Package Deal

by Chris Chegri

  A flash of worry nagged him. Maybe Lacy was sick. He erased the message and reset the machine. Feeling more assured about his decision to go over, he hurried into the bathroom to shower. Maybe she wouldn’t kick him out after all.

  Steve pulled the Jeep onto Cabana Court and spotted the eighteen-wheeler in front of the house. He parked across the street and followed two men carrying a sofa up the driveway.

  When he entered the house, he gave Kelly the most disarming smile he could muster. “Looks like I’m just in time.”

  She didn’t look surprised to see him. “I think you have rocks in your head, Steve McCarthy.” She grinned at him—all the apology he needed. Her eyes, blue and cloudless as a summer sky, held him spellbound. “I think you’re into abuse.”

  Steve shrugged. “That depends on who’s delivering.”

  Her face softened. “I’m sorry about the other night,” she said, breaking eye contact.

  “Don’t be. I pushed you, and you reacted the same way I would have if somebody had shoved me against the wall.”

  “No. I take my parenting seriously, and I’m not very good at taking orders. I’m stubborn, and I admit it.”

  “I’ve noticed.”

  As one of the movers came through the front door with the headboard to her bed, Steve took her by the arm and moved her out of the way. “I can be stubborn, too, Kelly.”

  The mover disappeared down the hall, and Steve turned her around to face him. He rubbed the back of her arms with his palms and studied her face, considering his next move. Then he let her go.

  “Look, Pearson, I’d love to stand here and talk, but we have work to do. Let’s get busy and get rid of these guys, so we can have some real conversation.” He kissed her on the lips, silencing any protest, and then followed the movers into the bedroom.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Kelly’s heartbeat fluttered against the wall of her chest. Steve’s kiss wasn’t a kiss of passion but comfortable familiarity, as if they’d been together for years. Ken had never kissed her that way—only during sex, in the clutch of passion. Now she realized what she had missed.

  She pressed the back of her hand to her lips. It was a little scary, but wonderful, and she hurried to busy herself rather than dwell on something he no doubt viewed as quite insignificant.

  There was so much to do. While Kelly unpacked the kitchen, Steve moved furniture to suit her wishes, hooked up her computer and printer, hung pictures, and assembled the beds.

  She had labeled each box, intending for the movers to transfer them from the van to the appropriate room. Wrong. Apparently this was another fantasy of hers. However, with minimal instruction, Steve relocated the boxes to their designated rooms. When everything was situated, and he had tightened the last screw on Lacy’s canopy bed, Kelly made-up the bed, and tucked in her droopy-eyed six-year-old for the night.

  “God, it’ll feel great to sleep in my own bed.” Kelly closed the bedroom door. “My whole body aches from those stupid lawn chairs.”

  “Giving up the outdoor life so soon?” he said, his voice filled with friendly sarcasm. He laid his arm buddy-fashion across Kelly’s tired shoulders. “I was going to suggest a camping trip to the Everglades next weekend.”

  Kelly jabbed him in the rib cage. “You even utter ‘I told you so,’ and they’ll find your remains in a trash dumpster, Steve-know-it-all-McCarthy.”

  His features froze with intimidation, twisting her glare into a grin. “Do you hear me talking?”

  She laughed. “You jerk.” She pushed his arm from her shoulder.

  “Hey, I believe you. How do I know you’re not some infamous serial killer from California, luring in innocent men with those gorgeous blue eyes and doing all sorts of unimaginable things to them before you finish them off?”

  “You have a vivid imagination, McCarthy.” She cleared her thoughts. “I’m too tired tonight to hurt anyone. You’re safe.”

  He followed her into the bedroom. “Too bad,” he said, disappointment peppering his voice.

  ***

  Kelly was right. His imagination was vivid, and the more time Steve spent with her, the more vivid it became. She wasn’t the hard, icy woman he’d first thought she was. She was soft, good-humored, feminine, and he had to fight himself to keep his hands off her. Oh, he’d thought about moving on her, giving the relationship a small nudge. What man wouldn’t? He’d identified her stubborn streak and knew Kelly would have to think the first move was her idea. Waiting would be rough on him. Even now, watching her lean into a box and dig for sheets nearly drove him nuts.

  She’d pulled her black hair back into a ponytail, and the contrast, where it hung against the creamy skin of her neck, tantalized him. His fingertips itched to reach out and touch her. He looked from Kelly to the unmade bed, his heart speeding up and his stomach aching with need. He wanted her. Not because she was a beautiful woman—he’d gotten over the chemical attraction after their house hunt outing. He cared about her now, and he thought he was beginning to understand her, whether she wanted him to or not. He also cared about Lacy.

  Kelly tossed him a sheet. “Here, make yourself useful!”

  She broke his concentration. If she’d known what he’d been thinking, she would have flushed crimson or thrown him out on his ear.

  Steve worked one side of the bed while she worked the other. The sight of the clean sheets, snapping over the corners of the mattress, only intensified his craving for her. Parts of him became weak while others stiffened. When the comforter had been smoothed over the sheets, Kelly collapsed on top of the bed.

  “I’m finished. I can’t move another thing.” She pulled her ponytail free and her hair fanned out across the pastel pillow.

  “Good. I like it when a woman can’t fight back.”

  ***

  When Steve dropped onto the edge of the bed, Kelly lifted her head to look at him. His eyes sizzled with unconcealed passion. She rolled onto her side, feeling vulnerable, her heart pounding against her rib cage. His remark may have been in fun, but she knew he meant it. She could see it in his eyes.

  Steve slid onto his side and stretched out beside her, his body longer and harder than her own. He rested one hand on her stomach. Her breath caught in her throat, any response dying before it reached her lips. A soothing warmth spread from beneath his hand along the length of her limbs. She didn’t move, afraid he might hear her heartbeat, worried she might slur her words if she tried to speak.

  Steve reached up and touched her cheek, and Kelly recognized the turbulence clouding his green eyes. She faced a lusty storm, in him and in herself. Her head warned her to stop before it was too late—before she crossed the safe boundaries she’d built for herself. But her heart, swollen with need, had lain dormant too long and now told her to cast aside the shadows of the past and trust this man.

  ***

  Kelly opened her mouth to object and Steve silenced her with his kiss, stifling any protest from her. Sensing her hesitancy, he held her close, stroking her silken hair while devouring her mouth. Fearing the brevity of their embrace, he nipped at her lower lip, tasting, feeling, exploring its fullness with the tip of his tongue. Her mouth tasted salty with the sweat of their labors, but he had trouble recalling a sweeter kiss.

  Tangling his fingers in her hair, he slid his hand beneath her neck and cradled her head, his mouth moving over hers with caution, afraid she might pull away. He breathed in her fragrance, a warm spicy scent he’d noticed on other occasions. It engulfed him. He wanted her so bad. He pressed against her, needing her response.

  Kelly wrapped her arms around his neck, threading her fingers through his hair. Steve shivered beneath her touch, his desire growing bolder, his kisses more and more demanding. Her lips parted, and when their tongues collided, his loins tightened in response. He wanted her to want him. He needed her to want him because…his thoughts faltered…he was falling in love with her.

  With his free hand, he caressed her rib cage, seeking the loose end of h
er t-shirt. In his thoughts, he begged her to be as ready as he was but sensed, from the physical space she maintained between them, that she was not. He slid his hand under her shirt, and he sighed when he touched the soft, rounded breast spilling over the top of her bra—still moist and warm from their labors. She moaned against his neck, yielding to him, her skin beneath his fingertips rippling with goose bumps. He smoothed them away with gentle strokes of his fingertips.

  Kelly moved one hand lower along his back, digging in with her nails. She seemed to relax under his touch, but still with no certainty. Steve tugged at the cotton bra.

  Kelly grabbed his wrist. What?” he asked, his voice sounding high, even to him. Disappointed, he wasn’t surprised.

  She pushed against his chest, separating them, her breath ragged, hands trembling. “Steve, please,” was all she said.

  With reluctance, he backed off, giving her space, but he wondered how long he could continue to maintain control. Kissing her might prove to have been his biggest mistake. Now, just being near her would be twice the torment.

  Kelly scanned the disarray, perhaps searching for diversion from the awkward silence between them.

  Attempting to save her from an otherwise uncomfortable moment, he jumped up from the bed, needing to come up for fresh air as much as she did—maybe more.

  “I almost forgot something. Be right back.”

  He lurched down the hall, his gait hampered by his arousal. He couldn’t take much more of this togetherness without splitting his seams.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  The front door opened with a creak and closed again a few minutes later, followed by the clatter of kitchen cabinets slamming. Her breathing slowed to normal, and she sat up, readjusting her clothes. She hoped he didn’t think she was a tease. Maybe she should be honest and tell him he was the first man to touch her since her divorce.

  Where is he? She slipped off the bed. Curious, she wandered into the kitchen.

  “Champagne!” Steve handed her a glass.

  She let out the breath she’d been holding, glad to see he wasn’t mad, and accepted the glass. “You had this in your car?”

  He nodded, and she laughed, breaking through the tension.

  “Yeah. I figured this was a special occasion. It’s certainly been a long-awaited moment.”

  “You’re right.” Kelly looked around the small rooms filled with her things. The rooms were bright and comfortable. Her sofa fit well on one wall of the living room, and her grandmother’s antique desk occupied one corner. The throw pillows her mother had crocheted for her last Christmas brightened the chair beside the couch. It really did feel like home, her home, at last.

  Steve filled a second glass for himself. “A toast! To your new home.” His green eyes sparkled.

  Kelly clinked her glass against his. She took a long, satisfying swallow of the cool bubbly liquid. “Thanks, Steve. This is nice. Really nice.”

  “You’re nice,” he said, his expression serious, still clouded with passion.

  She looked him squarely in the eye. “No. I’m usually nice, or I try to be, but lately I’ve been moody, stubborn, even defensive, while you’ve gone the extra yard and remained thoughtful and patient, genuinely kind.” She knew Robby would have liked Steve. They would have ended up good buddies. “Except for a bit of sarcasm the other night.”

  ***

  She was beautiful, but Steve could see she was ragged around the edges. “I’m sorry about the other night. I’m not perfect, and I admit it. I also think you’re being too hard on yourself, Pearson.”

  He rinsed his glass and crossed into the living room. “I’m going to head out. I know you’re exhausted. This can be finished up this weekend.”

  A mixture of relief and disappointment swirled in her eyes. He wanted to stay, ached to make love to her, hold her throughout the night, and stroke her gleaming black hair until the sun rose again, but he would be patient and wait for an invitation. When she knew she was ready—in no uncertain terms—he would make love to her. Only then would it be right. He sensed the time was near but not tonight.

  Kelly followed him to the door.

  Steve hesitated, waiting for her to catch up with him. “Want me to come over tomorrow night. I promise I won’t if you say no.”

  He hoped what happened in the bedroom hadn’t done more damage than good. She had responded to him with as much passion as reluctance.

  “Yes,” she replied. “Please come. I’ll try to be on good behavior.”

  Steve arched his eyebrows in surprise, and Kelly laughed. This was progress. He was a man in love, and he thought, at last, he might have a chance with her.

  “Okay. I’ll bring Chinese takeout or something. Maybe we could take Lacy to a movie. A family date.”

  “That would be nice,” she agreed. “Saturday night I’m cooking, and you’re invited. I’m starving for a home-cooked meal. If I wasn’t so tired right now, I’d be tearing up the kitchen.”

  “You’re on. Can I bring the groceries or dessert? Something?”

  “No, I’ll pick up everything. Just bring yourself.”

  “Let me do something,” he insisted. “I’ll feel worthless.”

  “Worthless? I could kiss you for everything you’ve already done for me.”

  “You already have,” he said, regretting the innuendo when her eyelids dropped to shield her smoky eyes. “You could kiss me now, but I’m all sweaty.”

  Standing this close and not touching her was painful. He wanted to feel her moist mouth tremble beneath his. He wanted to run his fingers along the firm length of her thigh and share delicious, indescribable intimacies with her throughout the night then wake up in the morning and share a simple breakfast. Maybe even a walk on the beach, hand-in-hand.

  ***

  Kelly lifted her chin, and their eyes met. He stood so close she could smell the musky odor of sweat and after-shave mingling on his skin. She guessed it had contributed earlier to her lightheaded surrender. They inched toward one another, Steve holding back, seeming afraid to make the first move while Kelly struggled with her past.

  A wave of recklessness crashed over her, and she decided to go with the flow. “You smell fine to me, McCarthy.”

  Being together felt so right, and she could no longer deny her feelings for him. Their lips were a breath apart. Steve encircled her waist with his arms and pulled her against his chest.

  “Your nose doesn’t work, Pearson.” He brushed his lips across hers, soft as a leaf skipping in the wind.

  She melted against him, all restraint draining away. She had the crazy feeling—more a sensation—she was weightless, her body transformed into a soft breeze. She swept all caution aside.

  ***

  Steve devoured her lips, and she returned his hunger with fervor, surprising him, delighting him, driving him mad for more. She encircled him with her arms, her nails digging into his shoulder blades. He tightened his hold around her rib cage, his back rippling with pleasure beneath her fingertips. He sighed, savoring the taste of her open mouth beneath his. His heart raced, his limbs weakened. He had lost control. He never wanted to stop but knew somehow he had to. She was willing, but weary and appreciative, probably suffering from sensual deprivation after the trials of the last few weeks. It wouldn’t be fair to take advantage of her, although, he couldn’t think of anything he’d rather do. He also knew he couldn’t stand it if she pulled away from him now. No, this time it had to be his move, or his ego and patience might shatter.

  Without warning, he loosened his embrace and eased them apart. “I better go,” he said, his voice thick with passion. “We’re both too tired to be any good at this tonight.”

  Kelly opened her eyes, breathless and dizzy from the ferocity of their kiss. She knew he was wrong about them being too tired, but his timing was right. She needed some distance to think this through before she did something she might regret later.

  “Okay.” She kissed him on the cheek.

  “God, you�
��re so beautiful,” he told her with near reverence. He combed his fingers through her hair. “See you tomorrow. I’ll bring dessert, too.”

  “No. I’ll get the dessert.” She fell against him, unable to deny the warmth of his arms, which closed around her again.

  “You are the dessert.” His breath fluttered against her cheek, sending shivers of pleasure along her neck and shoulders.

  He kissed her again, not urgent as before, but soft, as if she were made of fine crystal and might shatter beneath his lips.

  “Sleep tight, Pearson,” he whispered against her hair, sending a second crescendo of chills spiraling up one side of her neck.

  He winked at her and left.

  When he was gone, Kelly pressed her back against the door, needing it for stability. Her knees trembled, threatening to give out at any minute. As tired as she was, she couldn’t imagine falling asleep would be easy now.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  The acrid odor of burning food stung Kelly’s nose. “Oh, no,” she groaned, dropped the cold washrag pressed to her swollen eyelid and ran into the kitchen. Snatching the pot from the red-hot burner, she lifted the lid and cursed her stupidity for leaving the temperature on high.

  Too late. Pungent smoke curled around the edge of the lid, filling the kitchen in seconds. Kelly switched on the overhead fan, removed the lid, and dropped it into the sink, eyeing the pan’s contents with despair. She was no gourmet cook, but one look told her the peas were goners. Shriveled and burned, they resembled a handful of BBs, and were very possibly welded to the bottom of the pan forever.

  “Why tonight?” She shook her head at her incompetence.

  She covered the pan and placed it in the sink then opened the kitchen window to air out the unpleasant smoke.