From Neighbors...to Newlyweds?

by Brenda Harlen

  “He never proposed?” Now Matt was the one who sounded incredulous.

  “The topic of marriage came up in conversation and we decided it was what we both wanted, so we got married. The formalities weren’t as important as being together to either of us.”

  He shook his head. “Next you’re going to tell me that you got married at city hall.”

  “What’s wrong with that?”

  “Not a thing—if that’s what you wanted,” he said.

  She’d told herself that it was, that she didn’t need a white dress or a bouquet of flowers. She wasn’t the type to be influenced by romantic trappings or swayed by amorous words. She wasn’t like her mother.

  But there had been a few occasions—usually other people’s weddings—when she found herself wishing they’d done things a little differently. Not that she’d ever admitted it to anyone, and she wasn’t going to do so now. Instead, she stood up. “I should check on the kids.”

  She’d set the twins up in the living room to watch a program on the Discovery Channel, but now they were both fast asleep.

  “I hope this isn’t a premonition,” she murmured to Matt, who had followed her into the house.

  “Of what?”

  “Their attention span for educational instruction. I don’t want them falling asleep in class when they start kindergarten in September.”

  “I don’t think you need to worry. They just crashed because they had an incredibly busy day.”

  She nodded, acknowledging the point. “But regardless of how exhausted they were, if I’d put cartoons on TV, they’d still be awake.”

  “Which is obviously why you didn’t put cartoons on.”

  But now that they were asleep, she was second-guessing her choice. Because Quinn and Shane were supposed to be her chaperones, and she was suddenly conscious of being unchaperoned with her sexy neighbor. “I should get them home.”

  “You’re going to wake them up to take them home so they can go to sleep?”

  “They should be in their beds,” she insisted.

  “They seem comfortable enough,” he noted.

  Looking at her boys cuddled up with the puppies, Georgia couldn’t disagree. But that didn’t make her any less uneasy.

  They moved into the kitchen, where their conversation wouldn’t disturb the kids, and Matt said, “I should have considered that you might be tired. How are you holding up?”

  “I didn’t do anything all day. Your brother cooked the burgers, your friends supplied the rest of the food, Brittney occupied the boys, and everyone else took turns with the baby.” She looked up at him and smiled. “In fact, I was thinking we should do it again tomorrow.”

  The implication of her words registered too late, and she immediately tried to backtrack.

  “I didn’t mean to imply... I mean, I don’t expect you to spend all of your free time hanging out with me and my kids.”

  Matt just shook his head. “When are you going to figure out that I like hanging out with you and your kids?”

  “It’s starting to sink in,” she told him.

  “Maybe this will help,” he said, and lowered his mouth to hers.

  Chapter Twelve

  Matt prided himself on being a patient man. When he’d decided that he wanted Georgia—about three minutes after their first meeting—he’d accepted that it would probably take her some time to come to the same realization. He also figured there was no harm in nudging her in that direction.

  He braced his hands on the counter, bracketing her between them, and brushed his lips over hers softly, slowly. Her eyes fluttered, closed. He traced the shape of her mouth with just the tip of his tongue. She breathed out a sigh.

  Apparently she didn’t need as much nudging as he’d anticipated, because when he swept along the seam of her lips, they parted willingly. His hands moved from the counter to her hips; her palms slid over his chest, her hands linking behind his neck.

  He deepened the kiss, stroking the inside of her mouth with his tongue. He didn’t demand a response but coaxed it from her. Their tongues danced together in a sensual rhythm of advance and retreat that had all the blood rushing from his head. Part of him felt as if he could go on kissing her for hours, but another part refused to be satisfied with kissing.

  His hands moved up her rib cage, over her breasts. She moaned and pressed closer. This was exactly how he wanted her—warm and willing in his arms. His hands curved around her bottom, pulling her tight against him. He was rock hard and aching with wanting her, and she was rubbing against him, her movements so natural and sensual she nearly pushed him to the brink.

  Determined to regain control of the situation, he eased his lips from hers to trail kisses across her jaw, down her throat. He nipped at the nape of her neck, and she shuddered against him. His tongue traced over her collarbone, then along the edge of the lacy cup of her bra. Her skin was so soft, her breasts so perfect and round, and when he nuzzled the hollow between them, he could feel her heart racing.

  He brushed his thumbs over her nipples, and she shuddered again. But when he reached for the clasp at the front of her bra, she pushed his hand away, shaking her head.

  Reminding himself that he’d promised to be patient, he didn’t push back. Instead, he cupped her face in his hands.

  “What are you afraid of, Georgia?”

  “I’m not sure,” she admitted.

  “I’m not going to push for more than you’re ready to give,” he promised.

  Her smile was wry. “Maybe that’s what I’m afraid of. Because there’s a pretty big disparity between what my body wants and what my brain is thinking.”

  He brushed his lips against hers. “Would it be wrong for me to encourage you to listen to your body?”

  “Believe me, my hormones are clamoring loudly enough without any encouragement.”

  “At least you’re no longer trying to deny the chemistry between us.”

  “That would be hypocritical, considering the way I was pressed up against you less than a minute ago.”

  “I liked the way you were pressed up against me,” he assured her. “In fact, feel free to press up against me anytime.”

  She shook her head. “That was a temporary state of mindlessness induced by an overload of hormones after more than a year of celibacy.”

  “Is that what you think it was?” He had to fight to keep his voice level, his tone casual. “Just a combination of factors that really had nothing to do with you and me?”

  Her gaze shifted away. “It seems like the most reasonable explanation.”

  “Then let’s be unreasonable,” he suggested, and lowered his head again to nibble on her bottom lip.

  His efforts were rewarded by a soft moan low in her throat.

  “I can be unreasonable,” she agreed.

  Which sounded like a green light to Matt.

  He allowed his hands to stroke over her shoulders, down her arms, while he continued to kiss her. Deeply. Hungrily. And she responded with equal passion.

  His hand slipped down the front of her shorts, dipped inside her panties. She gasped as his fingers sifted through the soft curls in search of her womanly core. He had to bite back his own moan when he found her hot and wet and oh-so-ready.

  He slid a finger deep inside of her, and let his thumb zero in on the tiny nub of her most sensitive erogenous zone. She moaned again but made no protest as he slowly and inexorably coaxed her closer and closer to the pinnacle of her pleasure.

  She was mindless now, writhing and panting. He didn’t disagree that hormones played a role in what was happening here, but he knew that it was more than that. And he wanted more than hot, meaningless sex—he wanted intimacy. From the first, he’d sensed that deeper level of connection with Georgia, and he’d be damned if he’d let her dismiss what was between them as nothing more than a transitory urge.

  He slid his finger in again, then two fingers. In and out, deeper and faster now, while his thumb continued to stroke her nub. He felt the cl
amp of her inner muscles around his fingers in the exact moment that her teeth sank into his bottom lip, the unexpected shock of erotic pleasure nearly bringing him to climax. He clamped his other arm around her waist, holding on to her, while the shudders racked her body.

  She eased her lips from his and dropped her head against his chest. But several minutes passed before she said anything, and then it was only, “Oh. My. Wow.”

  He managed to smile, though his own body was screaming for its own release. And when she reached for the button of his shorts, her fingertips brushing the top of his aching erection, it took more willpower than he knew he possessed to stop her.

  But he caught her hands in his, held them at her sides. “It’s late. You should be getting home.”

  She just stared at him, stunned. “But don’t you want to...finish?”

  “What I want,” he told her, “is to take you upstairs, slowly strip every piece of clothing away, and spend hours touching and kissing you all over until you’re begging for me.”

  She swallowed. “So why...are you sending me away?”

  “Aside from the fact that your screams of pleasure might wake your kids?”

  Her cheeks flushed. “I guess that’s a good reason.”

  “But the main reason,” he continued, “is that I’m not going to make love with you until I know it’s what you want, too. Not because you need a release, but because you want me.”

  She glanced away, but not before he saw that her eyes had filled with tears. Cursing himself, he put a hand on her arm.

  Not surprisingly, she shrugged away from his touch.

  “Should I thank you for taking the edge off?”

  Except that there was still an edge—he could hear it in her voice.

  “It wasn’t all for you,” he said, because it was true. “Touching you was definitely my pleasure.”

  But she turned away, proving that his words hadn’t swayed her. “I need to get the kids home.”

  He held back a sigh. After all, he was the one who had reminded her it was getting late.

  “You take Pippa, I’ll bring the boys.”

  She opened her mouth as if to protest, because even now, she didn’t like to accept help from anyone.

  “Unless you really want to make three trips,” he said.

  “Thank you—I would appreciate your help.” Except that her sharp tone and narrowed gaze contradicted her words.

  She slung Pippa’s diaper bag over her shoulder and lifted the bouncy chair with the baby securely fastened and contentedly slumbering in it. It was a little more awkward for Matt to juggle the twins without waking them up, but he managed.

  He kicked off his shoes inside the front door and carried the boys upstairs to their bedroom while Georgia changed Pippa. He ignored the pajamas that were neatly folded at the foot of each bed and laid Quinn gently on top of his mattress.

  He’d done this before—tucked a sleeping child into his bed. And while the memories of his son usually tore at his heart, tonight—with Georgia’s little boy cuddled up against his chest—he was able to smile at the remembrance.

  Then he eased Shane down onto his pillow and carefully tucked the covers around him. He brushed away a lock of hair and impulsively touched his lips to the child’s forehead.

  “Night-night, Daddy.”

  Matt froze.

  He’d always wanted to be a father, and even after he’d lost Liam, he’d been confident that he would have other children someday. But he hadn’t realized how much he wanted to be a father to Georgia’s kids until he heard the word Daddy slip from Shane’s lips. He knew the little boy was asleep, and that the words had been murmured subconsciously, but that knowledge didn’t prevent them from arrowing straight to his heart.

  He took a moment to compose himself before he moved back to Quinn’s bed, tucked his covers around him and kissed his forehead. He wasn’t sure if he was relieved or disappointed when this twin didn’t stir.

  Georgia was just leaving Pippa’s room when he stepped into the hall. She followed him down the stairs.

  “Thank you,” she said formally. “For helping with the boys and for inviting us to dinner.”

  “You’re welcome,” he said.

  And because he couldn’t resist, he touched his mouth to hers, softly, fleetingly.

  She kept her lips tightly compressed, but her lack of response didn’t faze him. Because he knew now, without a doubt, that she wanted him as much as he wanted her.

  Now he just had to wait for her to come to the same realization.

  * * *

  He was driving Georgia insane.

  Six days after Matt had given her an up-close-and-personal glimpse of the stars and the heavens, he was acting as if absolutely nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Then again, maybe arousing women to the point of climax in his kitchen wasn’t out of the ordinary for him. But it had been an extraordinary experience for her—and an incredibly frustrating one.

  She hadn’t meant to insult him when she’d tried to explain away the sizzle between them as a basic physiological response to their proximity. It made sense to her that more than twelve months of celibacy in combination with post-pregnancy hormones would fuel an attraction to the sexy doctor. But Matt had taken exception to her reasoning and endeavored to prove that what she wanted wasn’t just sex but sex with him.

  And he was right, damn it. Because when she went to sleep that night, she didn’t dream about hot, sweaty sex with nameless, faceless partners, she dreamed about hot, sweaty sex with Matt Garrett. And she woke up craving his kiss, aching for his touch, yearning for the fulfillment she knew only he could give her.

  Since Phillip had passed away, she’d been a mom first and foremost. She’d been dealing with the twins’ grief and her own pregnancy. She hadn’t missed sex—in fact, she hadn’t even thought about it. For more than a year, it was as if every womanly urge in her body had simply shut down. And then Matt Garrett had moved in next door.

  Being around him stirred all kinds of wants and needs inside of her. He made her feel like a whole woman again. Except that, in the past six days, nada. Not one kiss, not the brush of a single fingertip on her skin, nothing.

  Not that he was avoiding her. In fact, she was practically tripping over him every time she turned around. He was solicitous and helpful and he continued to spend a lot of his free time with the boys. He’d even taken it upon himself to make a trip to the local garden center and arranged for a delivery of sand to fill the empty box at the back of her mother’s yard. And he was out there with the boys now, driving dump trucks, bulldozers and cement mixers through the sand right alongside them.

  Yeah, he was having a great time with the boys, and he hadn’t made a single move to touch her or kiss her in six days. At first she’d thought he was punishing her, then she started to wonder if he’d lost interest, maybe he’d decided that she wasn’t worth the effort. Except then she’d catch him looking at her, and the intense heat of his stare certainly didn’t telegraph disinterest.

  Stepping outside, she called to the boys. “Quinn, Shane—lunch is ready.”

  The boys jumped up, wiping their sand-covered hands on their shorts before they raced toward the house. Matt followed behind them, at a more leisurely pace. While the boys went inside to wash up, she waited for her neighbor.

  “I made a pot of chili, if you wanted to join us.”

  “Thanks, but I’ve got some things I have to do.”

  She stepped in front of him, blocking his path. “Are you going to stay mad at me forever?”

  “I’m not mad at you,” he told her.

  “Then why haven’t you kissed me in six days?”

  The corner of his mouth tilted up in a half smile. “You’ve been counting the days?”

  She lifted her chin, met his gaze evenly. “Have you changed your mind about wanting me?”

  The answer was evident in his eyes before he spoke. The glint of amusement in his gaze immediately replaced by desire—hot and hun
gry and unrestrained. “No,” he said slowly. “I haven’t changed my mind.”

  “So why haven’t you kissed me?”

  “Because I was afraid that if I started, I wouldn’t be able to stop.”

  She swallowed. “Maybe I wouldn’t want you to stop.”

  He took a step back. “Let me know when you can make that statement without the ‘maybe.’”

  “I’m sorry,” she said with a sigh. “I’m not playing hard-to-get. At least, not on purpose.”

  His smile was wry. “I know.”

  And then he pressed a quick kiss to her lips.

  It was almost too quick, and he was walking away before the fact even registered in her brain. But it had certainly registered in her body, zinging through every nerve ending from the tip of her head to the soles of her feet and everywhere in between.

  If she thought about it, she might have worried that her response to the casual touch was too much. But in the moment, all she could think was that she wanted much more. That she wanted him to kiss her and touch her and never stop.

  But she wasn’t ready to say the words out loud. And even if she was, it was too late.

  He was already gone.

  * * *

  A few days later, Georgia decided to reward herself for finishing her reports on three slush pile submissions with a trip to the park. Since the boys had mostly behaved and let her focus on her work, she decided to take them with her. It wasn’t until they got to the park and she saw Matt in the outfield that she knew his team—the Garrett Gators—was practicing today.

  While the boys played—Shane no longer encumbered by the cast that had been removed the day before—she put Pippa on her blanket on the grass. Her daughter had recently learned to roll from her stomach to her back and vice versa, and she happily spent a lot of time practicing her new skill. While Georgia was proud of her daughter, she was also a little wary. Pippa’s increased mobility required even greater diligence because Georgia knew that if she turned her back for a moment, the baby might roll out of sight. For the moment, however, she seemed content just to go back and forth.

  “Heads up!”