He took his time, teasing her lips further apart, testing her response. She lifted her hands to his chest, and he half expected her to push him away. He would have been disappointed, but not really surprised. But then her hands slid over his shoulders to link behind his head, and she pressed herself closer, so that her breasts were crushed against his chest, her hips pressed against his.
She had to know he was aroused—there was no way she could think the erection throbbing inside the front of his pants was anything else—but she didn’t pull away. His hand slid under the hem of her T-shirt, skimmed up her back. She shivered in response to his touch on her bare skin and moaned in pleasure. It was that low, sexy sound deep in her throat—proof that she wanted this every bit as much as he did—that nearly undid him.
He’d wanted to kiss her—and now that he had, he wanted so much more. But he’d promised himself that he would take things slow, which was a lot harder to do than he’d expected with his heart pounding so fiercely inside his chest and his blood pulsing hotly in his veins.
He eased his lips from hers but kept his arms around her to ensure she couldn’t flee. Because he could see, even in eyes still clouded with desire, the first hint of panic beginning to set in. And her words, when she spoke, confirmed her worry.
“That was a really bad idea,” she told him.
“I have to disagree.”
“We’re neighbors and, hopefully, friends.”
“I’d say that’s a good start to any relationship.”
She shook her head. “I’m not looking for a relationship.”
“Because you’re still grieving for your husband,” he guessed.
“Because I need to focus on my kids,” she clarified. “And they don’t leave me enough time or energy for any kind of romantic involvement.”
“Okay—we’ll put a hold on the romance portion of things.”
“That includes the kissing portion.”
“You kissed me first,” he pointed out.
“Not like that,” she protested.
“You didn’t like the way I kissed you?”
She rolled her eyes. “Is your ego so fragile that you need to fish for compliments?”
“So you did enjoy kissing me,” he surmised.
“It seems you’re a man of many talents, Dr. Garrett.”
“That kiss barely scratched the surface.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” she admitted.
“There’s something between us,” he told her.
“It’s a basic physical attraction.”
“It’s more than that.”
She shook her head again. “I won’t let it be anything more than that.”
He smiled. “You think it’s your decision to make?”
“Yes.” Her tone was firm and unequivocal. “I make my own choices, and I’m not getting romantically involved with you.”
But he caught the slightest hint of desperation in her tone now and was torn between wanting to offer reassurance and challenge her conviction. Instead, he opted for a casual shrug. “Okay.”
Her gaze narrowed suspiciously. “Okay?”
“You’ve obviously made up your mind,” he acknowledged.
“I have,” she confirmed. “And I appreciate that you’re respecting my decision.”
“I do,” he agreed. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not going to do everything in my power to change your mind.”
“You’ll be wasting your time,” she warned.
He shrugged again. “I figure it’s my time to waste.”
Her sigh was filled with exasperation. “But why would you want to waste your time with me when there are any number of women in this town who would be thrilled to be with you?”
He grinned. “Any number, huh?”
“As if you didn’t know that everywhere you and your brothers go, female heads swivel in your direction.”
“It’s been like that since high school,” he admitted. “It’s a curse.”
“And how long ago was high school?” she asked, in what seemed to him an abrupt shift in the conversation.
“Almost twenty years,” he admitted. “Why?”
“Because in the past few weeks, every time I go into town someone refers to me as the young mother from New York City who moved in next to Dr. Garrett—conveniently overlooking the fact that I was here before you. And on top of that, I’ve had at least half a dozen people tell me about the grand slam home run you knocked out of the park in the bottom of the thirteenth inning to bring home the district championship.”
“Only half a dozen?” He frowned. “I guess my legend is truly fading.”
She just shook her head.
“Did you ever play baseball?” he asked.
“Just in gym class at school or the occasional pick-up game at the park when I was a kid.”
“Are you any good?”
“I was never the first one picked for a team, but I wasn’t the last, either.”
“Because we play a co-ed charity softball tournament on the Fourth of July and I’m putting together a team, if you’re interested.”
She shook her head. “I’m not playing any games with you—you’re completely out of my league.”
“I got to first base with you tonight,” he teased. “And you didn’t seem to have any trouble keeping up.”
Her cheeks flushed. “It won’t happen again.”
He just grinned. “I guess time will tell.”
“Matt,” she said warningly.
“I’ll see you soon,” he promised.
His step was much lighter as he made his way across the grass to his own house, and he knew the sizzling kiss he’d shared with Georgia was only part of the reason. Another—maybe even bigger part—was just being with her.
He hadn’t appreciated how much he’d missed having someone to open up to at the end of a difficult day until she’d sat down beside him and invited him to talk. And she not only listened to him ramble about the stress of his day, she empathized with him. And then she’d kissed him.
True, it had been little more than a casual brush of her lips against his, but he figured it had to mean something that she’d made the first move.
He figured it meant even more that she hadn’t balked—at least not too much—when he made the second.
* * *
A few days later, Matt had just walked into the house after a visit to his brother when his phone rang. Picking up the receiver, he was pleased to hear Georgia’s voice on the other end of the line, and even more pleased when she said, “Have you had dinner yet?”
“No,” he admitted.
“Because we just ordered a party tray of pizza and thought you might want to come over to share it with us.”
“Why did you order a party tray?”
“Because it was the special of the day,” she told him. “And because you’ve cooked for me—twice now—so it only seems fair for me to return the favor. I didn’t actually make the pizza, but I thought I would earn some points by providing the meal.”
“You’re the only one keeping score,” he said.
“Maybe, but the boys would like to share their pizza with you, if you don’t have other plans.”
Adding the kids to the equation obliterated any resistance. “I don’t have other plans,” he admitted. “And pizza sounds great, but would it be too much trouble if I asked you to bring it over here?”
“Not too much trouble,” she told him, “but likely a lot of fingerprints you’ll have to clean up around the house after.”
“I’m not worried about fingerprints,” he assured her.
“Then we’ll be over in five.”
* * *
As much as Georgia tried to convince herself that taking pizza over to Matt’s house was just being neighborly, she knew that wasn’t entirely true. One kiss had changed everything.
One unbelievably hot, mind-numbing, toe-curling kiss.
Since Matt had planted his lips on hers, all kinds of lustful t
houghts had taken root in her mind. Thankfully, she wasn’t just taking pizza but three kids, too, and she was grateful for the buffer that their presence would provide.
Maybe her hormones had been stirred up by that kiss, but she was confident that she still had enough self-control not to jump Matt’s bones in front of her children. Because she’d meant what she’d said to him—she had neither the energy nor the inclination for a romantic relationship, even if she was suddenly, achingly aware that it had been more than a year since she’d had sex.
When Matt stepped out onto the back deck, the twins raced toward him, Shane, predictably, lagging a few feet behind his brother.
“We’ve got pizza!” Quinn announced.
“I hope it has pepperoni,” Matt said, smiling as he took the long, flat box from him.
“Lots and lots of pepperonis,” Shane chimed in. “’Cuz they’re my favorite.”
Matt winked at him. “Mine, too.”
He glanced at Georgia, who had Pippa strapped against her chest, a diaper bag in one hand and a plastic bag in the other, then gave the pizza box back to Quinn with instructions to put it on the table in the dining room.
“Let me give you a hand,” he said.
“Thanks.”
“What have you got in here?” He took the grocery bag.
“Paper plates and napkins, veggies and dip, juice boxes for the boys.”
“I do have plates and napkins.”
“It didn’t seem right to bring dinner then leave you with dirty dishes.”
“I would have let you wash them,” he assured her.
She smiled at his teasing, relieved that there didn’t seem to be any evidence of the awkwardness she’d feared. “This way I don’t have to.”
When Georgia got Pippa settled on a blanket with her favorite toys, she saw that the boys were already seated at the table, eager to dig into dinner. She put a slice on each of their plates and added a few veggies—broccoli and carrots for Quinn and cucumber and red pepper for Shane.
Quinn wrinkled his nose. “Don’t like veggies.”
“Yes, you do,” she reminded him.
He ignored the vegetables and picked up his pizza.
Matt reached into the box to take a couple of pizza slices. Then he looked at the boys’ plates and, with more resignation than enthusiasm, he added some carrot sticks and cucumber slices. Georgia was grateful, because she knew that neither of the boys would protest any further about eating their vegetables if Dr. Matt was eating them, too.
She had just bit into her second slice of pizza when she heard a noise emanating from behind a closed pocket door that led to Matt’s kitchen. She’d noticed the closed door earlier but had assumed he had a sink full of dirty dishes he didn’t want guests to see. When the noise—a whimper?—came again, she suspected that he was hiding something much more significant than unwashed plates.
The boys were already finished eating—including their vegetables—when Matt confirmed her suspicions.
“Do you guys want to see what I’ve got in the kitchen?” he asked them.
“Is it ice cream?” Quinn asked hopefully.
“Sorry,” Matt said. “It’s not ice cream.”
“I like ice cream,” Shane told him.
He ruffled the little boy’s hair, and Shane smiled shyly in response to the casually affectionate gesture. “Then I’ll make sure I have ice cream for next time.”
“Whatcha got this time?” Quinn wanted to know.
In response, Matt started to open the door. He’d barely slid the barrier a few inches when a tiny bundle of fur wriggled through the narrow opening. He held his breath, not entirely sure that this surprise would go over as well as he’d anticipated. Not that he doubted the twins’ response, but their mother’s reaction wasn’t quite so easy to gauge.
“A puppy!” Quinn announced.
The boys were already on the floor, fussing over it. Georgia pushed away from the table to join her sons.
“Are you pet-sitting for your brother?” she asked Matt.
“No,” he admitted.
Her eyes widened. “He’s yours?”
“Actually—” he opened the door farther and picked up a second puppy “—they’re both mine.”
“Two?”
He shrugged. “Well, they were the only two left, and they’re brothers.”
She looked up at him, her blue eyes reflecting equal parts amusement and approval, and he felt as if his heart had actually swelled inside of his chest.
“You really are a softie, aren’t you?” she said.
“I’m thinking ‘sucker’ is more accurate,” he admitted, and bent to put the second puppy down on the floor with the first.
“What are their names?” Quinn wanted to know.
“I only just brought them home,” Matt said. “I haven’t had time to give them names yet.”
“You hafta pick good names,” Quinn told him. “Not like Fluffy or Buttercup.” He wrinkled his nose in obvious disapproval of such choices.
“No Fluffy or Buttercup,” Matt promised solemnly.
Shane giggled as a tiny pink tongue swiped his chin. “Finnigan,” he said.
Matt’s brows lifted, as surprised by the unusual suggestion as the fact that Shane had offered it.
“Finnigan?” he queried.
“And Frederick,” Quinn declared.
“They’re characters on a television show,” she explained.
Shane looked up at him. “They’re brothers.”
“In that case,” Matt said, “I guess the only question now is, which one is Finnigan and which one is Frederick?”
The boys were in complete agreement about the assignment of the names, and it warmed Matt’s heart to see their enthusiasm about the puppies. Then he looked up and saw Georgia looking at him, and the small smile on her lips warmed every other part of him.
Chapter Nine
Since bringing the puppies home, Matt had more than a few moments when he wondered, What the hell was I thinking? When he saw Quinn and Shane fussing over Finnigan and Frederick, he understood that he had been thinking of this exact moment. Not that he’d brought the puppies home just to score points with the little boys, but he couldn’t deny that their apparent affection for the animals had been a factor in his decision.
“A tree house and puppies,” Georgia mused. “My kids are going to be spending more time in your backyard than their own.”
“That’s okay with me,” he said, dropping his voice so that the boys couldn’t hear him. “Especially if their mom comes with them.”
She picked up Pippa, who had begun to fuss. “Are you flirting with me?”
“Obviously I’m not doing a very good job of it if you have to ask.”
“I just don’t know why you’d bother when you know I have no intention of getting involved with you.”
“I know that’s what you said,” he acknowledged.
She lifted a brow. “You don’t think I meant it?”
“I think I can change your mind.”
“I think you should take the puppies and the boys outside while I clear up in here,” she countered, in an obvious attempt to change the topic of conversation.
“Don’t worry about clearing up, I’ll take care of it later.”
“Okay, then, why don’t you take the puppies and boys outside so I can feed Pippa?”
And he finally grasped that she hadn’t been trying to change the topic so much as she’d been trying to get him out of the house so she could have some privacy. Not that he had any objections to the sight of a woman nursing her child, but he understood that Georgia might be a little self-conscious about baring her breast in front of him, especially now that she knew he wanted her in his bed.
“Matt?” she prompted.
“Take the boys and puppies outside,” he agreed. “I can do that.”
So he did, and he sat on the deck watching as the boys and their canine companions ran and jumped and wrestled in the grass. He tried to
remember what Liam had been like at the same age, then felt a pang deep in his heart when he recalled that his son had been gone from his life before he’d celebrated his third birthday.
Matt shoved the painful memories to the back of his mind. He’d spent far too much time wishing for what he’d lost and wondering what might have been. When he’d finally sold his condo and bought this house on Larkspur Drive, he’d promised himself that he was finished living in the past and vowed to focus on the future. Now he found himself hoping that his future might include his beautiful neighbor and her three kids.
But convincing Georgia that she wanted the same thing was going to take some work.
* * *
Much to Quinn’s and Shane’s disappointment, the puppies tired out long before they did.
“How come he doesn’t wanna play with me no more?” Quinn asked, stroking the soft fur of the puppy that had fallen asleep in his lap.
“He’s just tired out right now,” Matt told him. “He’s still just a baby, even younger than your sister.”
“Are the puppies gonna wake you up at night?”
“I hope not,” he said fervently.
“What if they do?” Quinn pressed, followed by Shane’s question, “Are they gonna sleep in your bed?”
“No.” His response to the latter question was firm.
“I’d let him sleep with me,” Shane said. “If I had a puppy.”
“I think your mom might have something to say about that,” Matt told him.
“She lets me sleep in her bed when I have a bad dream,” Quinn said.
Matt didn’t think that excuse was going to get him access to Georgia’s bed, but he hadn’t given up hope that he would be there. Preferably sooner rather than later, because he was getting tired of cold showers.
“I wish I had a puppy,” Shane said wistfully.
“A puppy’s a lot of work,” Matt told him. “And your mom already has a lot to do, taking care of you and your brother and your sister.”
“I’d take care of the puppy. She wouldn’t hafta do nothin’,” Quinn vowed.
Matt couldn’t help but smile in response to the fervent promise that countless boys had used on their mothers over the years—mostly ineffectively.
From Neighbors...to Newlyweds? Page 10