He stilled. “Is this your new method of leveling the playing field?”
Her soft laugh was a warm vibration beneath his chest. He covered her mouth with his and began to concentrate on the serious part of the evening. Yes, he had a lot to say, with the glide of his hand down her back and the stroke of his tongue along her lips. And she answered, with a soft sigh of surrender and a flowing ripple of delight.
Somewhere outside, a siren wailed through the night, and the evening shadows grew together into darkness as her mantel clock ticked off the seconds. Her pillows smelled of flowers, like her hair, and she tasted of wine and womanly secrets. He breathed deeply, and tasted deeply, and still couldn’t get his fill of the woman in his arms. He suspected he never would.
Everything between them tonight seemed new and fresh, and yet somehow part of an old, familiar pattern. They rubbed along together, searching and exploring and straining for their perfect fit, their own click of connection. He slid inside her, as easy as an old friend and as fervent as a new lover. She arched up, taking him deeper, welcoming him in, welcoming him home.
So good, so right.
ADDIE SAT ACROSS FROM Dev on her bed near midnight, both of them cross-legged and partially wrapped in her sheet. They’d feasted on the antipasto—sharing a few bites with Dilly—and reminisced about school days and summer vacations. She’d told him about her desire to travel, and he’d told her about some of the places he’d seen. And then they’d made love again, a fast, plunging roller coaster of pleasure and joy that had left them tangled in the quilts, laughing and breathless and sated…for the moment.
She finished her second slice of pizza and began to lick her fingers clean.
“Here,” Dev said, pulling her hand to his mouth. “Let me get that for you.” He sucked on her fingers, tickling them with his tongue. And then he kissed her fingertips, her palm and her wrist before shoving her hand back into her lap and taking another bite of his own pizza slice.
She smiled and grabbed the second bottle from the bucket propped on the mattress. “More?”
He reached behind him to retrieve his goblet from the nightstand, and she dribbled the rest of the wine into his glass. “I wish we could have been together,” she said. “Before, when we were in school.”
“Like this?” He frowned. “We were kids. We still had a lot of growing up to do—I did, anyway.” He gave her one of his long-lashed gazes, the thoughtful kind of expression that was on her list of top-ten favorites. “We might have ruined what we have now.”
She rested her elbows on her knees and folded her hands beneath her chin, cherishing the fact that they had a now to share. And that Dev could shift so easily from passion to philosophy and back again. He was an endlessly fascinating man. “Or we might have skipped all the lost times in between,” she said.
He shrugged and took another bite. “We’ll never know.”
She sighed and stretched out on her side, facing him. “I don’t mind not knowing.”
“You don’t?”
“Does that surprise you?”
“Nothing about you surprises me anymore.” He carefully scooped the rest of their things into the bucket, placed it on the floor and crawled across the bed to sprawl over her in his artless, effective way.
“Now there’s a phrase with more than one interpretation,” she said as she stroked his hair from his eyes.
“We could discuss the possibilities in a different location.” He dropped one of his sweet kisses on the tip of her nose. “Want to find out whether that tub of yours is big enough for two?”
AS DAWN ADDED TRACES of pastel to the gray shadows in Addie’s room on Friday, Dev lay beside her, his chin in his hand, watching her sleep. He’d considered waking her an hour ago for one last, leisurely round of lovemaking, but he’d decided she needed her rest. She had a full day of work ahead of her. And they’d had a very busy night.
And he was content to lie here, watching her. For the first time in his life, he hadn’t awakened with restless dissatisfaction with what he had to do that day or where he happened to be at that moment. He was exactly where he wanted to be and doing exactly what he’d always been meant to do—loving Addie Sutton.
The process of falling for her had been so gradual he couldn’t have seen it if he’d looked. And so inevitable he couldn’t have escaped it if he’d tried. As simple as breathing, as difficult as life could sometimes be. From the moment he’d first seen the fascinating little girl to the moment he’d finally taken the bewitching woman into his arms—every moment had been leading to the next. To this one, here, with her. To love.
Nothing part-time for Dev Chandler anymore, he thought with a stupid, sappy grin. He’d talk with Geneva about a long-term stay in her guest house, and he’d start looking for a job here in the Cove. He didn’t need the money, but he needed to be a permanent part of the place.
The room lightened another degree, and he skimmed a finger down the miniature ski slope of Addie’s nose.
“Mmph.” She moaned and rubbed her nose, opening her eyes. “What? What are you doing?”
“Waking you up.” He shifted closer, tossing his leg over hers, and she snuggled against him, all warm and pillowy. “I should go soon,” he said. “My car’s still parked out in front of your shop.”
She stiffened. “I don’t suppose there’s any point in worrying about that now?”
“Probably not.”
She rolled onto her back with a sigh and stared at her ceiling. “I’m awake now.”
“Good. Because there’s something I want to ask you.”
“Out to breakfast?”
“Sorry.” He combed his fingers through her hair, arranging it over her pillow. “I have to drive out to the bluff to take care of Geneva’s dogs.”
“And I should clean up my shop and get ready for work.”
“Okay, then.” He paused, trying to swallow. Asking a girl for a date shouldn’t dry up all his spit like this—especially when he was in bed with her. “There’s this dance on Saturday night. I want you to come with me.”
The look of shock on her face nearly made him wince. “Are you asking me out?”
“I thought we could give it a try.” He lifted a shoulder in a casual shrug. “If it works, we could go steady.”
“We’re not—”
“Friends? Lovers? A couple?” He leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to her lips. And another, just because he could—and to prove his point. “Maybe it’s time to make some changes.”
She smiled and slid a hand behind his head, pulling him close for a kiss of her own. “Maybe we should take things one step at a time.”
“We’re doing okay so far, aren’t we?” He traced her lower lip with a finger. “Besides, we won’t know unless we give it a shot.”
“All right. I’d love to go out with you on Saturday night.” She smiled and nipped at his fingertip. “Where’s the dance?”
“At The Breakers.”
She stiffened again.
“It’s the anniversary dance,” he said. “Not a ball, really, but—”
“Very dressy.”
“Yeah. Kind of.” He hadn’t packed a suit, he realized with a frown. He hoped he could find one on short notice.
He shoved his way through the tangle of quilts on her bed and grabbed his jeans from the floor. And then he leaned back to take her in his arms and kiss her some more because he still couldn’t get enough of her, although he sure enjoyed trying to. “Addie?”
“Yes?”
“Remember when I said last night that nothing you do surprises me anymore?”
“Yes.”
“I was wrong.” He kissed her again. “You snore.”
DEV RAISED A HAND in greeting Friday afternoon as Geneva strode across the tarmac with the other shuttle passengers, heading toward the tiny airport’s arrival gate. She adjusted the shoulder strap on her tote and responded with a smile. She looked happy and rested, he noted as she drew near. And he was incredibly happy
to see her.
But then, he was incredibly happy with everything today.
He moved to one side of the small patio cordoned off from the tarmac with a low chain-link fence and waited until she’d passed through the gate. And then he stepped forward, wrapped his arms around her and hugged her tightly, lifting her off the ground and swinging her in a circle.
“Well.” She wrestled a smile under control and patted her hair, after he’d set her down, though he’d come nowhere near to mussing her upswept roll. “You certainly seem to be in high spirits this afternoon.”
“Sorry about the PDA.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Public display of affection.”
She smiled. “I think I like that acronym.”
“Want another?”
She laughed and took his arm. “And here I thought you’d be growling after having been forced to spend time with my dogs.”
“They aren’t so bad.”
“Not when someone else is looking after them, you mean.”
He grinned. “I should have known you’d check up on me.”
“Yes, you should have.”
They followed the other passengers through a door into a narrow reception area. At one end, a short luggage carousel belt began a rumbling turn through the room and out again.
“I remember when they used to set our luggage on a bicycle rack near that same spot.” Geneva smiled. “This is one more improvement Carnelian Cove can boast of.”
“You love it here,” he said.
“I have since I first saw this place.” She searched his face. “You love it, too. Even though you’re always in a hurry to leave.”
“Yeah.” He glanced at the wall behind her—a mural of a fanciful Victorian farmhouse tucked beneath a redwood grove, dark ocean cliffs and white foamy waves in the background. “It’s a special place.”
“So it’s not the place you’re escaping. It’s the people.”
“Is that one of your bags?” At her nod, he squeezed past the small knot of passengers to lift it from the belt, glad he’d had an excuse to avoid answering her question. How could he make her understand he’d been escaping himself, too? Escaping his inability to earn his father’s notice, escaping his forbidden attraction to Addie.
A matching case soon appeared, and he collected that, too. “Is this all?” he asked.
“Yes.” She handed him her tote, and he stacked it on a case and looped the strap around the handle. “I also shipped a few things home,” she said.
“I knew there’d be more.” He gently nudged her with his elbow. “I know how much you like to shop.”
“You seem to enjoy the things I buy for you.”
“Not complaining,” he said with a grin, “just saying.”
He led the way to her car, which he’d parked near the exit, and opened her door before loading her things in the trunk.
“I heard you’ve developed an interest in stained glass,” Geneva said after he’d pulled out on the highway.
“Should have kept that interest strictly academic.” He shook his head. “I am, according to Rosie, a ‘total loser’ at the craft.”
“Does Addie share her opinion?”
“I’m sure she does. But she’s too smart to tell a prospective client that he has no business handling the stuff.”
“You seem to admire her a great deal,” Geneva said.
“Addie?”
“You know very well who we were discussing.”
“You were discussing her.” Dev struggled to keep a grin off his face. It wasn’t often he got the upper hand in a battle of wits with his grandmother. “I was talking about craft classes.”
Geneva’s eyes narrowed as she stared at him, and he could practically hear the wheels turning in her devious mind. He knew he’d soften and tell her what she wanted to hear. In part, because his grandmother had given him one of the many shoves he’d needed to get him to this place: madly, passionately, completely in love with a woman who’d always been here, in his true home, waiting for him as he traveled the world looking for her.
“Okay, then,” he said at last. “We can talk about Addie. I’ll start by pointing out that the last thing you said to me before you left—after all your fussing about walking your dogs, and collecting the newspapers and keeping the kitchen clean—was that you wanted me to realize I’m not seventeen anymore.”
He gave his grandmother a smile filled with everything that was in his heart. “I’m happy to report that I followed all your instructions. To the letter.”
“I’m happy to hear it. And Addie?”
“Is my date to the anniversary dance at The Breakers tomorrow night.”
“Well.” Geneva relaxed against her seat, her posture declaring mission accomplished. “That PDA was a nice welcome home. But this news is even better.”
She rested a hand on his arm, a personal display of affection. “Welcome home to you, too, Dev.”
LOCKING HER SHOP DOOR shortly after closing on Friday night, Addie fumbled as she tried to pull her ringing cell phone from her purse. “Yes?”
“Charlie’s here,” Tess said. “Are you on your way?”
“As soon as I get off this phone and into my truck.”
“Relax. We’ve got everything under control.”
Which is why Addie had called her friends in a panic that morning. She needed a dress—heck, she needed everything. Shoes, jewelry, a handbag, perfume, makeup. A makeover, she thought as she climbed into her truck and caught a glimpse of her reflection in her rearview mirror.
She took another minute to stare. The bags beneath her eyes couldn’t disguise their cat-that-got-the-cream shine. Tess and Charlie would take one look at her face and know exactly what had happened the night before.
No way, Addie laughed as she backed out of her alley parking space, giddy with the memories of what she’d shared with Dev throughout the night. Her friends had great imaginations, but they’d never come close. Addie’s own fantasies hadn’t come close.
She drove east, toward the newer subdivisions along the river. An evening breeze ruffled the delicate foliage of the redwoods hanging over the winding road, and the charcoal scent of a backyard barbecue drifted through her open window.
At this time tomorrow night, she’d be out on a date with Dev Chandler. At The Breakers Golf and Country Club.
“I don’t believe it,” she said and laughed out loud. It was like prom, for adults. Competitive dressing, intense scrutiny of every detail. She’d need to make an appointment for a pedicure—and then find the time to keep it.
Tess opened her front door before Addie had a chance to lift the silly tortoise-shaped knocker. “We’ve already decided what you should wear,” she said as she yanked Addie inside. “All we need from you is your official okay.”
Her friend’s announcement didn’t do anything to lower Addie’s stress level. “I don’t have a say in this?” she asked as Tess dragged her down the hall to her bright blue bedroom.
“About the dress?” Tess paused in the doorway. “Or about how you’re going to pay us back?”
Addie frowned as she moved past Tess and entered the room. “I asked if I could borrow a dress. I didn’t ask you to…oh.” She staggered to a stop and stared at the cloudlike dream of a dress spread over Tess’s quilted spread. “Oh, my.”
“Isn’t it perfect?” Charlie ran a hand along the frothy hem. Thin, sparkling straps supported a silver-beaded bodice cinched with a softly pleated chiffon sash. A floaty skirt of the same whispery fabric fell in darker, ruffling layers like curling smoke.
Addie shook her head. “I can’t possibly afford this.”
“We can,” Charlie said.
“But I can’t pay you back.”
“That’s what you think.” Tess lifted the dress and held it against Addie. “Gorgeous. I knew it would be. Perfect for the club and for the occasion. Perfect with your coloring.”
“It is perfect. Thank you. Oh, I love it.” Addie spread he
r hands over her midsection to hold the fabulous outift against her faded cotton camp shirt. “But a true friend wouldn’t take advantage of my desperation.”
“Girlfriend, you don’t know what true desperation is.” Tess held one of the sparkly straps against Addie’s shoulder, her head cocked to one side. “You owe me one slumber-party overnight chaperoning Rosie and the friend of her choice.”
Addie caught a glimpse of her reflection in Tess’s mirror. “Deal.”
“I’m thinking we’ll do your eyes in smudgy grey, make them look even bigger than they are.” Tess spread the dress over her bed again and pulled a handful of brushes and tubes from a quilted satin sack. “Glossy lips. Mauve, maybe. Something translucent on your nails.”
Addie shoved her hands behind her back. “Not my hands.”
“You’ve got to have a manicure. And a pedicure,” Tess added, glancing at Addie’s toes. “You’ll need some strappy shoes, too. Heels would be best, but you don’t want to break an ankle dancing.”
“I don’t have any strappy shoes.”
“That’s tomorrow’s chore. Along with the appointment at the salon.”
Addie turned to the one woman she knew would understand. “Charlie.”
“Don’t ask me for help,” Charlie warned. “She’s already scheduled a torture session for me before my wedding.”
“And what do I owe you for your share in this?” Addie asked Charlie.
“I’ll think of something.”
“I can’t agree to those terms.” Addie ran a finger along one of the ripply chiffon layers. “But this dress…”
“Try it on.” Tess passed it to Addie. “I want to see it on you. All that blond hair tumbling down in the back—”
“I thought you said she’d have to wear it up.” Charlie frowned. “I thought you said—”
“I said a lot of things. I’m allowed to change my mind. First, the dress.” Tess’s lips curled up in one of her witchy smiles. “Then we’ll argue about the rest.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
A Small-Town Reunion Page 16