by Jo McNally
Very few people had been up the mountain in recent years. The occasional contractor he’d hired for things like wiring and plumbing. Michael, of course. Dan. Blake Randall once. But never a woman. Never this woman. It mattered far more to him than it should that Nora like this house.
She shivered, and he kicked himself. He kept the furnace set just high enough to keep the pipes from freezing, which wasn’t warm enough for a cold, wet woman. He moved to the fireplace, where logs were stacked and ready.
He lit the fire without saying a word, then went to the bookshelves he’d built to one side of the fireplace and pulled down a bottle of cognac. He had no glasses in the bedroom, so he took a drink straight from the bottle and handed it to her. She took it, drinking down several swallows before returning it. She looked around the room and gave a heavy sigh. He couldn’t take her silence any longer.
“What are you thinking, Nora? What’s wrong?”
“There’s nothing wrong. I mean, the house is gorgeous. It could easily be in Architectural Digest someday. And the setting is incredible.” She looked out over the lake, now shining blue under sunshine that had chased away the rain temporarily. “But all these years, Asher. And it’s still unfinished. Were you planning on living here with your family? Is that why you let it sit?”
He pretended to study the view outside.
“I planned on a lot of things that never happened.”
She looked around. “It’s such an empty shell. There’s no life here. There’s no feeling of family or love or...”
His defenses rose. “Stop. It’s a building. Wood and nails and stone. It doesn’t have a personality.”
“Maybe not. But a home reflects its owner. And this place is frozen in time, just like you are.”
“Don’t psychoanalyze me, Nora.”
She huffed in response. “It doesn’t take a psychoanalyst to see what you’re doing.”
He wasn’t sure what annoyed him most. The fact that she’d said the words or the fact that they were undeniably true. She stared into the fire, which was now crackling nicely and warming up the room.
He looked around, trying to see the place through her eyes. Dusty, unfinished and colorless. Except for the woman who stood right in front of him. Her hair was drying in dark twisting waves. His blue flannel shirt hung off her shoulders, exposing her bright knit top and the green apron she still wore over her jeans. The fire, and perhaps her temper, had turned her cheeks cherry red.
Nora was a burst of color and life, and the contrast between her and the surroundings was almost too much to bear. He didn’t realize he’d moved closer until she turned her head and looked up at him, her lips parting just enough to capture his full attention.
“Still got that bottle handy?” Her question surprised him, but it was better than her telling him to back off. She took the bottle and drank deeply, blowing out a breath as the liquid warmed her insides. Her eyes never left his, deepening from gold to dark bronze.
The woman poked and prodded at him until he was ready to lose his freaking mind. She got under his skin and into his head until he couldn’t think clearly. She was dangerous. He set the bottle on the mantel and flinched in surprise when her hand touched his back. He turned, and her mouth trembled ever so slightly. The tip of her tongue moved across her bottom lip, moistening it and freezing him in place.
“You and I are quite the pair, aren’t we?”
“How so?”
“We’re complete opposites. I criticize you for being frozen in the past.” He braced himself for a lecture he really didn’t need. “But who am I to say anything, when I live only for the future? I spend all my time planning for tomorrow, next week, next month, next year. I set goals and figure out how to get there, and the end goal is all that matters. Get our finances in order. Get Becky through school. Plan her dream trip to England. Even now, I’m planning for the baby and setting goals for the business. My cousin Bree was right. When do I start living for myself? When do I start living for today?”
He pulled her into his arms, and she moved against him as if it was the most natural place for her to be, resting her cheek on his chest and sliding her hands around his waist. He waited, knowing she wasn’t finished working this out in her head.
“Cathy had a poster in the café that I thought was so stupid. She was mad when I didn’t hang it back up after I remodeled. It said that life is about the journey, not the destination.”
He nodded, his chin resting on her head. He remembered the poster—it used to hang right behind the cash register.
Nora tipped her head back, looking up at him with wide eyes. “But maybe that poster is right. Maybe it is about the journey, about living in the moment, and I’ve been doing it wrong all this time! Maybe you and I both need to live in the moment, instead of looking backward or forward.”
Her hands twisted in his shirt, and she moved her body tightly against his. There was no way she could miss his physical response, and she gave him a playful grin. “What do you think, Asher? Do we need to live in the moment, you and I?”
He pressed his lips against her forehead just long enough to dismiss the last of his doubts, answering right before he kissed her mouth, so soft and welcoming.
“I think this moment is as good as any.”
* * *
NORA AGREED WITH a soft moan as Asher’s tongue slid between her teeth. She didn’t want to think anymore. She didn’t want to worry and plan and fret and fix things for other people. She wanted to be right here, right now, in this moment, being kissed senseless by Asher Peyton. She trembled, and he drew her in closer, likely thinking she was cold. But she wasn’t cold—she was burning up with need. And she was done denying herself. There’d be time for regrets later, but right now, she was going to live in this moment with him. Their moment.
He did that thing again, where he whispered her name over and over as if he never wanted to stop, running kisses along her chin and under her ear, then down her neck to the base of her throat. He was hard where she was pressed against him, and she couldn’t resist moving. He responded by tightening his fingers against her hips, pulling her in even closer, grinding against her, zipper to zipper. His kisses turned to little bites on her skin, and her body responded in places he hadn’t even touched yet.
He brushed his flannel shirt from her shoulders and it landed at her feet. His fingers hurriedly untied her apron—oh, God, she was still wearing her apron!—and then that was gone, too. He started to pull at the bottom of her shirt, but she wasn’t going to let him win this race. She yanked the hem of his shirt up and he gave a rumbling laugh as he let her pull it over his head and toss it aside. She’d seen him shirtless, of course, but he’d been sick then. He definitely wasn’t now, and she openly admired the breadth of his hard chest and the dark hair that curled down the center of it, leading to a sexy little happy trail that disappeared into his jeans.
“Your turn, princess.” But she pushed his hands away, and his eyes darkened to cobalt as she pulled her own knit top up and off. She wished she was wearing sexy underwear instead of this simple cotton bra, but she’d had no idea this morning she’d end up stripping in front of Asher. Her momentary regret vanished when she saw the way he was staring at her. Like she was a goddess. She stood proud as she reached around to remove the bra. She didn’t think twice about trusting this man who looked at her with such worship in his eyes.
When the bra fell to the floor, he whispered her name and stepped forward as if she was drawing him in with invisible cords. His hands cupped her breasts and she dropped her head back. He accepted her unspoken invitation, kissing her throat, her shoulders, then her breasts, back and forth, from one to the other. She dug her fingernails into his shoulders until he grunted, but his mouth never stopped. Finally, afraid he was going to make her come while still half-clothed, she gasped his name. He grinned at the desperation she
knew was visible in her eyes, then he nibbled at her ear.
“What do you want, Nora?”
Her words came in breathy bursts. “You. I want you. Naked. Both of us. Naked. Right now.”
His laughter tickled her neck. “For once, we are in total agreement.” He lifted his head, glancing around the empty room, now warm from the fire. “Hang on.” She couldn’t stop the groan of loss as he stepped away. He pulled a mound of muslin drop cloths from the corner, piling them in front of the hearth until they looked like the most inviting nest she’d ever seen. By the time he looked up for her approval, she’d already pushed her jeans and panties to the floor. She didn’t know who she was right now, but damn, it felt good to be bold. Still kneeling, Asher reached up and pulled her in.
“Holy hell, Nora, you’re going to undo me before I even get inside of you. Come here.” He kissed her stomach, then pulled her down until she was kneeling in front of him. The word inside triggered a more practical thought.
“Please tell me you have a condom...”
He’d been on the way to kiss her breast, but he stopped and grinned. “Yes, I’m a good Boy Scout.” He reached back and pulled out his wallet, extracting not one but two foil packets. “I’m prepared.”
He tossed the wallet aside and unbuckled his belt. She’d never been an assertive lover, but she couldn’t resist moving her hand down to stroke the firm bulge beneath his zipper. Asher sucked in a breath, then scrambled to get out of his clothes and lay her back on the makeshift bed. He stared down as if memorizing every inch of her, and her skin tingled everywhere his eyes caressed.
Some tiny spot in her brain registered that she, Nora Bradford, was lying naked on a pile of discarded drop cloths in an empty, unfinished shell of a house with a man she wasn’t sure she knew at all. It was another out-of-body moment, where she could look down and see the two of them in front of the snapping fire, staring at each other without moving. She saw a glimmer of hesitation in Asher, as if he was having the same experience and questioning himself. She reached up and rested her hand along the side of his face.
“In the moment...” She whispered the mantra. He leaned into her hand and closed his eyes. When he opened them again, the hesitation was gone. He tore open the foil and lowered his body onto hers, kissing her deeply. He pushed himself against her, and she let him in with a soft sigh. They didn’t move at first, just lay there, holding each other. She reveled in the feel of his body in hers. Her fingers curled against his back and he started to move. Cautiously at first, until she urged him on, not satisfied with slow. Not satisfied until he was moving hard and fast against her, swallowing her cries with his kisses until they both cried out at once and the room went so brightly, brilliantly white that she closed her eyes for fear she’d be blinded.
Asher continued moving gently against her as they both came down from the peak and started to breathe again. When he finally stopped, his face was buried in her neck. He released his hold on her bottom, and she knew she’d probably have marks from the firm grip he’d had while they were making love.
No. Not that. While they were having sex. She had to keep this real. It was just a moment. He moved his fingers up her sides, caressing and soothing as he went, until his hands were on both sides of her face. He looked down, and she saw a gentle warmth in his eyes she hadn’t imagined possible.
“You will never again be able to say there’s no life in this house, Nora. You just brought life to it.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
ASHER DIDN’T REALIZE he’d spoken his thoughts until he saw Nora’s eyes go misty. A bashful smile tugged at her lips as if the compliment surprised and embarrassed her. Those high spots of pink he liked so much appeared on her cheeks, and he kissed them both. He couldn’t quite wrap his head around the fact that he’d just had sex with Nora Bradford on the floor. And it had been amazing. He would remember every single moment of this for the rest of his life, in vivid images of her.
He’d remember looking up and seeing her standing there, naked, the curves of her body begging him to touch her. The look of her beneath him, brown hair splayed out around her head like a halo, looking at him with nothing but trust and desire. The sound of his name on her lips when she came. The way her body lifted against his, her legs wrapping around him as if she was afraid he’d get away. Even now, her legs were intertwined with his, and he, who’d never been much for cuddling, discovered he liked it a lot. With her.
One of the logs in the fireplace broke apart in a burst of sparks and flame. She blinked, and he saw the briefest glimmer of doubt in her eyes. He moved quickly to quell it.
“You’re beautiful.” She shook her head and opened her mouth, but he gave her a fast kiss to silence her. “You are beautiful. Do you trust me, Nora?” He did his best to ignore the hurt when she hesitated for a heartbeat before nodding. He dropped another kiss to her lips. “I don’t want this moment to be over. So wait here, just like you are. I’m going to clean up and grab us some food from the kitchen, and maybe find some glasses...” He glanced at the cognac on the mantel. “I’ll be right back, okay?”
She nodded again and gave him a shy grin. “We don’t need glasses.”
He pushed himself away, ignoring the protest from his body, which was already begging for more of her. “Straight from the bottle, eh? Okay. No glasses. You stay right here.”
He pulled on his jeans and moved as fast as he could, but when he came back to the bedroom just ten minutes later, she was dozing. She must have gotten chilled, or perhaps felt a burst of modesty, because she’d pulled his flannel shirt over her like a blanket and was curled up tightly under it. He stood over her, unable to put words to the emotions running through him. He wanted to protect her. He wanted to make love to her... No, have sex... No, it was more than sex they’d just had.
Outside, the sun had finally lost its battle with the rain, which now beat steadily against the windows. Sunset was a few hours away, but shadows were already appearing in the corners of the room, currently lit only by the fireplace. For the first time ever, he wished he had more lights in this place instead of just a few cheap lamps with bare bulbs in them. He wished there were soft drapes at the windows, bringing color and warmth. He wished there was a big bed Nora could be nestled in, instead of sleeping there on his floor. He wished this was a home instead of a half-finished shell.
Before he could give that surprising revelation any more thought, Nora sighed and opened her eyes. She sat up, letting his shirt fall off one shoulder, and made room for him to sit with her. Damn, but she was beautiful.
He crossed his legs and sat, handing her the blanket he’d grabbed downstairs. Once in a while he’d sleep on a cot down there if he’d had too much to drink.
“I thought you might want something softer and cleaner than drop cloths.” He handed her the plate of crackers and cheese. “I don’t keep much food here, but there is a pizza in the freezer we can heat up later. It’s not very fancy...”
Nora’s fingers pressed against his mouth, silencing him. Laughter danced in her eyes.
“Are you feeling nervous or something, sitting here almost naked with me and offering crackers and cheese?”
Oh, he was definitely feeling something.
“I like sitting here almost naked with you.” He ran his gaze up and down her body, taking a moment to appreciate her soft, pale skin and trembling smile. “But, yeah, it’s a little...unexpected...to be here like this. With you. With anyone. Here. Now.”
And he was devolving into single-word sentences again. He took a piece of cheese and ate it, just to shut himself up. As if she knew it, Nora giggled. He hadn’t heard her nervous giggle since the spider incident.
“I think ‘unexpected’ is an understatement.” She grinned and crunched on a cracker.
Without thinking, he bent over and kissed the crumbs from the corner of her mouth. She caught h
er breath sharply and he sat back, feeling a familiar panic rise up inside. They were getting way too cozy. Affectionate. Intimate. What the hell was he doing here with this woman?
“And there he goes.”
“What?”
Her voice was soft and sad. “You’re running again. Pulling away. Shutting me out.”
His well-practiced defenses rose automatically. “This...what just happened...it isn’t real life, Nora. It was amazing, and I sure as hell don’t regret it. But trust me, I’m not relationship material. There’s a long line of witnesses who can attest to that.”
She pushed her arms into the sleeves of his shirt, drawing it around her and hiding the view he’d been enjoying.
“You used to be relationship material. You had a wife. Two sons.”
He should have known she’d go down this road again. Dr. Phil had nothing on Nora Bradford. He pulled the cork from the bottle of cognac. He would need liquid courage for this conversation. “You just proved my point. None of those relationships still exist.”
“The one with Michael does.”
“No. It doesn’t. You’ve seen how he reacts to me now. He hates me.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. Kids get hurt and lash out, but that doesn’t mean they hate us. In fact, it’s usually when they push us away that they need us the most.” She blushed and smiled. “Okay, I know that was another greeting-card moment. But, seriously, when was the last time you two really talked?”
“It was here, at this house. A while ago.”
“What happened?”
I offered him a bribe to dump your pregnant daughter.