A Valentine for Harlequin's Anniversary

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A Valentine for Harlequin's Anniversary Page 12

by Catherine Mann


  Turning to her, Vince gathered her into his arms, the scent of his spicy soap and the fresh air from their walk filling her senses as fully as he would soon fill her. The stroke of his hands as he backed her toward the looming bed left her dizzy. Waves rushed outside, echoing the shoosh, shoosh roar of her pulse in her ears—faster, harder, louder. Hmmm…delicious words to consider.

  Between fevered kisses and the tangling of tongues, she tore at his clothes with frantic hands that shook. And took delight in the fact that his hands seemed no less steady in sweeping aside her clothes.

  The cool night air brushed her skin, sending a trickle of self consciousness through her. What would he think of the changes in her body since they’d last been together? She’d lost much of her shape weeks ago.

  He didn’t leave her to wonder long. Vince cupped her chest and lord love him, he smiled. “Ahhhh, the breast fairy’s been to visit—and so generously too.”

  The breast fairy? A giggle slipped free, then dried right up as he lavished more attention with his hands and mouth, sending her brain on stun. At least her fingers worked just fine by instincts, savoring the hard planes of his shoulders, lower to cup his taut and awesome butt.

  His broad hands slid lower to cradle her stomach, tenderly, reverently. His eyes glinted with restrained tears. Tears, for goodness sake. How could she not melt? She linked her fingers with his and held him in place for a poignant moment, before he smiled, his eyes clearing.

  Then turning smoky, oh-so-smoky and heated and hungry. “I haven’t been with anyone since you, so it’s been a long time for me. I’m shaking I need you so damn much, and I don’t want to hurt you or the baby by being too rough.” He grin-grimaced. “Or too fast.”

  He hadn’t been with anyone else? Even with his deployment, she knew there would have been opportunities. That he didn’t act on them…she couldn’t think about the serious—and convoluted—implications overlong or they would start talking, maybe even arguing.

  And she so didn’t want to argue with Vince right now. “My doctor says we’re both healthy and that sex is fine. She even gave me a booklet with suggestions for accommodating positions when I get bigger.”

  His eyes lit. “Oh really? I like this doc already.”

  “How about we start with one of those positions right now?” She pivoted them around until his legs bumped the bed—and then shoved.

  Vince landed on his back, wonderfully naked and ready for her. She hitched a knee up on the mattress and swung her other leg over to straddle his hips. He reached to palm her breasts again, teasing the peaks tauter, tugging the thread of desire tighter within her.

  “Kenzie,” he groaned her name, his erection throbbing an undeniable invitation against her. “I missed you, missed this, us together, so damn much.”

  She held back the same words, but couldn’t contain her moan at the magic of his hands, the steely heat of him right there for the…taking. Her moan increased with every delicious inch of her glide down, her body welcoming him back inside with ripples of pleasure.

  And then he moved under her. How could she have forgotten the incredible sensation of his nerve-stroking thrusts? His rumbling litany of how much he wanted her and needed her, touched her with his words as thoroughly his talented hands caressing her.

  After being apart for so long, she knew she wouldn’t last long this time either. So fast, pleasure swelled through her like the releasing force of the crashing waves echoing outside their haven, intense, elemental, their shouts of completion twining as tightly as their bodies.

  Aftershocks gushing through her, she sagged onto Vince’s chest, his heart pounding under her ear, bristly hair tickling her cheek. And sheesh, her super-smart brain was failing her big time.

  Because she didn’t have a clue what she should say to Vince once the sweat dried on their sated bodies.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Watching the sunrise from their seaside cabin’s porch, Vince kept his arms loose around McKenzie as she leaned against his chest, silent. Not surprising.

  Their night of tantric, intense—and hell yeah, emotional—lovemaking had scrambled his brain as well. A seriously inconvenient thing, since he needed to keep a step ahead of the smartest woman he’d ever met.

  She caressed his hands where they rested over the swell of their child growing under her loose red cotton dress. “What an evening to remember,” she sighed. “What do you want to do for our seventh date?”

  Seventh date. Valentine’s Day. His last chance. “Tough to top what we had going for this past one.”

  She tipped her head up, smiling. “Our sixth date has definitely been the best so far.”

  With her feeling so right in his arms, their baby rolling under his hands, the scent of her still clinging to his skin—to his soul—he didn’t want to play at the dating game anymore. He wanted the real thing, and he was scared as hell if he gave her more time to think, she’d bolt.

  “Marry me. Please, Kenzie, don’t make me spend the rest of my life without you.”

  Her pretty blue eyes went wide, but her mouth stayed shut.

  He swallowed down his disappointment and resisted the urge to kick himself for rushing her. But he couldn’t pull the words back. “All right. You’re not saying no. A positive sign. Still could you clue me in about what’s going on in that gorgeous head of yours?”

  She worried her bottom lip between her teeth, finally releasing it, turning in his arms and sliding her arms around his waist. “I want to say yes.”

  Thank God. “You do? Then go for it, because I sure as hell want to hear that word.”

  “What about the Air Force?”

  “What about it? I already told you I’m getting out as soon as they’ll cut me loose.”

  Her eyes went serious—too serious. “Because you don’t want to worry me.”

  “Yes,” he rushed to reassure her. Maybe she only wanted to double check his intent. “And because I want to be there for you and our kid, and any other kids we might be blessed with in the future.”

  She smiled, her wise eyes somehow sad in contrast. “That’s so sweet, and I know you mean it.”

  “But…”

  “I want you, not this person you’re trying to turn yourself into.”

  “You want me? Well, ooh-rah! That’s a good thing, because I want you too and I’m working my ass off to show you.” And yeah, for a second he really did resent jumping through hoops for her. But he didn’t resent it enough to walk away. “Relationships are about compromise.”

  She cupped his face in gentle hands. “I’ve been married. I know all about compromise and working through troubles, but this isn’t about leaving the toilet seat up or who pays the bills or even about a job. This is about who you are. And you are a soldier—an airman—a man called to military service. It’s not what you do, it’s who you are. I think you need to make peace with that after the way you lost your father before you make any decisions about our future.”

  He forced himself to stay still and silent, when he wanted more than anything to shake her hands off and tell her she was wrong. He could make it work, because he wasn’t giving her up.

  “Yes, I’m terrified that something will happen to you, Vince. I’ve been through that hell once and,” she looked up, blinking fast before leveling her watery blue gaze back to him again, “and I pray I don’t have to live through it again. But life doesn’t come with any guarantees except that true love endures.”

  “Are you saying that you love me?” His heart lurched in his chest like during a full-out engine stall in mid air.

  “I’m saying I can only marry you if we love each other, real love and acceptance. If I’m going to trust you to love me for who I am, then you have to trust that I will love you for who you are.”

  Wait. She couldn’t actually mean she was okay with his job? And if she was, then why was he still dragging his feet? Could she be right that he needed to make peace with losing his father?

  He stared out over the o
cean as if answers might spew from the gushing tide. Instead, he saw only hungry gulls in search of breakfast and a patron opening a truck to leave. Truck. Right where he’d parked last night…What the hell?

  Someone was breaking into his pick-up.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “Get inside the cabin, McKenzie.”

  Vince’s order chilled her faster than the early morning wind off the ocean circling her body now that he’d stepped away. He might be pigheaded, but he was never rude. Something must be seriously wrong.

  “What’s going on?”

  “Somebody’s breaking into my truck.” He kept his gaze on the parking lot while reaching behind to open their cottage door.

  She shivered at the trickle of apprehension. “It’s just a car. Let him have it and we’ll call the cops.”

  “Or it could be the creep who’s been hassling you and if it is,” muscles bunched under Vince’s jeans and white T-shirt, “there’s not a chance in hell I’m letting him get away.”

  Without another word, Vince backed her inside and shut the door on his way out. All fear aside, she refused to let Vince face her stalker or a possible car jacker alone.

  But she wasn’t an idiot. She knew she had to be careful for the baby. Room phone in one hand, cell phone in the other, she called the front desk and 9-1-1, alerting both.

  Keeping the cell phone tucked to her ear, she raced onto the porch—to find Vince hauling a man out of the truck cab by his shirt. Panic burned along her skin as she looked around for a weapon to help if Vince needed her.

  Desperately she searched, and settled on a psychedelic skim board resting against the side of the next cottage. She’d beam the bastard upside the head if he harmed so much as one hair on Vince.

  Only vaguely aware of the people pouring from their cabins, McKenzie raced toward the truck and wrestling men. Her feet squeaked against the sand. Her eyes focused on Vince dodging a swing from the lean man he’d pulled free.

  Lightning fast, Vince pinned the towering man with a forearm to the neck, while he slowed the guy’s struggling with a fist to the gut.

  Panting, she screeched to a stop, recognition stilling her. “Judd?”

  The skim board slid from her fingers to thud on the sand. What was her coworker doing here? And beside Vince’s truck with a white sheet of paper in his hand?

  Realization kicked her harder than any soccer-player-to-be inside her belly. “You’ve been leaving those letters? And making the calls?”

  A vein throbbed in Vince’s temple. “Sure as hell looks that way.”

  Judd gasped, his puppy dog sweet eyes no so heart-tugging when bugging out with fear. “He doesn’t deserve you,” he spit the words out in a crazed echo of those e-mail headers on Vince’s computer. “He never did. I just wanted to be with you.”

  “You scared me to death.” She considered whomping him with the skim board anyhow.

  “But I never hurt you. I would never hurt you.” Judd sagged against the truck. “I only wanted you to ask for my help, to notice me. I left my wife for you and did you appreciate it? No—you started seeing this Cro-Magnon.”

  Vince growled. “Well, this Cro-Magnon knows better than to insult the man who has him in a neck-lock.”

  Judd ignored the menace in Vince’s voice and continued, “He has to be an idiot for dumping you, leaving you flat, never calling.”

  Vince’s brow furrowed, bar-hold across Judd’s throat loosening just long enough for the man to lunge. McKenzie screamed a warning. Vince slammed Judd against the truck again, face down on the hood this time, arm wrenched up behind his back.

  Judd jerked and kicked with insane frenzy. “I was the one to pass you a tissue when you cried your eyes out after he dumped you,” he babbled, his obsession showing with alarming clarity as a siren blared in the distance. “I was the one who passed you the whole damn box every time the news reported a helicopter crash. You only needed a push to lean on me. I would have given you what you need—a peaceful life.”

  Judd continued his litany of “adoration” and commiseration over her suffering during Vince’s deployment. Surely her pigheaded lover understood the man was unbalanced. And even if Judd’s accounting of her grief was true, everything was out of context.

  Still, she could see Vince soaking in every word about how frightened she’d been for him while he was overseas, undoubtedly confirming his fears of the military life being too painful for her to bear after losing her husband.

  Slowly, the light faded from the amazing, vibrant man she’d just begun to hope she could marry after all.

  Chapter Nineteen

  The next day, Vince stood in line at the flight meal kitchen, buying his boxed supper before take off for a routine fly around in his Pave Low to keep his stats current.

  Vacation over. The cupid holiday past. And still no promise from McKenzie to get married. Not that he’d asked her again after the debacle in the resort parking lot.

  Valentine’s Day had been an unmitigated bust in more ways than one. Judd had been hauled away by the cops and promptly locked in a pysch ward. Still, Vince couldn’t scavenge sympathy for the bastard after the hell he’d put McKenzie through.

  Even knowing the man was unhinged, Vince couldn’t get past what Judd had said during his frothing-at-the-mouth rant. McKenzie had been a basket case over his deployment even though he’d broken things off.

  By the time they’d finished at the police station, the day had been shot. Their great Valentine’s feast? McDonald’s carryout. They’d come full circle. Except this time they’d made sleepy slow love before retreating to separate sides of the bed. God, he didn’t need this messing with his head before a flight.

  Providing a welcome distraction, two other pilots joined him in line, friends. It was a small Air Force, the flying world even smaller. Filing in, they picked up their meals for their return night flights to their home bases—Bo Rokowsky, the cargo pilot who’d flown Vince’s parachuting mission a week ago and Joe Greco, a bud from helicopter training days.

  Bo reached for an extra apple for his meal. “A hang-dog look like that must mean you’re still having woman troubles.”

  Great. He even looked like a sap. “Do ‘ya think? And I’m fresh out of ideas.”

  “Ideas, I’ve got.” Bo grinned. Women loved Bo Rokowsky, all women, any age, which seemed to make the guy some kind of dating advice guru. “It’s not about the money or being extravagant. Where’s her favorite place to go?”

  McDonald’s. Foreign cuisine restaurants. Arena football games. Seaside walks. She was an amazingly diverse woman. “I already did all that.”

  Bo tossed extra napkins into the food box. “Does she collect something? Sometimes that can clue you in to what makes her tick?”

  “Hell, if I knew that I wouldn’t be in this mess.” Vince dug into his flight suit pocket for his wallet and passed bills to the cashier.

  Joe Greco followed with his fried chicken meal. “’Ya know there are books with suggestions. I keep ideas like that stored in my Palm Pilot along with my favorite jokes, so they’re right there when I need them.”

  Bo’s eye lit with a gleam that had earned him his bad-boy reputation. “I thought they outlawed those kinds of books in this state.”

  Vince cleared his throat. “I find it interesting that my love life is more fun for you guys than for me.”

  His face smoothing to serious, Joe clapped him on the shoulder. “Have you tried just being her friend? Friends can have the hots for each other too.”

  He’d thought McKenzie was his friend as well as lover. Heaven knew he’d missed talking to her as much as he’d missing making love to her—and that was a helluva lot. Forcing a smile, he asked, “If you two are so damn smart, how come you’re still single?”

  Joe shrugged. “The right one’s worth waiting for. Catch ‘ya later, dude.”

  Watching the two pilots amble away, Vince shuffled their words around in his head, while his in-flight meal grew heavy in his hands. Worth
waiting for? Hovering in a holding pattern wasn’t his style.

  But why risk it all just because he wanted things settled with McKenzie by a certain date and time?

  Well, hell. The answer had been there all along, not in a book, but in a simple shopping spree and walk along the beach. He was being an idiot by setting time limits and thinking love could only happen on Valentine’s Day in a romantic setting. Love should be timeless and not dependent on the setting.

  And ever-brilliant McKenzie was right. Real love was about being honest. She’d made a big sacrifice insisting he stay in the Air Force.

  It was time for him to give her what she needed as well. He would have to open up and let her inside his head—even though it scared the crap out of him to get that close, after seeing how his parents’ intense love had torn his mother apart afterward. Seemed that he was carrying around more baggage from his father’s death than he’d thought, something he needed to start working on—with McKenzie’s help.

  She was also right to insist they both live their lives to the fullest. Every day was a gift, and he now realized his mother wouldn’t have traded loving his old man, even to escape the heartache.

  He fished out his cell phone and dialed from memory, waiting for the pick up, praying she’d be there…Yes!

  “Hey, Ruthie? It’s Vince. Could you do me a favor and make sure McKenzie’s standing in her office parking lot in exactly three hours? I know that’s after work, but it’s really important.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Standing in the parking lot outside her office, McKenzie slumped to rest against the quarter panel of her car and tried not to be jealous of Ruthie and Carl’s happiness. So what if she was working after hours so they could have a date?

  Somebody had to wait for the delivery, so it might as well be her since Vince was working late tonight too. Their vacation week of dates and romance was officially over.

  So, she waited. And waited. Still no delivery truck. Nothing but the sound of cars on the road and aircraft in the sky. Planes and helicopters, which made her think of a certain pigheaded man. Strong man. Honorable man.

 

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