Smooth talking stranger

by Lorraine Heath

  “Do you love me?” she asked.

  Chapter 17

  Serena knew the answer to that question. What she was interested in discovering was how he answered it. He couldn’t claim it wasn’t a question. He couldn’t claim that it wasn’t personal. It was about as personal as she could get.

  It looked as though he was having a difficult time swallowing the food he’d been chewing. But eventually he managed. He set his fork down, pressed his napkin to his mouth, ran his tongue over his teeth, took a sip—which more closely resembled a gulp—of wine, and leaned back.

  “You sure you want the answer to that question?”

  “I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t.”

  He glanced around as though he was expecting the cavalry to appear and save him. “You sure you want the answer now? Here? This moment?”

  “Yes, I’m sure.”

  He picked up the toothpick, held it between the thumb and finger of one hand while stroking it with the other as though he expected a genie to pop up out of the thing with the answer.

  “I like you,” he finally said. “I like you a lot. I like your sense of humor. I like the relationship you have with your son and the one you have with your father. I like the protective nature of your character and the way you try to make everyone feel at home, and you hang yellow curtains in your windows.

  “Do I love you?” He shook his head. “At this moment, no. But you already knew that answer. What you should have asked was could I come to love you? And the answer there is yeah, I definitely think I could.”

  Tears stung her eyes as she watched him place the toothpick back inside his jacket. She didn’t know why that small gesture meant almost as much as his answer. And his answer had meant oh, so much. It was what she needed to hear, what she needed to know, what she’d been afraid to ask.

  With a trembling hand, she pushed another toothpick across the table. “Could you come to love Riker?”

  “Yeah, I could.” He pushed the toothpick back toward her. “That one was a freebie. I know if I marry you, Serena, that I’m marrying your family.”

  “And what about your family? You once told me that you went into foster care when you were eight. You said your parents were long gone, which could mean anything. Do you ever see them, hear from them?”

  “No. They’re both dead.”

  He snatched up a toothpick. She stared at him dumbfounded.

  “I didn’t ask a question.”

  “Sure you did.”

  “It wasn’t personal.”

  “Sure it was.”

  She gathered up her toothpicks and moved them to her lap, beyond his reach. “You don’t play fair.”

  “Maybe not, but I play honest. I know the odds are that our marriage won’t work. But I’ve always been a risk-taker. And I think it’s worth the risk to at least try.”

  “Not when the children might get hurt.”

  “And how do you think they’re going to get hurt?”

  “They’ll come to love you, and you’ll go away. You can’t guarantee that you’ll always come home—not with this job that you’ve hinted you have.”

  “No, I can’t guarantee it.”

  “Would you consider taking some other sort of job?”

  “Like what?”

  She lifted a shoulder. “I don’t know. Law enforcement?”

  “You think that’s safer than what I do now?”

  “I can’t judge since I don’t really know exactly what you do now, but at least with law enforcement you wouldn’t be leaving for long periods of time. You’d be home.”

  Home. He wished she hadn’t used that word. It appealed to him. But he hadn’t really considered giving up what he did for a living. The pay was good, it contained a measure of excitement, and made him feel as though he was making a difference.

  “I disliked Steve being in the military. I know some wives adjust. I never could. I didn’t like the loneliness or the worry or having to make decisions on my own that affected all of us. I know that makes me selfish—”

  “No, I don’t imagine any of that was easy. I just hadn’t given any thought to resigning. I’ll consider it. That’s all I can promise.”

  She nodded as though she could accept that. “Where would we live?”

  “I’ve got no roots. We can live wherever you want.”

  “I’d want to live in Hopeful.”

  “Then that’s where we’d live.”

  “How did you know I had yellow curtains hanging in my windows?” she asked, without skipping a beat, as though she thought she could throw him off with a question unrelated to the others.

  Grinning, he settled back in the chair. “Figuring people out is what I do. I’ve gotten to be very good at it.”

  “So you think you know me?”

  Her voice indicated that she was insulted that he’d consider her so easy to figure out.

  “I think I have a fairly good idea of what living with you would be like.”

  “I might surprise you.”

  He broadened his grin. “I’m not saying what I did simply because I’ve figured out that you’re boring or not full of surprises. Yesterday being a prime example of how you can successfully throw me a curve.” He crossed his arms on the table. “But here’s what I suspect and you correct me when I’m wrong.

  “You cook most of your meals. Not because you can’t afford to go out but because you like the feeling that you’re providing for your family.

  “When Riker plays ball next summer, you’ll be the team mom. The one who makes sure the kids have plenty to drink during practice and games. You’ll advocate for every kid to be given a trophy even if the team comes in at last place.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with that.”

  “Of course not. Why make them think that there’s a reward in being the best? If you’re the worst you get the same reward.”

  “I see no reason to damage their self-esteem when they’re young,” she offered, obviously getting a little irritated with him.

  Not the goal he was hoping to achieve.

  “We can tackle that attitude later. Right now, you’re confirming that I’m guessing correctly. You go to every PTA meeting, every school party. You’d never think to purchase your son’s birthday cake from the bakery. You wear sexy underwear, but I’m guessing boring nightclothes—”

  “Ha! I sleep in the nude.”

  He laughed as she settled back in the chair with an air of satisfaction—as though she’d just beat him at his own game.

  “You don’t know me nearly as well you think,” she said a little petulantly, as though she’d just realized what she’d revealed, perhaps a little too loudly.

  “But I think getting to you know would definitely be fun. If we were to get married, what sort of wedding would you want?”

  She fingered the stem of her wineglass like it was a crystal ball that could reveal the answer. “Small,” she finally said. “Late afternoon, early evening. At my family’s beach house because I have so many fond memories of time spent there. I’d invite only a few friends.” She shifted in the chair. “Mostly because I’ve lost touch with so many people. What sort of wedding would you want?”

  “Whatever kind you want.”

  “This would be a first for you.”

  “Yep.”

  “It should be special.”

  “It would be if you were the one I was marrying.”

  Blushing, she shook her head. He wasn’t sure if she was signaling a negative response to his suggestion or flustered because he thought marrying her would be something special.

  He leaned forward. “Look, Serena, I’m not much for fancy words or reciting poetry. But I think there could be something good between us. And I’d work damned hard to make it happen.”

  The arrival of their steaks had interrupted the discussion of marriage and its possibilities. Taking her to a restaurant had been a tactical error. His house would have served them better. There would have been no interruptions, no d
istractions.

  Of course, there wouldn’t have been any food either because he wasn’t much of a gourmet. Ham and eggs was about as fancy as he got. So the time at the restaurant would ensure that his stomach didn’t growl for the remainder of the evening.

  And when he’d asked, she’d consented to go home with him in order to continue the discussion—and, he hoped, get to know him better. He’d stopped on the way home and picked up another bottle of Riesling and a couple of cheap wineglasses. He didn’t figure a little more wine would harm her or the baby.

  The baby.

  Every time that thought went through him, a chill followed it, but each one was less cold than the one that had come before.

  She sat on the couch in front of the floor-to-ceiling window that looked out on the lake. He considered turning down the thermostat enough so he could build a fire, but decided against that desperate action.

  He was searching for a romantic mood. He’d actually been surprised that she’d decided to come home with him, but then she was a series of surprises. And she slept in the nude. He still couldn’t quite get over that, although the notion had him anticipating all the long nights ahead when she’d be up against his naked body.

  He sat beside her and offered her the expensive wine in the cheap glass. She took a sip and set the glass aside. He gulped his, wishing he was drinking something stronger.

  He stretched his arm along the back of the couch and began to toy with her curls. They were so soft, as soft as she was. He was encouraged by the fact that she didn’t pull away, didn’t shrink at his touch.

  “It’s a nice view,” she said quietly. “Won’t you miss it…if you were to move to Hopeful?”

  “Could always come for a visit, a long weekend.”

  “It’s peaceful here.”

  “Yeah.”

  She slid her gaze over to him. “Would you want a boy or a girl?”

  Alarm bells went off in his head. This was a trick question.

  He wrapped her curls around one of his fingers. “Doesn’t matter.”

  She smiled softly. Bull’s-eye! Right answer.

  “What would you want Riker to call you?”

  “Whatever he wants. Whatever you want him to.”

  “Daddy?”

  A hard kick to the gut.

  He shifted around so he was sitting at a right angle to her. “Look, Serena, I’m not hard to get along with. I’ll handle a threat with overpowering force, but I don’t see you threatening me. I’m skilled at adapting to a situation, blending in. My parents didn’t offer the best example of what family life should be. So when it comes to what you think is best for you or the kids, I’ll follow your lead.”

  The kids. His kids. Her kids. Their kids. Two months ago, he’d never expected to carry on a conversation that revolved around the possibilities of having children, a family. The thought was still foreign, unbelievable. But he’d hang on like a tenacious rottweiler if that’s what it took to make her realize that he only had her best interests in mind. If he died tomorrow, he wanted her provided for.

  He leaned close, brushed his lips against her ear, and whispered, “Marry me, Serena.”

  Serena heard the words, laced with longing. His warm breath skimmed along her neck as he tucked his mouth beneath her ear, nibbling, stroking with his tongue. Her eyes slid closed and she thought it wasn’t fair…

  It wasn’t fair to deny herself the pleasure of his touch.

  Yes, they had things to work out, specifics to discuss…and yet, she sensed his willingness to work with her. He seemed to like Riker and she was certain that Riker liked him. They got along well, she and Hunter got along well. They hadn’t yet come to love each other but she didn’t think the moment was far away.

  His mouth skimmed along her throat, a leisurely journey to her other ear.

  “Marry me.”

  His voice was like warm honey poured over biscuits. Golden, thick, delicious. They would have this every night…at least when he was in town. And when he wasn’t…she’d have the memories.

  “Marry me.” His lips brushed against hers as he again voiced the words, wearing down her restraint, eliminating her arguments.

  She told herself that she was insane to even be contemplating answering yes. She hadn’t known him long, didn’t know his past.

  But she was fairly confident that she knew him, knew the man who was slipping the slim strap of her dress off her shoulder and lightly grazing his teeth over her skin. He wouldn’t bite. She was fairly certain that he’d never bark at her. Growl maybe.

  But then she was in the habit of doing her own growling.

  The attraction was there. She enjoyed being with him. It had all seemed right when she, he, and Riker were together. They would be the family she’d longed to have again.

  “Marry me,” he repeated.

  Her answer came not with a word, but with the slipping off of the other strap. Her heart sang with the echo of his feral growl.

  And she knew he wouldn’t take her upstairs. That tonight, for them, there would be no bed. That he wanted her here, now.

  Which was good, because she wanted him, always wanted him.

  Clothes melted away as quickly as the cotton candy she’d eaten at the ballpark. A discarded pile beside the couch, first hers, then his. There wasn’t a lot of maneuverability on the couch, but it made no difference.

  Their hands and mouths explored. Between the branches of the trees outside, she could catch a glimpse of the stars in the sky, and she thought she was on the verge of traveling there…shooting across the heavens in glorious flight.

  He was so skilled at carrying her to incredible heights.

  “Sweet, sweet, Serena,” he whispered near her ear. “I’ll make it good for you. I swear I’ll make it good for you.”

  And in a far off corner of her mind, she knew he wasn’t talking about this moment. He was talking about the future, about marriage, about their life together.

  What was she afraid of?

  He’d been committing to her all day—with the purchase of the rings, with marked toothpicks for twenty questions, with words and promises, and now with his body. His strong, virile body nestled between her thighs.

  And his kisses. So many kisses from her shoulders to her toes. Hard kisses, enthusiastic kisses. She’d leave here tonight bearing his marks. Which seemed only fair since she was bearing his child.

  His tongue was now circling her navel.

  “What’s the baby feel like?” he asked.

  She threaded her fingers through his hair. “I can’t feel the baby yet.”

  He lifted his head, his face limned by moonlight. “I’ll do whatever it takes to be a good father. You just tell me what I have to do.”

  Come to love me.

  But what she needed, what they would all need, couldn’t be commanded. It had to arrive of its own volition, in its own time, but she had no doubt that it would. The spark was there, waiting to be ignited into a glorious flame. And it occurred to her that the only reason she could be so certain was because she’d already come to love him.

  His strength, his determination…the ease with which he read her. His infrequent laughter that she longed to hear more often. There was goodness in him. She’d seen it in the way he treated Riker, had been the recipient of it herself.

  He would make a good father without her having to tell him anything. She’d guide him when she could, but she thought he’d be able to follow the path on his own.

  He eased up, latching his mouth onto hers, kissing her thoroughly. The kiss spoke volumes. Tender and hungry at once. Asking what he’d already voiced.

  Marry me.

  I will, I will, I will.

  She’d known what her answer would be when she’d stepped out of the house this morning. The hesitancy had only come about because it seemed as though it was expected.

  But she didn’t want her child to grow up without a father. Wanted Riker to have a man in his life. A good man. And Hunter Fletcher was
a good man.

  His mouth left hers and he was reaching down, searching through the clothing—and it suddenly dawned on her what he was searching for.

  “You don’t need that,” she said quietly.

  His snapped his gaze to hers. “I’ve never not used one.”

  She lifted her hips, pleased to know that he would have something with her that he’d never had with another.

  He turned away from the clothes, turned back to her. And it was as though the floodgates on his desire had been unleashed. His mouth was hotter as it returned to hers, his hands more demanding as he caressed her.

  He emitted a low possessive growl as he joined his body with hers. He stilled. She could feel the tenseness in his muscles, the quivering in his arms as he held himself above her. He released a long, low sigh as though he simply wanted to appreciate the moment, his first of having absolutely nothing separating them.

  Then he was rocking against her, pumping into her. Cupping his buttocks, she urged him on. Faster, faster, harder, harder.

  Pleasure spiraled through her, higher, higher, higher, until she could climb no higher. They peaked at the same moment, their bodies arching, pulsing. Replete, she sprawled beneath him, his arms shaking as he fought not to place his entire weight on her.

  “Was that a yes?” he asked.

  Laughing, she responded, “That was a yes.”

  Chapter 18

  Hunter had told her that he understood that marrying her meant marrying her family. So it was time to pay the piper.

  As he drove her back to her father’s house, he was having a difficult time believing that she’d consented to marry him. Or that he was so incredibly grateful that she had.

  He could make this work. He could finally have what he’d been denied his entire life: a normal family.

  “Riker will probably already be in bed,” she said from her side of the jeep. “But we should probably tell him together. Will you come over tomorrow?”

  “Sure.”

  “And you’ll come inside while I tell Dad tonight?”

  “Yeah.”

  He darted a glance over at her. “Did you want me to tell him?”

  “If you like.”