Not that the day had been without its bittersweet moments. A snowbird, who apparently hadn’t been in town at the time of Don’s death, inadvertently caused a moment of painful silence when she’d asked after him. Helen had stepped in and quietly saved the day, explaining that he’d died, but not the circumstances. The woman’s genuinely heartfelt condolences had more than made up for her blunder.
In fact, it was Helen’s reassuring presence, along with Jolie’s and Sylvia’s, that had made the day bearable. They’d stayed so long, nursing first coffee, then iced tea, then sodas, it was a wonder they weren’t floating. After sending Jeff on his way and locking the front door, Rosa sank down at their table with her own glass of tea.
“You did great,” Helen said.
“Better than I would have,” Sylvia added.
Rosa gave her a grateful look. “Only thanks to you. If you hadn’t made me go to that meeting at Saint Luke’s, I’m not sure I would have been brave enough to come here today.”
“Tomorrow will be easier,” Jolie promised her. “I’ll never forget the first time I had to face everybody after my divorce.” She grinned at Sylvia. “It was the annual Fourth of July barbecue at your house, remember?”
“I remember,” Helen said. “Rosa and I had to come by and drag you over there. You said you were going to be a fifth wheel, that you didn’t want to be around all those couples. And then Mick Henderson came on to you in the first ten minutes and everything was just fine.”
Jolie blushed. “Okay, so I needed to get my confidence back. Getting dumped doesn’t do much for a woman’s self-esteem.”
“And Mick Henderson does?” Rosa teased. “The man chases any female with a pulse.”
“But that day, he chose me,” Jolie retorted, then lowered her voice and confided, “I let him kiss me.”
Rosa glanced at Sylvia and Helen, then all three of them started laughing.
“What?” Jolie demanded.
“Did you actually think that was a secret?” Helen asked.
“Well, of course,” Jolie began indignantly, then faltered. “It wasn’t?”
“The only thing Mick enjoys more than flirting is talking about it,” Sylvia told her. “We knew, and frankly, we couldn’t have been happier. It proved you were ready to start living again.”
Rosa frowned at them. “Don’t get any bright ideas about trying to prove the same thing with me.” She glanced at Jolie. “Unless, of course, Mick is a better kisser than I imagined.”
“He thinks it’s his civic duty to console widows and divorcées, so he’s had a lot of practice,” Jolie said. “Draw your own conclusions.”
Rosa shuddered. She wasn’t ready to consider kissing another man, not even to prove to herself that she was still alive. “I think I’ll pass, anyway,” she told her friends. “It’s going to be a very long time before I even look at someone new.” Her eyes filled with tears. “The only man I ever wanted was Don. I thought I was the only woman he wanted, too.”
“You were,” Helen said fiercely. “You have absolutely no evidence to the contrary, so stop making yourself crazy.”
“And even if—” Jolie began, only to have Helen cut her off with a sharp look.
“Even if nothing,” Helen said emphatically. “Don Killian was faithful.”
Rosa thought about Emma’s revelation that she was investigating what had made Don feel desperate enough to kill himself. There was no telling what she’d turn up.
“Emma’s trying to find out why her father died,” she told the others. “I’m not sure if I want to know. It seems so pointless now. He’s dead, so what does it matter why he died?”
“For one thing, it might end all this wild speculation you’re engaging in,” Helen said. “I think she should try to find the answers. It’s always better to know the truth.”
“Always?” Rosa asked doubtfully.
Jolie nodded slowly. “Always. I didn’t want to know that my husband was cheating on me. Outwardly I ignored all the signs, but inwardly I tortured myself with doubts every single night he didn’t come home from work on time. Maybe if I’d faced facts sooner and forced the issue, we could have worked things out. Instead, I suffered in silence, getting more and more resentful every day. That gave him just the excuse he needed to turn to other women, and pretty soon he wasn’t home at all anymore. We hadn’t had a real marriage for at least two years before he finally walked out for good.”
She clasped Rosa’s hand. “So, yes, I think it’s better to know. You can deal with the truth. You can’t fight shadows.”
But sometimes, Rosa thought, shadows were the only thing left to protect the heart from breaking.
For the first time in weeks, Emma felt hopeful that her family was going to be okay. Her mother had come back to Flamingo Diner and even Jeff had pitched in. He’d looked resentful as he’d taken over from Andy at the grill, but he’d done it without complaint. That was something, anyway. She’d even seen him smile a time or two at Andy’s determined attempts to joke with him. Andy was such a sweetheart, how could anyone resist him? She’d noticed Lauren Patterson paying a lot more attention to him lately, too.
If things really were turning around for everyone here, then it wouldn’t be long before she could start thinking about going back to Washington. She glanced at Matt and felt a momentary twinge of sorrow that she would be leaving him behind.
The pull between them had grown stronger day by day, more powerful than any attraction she’d ever felt for another man. And she was going to leave without ever knowing what it would be like to spend a night in his arms. Suddenly that seemed wrong, as if she were cheating them both of an experience that might be life altering.
It wasn’t as if she were after a quick, experimental roll in the hay. This was Matt. She’d cared about him forever and he about her.
That was the justification. There were just as many persuasive arguments in favor of maintaining the status quo. She’d been over those countless times, in her head and aloud to him. Now, though, none of that seemed to matter.
Matt was pulling into a parking place in front of Jennifer Sawyer’s office building, when she finally spoke.
“Matt, don’t park,” she said.
He turned to stare at her. “What? I thought you were anxious to see Jennifer and find out what she knows.”
“Not today,” she said, reaching her decision. “I have something more important to do.” Her gaze locked with his. “If you have the time.”
He swallowed hard. “Time? For what?” he asked, his voice choked and a hint of uncertainty in his eyes, as if he were afraid to read too much into her words.
“To take me to your place,” she said, her own heart in her throat. She hadn’t once considered the possibility that he might turn her down, that he might want to protect his heart more than he wanted to make love with her.
“I think you’d better spell it out for me,” he said. “What exactly are you suggesting?”
“I want you to make love to me,” she said bluntly.
There was the faintest tremble in his hands before he clutched the steering wheel more tightly. “I see. Any particular reason you decided you want that here and now?”
“I’m not sure I can explain it.”
“Try,” he said, his tone urgent. “I want to be sure you know what you really want.”
“Okay,” she said and searched for the right words. “Mama came back to work today. Her life is getting back on track. Jeff’s at least trying to do the right thing, for today, anyway. Andy’s getting ready for his senior year. He’s even got a girlfriend. And once you and I go inside that building and talk to Jennifer, we may finally have the answers I’ve been searching for about why my father died.”
Matt nodded. “I’m with you so far, but what does that have to do with you and me?”
“I just realized that everything’s starting to settle down and soon, there won’t be any reason for me to stay here. I can go back to Washington and pick up the pieces of
my life.”
He frowned at that. “So what? You want to have a little fling with the local cop so you’ll have something to remember when you’re back in D.C.?” he asked, his voice heating up.
Emma stared at him in shock. “No, absolutely not,” she said, reaching out to grasp his arm. She felt the muscle clench and knew she’d gone about this all wrong. She’d picked the wrong time, the wrong place, everything. “Oh, Matt, please don’t think that.”
“Then what should I think?” he asked, his expression stony.
“That my feelings for you have grown over the past few weeks, much more than I ever anticipated. I don’t want to leave here with any regrets. I want to give us a chance, a real chance.”
“And then, what? You’ll leave anyway?”
Emma faltered. “I…I don’t know exactly.”
He pulled back out of the parking space, still not looking at her. She had no idea if he was going to his place or not. She held her breath until they turned onto his street, then pulled into his driveway and he cut the engine.
He did face her then. “Emma, I have been in love with you for more years than I can remember,” he said, not sounding especially happy about it. “It started as a boy’s infatuation with a girl who was way too young for anything serious. I tried to get over it during the years we were separated, but I couldn’t. Now you’re here and nothing has changed for me. I still love you. I still want you. Every sensible brain cell in my head tells me I should turn you down flat and send you back to Washington without touching you.”
He met her gaze. “But I can’t. So if you don’t really want this, Emma, now’s the time to back down, right here, in the driveway while I can still take you home.”
She was shaken by the powerful emotion behind his words, shaken by the awareness that what was about to happen was something huge for him, while for her it was filled with uncertainty. She had never expected to be loved like that. She’d wanted it, yes. How could any daughter of Don and Rosa Killian, who’d grown up surrounded by so much powerful passion, not want it for herself? To realize she could reach out and grab it for herself made her heart beat wildly.
She met Matt’s gaze with an unwavering look. “Take me inside,” she said in a steady voice that belied the racing of her pulse.
“If we do this, I will fight to keep you here,” Matt warned. “I’ll pull out all the stops to persuade you that this is where you belong. I won’t let you walk away and leave me without doing everything in my power to make you stay.”
For one tiny instant, Emma hesitated, then smiled at him. “You know how much I enjoy a good battle.”
“Even knowing you’re destined to lose this one?” he asked, his lips finally softening with the faint beginnings of a smile.
“Awfully sure of yourself, aren’t you?”
“Awfully sure of us,” he countered with confidence, his smile spreading.
To Emma’s amazement, despite all the inevitable drawbacks to having a relationship with a man whose ties to Winter Cove ran deep, she was almost beginning to share his faith. The reaction was both scary and exhilarating.
16
Matt understood the risk he was taking as he poured a beer for himself and a glass of red wine for Emma. He knew that he wanted forever, and Emma wanted this one afternoon, but he thought, in time, he could convince her to stay here with him. And if he failed, at least he would have memories—real memories this time—to last a lifetime. Maybe it was pathetic to be willing to settle for so little, but it wasn’t as if he had a choice. Going or staying would be her decision. He could only do whatever he could to influence it.
He handed Emma the glass and looked deep into her eyes. “To us, Emma.”
“To us,” she said without hesitation. “And to wherever today takes us.”
Matt smiled, oddly relieved. “An open mind. I like that. Of course, I like almost everything about you, other than your stubborn determination to live nearly a thousand miles away. Then again, this afternoon is all about working on that.”
“Really? I thought it was about sex,” she taunted.
“Thus the persuasive element,” he retorted.
She carefully set her glass down on the kitchen table. “Then I guess you ought to come here and kiss me.”
“You sure about that?” he asked, watching her expression for signs of doubt.
“How many outs are you planning to give me, Matt?”
“As many as it takes to make certain this is what you want. I don’t want this afternoon to be tainted by regrets or blame.”
“I didn’t come here lightly. I knew exactly what I was doing,” she told him, her gaze unwavering. “Something’s happening between us. It’s foolish to deny it.” She touched his cheek, let her hand linger. “I just don’t want you to be hurt, if it can’t be something more than this.”
Hurt? He would ache like hell when the time came for her to go, but if it was the price to be paid for here and now…
“In that case…” He tossed his still-full beer can in the general direction of the sink. “I guess you’ve answered my question,” he said, pulling her into his arms and covering her mouth with his.
It was a no-holds-barred kiss, the kind he’d been having dreams about for what seemed like a million years. And it lived up to all his expectations as it turned greedy and demanding with Emma melting in his arms, her body pliant, her tongue wicked, her mouth hot. It wasn’t just about sex. Never that with Emma. It was about exploring and discovering a whole new facet of her, about staking his claim so that she could never forget him, no matter how hard she tried.
Matt could have taken her then and there, on the kitchen table, without a second thought, but this was Emma. She deserved romance and foreplay and finesse.
But as she ground her hips against his arousal, he realized that what she deserved and what she wanted were two entirely different things. He figured he could accommodate both with a slight adjustment to his own plans. Thank God for the condom he’d stuck in his wallet the day after she’d hit town, when he’d known—okay, hoped—that this moment would eventually come.
“Make me feel, Matt,” she pleaded, shoving his T-shirt up until it was half-bunched around his armpits and her hands were sliding restlessly over his bare chest.
He stripped the shirt over his head before she accidentally choked him with it, then took his own sweet time about removing hers, letting his knuckles graze bare skin as heat rose in her eyes.
“Is this what you want?” he teased, his fingers skimming lightly over the tips of her breasts, making the dark nipples peak against the delicate peach lace of her bra.
“More,” she murmured, her head thrown back.
“This?” he asked, kissing a trail down the side of her neck, then closing his mouth over her breast and sucking hard.
“Oh, yes.”
“I can make it better,” he said, easing off the bra. He skimmed his tongue over the sensitive peak, even as he undid the snap on her jeans and worked his hand inside her panties to skim through moist heat to find the already tight, sensitive bead of her arousal. With no more than a stroke, he had her crying out and shuddering in his arms.
Even as the tremors faded, he opened his own jeans, slid on his condom and entered her hard and fast, taking her breath away, and sending her off into another orgasm that had her writhing against him.
Thoroughly aroused by her abandon and responsiveness, he managed to hold on to his own control by a thread, his gaze locked with hers. Only when he saw her slowly falling back to earth did he begin to move again, taking his time, tormenting them both with the sweet agony of waiting between strokes, until she was pleading with him and his own body was hot and on the verge of exploding.
“Look at me,” he commanded, waiting until her eyes were open and filled with passion before he thrust hard and deep, once, twice and then again, sending them both into a shuddering release that shattered any hope he’d ever had of forgetting Emma. A man could forget a lot of things,
a lot of women, but not a woman who had taken him to a place he’d never been before.
“You’re mine,” he whispered against her cheek. “Mine.”
A sigh eased through her. “I know.”
A tension Matt hadn’t even known he was feeling eased then. “Maybe we should go into the bedroom,” he suggested.
“Why, when this was so incredible?” she asked, a twinkle in her eyes and a dare in her voice.
“Because sooner or later you’re going to realize that this table is hard and that the neighbors can see in the kitchen windows,” he said. “Besides, I have big plans for the rest of the afternoon and I don’t intend to share them with the rest of the world.”
“Big plans, huh?”
“Very big plans,” he confirmed.
She reached for him, skimmed a finger along the length of his arousal. “Yes, I can see that.”
“Umm, Emma,” he said. “You might not want to do that just now.”
“Oh?”
“It’s going to make it that much more difficult to get to the bedroom.”
She regarded him with a wicked glint in her eyes. “Maybe we don’t need to go just yet,” she said, her hand tightening around him.
Matt gasped. “Maybe not,” he said, then buried himself inside her one more time.
Emma stretched languorously and tried to recall exactly why she’d ever hesitated about letting Matt make love to her. Heaven knew, he was good at it. She’d never felt like this before in her life, as if her entire body were humming. There had been men who could make her feel like a woman, but none had made her feel like the decadent, passionate woman who’d come apart in Matt’s arms time and again through the afternoon and on into the night.
Was that because he knew her so well? Or simply because he was the kind of man who paid attention to a woman’s needs and knew how to fulfill them before taking his own pleasure? Was it genuine intimacy or merely skill? The latter was something she could deal with. Real intimacy, born of years of friendship, scared her to death.
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