Freefall

by RaeAnne Thayne

  She made a noncommittal sound and he glanced at her. "I'm so sorry about this. Hell of a wedding day, isn't it?"

  To both of their surprise, his ironic tone surprised a laugh out of her. "You could say that."

  He studied her for a moment then startled her further by standing up and pulling her into his arms. He was warm and solid, the most dependable thing in her world just now, and she settled against him with a sigh, her arms around his waist.

  "We're in this together now, Sophie," he murmured against her hair. "Whatever we eventually find out about the accident, the two of us can deal with it."

  How long had it been since she'd been part of an "us"? Since Shelly had married Peter and Sophie had taken off on her own. She hadn't realized how very much she had missed being a piece of a greater whole until just this moment.

  She rested against his chest, listening to his heartbeat under the fabric of his Coast Guard uniform and wishing she could find the courage to tell him about that horrible night with Peter, about the reason she had left Seal Point so abruptly.

  She couldn't, though. If she told him and he didn't believe her, she thought it would shatter her.

  And if he did believe her, she knew the revelation would destroy any positive memory he might have left of his brother. Given the direction the investigation was apparently taking, she had a feeling Tom would have very few of those left.

  "Are you regretting going through with this—marrying me—now that the FBI believes my brother might have been a murderer?"

  She saw uncertainty and doubt in his silvery-blue eyes and wanted to soothe it away.

  "No," she said honestly. "Whatever Peter may have done in the past has nothing to do with this, with the future and what's best for the children. On the contrary, if what the FBI says is true, they will need love and support and stability from us more than ever."

  When he said nothing, she tilted her head up and found him watching her, an unreadable look in his eyes. Before she could ask him about it, he lowered his head and kissed her.

  His mouth was warm and she tasted a memory of the champagne the judge had pressed on them.

  His kiss was tender, sweet, and answering emotions welled up inside her, threatening to spill free. She returned the kiss, her arms tight around him. Her husband. She could hardly believe they were married. With sudden fierceness, she wanted this to work, wanted them to be able to build a good, happy life for the children out of the ashes of their tragedy.

  Wanted to build that life with him.

  Need and desire and love tangled through her and she sighed against his mouth. The sound seemed to spur a change in his kiss, from slow and gentle to hot, intense.

  She pulled him closer, and for several long, drugging moments they fused together, lost in each other. Through the heavy sounds of her ragged breathing and her pulse in her ear, she gradually became aware of another sound intruding—giggles.

  She wrenched her mouth away, grateful nobody's hands had yet strayed into any embarrassing territory and half turned in his arms toward the doorway.

  The children stood watching them, Ali with dreamy stars in her eyes and the twins both covering their mouths with their hands to hold in more of their giggles.

  She cleared her throat to draw Tom's attention to their interested audience. He pulled away with a low, heartfelt groan but kept her tucked under one arm.

  "Are you guys all done being mushy?" Zach asked.

  "For now," Tom answered, his arm still slung over her shoulder.

  "'Cause you said we could do something fun today."

  "I was doing something fun," he muttered, loud enough only for her to hear. She was mortified by the blush she could feel soaking her cheeks and wondered what had happened to the sophisticated, cosmopolitan world traveler she had always considered herself.

  "Your uncle and I still need to change and then we'll figure out what to do," Sophie said quickly.

  "Can we go out on one of the whale-watching cruises?" Ali asked.

  "I want to ride horses and be cowboys," Zach put in.

  "Aquarium! Aquarium!" Zoe cried, jumping in place and waving her arms.

  "How about we drive up to Santa Cruz to the boardwalk and go on some of the rides?" Tom suggested, an idea that immediately met with universal approval.

  "Just give us a moment to change," he said to the children, then dropped his arm from her shoulder and walked with Sophie out into the hallway.

  He kissed her one last time before she headed to her room, her insides sighing and quivering like she had already climbed off a twirling amusement park ride.

  * * *

  As wedding days go, this one was certainly unique.

  Tom tilted the SUV's rearview mirror and spared a look from the dark road just long enough to see all three of the children were cuddled together in the back seat, sound asleep.

  He never would have imagined he would be spending his wedding night with three sleeping chaperons.

  But then, nothing about this particular wedding was ordinary. He supposed it was only fitting that they had spent the entire day with the children since they were the reason for the wedding in the first place.

  "It's been a long day for them." Sophie was just a quiet voice in the dark coming from the seat next to him and he wondered what was running through her head.

  "A long day but a good one, don't you think? For the most part, anyway."

  She was silent for a moment. "Yes," she finally murmured over the muted jazz flowing from the stereo speakers. "The boardwalk was a great idea. The children loved it."

  "I seem to remember somebody else screaming with glee on the Giant Dipper."

  Her laugh was low, as sultry as the jazz, and vibrated through every inch of him. "I'm a sucker for roller coasters. I'm afraid you married a bit of an adrenaline junkie."

  "You want adrenaline, you should try to hold a Dolphin steady while you drop a rescue diver in the middle of thirty-foot swells and fifty-knot winds."

  He was addicted to her laugh, he discovered. "I believe I'll leave the daring rescues to you," she said.

  "This, from the woman who spent two weeks wandering through the Colombian countryside on her own, documenting rescue efforts after that earthquake a few years ago?"

  "Good heavens, how did you know about that? I never said a word to Shelly about that trip! She would have been terrified if she'd known."

  He wasn't sure how to answer. How much of his emotions would filter through whatever he said? "I might have tried to follow your career a little," he finally admitted.

  She was silent, the hum of the children's breathing and the tires spinning through the dark the only sound inside the vehicle. "Why?"

  Because I've been crazy about you for a decade.

  Of course he couldn't voice the thought, so he offered an answer that was true enough, just not the whole story. "Your photos move me. I can't explain it."

  Her eyes were wide, so huge he could see a rim of white around her pupils, but she said nothing.

  "And I suppose I thought that maybe if I looked at your work closely enough, I could find my way into your psyche," he went on. "I don't know. Maybe subconsciously I was hoping somehow I could figure out what I did to make you leave ten years ago."

  She reached out to touch his arm. "Oh, Tom. You didn't do anything! The reasons I left had nothing to do with you. Nothing!"

  "Then why won't you tell me why you couldn't wait to get away from Seal Point?" Frustration sharpened his voice. "I was falling in love with you, Sophie. I've never said that to another woman. Never had those feelings for another woman. I was falling in love with you and I would have been willing to swear on every Bible in California that you felt the same way."

  "I did," she whispered.

  "Then why leave?"

  "I can't…" Her voice broke off. "There were…circumstances. Circumstances that had nothing to do with you or my feelings for you. Please, can you let it go at that?"

  "I'd like to. But I have to
admit, part of me wonders what will happen if those circumstances, whatever the hell they were, come up again? Will you leave again? Walk away from me and the children this time?"

  "No! I told you I wouldn't leave. We're married now, Tom. That means something to me. And besides, the…the circumstances behind why I left won't happen again. They're gone now."

  He wished like hell that he could see more than just the profile of her delicate features in the dim greenish light inside the SUV. He wanted to search her eyes, to push her harder about what she was keeping from him.

  If he couldn't learn to trust her, how would they ever make this marriage work?

  "It was hard for me, Sophie. After you left, trying to figure out what happened."

  A thick tightness swelled in her throat at the pain in his voice. When she had left, intent only on fleeing Peter's unwanted touches and William's malice, she hadn't really thought Thomas would regret the abrupt end to their brief relationship.

  She had wronged him terribly, and she wished more than anything that she could tell him her reasons. Starting out with secrets festering between them wasn't a good beginning for any marriage, especially one on such a shaky foundation as theirs.

  "I'm sorry," she whispered.

  He was silent, probably waiting for her to add something else to what she knew was a grossly inadequate apology. Before she could think what she could tell him, Ali stirred in the back seat.

  "Are we almost home?"

  "Just about, pumpkin," Tom said after a brief pause. "Another mile or so."

  "Okay." She settled back against the seat and they drove in silence for a few moments then Ali spoke again. "Hey, you guys, thanks for taking us. I had lots of fun at the boardwalk, even if it was kind of a weird thing to do on your wedding day. Taking us all along, I mean."

  "We had fun too," Sophie answered. "We're a family now, Al. We do things together. That's what families are all about."

  "You know, I was really scared at first. After…after Mom and Dad died. About what would happen to us and everything, I mean. It's good to be a family again."

  Tears welled up in Sophie's eyes at the words. "It is, isn't it?" she said with a little sniff she couldn't control.

  To her surprise, despite their lingering tension, Tom reached out between them and grabbed her hand in a comforting squeeze. For the remainder of the drive, they stayed that way, with their fingers entwined and unanswered questions just below the surface.

  * * *

  Sophie closed the door to Ali's room softly behind her, certain the girl had drifted to sleep as soon as she had pulled the covers up to her chin. She turned in the darkened hallway toward the twins' room to check Tom's progress getting them into their pajamas.

  "Ali get to sleep okay?"

  She jumped at the voice coming from the dark.

  "Sorry," Tom said. "Didn't mean to startle you."

  "I wasn't expecting you to be finished with them already. Usually it takes twenty minutes just to get one of them into pajamas."

  "They're both beat. I think that's about the most subdued I've ever seen those two."

  "We make a pretty good team, don't we?"

  "Yeah. Yeah, we do." He paused. "Would you like a drink or something? Mrs. Cope left some champagne chilling downstairs for us."

  Heat soaked her cheeks, though she wasn't exactly sure why. She was glad it was too dim here in the hallway for him to be able to notice. "That was sweet of her."

  "The woman has worked here as long as I can remember and I have to admit, I never realized she had such a romantic soul."

  An awkward silence descended between them. Technically this was their wedding night. At last they were alone and suddenly she didn't know how to act, what to say. What he expected of her.

  "Champagne would be lovely," she said quickly.

  He led the way to the kitchen where they found a tray waiting for them with a single white rose in a Waterford vase, two elegant flutes and a magnum of fine champagne.

  He popped the cork and poured for her. "What should we toast to?"

  She mulled it over for a moment. "How about to new families and second chances?"

  His slow smile went a long way to calm her sudden nerves. "Perfect. To new families and second chances."

  She returned his smile and had only taken one small sip when he took the glass from her and set it down on the counter behind them, then his mouth replaced the flute against her lips.

  He tasted fizzy, heady, and made her as light-headed as if she'd consumed the entire magnum by herself.

  "I've been waiting all day to do that again," he murmured against her mouth.

  "I've been waiting ten years," she admitted softly.

  Something hot and dangerous kindled in his eyes and he kissed her again. She leaned into him, her arms around his neck, and desire exploded between them.

  With a groan, he nudged her back against the counter until she was caged by his body. His arms wrapped tightly around her, molding her curves to his hard strength, and his mouth tangled with hers again and again, until she was gasping and trembling with need.

  Even that close contact wasn't enough. With effortless ease, he lifted her onto the counter and stepped between her legs. The change in position brought his body into intimate, tantalizing contact with hers and shivery sensations cascaded through her wherever their bodies touched.

  His hand reached between their bodies and found the curve of one breast and she murmured his name on a gasp.

  He drew back at the sound and growled an oath. "We can't do this here. Anyone could walk in on us. Mrs. Cope, Maura, one of the kids."

  "We're married," she said somewhat breathlessly. "It's legal."

  "Maybe. But I prefer a little privacy, where I'm not likely to be interrupted just as we might be getting to the good parts."

  "They're all good parts, aren't they?"

  He laughed, a low husky sound that did delicious things to her nerve endings. "With you they are."

  She was still smiling as he kissed her again then her smile turned to a laughing gasp as he scooped her into his arms and carried her down the hall to his bedroom.

  The room was elegantly comfortable just like all the other rooms at Seal Point, with a four-poster bed and a small sitting area. It was lit only by a small stained-glass lamp burning above the fireplace mantel that sent colored shadows dancing around the room.

  She barely registered the furnishings or the play of light, too wrapped up in his kisses.

  "We forgot the champagne," she pointed out as he lowered her to the wide bed.

  "I don't think we need it, do you?" He slid a hand under the material of her shirt to explore the skin just above her waist.

  "Good point." She sucked in a shuddering breath as he deftly worked the buttons of her shirt. She wore only a lacy white cotton bra underneath and he drew it aside.

  "You're more beautiful than I remember," he murmured.

  "It was dark down on that beach. You couldn't have seen much."

  "The moon was bright enough to burn your image into my mind for a decade."

  He slid the shirt over her shoulders then cupped her with his powerful hands. She closed her eyes, rocked by the intensity of her need for him. His fingers moved over her skin, tantalizing, teasing, then he lowered his head and tasted her.

  With a small cry, she buried her fingers in his hair and held him close while his mouth and lips and tongue drove her crazy with need.

  Finally she couldn't endure the torment any longer. Her body ached and trembled and she yearned for closer contact. She tugged at his knit Polo shirt, impatient to feel him, but couldn't manage to pull it over the width of his shoulders.

  "Need a hand?" he asked, his breath warm and erotic against her nipple.

  "Yes, actually."

  "Semper Paratus. That's the Coast Guard motto, did you know that?"

  "Um, no." She blinked, a little disoriented by the direction of his conversation, especially when each word stirred more nerve
endings in her skin and made her nipples tighten and ache.

  "It means always ready."

  "That's a lot of pressure for a guy, isn't it?"

  He laughed. "Yeah, but we're up to it. If you need help, call on the Coast Guard."

  "Good to know. Thanks." Her voice was thready, breathless. "Could you please help me remove your shirt, Lieutenant?"

  He laughed and withdrew far enough to pull his shirt over his head and toss it to the floor. The rest of his clothes quickly followed. She only had a moment to sigh in appreciation of all those firm muscles before he returned and helped her out of her clothes.

  Now she was free to touch him, to learn his hollows and angles and textures as he learned hers. She wanted to spend forever right here. Ten years ago she had been young and unsure of herself, afraid to reveal her ignorance. This time she would take all the opportunities she missed that first time with him.

  They kissed and touched and explored until both of them were trembling with need. Finally, when she thought she would shudder apart if he didn't come inside her soon, he slid over her and suddenly there he was stretching her, filling her, devastating her.

  "Oh, my," she murmured, earning a strangled laugh from him.

  "Is that a good oh, my or a bad oh, my?"

  "It's a 'please-don't-stop' oh, my." She gasped as he moved inside her.

  "If I have to stop, I'm a dead man." He kissed her again and her hips rose to meet him. They moved that way, bodies and mouths intertwined, while primal need pulsed inside her like the ocean waves two hundred feet below, crashing and pounding at her until she couldn't think, couldn't breathe, could do nothing but drown in his arms.

  The waves crested higher and higher and she spiraled with them until he reached between their bodies and touched her. Her cry echoed in the room as she climaxed, holding tight to him. His body strained above her then he followed her, finding his own release.

  "Oh, my," she said again, boneless, weightless, as they floated with the tide.

  With a soft laugh, he rolled to her side, pulling her against him. She sighed her contentment as she settled against his hard length.

  She wanted to treasure this, being here with him again. To savor every second of it. Her love for him bubbled inside her like the champagne they'd had earlier and nearly spilled out but she held the words back, afraid to utter them.