasper a big hug, and the three of them continued down the path that cut through the center of the park. “How was your day?”
“It was really, really good,” said Jasper. “I’m on the team.”
“That’s great,” Stephanie said. “Wait, what? What team?”
“We went to T-ball practice this morning,” said Charlie. “My buddy Mark is the coach for one of the teams. He explained the social media post, and how well Jasper had done. He didn’t mention the rocky start. “I have a video.” He pulled out his phone and showed it to her, chest swelling with pride as if he were watching it for the first time. “So, toward the end, Mark let us know there’s still room on the team. He texted me the paperwork, and I signed Jasper up.”
The smile fled Stephanie’s face in an instant. “You did what?”
“I signed him up for T-ball.” Charlie laughed. “It was the world’s easiest form, and I just put—”
“You can’t do that.” Stephanie turned resolutely back toward the path. “You can run ahead a minute, Jasper.”
Jasper took off ahead of them, feet scraping on the path. He turned back every so often to keep them in sight.
“I thought he’d like it.” Charlie’s chest had gone tight. It felt like a storm cloud had covered the sun. One minute, everything had been fine between him and Stephanie—more than fine. And now… “It was only a sign-up sheet.”
“We don’t live here,” snapped Stephanie. “You’ve just set him up for disappointment. And you didn’t even think to check with me first?”
All of it landed with a one-two-three punch that knocked the wind out of Charlie. Pain bloomed where she’d landed the hits, which seemed to be roughly in the region of his heart.
“I wasn’t trying to get his hopes up. I just thought…” What had he thought? She was right, even though it hurt. Stephanie was in charge of choosing her son’s activities. He hadn’t earned the right to step in like he had…not yet.