by Angel Smits
Marcus’s touch was gentle, yet firm as he wrapped his arms around her. This was a man she could lean on, who would comfort and warm her, who would give as good as he got. It felt right being with him. She gave herself up to his kiss, returning it with her own soft sigh.
Then he was gone. He took a deep, harsh breath. “I—” He took another breath, his hands clenched at his side as he stepped away. “I haven’t kissed anyone besides—” He stared at her.
“Your wife?”
He shoved a hand through his thick hair, and Addie curled her own hand into a fist, resisting the urge to do the same.
“No one else since I was eighteen.”
Addie’s heart ached as much from the cool air now brushing her lips asfrom the envy of the other woman. Addie would love to have someone love her like that.
But she didn’t. Would she ever?
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—” She backed away, not wanting to make him feel any worse than he did. She remembered that first kiss after losing Cal. It had been nearly a year later, but it had still hurt. Badly.
“I’ll be on my way.” She turned and hurried out the door, not bothering to close it behind her.
The familiar whack of the old screen door sounded so final. Even though it was a warm day, she hurried away, intent on burning off her frustration and mortification.
* * *
WAS SHE EVEN HOME? Was she feeling okay? Marcus walked slowly along the sidewalk across the street from Addie’s house. Ryan had texted him that she’d been at the assembly earlier. He’d even sent a picture that Marcus had saved to his phone.
He’d thought about her, about that kiss, dozens of times today. He’d wondered what would have happened if he’d followed her like he should have. If nothing else, to make sure she really was better. Now, it was a beautiful evening, the night falling gently over him and the neighborhood.
And he still hadn’t stopped thinking about her. Using the excuse that she’d left without taking the overnight case her brothers had packed for her, he’d decided to bring it over to her.
As he’d walked, he looked around, still a bit overwhelmed at this great place where he’d landed.
Ryan had actually been the one who’d found the house on the market. He’d liked the big yard, the huge attic room and the fact that it was near both a middle school and high school. “I can live there forever, Dad.” Marcus remembered his son’s passionate pitch about the place.
Marcus hadn’t argued. It was a great house, and if they were moving to Austin anyway, why not let his son have what he wanted? Marcus hadn’t gotten overly attached to any place he’d ever lived, anyway.
Marcus thought about his own upbringing. So different from what he and Carolyn had tried to give Ryan. So different from Addie’s.
Marcus’s father had been career army, a colonel who hadn’t been home much. He’d preferred to be in the middle of the world’s troubles. There wasn’t a conflict his father hadn’t been smack in the center of in the past twenty years.
Marcus wondered how his father was dealing with his imminent retirement. He wasn’t sure what his father would do without a war to follow.
Not that Marcus would actually know. He and his father didn’t speak often. His parents still lived on Lake Shore Drive in Chicago. His dad still left for some remote places. So like all the time and places they’d lived when he and his sister were growing up. No yard, no house, no streets to run with his buddies well past the sunset. New neighbors every few weeks. Nothing lasting.
Marcus couldn’t remember the last time he and his father had spent more than a few minutes on the phone as a conversation.
The porch light came on at Addie’s, startling Marcus. He stared across the street, past the picket fence, over the wide, green lawn, to the front door of the Craftsman-style home.
The house was similar to his. The roofline was slightly different, and where he had a brick fireplace in the living room, she had a bay window.
The wide panes would show him most of the room—if there was a light on inside.
Then there was one. A little flame. She leaned over the soft glow, a long match in her hand as she lit several thick candles. The light from the wicks danced on her skin, bouncing off the bright gold curls, and wavering as if beckoning him to cross the street and knock on the door.
She pursed her lips and blew on the match. The flame on the wooden stick went out, doing little to diminish the glow in the candlelit room. It looked so enticing and she looked—he swallowed—breathtakingly beautiful.
As quickly as she’d appeared, she vanished, and something akin to disappointment settled over him. Maybe that was a good thing. It wouldn’t be good if she caught him staring in her windows like some sick peeping tom.
The door opened then, and she stood in the shadowed opening, staring across the street. At him, a smile flirting with her lips. “Hi,” she called, her voice floating to him on the evening’s faint breeze.
He’d screwed up. No woman wanted to be reminded of someone else in the middle of a kiss. Marcus wanted to kick himself for being stupid. He owed Addie an apology.
He was glad for the approaching darkness. She couldn’t see the discomfort on his face from there, could she? He lifted a hand. A casual wave that he gave purpose to when he lifted the small bag she’d left behind.
“Want to come in?” she asked.
“I—I should be heading home.”
Did her smile actually dim, or was he imagining it?
But when she’d opened the door, all coherent thought flew out of his head. The flickering candlelight outlined her, glinting off her curls and showing him her sweet curves. Relief washed over him as she smiled. He couldn’t have screwed up too badly—could he?
He strode slowly across the street, opening the gate and heading up her walk. He stopped at the steps that led to the front door. He had to look up to meet her smile.
* * *
ADDIE LEANED AGAINST the door frame, hoping Marcus couldn’t see her uncertainty. “Nice evening for a walk.”
“It is.” He looked around, for a hiding place? An escape? Witnesses? “We need to talk,” he finally said instead.
She held her breath, waiting for Marcus to look at her. It took him a beat. Finally, that deep-blue gaze found hers. She didn’t know how to tell him that she wasn’t the one-night-stand type, that she was a long-term kind of gal. She didn’t want to wake up tomorrow to have regret steal all the joy.
“Won’t you come in?” she whispered. He took the first step, and her breath caught at the intensity in his eyes. “Is something wrong?”
“No.” He took the next step, and she curled her hands into fists to keep herself from reaching out to him. He set the small case on the floor just inside before he said anything. “Are you okay? You feeling okay?”
Why did she get the sense there was more behind those questions than yesterday’s illness? “Are you okay?” she asked him instead of responding.
His smile was slow but intense. “Yeah. I’ll be honest when I say this is strange for me.”
“You have to be sure.”
He didn’t even hesitate. “I’m sure. I want this,” he whispered, leaning close.
“Come in.” Addie extended her hand in invitation toward the living room. He took it, his hand warm against hers, and followed her inside.
* * *
MARCUS STEPPED THROUGH Addie’s front door, more than a little curious about what he’d see inside. There was no cat. No dog, big or small. Just a quiet, warm home.
“Nice place,” he said as she closed the door and led the way into the living room.
“I like it. I know it’s similar to Mom’s, er, your place. But it’s different enough.”
He nodded. Then realized how stupid all this was. Why were they awkward with each other? They’d enjoyed conversations, knew e
ach other well enough to understand each other, but still there were no words making complete sentences in his head.
“Feels like your air-conditioning’s fixed.”
“Yeah. Comes in handy to have a brother who’s a former marine. The poor repairman probably thought he was in boot camp.” She settled in an overstuffed chair and curled her legs under her skirt. She looked dainty and sweet sitting there. He wished she’d sat on the couch. “Won’t you have a seat?” She waved to the sofa in front of the picture window.
“Sure.” He sat on the end of the couch nearest her, telling himself it was better to hear and see her expressions. In reality, he hoped she’d move closer. “Looks like you’re feeling better.”
“Yeah.”
The silence stretched out. There was no more small talk, and nothing important to discuss. The sound of crickets outside almost made him laugh at the absurdity of the whole situation.
She must have thought so, too. “Why did you come over tonight, Marcus? Other than the suitcase, of course.” They both knew there wasn’t anything urgent inside. Her question was a breathy whisper. Her eyes were wide as she looked at him.
“I—” Why had he come over? When Ryan had left for the movies, Marcus had found the house empty and lonely. He couldn’t stop thinking about her, about that kiss.
Put the two together, and there wasn’t anything else he could do. Slowly, he stood and stepped over to stand in front of her. He extended his hand. She didn’t say anything, neither did he, but she put her hand in his and let him guide her to her feet.
Other than their hands, they weren’t touching, but he felt every single inch of her over the brief space between them.
“I couldn’t stay away,” he said, slipping his arm loosely around her waist, pulling her slowly against him. He bit back the satisfied sigh as her curves settled close.
Addie flattened her palms against the front of his shirt, toying with the open collar. His heart beat hard against her touch. Slowly, she inched her hands up and hesitantly slipped her fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck. “I’m glad.”
Was that a blush on her cheeks? “Where do we go from here?” He didn’t move. He had no idea how to take the next step with a woman. He hadn’t had to do that in over a decade. He certainly hoped she knew what to do.
“I’m not sure. I—” She looked up then, her gaze meeting his.
He knew he was lost. Gently, slowly, he cupped her chin. She leaned into his palm, and he slid the pad of his thumb over her lips. “So beautiful,” he said before he realized what he meant to say. Her skin was soft against his touch, and her hair slid over the back of his hand in a sweet caress.
“Marcus...” She swallowed hard. “Kiss me, please,” she whispered, her breath fanning his wrist, hot and soft.
His heart pounded, and her lips parted, inviting him to taste. He’d already sampled, but this would be more. So much more.
He didn’t have to lean far. Bending his head, Marcus gently put his lips on hers, not intending to do more than kiss her.
All his good intentions vanished as Addie slid her arms up around his neck. She held him to her, and returned his kiss with a heated one of her own.
Her lips parted, tasting him and inviting him inside. Every inch of him ached to take all of her, hard and fast and completely, but he held back. He wanted that, but he wanted this sweet joining to last.
And apparently, so did she.
* * *
ADDIE DIDN’T REMEMBER the last time, if ever, that she’d felt this wanted. Marcus’s touch was gentle and yet strong. His arms tight around her waist held her to him, but his kiss was slow and easy, letting her set the pace.
She held on tight, not wanting him to let go anytime soon, if ever.
His lips were firm and warm, and the scent of his subtle cologne wrapped in and around her. He tasted and smelled like a man whose touch could slip past every barrier she’d ever erected around her heart.
Oh, Marcus. She leaned into him, and he supported her with his strength. She couldn’t get close enough.
Her blood rushed through her veins, and the temperature rose nearly ten degrees. His body heat combined with hers. She fought to pull in air as her lungs forgot to breathe. Her entire body forgot it had anything else to do but taste and feel him.
Finally, he pulled back, but only far enough to sever the kiss and move his lips to the edge of her jaw and down the length of her neck. Wanting, needing, to give him better access, she tilted her head, hoping and praying he wanted to move lower.
Her breasts tingled in anticipation, aching to feel his touch. But he seemed content to taste the skin of her neck, his tongue darting out where her pulse beat against her skin. Her moan seemed loud in the silent room, reminding her how alone they were.
No one would interrupt them. No one except the two of them would have a part in this moment. Her heart soared at the thought of sharing him with no one.
“Addie,” he said, the heat of his breath fanning over her skin. “I need you.”
Her knees grew weak, and the only thing keeping her standing was his hold. “Marcus,” she whispered, not even sure what she intended to say next. Her mind scrambled, and all she could do was feel. And ache.
“I—” Marcus’s voice came out in a harsh whisper. Then he slowly pulled her arms away from around his neck. “I need to go.”
Her heart sank, and the blood that had sung in her veins turned to a burning blush of mortification in her cheeks. She looked down, hoping he wouldn’t see her embarrassment.
“No, wait.” He tilted her chin up with a gentle finger. “Don’t misunderstand,” he croaked. “I want you. My god, I want you so bad.” He cleared his throat and stepped back. “But Ryan’s going to be home soon. When I make love to you, I don’t want any interruptions. I don’t want to sneak out of here. I sure as hell won’t want to stop.”
She gasped. Words failed her. The soft little sigh that escaped her lips felt like a plea.
Marcus growled and, despite his intention to leave, pulled her against him again. This time his lips were hungry and hot, and he took everything he could get. She let him, curling her fingers into the muscles of his back as if she could hold him here.
“You’re driving me crazy,” he finally said as he set her away from him again. This time he put several inches between them. “I will be back.” He opened the door and left without another word or touch.
Addie stood there for several long minutes not sure what had happened, but wishing he’d hurry back.
* * *
THE NEXT DAY, her phone rang. That might not have been a problem if she weren’t standing on a ladder trying to replace the lightbulbs in the ceiling fan. She caught herself before she hurried to answer. She’d promised both Wyatt and DJ that she’d take better care of her house, and better care of herself.
She understood their concerns. Really, she did. She just—well, she wasn’t used to thinking about herself. The kids at school, her siblings and now her nieces and nephews were infinitely more important.
“If it’s important, they’ll call back,” she spoke out loud. Maybe she’d get used to thinking that way if she said it often enough.
She’d just climbed down when it rang again. “See?” she told her reflection in the hall mirror. “I was right. Hello?” she said on the fourth ring, just before it went to voice mail.
“Addie?” Marcus asked. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. Why?” She looked out the window to see if he might be standing across the street like last night. He wasn’t, and she tried to ignore her disappointment. Her cheeks burned as she remembered their kiss.
“You sound out of breath. I called a bit ago, but you didn’t answer. Everything okay?”
“I’m fine!” She bit the words out. One little episode of nearly dying and everyone was her keeper. “Wyatt has called already.
Both my sisters and DJ, as well.”
He was silent for a long time. “Everyone is worried about you. They care.”
The words to ask if he was in that camp were on the tip of her tongue. She didn’t utter them. If he said no, she wasn’t sure if she could take it.
“What are you doing this afternoon?” he asked.
“Apparently rolling myself up in cotton and not moving,” she mumbled.
“What?”
“Nothing.” She contemplated if she could fold up the ladder and not drop the phone. Probably not. She sat on the bottom step. She’d take care of it when they hung up.
“Want to come over? A couple of those boxes in the garage I think you should look at. I’ll grill.”
“Uh—” She tamped down her surprise and pleasure. “Now, how is a girl supposed to turn that kind of offer down? Dirty garage-cleaning work followed by a man who cooks. Sure.” She couldn’t help smiling when his laughter rang out through the phone. She closed her eyes, picturing his face. His smile lit up his eyes and brightened up everything.
“How do you like your steak?”
“Steak? That garage must be really dirty.”
He laughed again. “About five? That’ll give us plenty of time before dark to go through things.”
“Sounds good. What can I bring?”
“Nothing. I’m cooking. You’re a guest.”
“Guests bring a dish.”
“That’s not necessary. I’ve got everything covered.” He sighed. “Just bring your lovely self. See you later, Addie.” He ended the call, his laughter still hanging in the air.
A long few minutes passed as she sat on that step. She couldn’t show up empty-handed. That went against everything her mother had taught her. And the fact that she was going over to Mom’s old house—yeah Mom’s spirit would probably smack her. No, she smiled. She wasn’t taking that chance.
Her smile grew as she realized what she had to take. She always kept cookie ingredients around. And there were several bottles of wine in the garage from the last girls’ night. Perfect.