Luckily, the denim shirt, jeans, black boxer briefs and heavy wool socks could all go in one load. The snowy-white T-shirt and towel would have to go in another. Trying hard not to breathe in the stench, she pretreated the stains, added a detergent that was formulated for baby laundry and switched on the machine. Then she went to thoroughly wash her hands.
Wondering what she was going to give Wyatt to wear, which was maybe something she should have figured out before she had him strip down to nothing, Adelaide started back up the stairs.
Then went back down to get a fleece-lined navy lap blanket from the back of her sofa.
Halfway to the second floor of her cottage she realized two things. First, the shower had stopped. And second, in her urgency to get the river of baby vomit off him, she had neglected to give Wyatt something even more important.
A towel.
She hurried all the faster, reaching the upstairs hall and rounding the corner. Wyatt, never one to stand around waiting to be rescued, had quietly begun his own search for the linen closet. Never mind he was dripping wet and smelling of her lavender shampoo, from head to toe, his only clothing a pale pink washcloth that had already been in the shower, held like a fig leaf over his privates.
The ridiculousness of the scene, the sheer unpredictability of their situation, coupled with the sight of all those sleek, satiny muscles beneath the whorls of hair covering his tall body, had her catching her breath.
Memories flashed.
Laughter bubbled up in her chest.
He grinned, too—sheepishly now. But blissfully, kept his hand, and the washcloth, modestly in place.
That, too, hit her, hard.
The laughter came out.
Wilder now.
Uncontrollable.
Then, just as swiftly, turned into loud, wrenching sobs.
The kind that could wake her babies.
Tears streaming down her face, hand pressed against her mouth, smothering the increasingly hysterical sounds, Adelaide stumbled into the master bedroom.
The next thing she knew Wyatt’s hands were on her shoulders. Warm. Soothing. He was spinning her around, pulling her close, wrapping his arms around her, holding her tight. And still she cried, and laughed, and cried some more. Her emotions spinning as out of control as her life.
She lifted her head, opened her mouth to jerk in a breath. And then his lips were on hers, drawing her in, and she was as lost in him as she had ever been.
* * *
HIS EMOTIONS JUST as out of control as Adelaide’s, Wyatt folded the woman who had once been so much a part of his life, even closer. She was soft and vulnerable, feisty and sweet, and when it came to any sort of reconstituted relationship between them, stubbornly resistant as all get out. Yet when he held her in his arms, kissed her with such fierce abandon, she was all yearning, malleable woman. And right now he wanted her that way.
Not laughing and crying as if her world were splintering apart. Not angry and confused at the unexpected twist their lives had taken. And definitely not as furious as he had been since the last time they’d spent a night together, just under a year ago. When she had finally gotten the courage to make love with him. And then left him again anyway.
He didn’t ever want her to feel as gut-punched as he had, when he had discovered she had chosen to have a baby with an anonymous donor rather than risk having a family with him.
Only to find out what he had wanted all along had come true anyway.
The undeniable fact was that after all this time he still wanted her, wanted this. Wanted the chances they’d never had. Most of all, he wanted to take advantage of the gifts they had been given. The kids. And through them, another chance, this time to get it right...
He’d half expected her to offer some resistance, even if it was only token. He ran a hand down her spine, pressing his hardness into the softness of her body.
She moaned at the onslaught of pleasure engulfing them both. Lifting his mouth from hers, he strung kisses along her jaw, her nape, the open vee of her blouse.
Lifting her arms to wreathe his shoulders, she pressed against him and kissed him back with a wildness beyond his most erotic dreams. Went up on tiptoe, her hands sliding down his spine, lower, lower still.
His body throbbing, he felt her end the kiss and then watched her step back. Damn if she wasn’t the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.
Pink cheeks still wet with tears, dark eyes glowing, she sucked in an impatient breath and shimmied her skirt down her thighs. Toed off her suede flats and stripped off her tights.
He caught her hand before she could remove her blouse, undo the clasp of her bra. “Let me.”
Her breath stalled. Holding her arms akimbo, she said softly, her eyes still holding his. “If you insist...”
Oh, he insisted all right.
Her blouse went the way of her skirt, and her skin felt soft and silky beneath his fingers.
Whole body thrumming with need, he undid the clasp and eased her ivory bra down her arms. Her breasts were fuller than he remembered, taut and round, the nipples rosy and erect. She wore matching panties that were slung low across her hips.
He hooked his thumbs into either side of them and tugged them down. Past the damp curls, her sleek thighs, past her knees. She gasped as he lowered her to the edge of the bed, parted her knees with his hands and buried his face in her sweet warm softness.
“Wyatt...” She caught his head in her hands, quivering now.
“Shhh.” He found his way to the feminine heart of her. “Busy here.”
She laughed softly. Shakily, as if on the verge of a new flood of tears.
Determined to help her find the release she sought, he dropped butterfly kisses, slow and deliberate.
She shuddered again but did not resist as he ran his thumb along the feminine seam, coaxing her to let all her worries, all her inhibitions float away, to open for him even more. She whimpered low in her throat and gave him full rein. He suckled the silky nub and stroked inside her, fluttering his tongue, until she caught his head in her hands and let her thighs fall even farther apart.
She quivered as he cupped her bottom with both hands, lifted her farther back on the mussed sheets of her bed. Pausing only long enough to grab the condom he carried in his wallet, he covered her and penetrated her slowly. She closed around him like a wet, hot sheath, her entire body shivering with need.
Feeling a little like the conqueror who had just captured the fair maiden of his dreams, he kissed her again, slowly tenderly, even as she draped her arms and legs around him and arched up to meet him. Her response, as true and unashamed as he always hoped it would be, he plunged and withdrew, aware of every soft whimper of desire, every wish, every need.
Until there was no more holding back for either of them.
She came apart in his hands. He free-fell right after her. Together they spiraled into ecstasy, and then slowly, breathlessly returned to the most magnificent peace Wyatt had ever known.
For long moments they held each other tightly, still shuddering, breathing hard. Loving the warmth and softness of her, he rolled so he was on his back. Stroking one hand through her hair, he held her nearer still.
Finally she lifted her head, and her hand came to rest in the region of his heart, even as a wry smile curved her kiss-swollen lips.
“So,” she whispered with unexpected playfulness. Ready to do what she always did, which was downplay the import and strength of their connection. “Is this part of our conscious uncoupling, too?”
Chapter Five
“We’re really going to throw that term around, as pertaining to us?” Wyatt asked lazily, doing his best to ignore the disappointment churning in his gut.
He knew Adelaide wasn’t the least bit romantic. She had made that clear to him numerous time
s. Part of it was the way she had grown up, with a family that didn’t seem to know the first thing about love.
Another was the linear nature of her chosen profession—as an accountant, numbers either added up or they didn’t, and if they didn’t, there had to be a concrete reason.
The rest was her unwillingness to forgive him for pushing her into an elopement she clearly wasn’t ready for when they were kids, and letting her talk him into a reckless consummation years later, when he had known, deep in his gut, she hadn’t been ready for that, either.
And tonight they’d done it again.
Made love on a reckless whim. For a whole host of reasons, all of them, obviously, in her retrospective view, wrong. Which likely meant, deep down, she was mad at him. Again. Even if she wouldn’t let herself admit that, either.
Adelaide extricated herself from his arms, and grabbing a velvety pink blanket, wrapped it around her as she rose from the bed. “Conscious uncoupling is what we’re doing.”
He thought about how she looked and felt when she was on the brink, and, despite his effort to be the gentleman he’d been raised to be, got hard all over again.
He waggled his brows. “Funny, that felt more like coupling to me.”
“Ha, ha.” Adelaide grinned and tossed her head. “And you know what I mean. We have to figure out a way to get along with each other and peacefully co-parent. This—” she waved a hand down the length of her body, then his, before pulling on her bra and panties once again “—can only get in the way of that.”
Aware he had nothing to put on save the washcloth he’d utilized earlier, he lounged in the mussed sheets of her bed. “Or make things more pleasant for both of us. After all, we’re both healthy human beings in our prime. We have needs.”
Bypassing her skirt, she walked to the closet and plucked out a pair of jeans.
He got even more aroused as he watched her draw them seductively up her long, sleek legs.
She wrinkled her nose and met his eyes with her own. A flicker of vulnerability shone in the dark chocolate depths. “Are you seriously using that line on me?”
Wyatt lay back on the pillows and folded his arms behind his head. His pulse amped up as she drew another quick breath. “I admit this isn’t an itch that needs to be scratched on a regular basis unless I’m with you. Then...” He watched her draw a sweater over her head, only to get it briefly twisted up over the soft luscious curves of her breasts. “I’ll be honest. I do want to forget being celibate.” He paused, thinking about how passionately she had responded to him. How sweet and seductive she still looked now. “Can you honestly tell me you don’t feel the same?”
* * *
ADELAIDE LOOKED AT the expression on his handsome face, the rock-hard muscles on his tall, broad-shouldered frame. A whisper of need swept through her, followed swiftly by a yearning that went soul deep.
“You’re right. Normally I’m so busy I don’t even have time to think about sex. Not the way I do when I’m with you,” she admitted with a reluctant shake of her head, “and then...”
All common sense was gone.
His eyes drifted possessively over her. “It’s chemistry. Right?”
She ran a brush through her hair, restoring order to the silky waves, but could do nothing about the just loved glow of her skin. Flushing, she snatched up the thick shearling-and-velour lap blanket she’d brought up for him and tossed it to him. “Unfortunately, given the fact we’re all wrong for each other and you’re probably never going to forgive me, yes.” She turned her back as he took the hint and rose reluctantly.
“Forgive you for what?” His wheat-blond brow furrowed.
Adelaide led the way to the decidedly less intimate first floor. “Not figuring out what my father was doing before he stole millions from the Lockhart Foundation.”
Wyatt followed, blanket wrapped around his waist. “None of us had a clue about that, Addie, until it was too late,” he said softly.
There he went with his nickname for her again. There he went, looking at her like he loved her again.
Ignoring the quivering sensation low in her belly, Adelaide pushed on to the laundry room.
“Or getting cold feet the time we eloped.” She plucked his clothes out of the washer and tossed them into the dryer. She caught a drift of his scent, as she leaned past him to punch the speed dry button. He smelled like soap and sex and lavender-scented bed sheets.
He shrugged, as if he’d suddenly found a way to let all that go. His gaze tracked hers, serious now. “We were way too young to even be considering marriage.”
True, but...
She recited another reason he would never completely forgive her. “Botching up the annulment.”
An affable grin deepened the crinkles around his eyes. “We hired the wrong lawyer. That was all.”
He hadn’t been this understanding four days ago.
She recited her most unforgivable sin of all. “Sleeping with you in Aspen without first telling you I already had plans to have a family alone?”
With a satisfied grin, he pulled her into his arms and held her close. “If you hadn’t done that, I wouldn’t be the father to twins,” he said, his smoky blue gaze skimming her intently. “Jake and Jenny would be yours, not ours.” He sifted a hand through her hair, tenderly cupped the side of her face. “And neither of us would have any clue just how good we are together, in bed—and possibly out.”
Resisting the crazy urge to make love with him all over again, right here in the laundry room, she splayed her hands across the hard musculature of his bare chest. “It sounds suspiciously like you’re about to let bygones be bygones.”
“On two conditions,” he declared.
Struggling to regain her equilibrium, she took a step backward and inhaled a shaky breath. “I’m listening.”
He moved closer once again, dimples appearing on either side of his wide smile. “You forgive me for being a jackass where you’re concerned, for most of the last ten years.”
Her heartbeat quickened at the unexpected culpability in his low tone. She thought about the kisses they had shared and how quickly he had rocked her world. Again. She drew a bolstering breath. Swallowed to ease her parched throat. “I think I can do that.”
He lightly caressed the back of her hand. “And we agree not to lie to each other or keep things from each other from now on.” He paused to let his words sink in. His expression turned calm, inscrutable. “I’m serious, Addie. Because I can’t do this on-off again thing or have you run away and put a stop sign in front of your heart again. Like you did in Vegas. And Aspen,” he told her quietly, gaze narrowing. “I don’t want to feel like I’m not good enough for you to hitch your future to.”
Not good enough! Was he kidding her?
“Where did you get that idea?” Adelaide retorted, unsure whether it was emotion or nerves causing her to respond so emotionally.
Looking impossibly manly with only a blanket knotted around his waist, he shrugged. “You were obviously holding out for something back then.” Folding his arms in front of him, he braced his legs a little farther apart. “I kind of didn’t think it was something worse than what I had to offer.”
“Don’t joke around,” Adelaide said harshly.
Their eyes met and held for a breath-stealing moment. An expression she couldn’t read passed across his face.
“Look, I’m okay if you don’t love me. I’m not sure I love you anymore, either, or even if I ever did, but I have never stopped wanting you, or wanting to be with you. And if we are going to be together like this, then we have to be all in or all out,” he warned, with a tone edged in steel. “Otherwise, I’m going to feel played again and resent you. And the tension between us will be unbearable—and that would be bad for the twins.”
He was right about that.
Th
ey did need to be honest about what they each desired. Mindful of not just the twins’ welfare, but their own feelings, as well.
“All right. I’m all for a physical relationship with you while we are living together. As long,” Adelaide said, lifting a cautioning hand, “as it is a bed buddies, no-strings type of thing.”
He studied her. “That’s what you want?”
No, but it was realistic.
So she would settle for that. Because she had no other choice.
Not trusting her voice, Adelaide nodded.
The reserve was back in his stormy eyes, along with lingering desire. “And one other thing,” he said gruffly.
Her heart skittered in her chest.
She braced herself. “Yes?”
“If you have reservations about anything, I want you to tell me, and I promise I will do the same.”
“Okay.”
As for the rest...
The fact someone had been posting crazy messages on her social media pages, pretending to be her father, and then deleting them as soon as she’d read them...well, she didn’t want to go into all that. There were some things that did not bear discussing. Not anymore. Not if they were going to have the peace they all desired.
* * *
“WHAT ALL IS going on the truck?” the two local movers asked Adelaide late the following morning, as she cradled Jenny in her arms.
“Everything from the nursery, including the two cribs, changing tables slash dressers, and rocker glider. And...?” Adelaide turned to Wyatt, who was holding Jake. “Do you have a guest bed at Wind River?”
“No.”
The thought of them sharing sheets every night was definitely too much, too soon. She wanted them to be co-parents—not feel married. Even though, of course, technically they still were.
“Room for one?”
He tracked the pulse throbbing in her throat. Grinned. “Yes.”
A self-conscious flush flooding her face, she swung back to the movers. “You’ll also need to bring my bed. And all the assorted baby gear I’ve stacked in the living room.”
The Texas Valentine Twins Page 5