Dreams Don't Wait (Contemporary romance)

by EC Sheedy

  "You want this, and damn it, so do I." He reached for her, pulled her hard against him, and kissed her endlessly. By the time he pulled back, she was in full meltdown and completely breathless. It was a sensory ambush. When she found her voice, it was husky and foreign.

  "Why did you do that?"

  He cupped the base of her head with one hand; with the other he smoothed her hair behind her ear. She fought the urge to lean deeper into his supporting palm.

  "Why not?" he asked.

  "The old evasion. A question for a question." She shook her head. "Not good enough."

  "I want you. Any way I can have you. You set the terms. Is that clear enough?" His thumb moved lazily along her hairline.

  Was it his lazy caress or his softly spoken words? Something was affecting her vocal cords. She found no immediate reply.

  "And you were right about marriage. It was a bad idea."

  She gulped. "It was?"

  He shrugged and reached up to undo the clip holding her hair in place. "Why complicate things? Right?" He put the clip on the dash.

  "Right," she muttered, trying desperately to make sense of her jumbled feelings. There was relief, exhilaration, and a vague melancholy. Confusion. Did she want Linc with no ties, no commitment—no Jenny?

  He combed her hair with his fingers, his blue eyes glinting in the dim light. "I want to make love to you. I want you under me, moist and clinging. I want you to come hard—over and over—while I'm deep inside you. I want to feel every quiver, every shudder, and I want to taste you—all of you." His gaze was hot and steady. "And I want that now."

  She stared at him, trying to stem the wild clamor in her breast, the damp trembling between her legs. His gaze never left her when he moved the hair from her neck and bent to kiss the hollow below her ear.

  "Make love with me." He took her face in his hands and kissed her, his tongue sinking deep, thrusting in a sure, blatantly sexual rhythm. He whispered an explicit request in her ear, and Evan gasped. This was no longer an ambush. It was a full-on assault. Her overheated blood thickened, and a sheen of perspiration dewed across her forehead. The screen that was her mind went blank, and when Linc pulled her across the car onto his lap, her back to his chest, the battle was won. She was his.

  Her head fell back against his shoulder as he impatiently yanked up her T-shirt and undid the front clasp of her bra. His hands covered her breasts, and her nipples hardened against his palms.

  * * *

  Linc told himself he'd stay in control, but he was losing it. In seducing her, he'd seduced himself. Overheated. He was rigid with need, throbbing with a dull, thunderous ache only she could ease. He shifted upward, pressing himself against her, knowing there'd be no relief for him in the confined front seat of the car. Not so for Evan. He found the zipper on her jeans and pulled it down, slipping his hand into her already damp curls.

  She was ready for him. He muttered words that hovered somewhere between a blessing and a curse, and his hardened flesh strained further. His zipper felt like an iron cast.

  She moaned in his ear, and her heated breath made his brain pound. When he leaned back against the window, she followed, stretching to give him full and open access. He drew in a painful breath as she surged upward into his hand. Fighting his own need, he stroked her softly, rubbed her wet satin nub. She lifted to him again, and he entered her with his fingers—deeply and intimately.

  She climaxed almost instantly. Then her hand covered his, arching into it, as if to savor each pulse, each tiny spasm that came with her release.

  When she stilled, she said, "God. I've never—You must think I—"

  He turned her face to his and kissed her into silence. He knew exactly what she was going to say. It had never been this way with him either. Never this fast, this hot. Only with Evan, the woman he loved, the woman he had to have. She shifted toward the steering wheel. And as much as he enjoyed her moving over him, the pressure building in his groin was on red alert. He was caught in his own trap, and it was fast becoming unbearable.

  "You have to move, love. I'm burning up," he managed to mumble between ragged inhalations of breath.

  Without a word, she turned to face him, kissed him softly, and started a slow slide down his chest. She stopped long enough to undo the buttons on his shirt. She kissed his mouth, his chin, his throat, nibbled at an available nipple along the way, licked down the taut plane of his stomach. And finally—when he could stand no more—she put out his fire.

  * * *

  The drive home was made in silence. With the heavy rain, it was impossible to watch the passing scenery, so Evan watched Linc. He was so obviously thoughtful. Once, she caught the tail end of a smile that hovered between a smile of satisfaction and an irritating smirk.

  It rankled.

  She'd done it again. Acted against her own better judgment. In a parked car. In the light of morning. The tips of her ears burned at the thought. She was hopeless. Linc made one play for her, and her defenses crumbled. Hopeless. Maybe she was some kind of sex addict. Maybe she should get treatment. She looked at him and sighed. There was no cure for Lincoln Stewart.

  So, what now? Do I take Linc up on his offer of uncomplicated sex and no commitments or—

  "Are you going to get out?"

  She looked up from her reverie. They were home—Linc's home—she corrected herself. She hadn't even noticed.

  He leaned over and opened the door. His arm brushed over her still-sensitized breasts. When she gasped and instinctively stiffened, he smiled—a maddening, knowing smile—and brushed a feathery-kiss over her mouth.

  "Me, too," he whispered.

  Evan clamped her mouth shut and got out of the car. She absolutely refused to make love with Linc again until things were clear in her own mind. This stew of emotion was making her a wreck. Her plans were in chaos. Cal was livid with her. Linc had taken his proposal back—and given her another one. And Jenny? Jenny had asked her last night at the hospital if she would be her mommy. What a mess.

  Linc was leading her to the door.

  She dug her heels in. "I'm not going in. I have to get ready for work."

  "You're already late. Call in, tell them you can't make it. We need to talk." Linc—doing his commander best routine.

  "No."

  "No? Just like that?" He raised a questioning eye-brow.

  "Just like that. I don't want to talk, until I have something to say. And right now all I am is confused. If you're looking for rational conversation or... commitment, now is not the time for it."

  "You've already made the commitment. You just haven't acknowledged it. I didn't know that until now."

  She stared at him. What on earth was he talking about? "If you're talking about what we, uh, did in the car"—she blushed hotly—"that was not a commitment. That was just... just—"

  "Sex?" His grin was pure innocence.

  Unable to stop herself, she smiled, lowering her head to hide it.

  Linc chuckled. "Okay, no talk and no questions. Not today." He touched her hair. "But you might want to come in and tidy up before you see Cal. At sixteen, they know all the signs."

  Evan's hands flew to her messy hair. "Thanks," she muttered, and followed him into the house. Inside she headed straight for the guest powder room off the hall.

  Linc was waiting for her when she came out, a dark, backlit silhouette in the open door of the library. He was holding two mugs of coffee. He held one out to her. She hesitated.

  "Chicken," he teased.

  She studied him but didn't rise to the bait. "I don't get it," she said.

  He took a drink from his mug and handed her the other. With a resigned gesture, she took it.

  "Get what?" he asked, turning to go into the library. She followed.

  "This about-face you're doing. A few days ago, you couldn't wait to get rid of me. Nothing's changed."

  "I've decided it has."

  "You've decided—"

  He shrugged. "Someone has to take charge of this re
lationship. If it was left up to you, you'd bury yourself in some book and let it self-destruct."

  She lifted her eyes to his. They were steadier than the beat of her heart. "I can't be Jenny's mother, Linc. You should find someone who can."

  His gaze was thoughtful. "Maybe I should, but for now I'm only interested in finding a lover—for me. Interested?"

  She gaped at him, incapable of keeping up with the twists and turns in this conversation.

  Linc carried on. "Let's accept that we got in over our heads. That's all. Occasionally I can be a trifle... aggressive. I pushed you, too far, too fast. The white-picket-fence, two-car-garage thing. It was a mistake. I take it back."

  "You can't simply take a proposal of marriage back." She ignored the painful opening of a crack somewhere near her heart.

  "I just did." Linc drained his mug, looked at his watch. "And you should go now. You must be beat. I'll walk you to the cabin." He took her mug, put it beside his own on the side table, gripped her elbow, and started for the door.

  Evan was mute. Either she'd gone insane or someone had tilted the world. And who was this man gripping her arm? It wasn't Linc, surely. Linc was that angry, sarcastic man who'd greeted her at the door last night. This was a stranger who, with heady kisses and a few well-chosen words, had made his intentions clear. He wanted her as his... mistress.

  Linc took an umbrella from the hall closet. It kept the worst of the rain off them as they hurried down the path to the cabin. There was no sign of Cal. Evan guessed he'd already left for class. She quickly took the three steps up to the door. She had some serious thinking to do, and she needed to do it alone. When she turned to say good-bye, she bumped into the solid wall of Linc's chest.

  He stepped toward her, propping the umbrella against the wall, and braced both hands on the door behind her. Her hands lifted to rest, palms flat, against his chest. She intended to push him away, but her body disobeyed the order. He leaned toward her and nuzzled her under the ear, and again her body defied her. Her breathing stalled. He nibbled on her earlobe, and his hot breath tickled and teased her ear. This was no good. No good at all.

  "I think you should—"

  "Shush. And no more shoulds." His lips grazed hers in a light promise of a kiss. Keeping a tantalizing distance between them, his mouth again brushed over hers as he stroked her parted lips with his tongue. Her uneven sigh whispered of her growing excitement. Held against the door by the weight of his body, Evan couldn't move, couldn't make him come closer or move him away. Linc was in total control. Her hands, crushed between them, balled into fists as she waited breathlessly for him to deepen the kiss.

  He pulled back and let his hands slide up the door behind her head. The effect was to wedge them even closer together. Cocking his head, he looked down at her, his gaze hungry. His voice when he spoke was smoky and low.

  "I'm not going to let you go, Evan."

  Oh, God, I hope not, was the thought speeding through her brain. She barely finished it before his mouth slanted over hers in a kiss that moved her soul.

  * * *

  With a thank-God-it's-Friday stretch, Evan tossed her bag and jacket on the sofa and headed for the kitchen. She let the tap run to chill the water and filled a glass. The day had been unbearably long, and her brain had stayed on overdrive during all of it, though that had had little to do with the technical manual she'd been editing all day.

  It was last night—and this morning. Thoughts of Linc, of what had happened between them, ran through her head constantly. Did he truly believe she'd become his lover—his mistress? Surely not. Not after—

  After offering me marriage only days before. Evan shook her head. A proposal he'd been quick to take back when it suited him, she reminded herself. She wondered why that made her so angry and confused. She drank the last of her water and rinsed out the glass.

  "Mom?" Cal came in the door. His bag of books joined her purse and jacket before he came into the tiny kitchen area. " How's Jenny?"

  "She's fine. When I called from work, Linc said she was trying to put one of her sweaters on Copper. I was just going up to the house to see her. Want to come?" When she issued the invitation to Cal, Evan knew a tickle of anxiety. They'd barely spoken in days, and she hated the tension between them.

  Their glances met, and Cal nodded. "Sure," he said, "but wait a minute. I've got something for her."

  He went to dig in his backpack. He pulled out a coloring book and crayons. When Evan smiled, he looked faintly embarrassed.

  "You always got me coloring books when I was sick," he said, adding, "Think Jenny will like it?"

  "Cal, it wouldn't matter what you gave Jenny, she'd love it. I think she's your number-one fan."

  "She's a neat kid. I like her."

  Evan went quiet for a second before reaching out to touch his hair, almost as dark as her own. "Friends?" she asked.

  He nodded, and his flush deepened. "I'm sorry, Mom," he said. "I wouldn't really stay here. If you want to go—we go."

  Evan resisted throwing her arms around him for a seriously long cuddle. He'd be mortified. So she said, "Thanks, love. That means more to me than I can say, and I'm sorry, too. I didn't mean to spring a move on you like that. I know how much you like it here. I do, too."

  Cal gave her a searching look. "Then why, Mom? Why not—? Sorry, forget it," he mumbled.

  She straightened away from the counter she'd been leaning on. "Let's go see Jen, okay? Then let's go out for pizza."

  "You hate pizza," he reminded her.

  "Consider it a bribe. I want to hear all about your first week at U Vic."

  He nodded then. "Deal."

  As they walked the path to Linc's house, Cal's question made its way into her mind and refused to leave.

  Why not? Why not? Why?...

  Chapter 13

  Jenny, Cal, and Evan were sprawled on Jenny's bedroom floor, coloring, when Linc came in a half hour later. He stood in the doorway unnoticed and watched them until he got that peculiar lump in his throat.

  "I thought you were supposed to be in bed, Princess Jennifer Mae Stewart," he said, adopting an appropriately sober tone.

  "I'm better now," Jenny stated matter-of-factly and continued her coloring.

  Linc glanced down at Evan. "Some baby-sitter you are."

  "She's fine. Honestly," she said. "There's not a trace of fever. She probably didn't need to go to the hospital at all. I guess I overreacted." She looked away from him, seeming intent on getting her crayons back in their box. The lady was edgy, very edgy. He didn't know why, but the thought cheered him.

  "People tend to do that when they care. You did the right thing. Thank you. I meant to tell you that earlier, but I, uh, got sidetracked."

  Evan flushed crimson.

  "Daddy, Cal brought me a coloring book. Come see. Look what he's done." She pointed to one of the pages Cal had colored. "You do one, Daddy. I'll pick it. Okay?"

  Linc joined the trio on the floor. "Okay. Which one is mine?"

  Jenny turned a couple of pages. "This one. It's a castle, and it's right next to Evan's page."

  He picked up a blue crayon. "Good. I can't think of anyplace else I'd rather be."

  "I'm going to visit with Maud awhile," Evan stammered, getting to her feet. Was that Cal chuckling as she stepped into the hall?

  * * *

  "Of course you'll stay for dinner. I've made enough for a small army. I wouldn't want it to go to waste." It was seven o'clock, and Evan and Cal were at the back door, ready to leave.

  "Thanks, Maud, but I promised Cal a pizza," Evan protested.

  "That's okay, Mom. We can do that tomorrow." Cal sniffed the air. "I'll pass on pizza for Maud's cooking anytime. And I'm going to study at Mike's tonight, so it'll save me some time."

  Maud looked pleased. "That settles it then."

  Evan cast a nervous glance in the direction of the kitchen door. Linc was still upstairs. She didn't know how he'd feel about her and Cal staying for dinner. She didn't know h
ow he felt about anything. He'd been strange since last night, acting as if their terrible argument never happened. Evan felt as though she were in a house of mirrors, where nothing was quite what it seemed. She was about to protest again when Linc came in carrying a pajama-clad Jenny in his arms. Copper wasn't far behind.

  "Evan and Cal are staying for dinner," Maud said before she could open her mouth.

  "Good." Linc's blue eyes locked on Evan. "And after dinner, we'll have that talk we didn't get around to last night."

  The remark was typical Linc, more command than question and managing to carry enough innuendo to capture the interest of everyone in the room. Evan glanced at Maud and Cal, who were both instantly preoccupied with setting the table and making a clatter. Jenny was not so circumspect. She gave Evan a curious look, seemed to consider something, then cocked her head.

  "Do you love my daddy?" she asked. The question came with the startling swiftness of a Jack-in-the-box.

  The clatter stopped. Evan didn't have to look to know the attention of both Cal and Maud was riveted on her.

  And Linc had the most peculiar smirk on his face.

  When she glared at him, he gave her an innocent what's-a-dad-gonna-do kind of shrug and cocked his head in much the same manner as Jenny. He was waiting for her answer—right along with his daughter. They were both unmanageable, incorrigible, unpredictable, and... and... she couldn't imagine her life without them—either of them.

  Her heartbeat slowed, eased to a deeper, more satisfying rhythm. Ivy halls, libraries full of books, university degrees, foreign ports—dreams , all dreams. And dreams could wait.

  "Yes, Jenny, I love your daddy," she said, her heart now solidly in her throat.

  "Me, too, Evan?" the child asked, eyes wide.

  "You, too, sweetheart." Oh, yes, you, too, my darling Jenny.

  "Can Cal be my brother then?" Jenny wanted specifics.

  Evan turned back to Linc. "I don't know, Jenny. That's up to your dad," she said. By the look on Linc's face, he hadn't expected either her honest answer or her challenge. He looked as though he'd been poleaxed.