by Jen Gilroy
“What a dress.” He slid it over and off her hips in one quick motion, and the fabric pooled around their feet. He lifted her and set her on the bed.
“My shoes.” She started to stand, but he pushed her back, gentle but firm, and rolled onto the bed beside her.
“Leave them on.” He dipped his head and sucked one of her swollen breasts into the wet heat of his mouth, his tongue rough on her skin.
She fisted her hands in his hair as erotic sensation spiraled through her. She clenched her legs together and twisted her hips, and her lacy white thong rubbed against the quilt.
He lifted his head, hair tousled and face flushed. “You’re so beautiful.” He traced the curve of her face, his touch tender and achingly sweet. “Even more beautiful than you were all those years ago.”
“It’s the dress.” She caught his hand in hers, his palm calloused.
“You’re not wearing the dress.” His smile was both suggestive and sweet. “Which must mean…” He slid his big hand across her breasts and over her stomach to the top of her thong panty. “It’s you.”
He eased her legs apart and ran a finger under the edge of her underwear. She whimpered and arched against him. He dipped his head and kissed the path his fingers had made before continuing lower to trace a path to her knees.
Charlie tensed. “No.” She pulled away and sat up, the heel of one shoe tangling in the quilt.
“What is it?” He stopped and moved up the bed to gather her into his arms.
She tried to squirm out of his grasp, but he held her tight. “Don’t touch my leg.”
He stroked her back in a tender caress. “It hurts?”
She shook her head and buried her face in his shoulder.
“Why can’t I touch it?” His fingers continued to soothe her.
“Why would you want to touch it?” His skin was smooth and hot against her cheek.
“I want to touch your leg because it’s part of you, and I want to touch and taste all of you.” Sean’s voice was gentle, and he put one hand between her legs again and slid up and down, finding the most sensitive spot. “Will you let me?”
Charlie raised her head, and his hand stilled. Waiting for her to trust him enough, believe in him enough.
“Yes.” She locked her eyes on his.
Not breaking eye contact, Sean edged her knees apart and moved between them, resting one hand at the top of her calf. She forced herself to relax as his fingers massaged the back of her leg and traced the outside edge of the scar tissue, his touch feather-light. “Is this okay?”
“Yes.” Her throat clogged. For the first time since the accident, someone was touching her leg in a way that wasn’t clinical, as a woman instead of a patient. A sexy, desirable woman.
“What about this?” Sean’s breath warmed the inside of her calves as his thumb followed the biggest part of the scar, the jagged tear that reached almost to her ankle.
“That’s okay.” She groaned as his other hand returned to her waist and he slid a finger under the waistband of her thong.
“Only okay?” He chuckled. “I must be losing my touch.” His finger probed. “Lift your hips, Sunshine.” He slid the scrap of lace down her legs and off, over her shoes. “I never thought shoes could be such a turn-on, but these are so sexy.”
“This is too.” Her hands sought the bulge in his boxer shorts.
“No you don’t.” Sean groaned and his body pulsed against her hand. “I won’t last ten seconds.”
“And that would be bad?” She squeezed harder and his whole body shook.
“Very bad.” He eased her hand away and pinned it to the quilt, then ran his other hand between her legs again and slid his fingers into her wetness.
“I might not last ten seconds either if you start that.” Charlie arched her hips against the mounting pressure and whimpered as he stroked harder, faster, and slipped first one finger inside, then two, using the pad of his thumb where she needed it most.
“You always had a fast recovery time.” His breathing was labored.
She tightened her inner muscles around his fingers, and he growled.
“So did you.” She gasped and teetered on the edge as he let go of her hand and flicked one of her tight nipples with his thumb.
“Come for me, Sunshine,” he murmured as he added a third finger and thrust hard.
She tumbled, panting, trembling as tears stung the backs of her eyes, holding on to him while the world swung around in a kaleidoscope of color. She hummed with pleasure as he held her tight, a fine sheen of sweat coating his skin against hers together with a faint musky smell.
She stared into his face to memorize his features. It was the face of the man she’d loved for almost her whole life. He had full lips, blue eyes, and the blond fairness that contrasted with her dark hair and eyes. The man a part of her still loved and always would.
And the man who’d given her much more than an orgasm. In accepting the scars on her body, Sean had also brought healing to the scars on her heart.
Need roared through him as Sean watched Charlie, her cheeks rosy, eyes half closed, lips parted. Her body still trembled as the aftershocks of the orgasm rocked through her. In the muted light, her skin was almost translucent, and her lush breasts rose and fell in time with her rapid breaths.
He kissed the side of her mouth, and her eyes flipped open. “Checking to make sure you’re still awake.”
Her satisfied sigh filled him with pride. He’d given her that pleasure. She stretched and her breasts lifted. “Sorry.” She chuckled, soft and warm. “I left you behind.”
“Make it up to me.” He thumbed her nipple, liking the little squeak she didn’t suppress.
She rolled to face him and traced the sun tattoo on his biceps. “I’m surprised you kept this.” She gave the tattoo a gentle kiss before her tongue trailed across his arm and over to his chest.
“It never meant anything to anybody but you and me.” He quivered as she nipped his chest.
She tugged at his boxers and, when they were off, cupped his erection and stroked him, like she was learning the shape and size of him all over again.
He groaned as she picked up the pace, thoughts of keeping it slow forgotten.
She kissed him, hot and intense.
“Wait,” he murmured against her mouth, even though she was killing him with what she was doing to him with her mouth and hands. But he’d waited to be with her again like this for a long time. “I want you so much.” He searched her face and read the truth in her eyes but needed to hear her say it.
“I want you too, so let’s stop talking and get on with it.” A cheeky grin flashed across her face. “I came first, so it’s Gibbs one and Carmichael zero. I’m ready for round two.”
He’d forgotten this part of sex with Charlie. The teasing and how she’d been as competitive in bed as out of it. He pushed her back against the pillows, kissed her breasts again, and stroked her. “Round two, huh?”
“You bet.” She grabbed a condom from the nightstand, handed it to him, and watched as he tore the package open and rolled the latex over his shaft.
“Tell me what works. I don’t want to hurt your leg.” He stroked her arm and fought for control.
“You won’t.” Her breath came in little puffs as she pulled him on top of her and spread her legs wide. “This works for me.”
“It works for me, Sunshine.” Taking it slow, he slid into her. Her body adjusted and welcomed him again.
“Don’t hold back.” She lifted her hips to take him deeper before wrapping her legs around his waist like she used to. “Don’t treat me any different.”
“I won’t, I…” He cried out as she rocked against him.
“Faster,” she urged.
Lust pounded through him, pushed him toward release, pushed her to another release too.
When it was over, when he’d come deep inside her and collapsed on top of her, murmuring into her hair, Sean knew what they’d done had changed things.
&nbs
p; It was no longer casual and no longer about what had been between them before either. It was something new, something he’d never felt before.
It scared the hell out of him because he didn’t know if he could trust her with his heart again. And it was already the first week of August. She’d be back at work soon. Could he count on her to stick around for longer than a summer fling?
Chapter Fifteen
Charlie turned her head on the pillow as her eyes adjusted to the velvety darkness. Even in sleep, Sean had an arm around her to hold her close, and her legs were pinned by one of his. She hadn’t had a nightmare, but for the first time in years, she’d dreamed of the baby, seen its blue eyes like Sean’s and his smile on its tiny face. She eased out of Sean’s grasp and held her breath as the bed frame creaked.
She slipped out of bed, stepped over her dress, found Sean’s shirt, tucked her arms into the sleeves, and buttoned it. The tails brushed her thighs. Giving up on finding her underwear, she tiptoed to the bedroom door, inched it open, and crept down the stairs into the living room.
Moonlight pooled across the wooden floor and taupe rug. In shades of green and brown, the room echoed the forest outside. Watercolors of Firefly Lake hung on the walls, and wooden duck and loon decoys were arranged along the mantelpiece.
“Hey, Shadow,” she whispered as the dog sat up in her bed beneath a window.
Shadow wagged her tail and made a noise between a bark and a whine.
“No, sweetie.” Charlie patted one of the couches on either side of the stone fireplace. “You have to be quiet, but you can sit by me while I watch TV.” She curled up on the couch and found the remote control on a pine blanket box. Shadow nestled beside her and Charlie scrolled through channels until she found a twenty-four-hour news station.
Shadow nudged Charlie’s bare leg with her cold nose.
Charlie scratched the dog’s ears, then grabbed a throw from the back of the couch to cover her legs. She stared at the flickering images on the screen without seeing them.
She didn’t regret making love with Sean. Three times, each a mix of urgency, tenderness, and sweet rediscovery. Each time oh-so-right. She burrowed into his shirt and inhaled his familiar, reassuring scent, warm and spicy. But great sex didn’t mean there could be a future for them. She’d lost her chance at that future even before she’d miscarried their baby.
Before coming back to Firefly Lake, she’d kept the memories of the baby under control. She’d only let them in on the anniversary of her due date. On the anniversary of the day she miscarried. And whenever she saw a child the same age her child would have been or looked like it might have looked. But especially after tonight, those memories, and the ghost of the child that might have been, were everywhere.
With an effort, Charlie straightened and increased the sound on the TV.
“We join Lauren Moore, live.” The male anchor’s perfect teeth gleamed at Charlie before the shot changed to Lauren on a hotel balcony, a cloud of smoke billowing skyward, the staccato of gunfire in the distance. Her slim figure was hidden by a flak jacket, strawberry-blond hair covered by a helmet.
“She a friend of yours?” Sean moved into the room wearing only his boxers.
Shadow raised her head and thumped her tail.
Charlie stilled and muted the sound. “Yes.” Her body thrummed at Sean’s nearness.
“Shadow knows she’s not allowed on the furniture, but she also knows you’re a soft touch.” Sean inclined his head toward Lauren. “Do you two work together?”
“Not now, but we met when we were both rookies. Women reporters on the front line stick together. Even though I work in print and digital and she’s in television.” And Lauren’s world was Charlie’s world, the one she was going back to in nineteen days.
“You didn’t want to work in TV?” Sean sat and looped an arm around her. His hard body warmed her inside and out.
“No. Lauren gets a lot of attention for how her hair looks, what she wears, and her makeup.” And Charlie never wanted to be the center of attention.
“People were firing shots right behind her.” Sean was disbelieving. “It’s real, not a movie. Why should what she looks like matter?”
“You’d be surprised. Whereas me, I file my stories and nobody sees me.” Although it didn’t stop the hate mail and threats from the people who disagreed with what she wrote.
“You miss it, don’t you?” A cloud slid across the moon to darken the room and shadow Sean’s face.
“It’s the only life I know.” And she’d always loved her job. In the last few days, though, she’d glimpsed a different life. One where she didn’t live on the edge, always on a deadline, pumped up on coffee and adrenaline, chasing stories, the truth of those stories more important than the truth of her heart.
“I’m trying to understand your life, but this is the only life I know.” Sean’s voice echoed in the quiet. “When I woke up and you weren’t beside me, I thought you might have left.”
Charlie shook her head. After making love with Sean again, leaving him would be like ripping out a chunk of her heart. “I started thinking about the baby and who we were back then.”
Sean covered her hand with his and hit the OFF button on the remote. “I’ve thought about that a lot too. Maybe we weren’t ready to be parents, but you’d still have been a good mom. Never doubt that.” His gaze was tender, and Charlie melted a bit.
“Well, you’d have been a good dad. You’re a good dad to Ty.” And when she saw Sean and Ty together, her heart squeezed tight. What if all those years ago she’d given up the only man she’d ever truly love to chase a dream that, when she hadn’t paid attention, had turned to dust?
“Ty and I have our problems, but I keep trying to figure things out. Linnie says it’s the best you can do.” Sean tucked Charlie’s body into his.
“Linnie’s a smart woman.” With the kind of smarts Charlie didn’t think she had. The kind you couldn’t learn from books.
“You’re smart too.” Sean’s voice was gruff. “I bet our baby would have been smart and as pretty as you if we’d had a girl.”
Charlie’s chest ached and her eyes stung. “Or a boy who looked like you.” A boy who’d have been tall and strong and good.
“Boy or girl, with our genes they’d have gotten into a heap of trouble like we did.” Sean’s laugh was forced. “It’s a wonder we didn’t drown ourselves in that lake with some of the stunts we pulled. Lucky for me, Ty’s more sensible.”
Charlie cleared her throat to will back the tears. “I’m not exactly the maternal type. I spend most of my time in a flak jacket. Not a lot of women who do what I do have kids.” And after Sean, she’d convinced herself a husband and family were complications she didn’t need.
“You always followed your own path. If you wanted kids, you’d make it work.” Sean let out a long breath.
“Women like Mia and Linnie are cut out for motherhood. Not me. I never even played with dolls when I was little.” Except her heart ached when she saw her sister with her nieces because Mia had the life Charlie had missed. And so until this summer, she’d made her rare visits brief.
“Being a mom isn’t a one-size-fits-all job description.” Sean gave her a heart-melting smile.
“Can you see me with a baby?” She forced a laugh, trying not to let him glimpse the hurt, the sense of loss still so profound it rocked her to the core.
“Sure.” He turned on a low light. His expression gentle and so caring she wanted to hold on to him and never let go.
She glanced at her phone, beside her on the couch where she’d left it the night before. The screen was dark but still accusing. When she switched it on, there’d be another message from Max asking why she hadn’t finished the research he wanted. Charlotte Gibbs might officially be on medical leave, but she still never missed a deadline.
But she didn’t have to be Charlotte yet. Charlie nestled into Sean and gave herself permission not to think about Max or work. She knew better than to let her
self trust anyone, to let herself believe in Sean or this life, but she could take the comfort he offered, hold it close and store it for the lonely days and nights ahead.
“Aw, hell.” His warm breath feathered her hair as he wrapped her close. “What are we going to do?”
“I don’t know,” she murmured. The future was something she didn’t want to think about. She traced the fine hairs on his leg, and he groaned.
Sean was growing on her and maybe she was growing on him, but she wasn’t ready for him, for them, or where all this might lead.
Eight days later Sean stopped outside his kitchen door as the words he’d intended to say died on his lips. An ABBA song Charlie’s mom had liked blasted from the iPod docked on the counter, and Charlie and Shadow danced along. Charlie held on to the dog’s front paws as Shadow glided across the floor on her hind legs. Charlie laughed and threw her head back, a dark cloud of hair framing her face.
“You want a treat?” She let go of Shadow’s paws and reached into a low cabinet, giving Sean a heart-stopping view of her butt and her bare legs beneath his baseball shirt.
Each day he got more comfortable having Charlie around to borrow his clothes and fill his bathroom with her stuff. But almost without him noticing it, she’d filled an empty place in his heart. Waking and sharing breakfast with her. Stopping work at midday to share lunch with her too. After work, walking Shadow, having a meal and spending time together talking, watching movies, and making love. All those things had shaped his life into a new pattern.
Although neither of them had used the word, what they shared wasn’t about sex. It was about love. Not what they’d once shared either. The easiness and bone-deep comfort he’d always found with Charlie were still there, but they’d deepened into more.
Shadow barked and Charlie turned. “Hey.” She muted the music.
In the sudden silence, the truth Sean had been avoiding hit him with the force of a freight train. He didn’t want to lose Charlie again, but he didn’t see how he could keep her either. This was temporary; in another week she’d walk out that door to go back to work like she’d always planned. And Ty would come back from Kincaid on Sunday afternoon, and he’d have to talk to his son about Charlie before that happened.