They looked so cute together. It would be so easy to let her imagination run wild, to fantasize about a future that involved Dean. He would be such a good dad. Not every man had those instincts, least of all any man she’d ever met. Dean didn’t even seem to realize this about himself.
But fantasies like that belonged in romance novels. Real life didn’t come with guarantees. Real life was cruel. Counting on someone else to stick around and play happily ever after only led to disappointment. Shannon had learned that the hard way. She wasn’t going to fall for it again. She tore her gaze away from the cozy scene, shutting out the fantasy trying to take root in her heart.
“I’m only here for a few more days. If you don’t take advantage of that and go out with your gorgeous neighbor, you are a fool.”
Catherine spoke quietly but purposefully in her ear. Shannon didn’t need to turn to see the stubborn set to her mother’s jaw. She just knew that it was there, the expression that was on her mother’s face. That “don’t-mess-with-me” look had gotten Shannon to do her chores, finish her homework, anything that Catherine expected of her daughter, without argument. It was for her own good, of course.
“Mom, I’m not a kid anymore. You can’t tell me what to do.”
“You know that’s not what I’m trying to do. I’m pushing you out of your comfort zone and you don’t like it.” She sat down opposite Shannon. “Tell me you don’t want to go out with him.”
“We don’t have a future.”
“I’m not talking about the future. I’m talking about one night, alone, no kids. Go catch a movie. Go skinny dipping at the pond. Go back to his place and have your wicked way with him. Be happy. Be a woman, Shannon. Enjoy some one on one time. Enjoy . . . Dean.”
“Oh, my God, Mother!”
Now it was all she could do not to picture Dean naked. This was too much! She was going to kill the woman . . . right after she took advantage of her babysitting services so she could go out with her neighbor. Or stay in. Great. Now she was a ticking time bomb. A drooling, ticking time bomb who couldn’t stop picturing her next door neighbor naked.
Chapter Sixteen
“Do you have any wine?”
Shannon stood in the doorway, nearly soaked to the skin from her jog through the rain. Shivering in front of him, she clutched a picnic basket with white knuckles. Dean held the door open, waited while she crossed the threshold, and peered out to see if the triplets were with her.
“Wouldn’t you rather have some coffee? Or tea? You must be freezing.” He took the basket from her and started to head back to the kitchen.
“Wine would be a more appropriate date beverage.”
Her words stopped him in his tracks and Dean turned to spear her with a heated stare. Shannon swallowed hard, standing tall. Her chin was tipped up, her eyes sparking. He was confused. Had they made some kind of plans that he’d forgotten? No. If they had planned a date he would definitely remember.
“Who’s watching the kids?”
They were standing in the hallway, the narrow confines suddenly feeling even more cramped. Dean rubbed the back of his neck with a hand. It might be pouring outside, but the house suddenly felt like the inside of a furnace. Or maybe it was just him.
“My mother. She’s leaving tomorrow.” She dropped her gaze to the buttons on the front of Dean’s shirt. “I was told I should take advantage of this opportunity.” There went the bottom lip between her teeth.
“Ah, I knew I liked your mom.” He took a step closer. “So you brought me dinner?”
“I was going to cook for you. I’d planned to bring the ingredients and maybe give you a cooking lesson.”
Dean cocked an eyebrow, waiting.
“But they’re talking about possible power outages, especially along the coast. I figured we could have a picnic in front of the fire, just in case we lose electricity.”
That heat surrounding them in the hallway went from blazing to inferno. Dean hoped he wasn’t visibly sweating. He watched Shannon’s throat bob as she swallowed. He liked making her react. He liked knowing he affected her on a sexual level.
“Then, by all means, let’s get a fire started.” He smiled wickedly when her eyes went wide as saucers.
“But the lights are on. We can still eat at the table.” Shannon tried to tug the picnic basket from Dean’s grasp.
He covered her hand on the basket’s handle with one of his. Leaning in close he spoke softly in her ear, his words low and gruff.
“I thought this was a date. If this is the kind of date I think we’re talking about, then it calls for a fire in the fireplace. Wouldn’t you agree?”
He was glad she was here, but he wanted to make sure they were on the same page. This was Shannon’s chance to keep the tone of the evening lighthearted and casual. Please say yes. He held his breath, his eyes riveted to her plump red lips.
“I . . . it does, yes.”
“But?”
“No, no buts. I’m nervous, is all. It’s silly. I haven’t been on a date for a very long time.”
Dean appreciated that she didn’t mention Vince’s name. She was trembling in her damp clothes. He needed to get that fire cranked up. He took her by the hand and pulled her with him into the cozy den. There was a fireplace in the more formal living room, but the space was so huge that Shannon would have to wait much longer for the heat to soak in.
He grabbed a thick throw off the Lazy Boy and laid it out in front of the fireplace. With a flick of a switch, a gas-lit fire whooshed to life. Ah, modern conveniences! Shannon didn’t wait for an invitation; slipping her shoes off at the door, she scooted across the blanket and reached her hands up close to the glass surface of the fireplace.
“Oh, this is . . . heavenly.” Her sigh sent tiny electric shocks straight to his groin.
“I’ll go get that wine,” he croaked, walking stiff-legged to the kitchen.
Dean grabbed a couple of wine glasses from the cupboard and set them on the center island. He’d had this foolish grin on his face ever since he’d answered his door to find the wet, bedraggled woman shivering on his doorstep. Did she realize how huge this was for her? She was finally putting herself first.
Contemplating a dry Chardonnay and a bold Cabernet Sauvignon, Dean put them both back. Shannon’s mother was leaving tomorrow. This was their only chance to spend some time without the kids. They were going to celebrate. He dug out the champagne he’d been saving to celebrate winning the paternity suit and popped the cork.
Did he have champagne flutes? Would she care? Dean tamped down the anxious flutters in his stomach and told himself not to find excuses to delay joining Shannon by the fire. He snatched up the glasses he’d already set out and carried everything to the den.
Shannon had opened the picnic basket and was setting out plates. Dean settled down beside her, sneaking a peek into the basket. She pulled out a plastic container of strawberries, as red as her lips. Dean swallowed. She handed him a serving spoon and a larger container. He tugged at the corner and sniffed. A light vinaigrette. Cold pasta salad with grape tomatoes, olives, and cucumbers.
It was like some magical basket, with no bottom. Shannon was still taking out containers and placing them on the blanket. How they all fit in there, he couldn’t figure it out. A cheese platter. Assorted types of crackers. Bite size brownies. Dean had to resist snatching one of those before they’d even eaten their main meal.
He realized she’d finished and was sitting back, watching him expectantly. She handed him an empty plate. Licking his lips, Dean began to pile it with goodies. He plucked a strawberry from the container, picturing himself feeding it to Shannon, and almost dropped it. Easy, boy!
“Like I said, I was trying to think of something we wouldn’t need the stove for. I hope you like everything.”
“Are you kidding? I was going to sit down and watch the game with a bowl of Lucky Charms.”
“Oh, my gosh! I didn’t even think. I’m keeping you from the game. I should go.”
She nodded shyly and went back to filling her own plate. They ate quietly, for the most part. Dean stifled a groan when Shannon sucked on the tip of her finger to clean off some dressing. She nibbled at crackers, while he popped them in his mouth whole.
“Tell me what it was like growing up in Scallop Shores. What’s winter like in Maine? Is it as bitter cold as we hear about in California? What’s it like to live through a hurricane?”
Shannon angled her feet toward the fireplace, wiggling her bare toes. She accepted the sparkling wine from Dean, sneezing when she stuck her nose too close to the bubbles in her glass. Then she giggled.
“Scallop Shores can get pretty boring in winter. When I was growing up, we lived closer to town. The boys on our road would play hockey as soon as the ice on the pond was safe. There was a girl a few years older than me. Wynter. I know . . . ironic. We were the only girls out there on the pond. She was so patient, letting me tag along with her everywhere. She taught me to ice skate.
“Then there were the big hills out on the golf course. We used to love to race each other down on sleds. After a good snowfall, I swear I’d see half the town out there. Living out here on the Bluff, when the roads get icy and snowy, it’s best to just stay put.”
“Should I buy a snowmobile? Can you teach me to drive one?” He was only half-joking.
“Wouldn’t be a bad idea.” Shannon chuckled.
They drank their champagne and watched the flames dance in front of them, blue at the bottom and getting brighter and lighter as they reached the top. Shannon began to gather up the dirty dishes and pack them back into the picnic basket. Dean hurried to help, hoping his eagerness wasn’t as pathetically obvious as he figured it was.
He picked up the basket and set it off to the side, away from the blanket. Then he got up and pulled some big pillows from their hiding place inside a large ottoman. He carried them to the blanket and set them up so they could both lean back and enjoy the view of the fire.
Refilling his wine glass, then hers, Dean realized he was putting off the inevitable. He was nervous. It had been a long time since he’d been with a woman. He’d had his pick. He could have been like the other guys, enjoying the perks of the job and sleeping with a different woman every night. Maybe he was just weird, but he didn’t like the way girls threw themselves at him.
Call him traditional, but Dean liked to be the one to initiate intimacy. Then why did it thrill him so much that Shannon had just shown up like this? They both knew what they were expecting. Truthfully, he was probably looking for something a little more permanent than she was. God, this was crazy! Shannon had him crawling out of his skin with want for her. He just didn’t get this hot and bothered over women. He had more self-control than that. Well, he used to.
Shannon leaned back against the pillows and stretched her long legs out. Skimpy cut-off jeans accentuated her golden summer tan. Dean could no longer think coherently. His whole body was beginning to throb in time to his pulse. He needed to kiss her. He needed to touch her. He needed to be inside her.
• • •
She hoped he didn’t realize how fast she’d guzzled that last glass of wine. Shannon swallowed hard and stretched out her legs, trying, for all the world, to look like a relaxed, carefree woman. Play the seductress, she thought. Then just as quickly she wondered, What does a seductress do? She fought the urge to get up and call the whole evening off.
“I’m really glad you came over.” Dean reached down for one of her hands, rubbing his thumb over the knuckles.
“I was afraid you’d think I was too forward.”
“That would imply that this was all a calculated plan on your part.” He squeezed her hand and smiled softly. “I get the feeling that it took a lot for you to be here tonight.
She should have felt embarrassed that Dean had seen through her so easily. Instead, his smile set her at ease, made her want to stay. He offered to refill her champagne again but Shannon shook her head. She didn’t want to be fuzzy-brained. She wanted to remember this night.
He stood up, carrying the bottle and both wine glasses over to a small table, out of the way. Shannon watched his movements, the way his muscles bunched beneath his shirt and his soft-as-butter jeans. She knew the moment he caught her watching, but she continued to look her fill. When she got to his eyes she shuddered.
Dean knelt down in front of her, holding her gaze captive. His irises were dark, full of passion. She wet her lips and snuck a peek at his mouth, that full bottom lip just begging to be sucked on. She was shaking, she realized. Whether from fear or need, she wasn’t certain.
“You can trust me.”
There he went, reading her mind again. She took a deep breath and held it, reaching out to cup his cheek in her hand. His face was rough, stubble scratching her palm. She gasped when he took her hand and placed a soft, slow kiss into the center. She let her breath out on a long sigh.
“Wait! I brought something.” Shannon reached into the pocket of her cut offs and pulled out a foil wrapper.
“Only one? Well, now I’m disappointed,” Dean teased.
Shannon’s cheeks flamed as he took the condom from her shaky fingers and laid it on the blanket. She hated that she felt so awkward, so unschooled in the ways of lovemaking. If this was going to be the only chance they had, at least for a very long time, then she wanted to make it as perfect as possible.
He moved in close, nuzzling her neck and pulling her against him at the same time. Shannon shivered as his fingers skidded up her bare arms, raising goose bumps as well as her body temperature. Their mouths fused, lips searching, tongues tangling. She felt drunk with power, feminine power, when raking her nails down his back elicited a deep, rumbling moan. She wanted to see what else he liked.
Emboldened, she reached for the top button on his shirt and undid it, revealing warm golden skin that just begged to be kissed. All doubts aside, Shannon continued to undress Dean, letting go just long enough for him to pull her damp t-shirt over her head.
Just as he was lowering them both to the floor, thunder boomed loud enough to shake the walls, and the electricity went out. They froze for a few seconds, never breaking eye contact. The flickering flames from the gas fireplace gave off the only light in the room. She couldn’t have asked for a better way to set the mood.
Dean finished removing their clothing. Shannon held out her arms for him. They lay side by side on the blanket and she sensed he was giving her a chance to chicken out. She stretched a thigh out, covering his leg, and brushed it higher and higher still. Dean closed his eyes, a wicked smile on his face.
“Do you know how long I’ve wanted to find out if you taste as sweet as you smell? Wild strawberries. It’s been driving me crazy.” His tongue swept out to lave her collarbone. “Mm . . . even better.”
She squirmed beneath him, realizing with a bashful horror where he intended to take those dizzying licks. She dug her fingers into his longish locks, trying to slow his descent so she could talk him out of it. It wasn’t right. Vince had never . . . Oh! He tugged a taut nipple into his mouth and the suckling sensation drove all coherent thought from Shannon’s brain.
“Dean,” she whispered, her back arching to offer more of her breast to his greedy mouth.
He switched to the other side, not stopping until her left breast was just as achy and tingling as the right. Dean had been distracting her, knowing her better than she knew herself. Now he continued on his journey south and she was a puddle of sparking nerve endings who couldn’t lift a finger to stop him, even if she wanted to.
“So much sweeter,” he murmured against her fevered skin.
His tongue drove her to frenzied heights, causing her to cry out in ecstasy. She hadn’t even known pleasure like this was possible. Her body was singing Dean’s praises.
She was start
led to realize that he’d awakened some sort of monster. She couldn’t get enough. Her body still thrumming from the aftershocks of a shattering release, Shannon needed more. She needed to feel him stretch her, fill her. She would beg if need be.
“Please.” Her voice was a keening whine that held no resemblance to anything she’d uttered previously in her life.
His answer was immediate, rising up to cover her body with his own. She cried out as their bodies joined, clutching him tightly to her. She wanted to sob, with relief, with need, with a surge of emotion she didn’t quite know how to express. They moved together as one, their bodies working in perfect syncopation. He anticipated her needs before she could vocalize them. She knew, by his soft grunts, his tensed muscles, and his unfocused eyes that she was giving as good as she got.
They both reached the pinnacle of pleasure nearly simultaneously. Dean cupped her face in his hands, locking that emerald gaze with hers. She’d trusted him with her body, and now she knew it would be all too easy to trust him with her heart.
Afterward, she lay with her head pillowed on his chest. She listened to the heavy drumming, slowly returning to a normal rhythm. Lightning flashed outside, the room still only illuminated by the gas lit fireplace. Shannon smiled the sleepy, slow smile of a woman well satisfied.
She spared a brief thought for the triplets, now fast asleep in their beds, safely watched over by their grandmother. This moment was hers. All these years, she had always thought that she would regret sharing herself with anyone but her children. But she was wrong. Maybe she’d been waiting all this time for Dean.
“What are you thinking about?” His words tickled her ear as she heard them reverberating through his chest.
“I’m happy. I put myself first and the world didn’t stop.”
“Well, we did blow out the electricity.” He tickled his fingers slowly down her bare back.
Hearts Are Wild Page 35