by Gina Wilkins
His face buried in the curve of her throat, he nibbled, nipped and teased at her skin while sliding his fingers very slowly up her inner thigh. He kissed the upper curve of breast visible above the deep scoop of her top, which made her even more anxious to get all of their clothes out of the way. Her hands felt suddenly clumsy when she tugged off his shirt, wriggled out of her skirt, reached for the hem of her shirt and the button of his jeans, trying to do everything at once. Chuckling hoarsely, he helped her, tossing discarded garments haphazardly to the floor.
With the clothes out of the way, they slowed down, taking time to explore and savor. The steady rain against the window and the frequent rumble of thunder played a sultry soundtrack for their murmurs and moans, gasps and husky laughs. The lightning strobed through the room, revealing glittering eyes and glistening skin.
He pushed her to the edge of coherence with his skilled lips and fingers. He left no inch of her untouched, unappreciated. She took great satisfaction in knowing that she drove him to that same edge when she slid her palm down his flat abdomen and wrapped her hand around him. He inhaled sharply, then rolled to pin her beneath him, his mouth covering hers in a deep, thorough kiss.
Protection was dealt with swiftly, impatiently, and then he returned to her. She wrapped herself around him in welcome, her smaller form fitting quite nicely to his. And when finally he thrust into her, neither of them able to wait any longer, she was thrilled to note that their bodies meshed perfectly together. It was the last clear thought she had before waves of sheer sensation swept her to the peak of arousal and then threw her into the mindless turmoil of climax.
The storm outside had passed and the darkness in the room was due to the hour rather than the clouds by the time she trusted herself to speak with a semblance of lucidity. She didn’t look at the clock, but she knew it was getting late, not that she cared.
She could tell by the way he sprawled loose-limbed beside her that Paul was as completely and contentedly sated as she. Nestling her cheek against his damp shoulder, she brushed a light kiss on his skin. “Are you awake?”
“I’m not entirely sure,” he said, a smile in his voice. “I can’t feel my feet yet.”
She laughed softly. “I know what you mean. I think my knees have turned to jelly.”
He pressed a kiss on top of her head. “Can you see the clock?”
“Probably, but I’m not in the mood to look at the moment. Are you in a hurry to leave?”
He tightened his arm around her. “Hell, no.”
She raised her head to look at him. With the power back on, the security light outside the small, high bedroom window on the west wall cast a pale glow through the room, so that his face was shadowed, but clearly visible. His teeth gleamed with his smile and his eyes glittered as they met hers. “Hi.”
She giggled. “Hi.”
“Have I mentioned what a great time I’ve had today?”
“Me, too. You know, considering—”
He nodded to acknowledge her allusion to the motorcycle accident, but again didn’t linger on the subject. “Think your sister knows I’m still down here?”
Bonnie wrinkled her nose in resignation. “Oh, I’m sure she does.”
And her sister would rib her tomorrow, she added silently, prepared for the good-natured grilling. She supposed it was only fair, since she’d teased Kinley a bit during her whirlwind romance with Dan. Not that she was calling this a romance just yet, she reminded herself quickly. She had promised Paul there would be no strings, no regrets. That assurance had been meant for both of them. She was still very much taking a wait and see attitude about this developing connection. Waiting to see just what he had in mind after this magical night ended. Waiting to see if she was prepared to trust him to stick around if she let herself depend on him to be there.
“Do you mind about that?”
She brought her mind back to the topic. “Do I mind that my sister knows I have a life outside the inn and the family—or at least I try to, occasionally? No.”
“Does she spend the night at the inn often?”
“Not very. When Dan’s out of town, she stays fairly often to eat an early dinner with Logan and me and then heads home afterward. If we have an early event the next day, she’ll sometimes stay over in the bedroom you changed in earlier. If anyone upstairs needs me at any time during the night, every guest has my number or there’s an emergency alarm.”
“So you’re on call 24/7.”
“Pretty much. That’s why I don’t feel at all guilty about having Kinley and Dan keeping an eye on everything upstairs tonight. We’ve got a crazy busy schedule for the next couple of months, through the end of September at least, and time off is going to be scarce until then for all of us.”
She was letting him know, subtly, that this long, lazy afternoon had been a bit of an aberration. Not that he’d said anything about repeating it, but she figured she should warn him anyway. She could definitely make time for a dinner out, maybe a movie, maybe a few more nice evenings here, she thought with a ripple of secret anticipation, but entire afternoons could be tough to clear for the next couple of months.
He seemed to get the message. “So are you ever going to take a real vacation? More than a few free hours when you can grab them?”
“I’ve been thinking about it. Kinley and I have discussed maybe closing for a week or so during off-season after Christmas—late January, perhaps—and taking vacations. She’d go somewhere with Dan, of course.”
“And you?”
“A couple of my friends from college have talked about getting together and taking a girls’ cruise. I have to admit that’s tempting.”
“I see.”
She couldn’t quite interpret his tone, and his expression was hard to read. Maybe because of the dim light. “What about you?” she asked lightly. “Are you planning a vacation before school starts again?”
“Not this summer. Cassie and I have made a tradition of going to a beach for a week or ten days during summer vacations, but what with the wedding and all, there really hasn’t been a chance this year. I won’t have time to get away after the wedding, so I’m just enjoying a ‘staycation’ this summer. I’ve had a few teaching-related obligations, but for the most part I’ve had time to recharge and hang out with friends, which always makes it easier to face a new school year in the fall.”
“When does your school start again?”
“I have to report back the last week of August. The students return the following week.”
“We haven’t talked much about your job,” she realized aloud, propping her chin on his chest. “Do you like teaching?”
“Most of the time, yes. I teach calculus and advanced algebra, so I have mostly juniors and seniors who are on the college-bound path. A few of them even want to be there most days,” he added with a wry chuckle.
“I bet you’re their favorite teacher.”
He laughed. “They like me well enough, but that honor generally goes to Ms. Lancaster, the speech and drama teacher. Let’s just say she’s attractive. And a genuinely nice person to boot. A natural-born teacher.”
Despite his modesty, she suspected that Paul, with his warmth and humor and infectious smile, was high on the list of student favorites. She pushed her tousled hair out of her face before asking, “Did you always want to teach?”
He shrugged beneath her and reached out almost absently to twist a lock of her hair around his forefinger. He seemed to like doing that. “I always had an affinity for math. And teaching was a career that ensured me free time to spend with my daughter. It’s worked out well for us.”
Even though every inch of her body felt warm and soft from their lovemaking, she still thrilled a little when his hand brushed her breast as he played with her hair. She forced herself to focus on the conversation. “Do you have any plans beyon
d teaching high school? Moving into administration, maybe, or teaching at a college level?”
He gave a short laugh. “I’ve actually considered moving to China to teach. Or maybe North Dakota. Plan C is to be a beach bum in the Florida Keys.”
Perhaps he’d thought she would laugh, too, at that latter improbable scenario. She tried, but wasn’t quite successful. “You’re moving away?”
The extent of her dismay at the possibility told her she hadn’t been quite as successful as she’d thought in keeping her feelings for him under control. Had she really begun to hope that he would stick around, that maybe he wasn’t looking forward to the freedom of his empty nest as much as he’d implied?
His shrug this time was more of an uncomfortable squirm. “Not anytime soon. I have a contract to teach for another year here. I’ve just been thinking about all the options ahead for me now that I won’t be responsible for anyone but myself for the first time since—well, since longer than I can remember.”
She wasn’t oblivious to the fact that settling down and having more children had not been one of the options he’d listed. He really did see her as just a summer fling, she thought with a hard swallow. It was a good thing she knew that for certain now, just in case she’d secretly started hoping for more.
She had options of her own, she reminded herself, though perhaps hers were a bit more limited considering the hours she spent working. But that was her choice, and she didn’t regret it, even though most of the men she met were either grooms-to-be or honeymooners. With an occasional sexy, contentedly single father-of-the-bride thrown in, she thought with a light sigh.
She rolled and reached for the robe she usually kept at the foot of the bed, finding it on the floor instead. It would take her a few minutes to put the tangled bedclothes back in order, she thought with a somewhat sheepish smile.
“Where are you going?”
Balancing on still slightly unsteady legs, she wrapped the robe around herself and loosely tied the sash. “The bathroom, and then to the kitchen for water. I’m thirsty.”
He pushed a hand through his hair, and she could see resigned acceptance on his face that the evening was drawing to an end. “I guess I’d better head home soon. I know you’ll have an early start tomorrow.”
She didn’t try to detain him this time. “I’ll bring your clothes. Maybe they dried enough before the power went out for you to wear them home.”
“I’m sure they’ll be fine.”
Suddenly needing to be busy, she turned on one heel and moved a little too quickly away from the rumpled bed.
Paul left not long afterward. His clothes were still damp, but he assured her they were fine for the short drive home. His boots squished a bit when he shoved his feet in them, but he merely shrugged and said he’d set them out to dry when he got home. It was still raining, but very lightly now.
Still wearing her robe, she stood by the door to see him off. “Be careful driving down the mountain on these wet roads,” she said automatically. Compared to the steep grades they’d been on earlier, Bride Mountain was little more than a tall hill, but still the road could be slick when wet.
“Yes, I will.” One hand on the doorknob, he paused. “About the farmers’ market tomorrow morning…”
“I’ll be at the main entrance at just before eight, waiting for any class members who can be there. So far, I’ve heard from two who said they could make it, Nora and Jennifer.”
She saw what might have been the faintest wince from him when she said the latter name, though she couldn’t be sure. “I’m afraid I can’t join you. I have a meeting at school district HQ in the morning. But I’ll be in class tomorrow evening.”
Her first reaction was disappointment that she wouldn’t see him there, but then she decided maybe it was best. That would give her a few hours to prepare herself to greet him in front of the others. “I’ll see you at six, then.”
“I’ll be on time,” he promised, and leaned over to kiss her lingeringly.
She cleared her husky throat when he finally drew back. “Good night, Paul.”
He winked at her and let himself out. Only after she’d locked up behind him did Bonnie realize that neither of them had said anything about getting together again outside the class.
Paul told himself he understood completely why Bonnie wouldn’t want to give any hint to the class that anything had happened between the two of them since last week. She was professional to the core when she stood in front of her group Tuesday evening. Her teaching manner was warm, casual, encouraging, and she treated each participant the same, whether they were experienced in the kitchen or total novices. Or had been in her bed only hours before, he thought, receiving another sweetly impersonal smile that included him in with all the other class members.
“Now that we’ve practiced safe knife skills and had a little break, let’s get to cooking,” she said as they stood shoulder to shoulder at the long prep bar in the center of the kitchen, three to a side, Bonnie at one end. “Everyone put on your apron and pick up your Santoku knife.”
“Paul looks awfully cute in his apron,” Nora said with a giggle. “Maybe he could help you demonstrate again and the rest of us could just watch and admire.”
“As cute as he is, I want you all to leave the class with a few new skills,” Bonnie said easily, barely glancing at Paul as she spoke. “Everyone ready to carefully chop and dice?”
Yeah, Bonnie was doing a great job of hiding any personal feelings she might have for him, Paul thought, roughly tying his apron strings behind his back. Someone who didn’t know better might think they hardly knew each other at all. Just a teacher and a student who was no more special to her than any of the others in the small class. Wasn’t it just great how damned good she was at pretending she didn’t give two flips about him?
Suddenly aware that he was scowling, he smoothed his expression immediately, hoping if anyone had noticed they would attribute it to him trying to memorize the cooking instructions. She talked enthusiastically about bok choy and shiitake mushrooms, about cherry tomatoes and zucchini and radishes and cucumbers and whatever else she’d procured from the market that morning, and he tried very hard to pay attention. But how was he supposed to care about fruits and vegetables when Bonnie stood there looking so fresh and pretty in her colorful skirt and red apron, her golden hair pinned tidily back from her face? When she waved a hand in the air to emphasize a point and all he could think about was how softly those fingers had caressed him last night? When she lifted a spoon to her lips to taste a broth, and he could only remember the sweet, spicy taste of her?
Maybe this class hadn’t been such a clever idea on his part, after all.
“Don’t you agree, Paul?”
The sound of his name made him blink. “Um, what?”
Jennifer leaned close to him, speaking quietly into his ear while Bonnie continued with the demonstration. “I said, doesn’t this food look delicious? Bonnie is really a talented chef. I’m not sure why she’s content to spend her whole life here in western Virginia when she could be making a name for herself in New York or Boston or even California.”
“Bonnie loves it here. The inn has been in her family for several generations. She told my daughter that she has wanted to run this inn ever since she was a little girl visiting here with her mother and brother and sister.”
“Hmm. Well, I was born and grew up within fifteen miles of here, got married right out of high school and divorced last year. I’m about ready to see something besides backwoods and mountains.”
“Shh,” Nora murmured chidingly to Jennifer. “I’m trying to hear how long to broil the bok choy.”
“It will all be in the handouts,” Jennifer said with a shrug, though she turned again to pay attention to the instructions.
Paul certainly hoped so. Not because Jennifer had distracted him from
the lesson, but because his own convoluted emotions had.
The class ended with everyone filling small plates of the dishes they had prepared. While they sampled, Bonnie answered questions and chatted easily.
“In our final class next week, we’ll talk about produce you can buy in winter, and how to preserve summer goodies to enjoy all year,” she promised them. “And I’ll be at the market that morning at eight.”
“These grilled peaches could be the best thing I’ve ever put in my mouth,” Lydia enthused, her eyelids half-closed in ecstasy. “I’ve got to try making them.”
“Thank you,” Bonnie said. “I love them, myself.”
“Bonnie, we must put these on the menu for the anniversary party for my parents,” Nora insisted. She glanced at Paul as she explained, “My parents are celebrating their fortieth anniversary next month and my sister and I are hosting an intimate reception for them here at the inn on a Sunday afternoon. Only thirty of their closest friends. I’ve asked Bonnie to handle the catering, which she’s graciously agreed to do.”
Paul remembered that Bonnie had said she would be very busy for the next couple of months with bookings that apparently included Nora’s party, not to mention his daughter’s wedding events. He guessed he’d never realized quite how much work went on behind the scenes of a busy bed-and-breakfast that also catered to outside events, and even provided occasional cooking classes. He thought of Nora’s joking comment last week that the Carmichael siblings were married to the inn. Seemed true enough, considering Kinley was the only one involved in a serious relationship, and that with a man who traveled quite a bit.
It was rather ironic that just as he found himself with lots of options and quite a bit of free time ahead after his daughter’s wedding and the Bauer family’s move, he had become involved with a woman with almost overwhelming commitments to this particular place. True, they were both trying to keep their connection informal—as she had said, “no strings, no regrets,” exactly the way he wanted things between them—but even as he stood in her kitchen with her and the five other members of the class, all he could think about was when he could next manage to be alone with her.