Dreams Don't Wait (Contemporary romance)

by EC Sheedy

  "I need you to..."

  He looked into her eyes, his hand unmoving where she held it in hers. Evan was surprised at what she saw in his face. Disappointment? Resignation?

  "Take off your clothes," she said. "I can't manage it right now. And—"

  "And?" His smile came back instantly.

  "Don't take too long." She moved his hand back to its starting point and opened her legs.

  He didn't.

  Skin on skin, they entwined on a long, satisfying shudder, coming together perfectly and completely. For a moment, passion ebbed and they lost themselves in each other's heat and curves, the fit of their bodies.

  "You feel so good." He buried his head in the hollow at her throat. "I could hold you forever."

  He lay between her legs, his erection pulsing against her. She put her hand between them to stroke him. His entire body quaked, heaved.

  He swore softly, before he turned his mouth to her ear, giving her earlobe a nip. "Witch," he growled, lifting his head. When she took him fully in her hand, encircled him and squeezed, he closed his eyes. When he opened them, she was studying him.

  "You like that, don't you? Watching me squirm?" But he didn't seem to mind.

  She ran her hands over his firm buttocks, his back; couldn't stop looking at him. "I like watching you—period," she said. Enraptured. That's what I am. Enraptured.

  Linc tangled his fingers in her hair and drew her face to his. The kiss was deep, probing, and deliciously thorough, his tongue keeping a sensual, seductive rhythm. The threshold of pleasure/pain reached, every part of her body yearned for his.

  "Please," she whispered. "Now."

  He nestled his hand intimately in the soft curls at the juncture of her thighs. She heard her own cry as he readied her, loved her, felt the heat and moisture pool to ease his way. She twisted, writhed against the motion of his hand until the friction was unbearable.

  After he'd protected them, Evan pulled him back to the cradle of her thighs and he entered her, slowly. Exquisitely.

  Linc closed his eyes, strained for control. It didn't work. Nothing worked. When Evan dug her nails into his back, when her breath gusted hot over his neck, a wildness came, and he plunged deep—again and again—each stroke more powerful than the last, with Evan lifting to him, taking him. All of him. Buried in her, he heard himself curse—or was it pray?—for restraint. He didn't know. But it worked.

  He held back, swallowed Evan's breathy moans until her final cry, until the tremors of her body told him what he needed to hear.

  His own release was seconds later.

  Chapter 9

  "It's midnight. You'd better go. Maud might... and I wouldn't want her to think... Oh, you know what I mean." Evan's words trailed off into an indecipherable mumble when she buried her face near his shoulder.

  "I do," Linc said, kissing her hair, then smoothing it back. She was right. He should go, but he made no move.

  "Linc?"

  "Hush," he said, glad when she did as he asked, sighed, and cuddled closer to him.

  "What, no argument?" he whispered in her ear.

  "Who has the strength to argue?"

  He chuckled. With Evan nestled under his arm as though she belonged there, he had to be the most satisfied man alive. All good and very, very right.

  A slight frown creased his forehead. There'd been one moment when he'd thought she didn't want him to touch her, when the long, cold years of his marriage intruded. But he'd been wrong and the moment passed, replaced with a feeling he hadn't felt in years—had never felt. A feeling so new and overwhelming, he hadn't recognized it, wouldn't name it.

  I'm in love with her.

  Admitting it to himself brought a settling, a kind of peace he hadn't known in years. But while there was no doubt in his mind, that wasn't true for Evan. Which meant building their relationship was going to take work–everything worthwhile did.

  I love her... And when the right time comes, I'll tell her. For now I'll have to be content with showing her—by doing what she asked. Get out of her bed even if it kills me.

  He lifted her chin, kissed her lightly on the mouth, and started to get up. Immediately her grip on him tightened.

  "Make up your mind, sweetheart." He kissed her again and smiled. "Stay or go?"

  She moaned and pulled the pillow over her face.

  "I take it that means go?"

  She looked at him from under the pillow, nodded her head in pained resignation, then stuffed the pillow behind her to sit up and look at him. When she pulled the sheet up to cover herself, he pulled it down and planted a kiss on her breast. He tousled her already tousled hair, then forced himself to stand up, amazed to find his body ready for her again.

  "At least you have the grace not to look happy about it." He pulled on his briefs and wrinkled slacks.

  "I'm not." She smiled at him, but her expression turned serious when she added, "It was... wonderful. It's been so long, I'd forgotten—" She stopped. "No, that wouldn't be right. I haven't forgotten anything. It was never like that for me before."

  He sat down on the edge of the bed and ran his hand across her sheet-covered thigh. "For me either. Believe me."

  She touched his mouth with a questioning finger. "Why didn't I meet you years ago?"

  He clasped her hand and kissed her palm. "Saving the best for last?"

  "Egotist!"

  "You're the one who just told me I'm a world-class lover."

  "I never..." She hit him with a pillow instead of finishing the sentence, and he pinned her to the bed, arms above her head. She was laughing when he kissed her. The kiss deepened, and for a moment both of them forgot to play. Her breath fanned across his cheek as he lifted his head to look into her eyes.

  "Not fair," she said, "using superior strength to take advantage of me." She didn't look as if she minded.

  When their gazes locked, smiles faded, and the air between them warmed and thickened. Linc's emotional center shifted with a gut-wrenching twist. And there, amidst rumpled sheets, tossed pillows, and laughter, he knew he couldn't wait—he had to tell her. Now. The words rose in his throat, welled upward. Unstoppable. He knew the risk, knew she might reject him—but it was a risk he had to take.

  "I'm in love with you, Evan," he said.

  Her eyes widened at his words, then slowly closed. "Don't. Please don't."

  "Don't?" He shook his head. "Not possible. Holding back the tide"—he gestured to the ocean outside the window—"would be easier. I love you. I can't—and don't want—to change that. And I want everything that comes with it."

  "You're talking two-car garage and white picket fence here, aren't you?"

  "Uh-huh."

  She sat up, pulled the sheet to her as if it were chain mail and she were under siege. "I told you, Linc, no entanglements."

  "You did," he agreed. He stood away from the bed, put on his shirt, and buttoned it, looking down at her as he did so. Her expression was guarded, beyond wary and a shade short of fear. Not the reaction he'd hoped for, but not exactly a surprise. It appeared the battle to win the heart and mind of Evangeline North had begun in earnest—and it wasn't going to be easy. But damned if he wasn't looking forward to it.

  "Then you didn't hear me."

  He stopped buttoning and stared at her grim face. "I said I love you, Evan, not that I'd just lost our firstborn in a poker game."

  "But what if I don't—can't love you back?"

  He did up the last button. "You do."

  This time when her mouth fell open, he closed it with a quick kiss, then sat on the edge of the bed and pulled on his shoes.

  When she found her voice, she was kneeling in the center of the bed, shrouded in linen. "This is crazy. I don't want any of this. I told you, no plans and no promises. There's going to be... pain, hurt... for both of us." She sounded desperate.

  "Not if we do this right, there won't."

  "But I don't have your... needs, Linc. We want different things from life."

  "Aft
er what just happened between us, I'd say our needs are very compatible." He pulled her to him for a lingering good-bye kiss and held her close as he added, "What we want most is each other. Everything else is leftovers."

  When she started to protest again, he put his fingers to her lips. "Think about it. That's all I ask." With that he left.

  Evan fell back onto the bed like a toppled tree. Think about it! Was he kidding? The whole idea was crazy.

  She had no intention of thinking about it, then she buried her face in the pillow and proceeded to think of nothing else.

  * * *

  The next morning, she woke early. She left a note for Cal telling him she'd meet him at the supermarket after work. She planned to do her overdue grocery shopping; then maybe she and Cal could catch a movie. They wouldn't make it home until late, which was fine with her. Besides, Linc was right when he'd said they didn't spend much time together. Pleased at a plan that provided both time with her son and a means to avoid Linc, she picked up her bag and headed for the door.

  In the light of the bright summer morning, and with a chorus of birds singing in the background, she half convinced herself last night was a figment of her imagination, that Linc's startling proclamation of love was merely a man's typical response to what happened between them in bed.

  Which ranked pretty high on the spectacular meter...

  Warming in a place she shouldn't be warming this early in the morning, she pushed that thought aside. Back to thinking about Linc's... lapse.

  Caressa had said he was unpredictable. Obviously she'd been right. He was probably already regretting his hasty words, just as she was regretting their lovemaking.

  Liar! The word stormed into her head, challenging her denial. She beat it back.

  No matter how spectacular—making love was a mistake, she repeated firmly, and today she'd come up with some way to rectify it.

  And falling in love with Linc? How do you fix that?

  Her step faltered, and she tossed a silent curse at this latest assault on her logic.

  I am not falling in love, in like, or any other damn thing. And that's that. She lifted her head and quickened her pace. What was needed here was mental and emotional discipline, and she had plenty of that. If only her nerves weren't jangling and her thinking weren't so... scattered.

  Realizing she'd reached the bus stop, she glanced up the street. She was so early; there was no sign of the bus. She dug out a book from her tote bag and sat on the bench to wait. She could always lose herself in a book.

  I won't think anymore about it. Now, where was I? Oh, yes, page 141.

  She smoothed the page twice and bent her head. The words bumped into one another like green recruits on their first parade.

  Love and all that came with it. She knew what came with love—a brain made of noodles and compromise—and she wanted no part of it. She absolutely refused to love Lincoln Stewart.

  There was only one person she planned to love in the next few years—herself.

  The book slipped from her grasp and fell to the pavement.

  Damn it! What was the matter with her? She resolutely returned to where she'd left off. Page 141.

  If she was selfish, so be it. She'd earned first place for herself, and she was going to take it. Love! Love meant taking second place, doing for others, putting your life on hold while they went ahead with theirs. And loving Linc meant... Jenny. Beautiful, smart little Jenny who needed more love and commitment than she was prepared to give. No. Loving Linc would be all wrong. It wouldn't even be fair. He needed a mother for Jenny. And motherhood was out, definitely out.

  "What time is the bus?"

  Again the book thudded to the ground, and Evan looked up, startled to see a young girl looking down at her.

  "Sorry," the girl added; bending down to pick up the book, she handed it to Evan.

  Evan mumbled her thanks, while returning the girl's apologetic smile. "That's okay. The bus should be along in five minutes or so."

  "Thanks." The girl said and took a seat beside her.

  Evan returned to her book. Page 141.

  * * *

  "How did it go with Mrs. Carey, Mom?" Cal asked between bites of his hamburger.

  Evan touched her mouth with her napkin and sat back to drink her coffee. "Good."

  "Good? That's it?"

  "She read me a list of things you'll need over the phone. I copied them down." Evan dug in her bag, found the list, and handed it to Cal. "It's not much. I think you already have most of them." She smiled at him. "She made it sound like a lot of fun. I envy you."

  Cal scanned the list, pocketed it, and returned to his burger. "You hate boats, remember?"

  She agreed with a nod of her head. "Maybe so, but I'll miss you."

  "You're kidding. You'll have a great time. My room will be clean for a whole week. You can have whatever kind of music you want on the radio and"—he dropped his last french fry into his mouth—"you'll save money on food."

  She laughed. "True. All true, but I'll still miss you."

  "What about Linc?"

  Her laughter faded. "What about him?"

  Cal gave her a look that was positively smug. "You could do worse, you know."

  "Calvin North, are you trying to fix me up?"

  "Yup. I'm not going to be around to take care of you forever, you know," he said. "Besides, you should be taking up with someone your own age. Linc's a good guy. You should nab him while you can."

  "Nab..." Evan's jaw dropped.

  Cal's grin widened.

  "I don't intend to nab anyone," she said. "We have plans, Cal. First you in university, and then me. Remember?"

  He shrugged. "Plans can change."

  "Not mine." Never again.

  He stopped eating and gave her one those speculative grown-up looks that reminded her how close he was to being a man. "Don't get bent out of shape about it, Mom. It was only a thought."

  "A bad thought. Besides, what Linc needs is a mother for Jenny."

  "Hey, no sweat." His kid-look came back and he resumed annihilating his burger. "Jenny's crazy about you, and if you need a reference or anything, you can count on me. I mean, look how well I turned out."

  Evan tried to stop her grin from answering his. "Finish your soda, oh-wise-one."

  "End of discussion?"

  "End of discussion."

  * * *

  Evan avoided Linc for the next few days. Overtime and a couple of movies kept her busy and away from the cabin. Fortunately Maud hadn't needed her to baby-sit. Linc was home, Maud told her; he'd look after Jenny while she visited her mother.

  Cal left for his boating trip early Saturday morning. After he'd gone, Evan wandered listlessly around the cabin before settling herself on the top step of the porch. She was still in her robe. Work, the stress of dodging Linc, and her fruitless efforts to come up with a plan that allowed her to keep the cabin—as well as her precious freedom—had exhausted her.

  She leaned her head against the porch rail, wrapped her fingers around her warm coffee cup, and stared vacantly at the ocean. It was quietly blue, reflecting the summer morning sky. She hated the thought of leaving here—leaving Linc. A vision of his compelling eyes and golden hair filled her mind, and she sighed. This was a beautiful place; Linc was a beautiful man.

  Why couldn't it work out? This was the way it happened, wasn't it? Woman meets man, falls in love with him, and—

  There it was. The truth at last. She was in love with him. She didn't want to be, hadn't intended to be, but there it was. Love—accompanied by some very high-voltage lust, and the usual emotional chaos.

  She shuddered, pulled her robe tight to her body and frowned. Admit it, Evan North. You're afraid. An emotional chicken.

  She didn't try to deny it. She was afraid, and with good reason. Love—at least her version of it—had never been good to her. No reason to think it would be different this time. It would be the same stale tune played on a different instrument. And, damn it, she wasn't lo
oking for this kind of commitment. Not now.

  "Hi." Jenny launched herself into Evan's arms with such gleeful force, Evan narrowly avoided spilling her coffee.

  "Good morning, Jen. What brings you here this early?" She gave the child a warm hug. "And where's Maud?"

  "Right here." Maud rounded the corner of the house. "The little scamp couldn't wait to invite you herself the minute the plans were made. She—"

  "Let me, let me," Jenny begged, settling herself on Evan's knee and looking up at her. Her face was alight with excitement when she said, "I'm having a party for my birthday. There's going to be games, clowns, presents, a cake, and everything."

  "Sounds wonderful, Jenny. And when is this party going to be?" Evan smiled at Maud over Jenny's head.

  "Next Saturday—when Cal's home."

  Evan nodded. "Good, because Cal wouldn't want to miss such a special day."

  "You, too, Evan. You have to come, too."

  "I wouldn't miss it, sweetie." She kissed Jenny lightly on the cheek. "Not for anything in the world."

  "Why don't you go down to the beach for a while, honey. The tide's out. I'll bet it left lots of interesting things behind. But stay where we can see you," Maud suggested.

  When Jenny ran off to torment the crabs, Maud gave Evan a thoughtful look. "You look tired. Busy week?" She joined her on the step.

  "No more than normal."

  They sat in silence until Maud said, "I'm your friend if you want to talk. I hope you know that."

  "Thanks, but I don't..."

  Maud's eyes met hers and she tilted her head, waiting.

  Evan lifted her chin. "Not true. I do want to talk. I need to talk so much, I think I'll burst if I try to hold it in. But it's new to me, you know, having someone who's... interested," she added, embarrassed to make such an admission.

  "Just start talking. It's easy once you start."

  And Evan did start talking, telling Maud the whole story. Linc. Cal. All of it.

  When she finished, silence rested easily between them, and when Maud spoke, her words were so soft as to barely disturb it. She made no mention of Evan's past, her plans for the future; gave no advice about what she should or should not do, and passed no judgments. Instead she spoke of Linc.