Harlequin Superromance December 2013 - Bundle 1 of 2: Caught Up in YouThe Ranch She Left BehindA Valley Ridge Christmas

by Beth Andrews

  “She’ll know.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “Cass will know her dad loved her, that he was proud of her, that her parents loved each other and were happy together. She’ll know,” Eddie repeated, wishing he’d kept his mouth shut, afraid he’d say the wrong thing, “because you’ll tell her. But more importantly, because your memories of Beau will keep him alive for her. Will help her know him.”

  She smiled, as if he’d given her so much more than a few of his thoughts put into words, and squeezed his hand again.

  Maybe he was better at this whole talking thing than he’d realized.

  * * *

  SHE’D HAD FUN.

  Harper wasn’t sure what she’d expected. If she hadn’t thought she would have a good time, why would she have shown up in the first place? Eddie hadn’t talked much but he had talked and, better yet, he’d said exactly what she’d needed to feel better about Beau.

  Your memories of Beau will keep him alive for her. Will help her know him.

  Eddie was direct and insightful—more than she’d realized, and she’d enjoyed getting to know him better. They’d discussed mutual acquaintances and friends, their parents, his family and their work.

  They hadn’t talked about Max or his issues at school. They hadn’t talked about their pasts—when they’d been in school or his marriage.

  The parking lot was packed but, fortunately, empty of people. Music floated out from the bar, a classic rock song with a fast beat and heavy bass, perfect for dancing.

  Harper couldn’t remember the last time she went dancing. “Do you like to dance?” she asked, wondering if she could talk him into going into Pittsburgh—far from prying eyes. They could go to a bar like O’Riley’s where the music was provided by a jukebox or a DJ who played rock and roll. She had a feeling Eddie Montesano didn’t do dance music, strobe lights or techno-anything.

  He glanced at her. “I don’t dance.”

  “You don’t dance? Or you can’t dance?”

  “Does it matter?”

  “Sure. The first is a choice. The second is a matter of opinion.”

  “I choose not to dance.”

  She dug her keys from her purse. The wind picked up, chilled her arms as she’d been running late and hadn’t bothered to grab a jacket. “Too bad. I love to dance. Don’t get me wrong, I’m a horrible dancer. But I still like it.”

  “What makes you think you’re so horrible?”

  She laughed. “My own father told me it looked as if I’d been electrocuted. And believe me, my dad thinks I can do no wrong. Plus, I’ve seen the video of my wedding day. Not pretty. But I still like to dance.”

  “I won’t take you dancing.”

  She grinned up at him. “Yeah. I got that. What if I invited you?”

  Again, it’d have to be somewhere other than Shady Grove. She might be able to explain away them having dinner together tonight. It wasn’t as if he’d been flirting—she wasn’t sure he knew how to flirt, and it’d been so long since she’d been eligible, her own skills were mighty rusty. So they could play tonight off as the casual dinner it’d been.

  But she didn’t want people to get the wrong idea about them. Especially when she wasn’t sure what the right idea was. Keeping their...whatever name you wanted to put on this fledgling relationship...to themselves seemed the best idea.

  They stopped by her car and she pushed the button to unlock it. Opened the door and tossed her purse inside.

  “If you asked me to go dancing, I’d tell you no,” Eddie said, edging forward to trap her between his hard body and the door. “But if you asked me to go to a Steelers game, I’d say yes.”

  “I’ve been known to dance at a Steelers game,” she warned him. “I’ve even been on TV.”

  “Sounds as if we’d both get what we wanted.”

  You have to decide what you want, wasn’t that what Sadie had told her? Harper still wasn’t sure but she was weakening, her feelings growing for this man before her.

  He came even closer. Lifted a hand slowly, giving her plenty of time to back away. She didn’t. She barely breathed as he touched her hair, just the ends of it, then let his hand drop.

  “You and Cassidy could come over Sunday,” he said. “Watch the game with me and Max. I’ll even let you dance.”

  She opened her mouth to invite him to her house on Sunday. The Steelers were playing Baltimore; it was a fierce rivalry, and she and Beau always hosted a party when the two teams played.

  But she couldn’t ask Eddie to come. The party was something she’d done with her husband, something it’d taken her weeks to decide she was ready to do on her own. Her family and his would be there along with their mutual friends.

  She wasn’t ready to go public with this. Not yet.

  Maybe not ever.

  “Actually, I have a few people coming over to my place.” She smiled to soften her rejection. “My parents, and Joan and Steve, and Beau’s stepsister and her family.” Sadie and James and Sadie’s sister, Charlotte, and their parents.

  Crap.

  He was watching her steadily. Not expectant, really, and that was what got to her. He didn’t expect her to invite him to join them.

  “Why don’t you and Max come?” she asked. “There’ll be plenty of food and you know just about everyone who’ll be there.”

  “That going to be a problem for you?”

  “What?”

  “Having so many people there that know us?”

  She narrowed her eyes. What was he? A mind reader? “It won’t be a problem for me.”

  But she wasn’t so sure.

  “I’m not sure what Max and I will end up doing.”

  She hoped he couldn’t tell how relieved she was, but then again, he seemed more observant than any man should be.

  “Thank you for dinner,” she said, feeling sulky—sounding it, too. She brushed it aside; life was too short to be anything other than happy. “I had a good time.”

  “Me, too.”

  “And you don’t even sound shocked,” she teased.

  “I’m not. Much.”

  She raised her eyebrows. “A joke. Wow. A couple of beers and you turn into quite the charmer.”

  “You okay to drive home?”

  They’d both had alcohol but they’d switched to water over two hours ago. They’d spent quite a bit of time lingering over their dinners. Not because the food was delicious—though it was pretty good—but because they’d been talking. Or she’d been doing most of the talking but he’d been listening.

  She hadn’t realized how nice it was to have a man simply listen to her.

  Oh, Beau had listened. But he’d also given his opinion, his advice on everything. Not that she wasn’t grateful for his input, but sometimes it was nice just to vent and to figure things out on your own.

  “I’m fine,” she said. “That piece of cake you talked me into absorbed the last of the alcohol.”

  “Didn’t take much talking.”

  “That was a lucky break for all involved.” She liked when he teased her, that he was obviously growing more comfortable with her. She liked him. She wasn’t surprised she’d had a good time with him, but that she’d been able to spend so much time with another man and not constantly compare him to Beau—although there had been moments. But that was perfectly normal. It had to be.

  She felt normal. Like a single woman enjoying an evening with a good-looking man. She just wished she didn’t feel so happy about that. So guilty.

  Still, she wasn’t in any hurry for the night to end but short of asking him back to her house—not going to happen—she knew she’d have to say good-night any second now. “So much for your lone wolf status.”

  “How do you figure?”

  “Well, aft
er that dinner, I’d say we’re officially friends. I’m thinking of getting us matching ball caps.”

  She’d meant it as a joke, as a way to keep things light between them. Maybe even a reminder, for both of them, that friendship was the best course of action for them. But Eddie’s mouth tightened. Under the harsh glare of the parking lot lights, he looked dark and foreboding. “We’re not friends.”

  Disappointment settled heavily on her shoulders, weighed her down. She tried to ignore it. “No? Well, you’re missing out because I am a terrific friend. I never forget a birthday or anniversary. I keep in touch regularly, and am a really good listener. Oh, and I give excellent advice on all situations from parenting to elderly parents to your love life.”

  “I can handle all those situations on my own.”

  “Ah. I can see the headlines now—The Lone Wolf Returns.”

  “You think I kissed you because I want to be your buddy?” he asked quietly and, if she wasn’t mistaken, amusedly.

  She’d amused him. And he was scaring her to death, making her palms sweat, her fingers tingle. “I—”

  “Because I already told you. I wanted to kiss you because you’re beautiful. And sexy.”

  “You want to have sex with me?”

  Her question, a high-pitched squawk, caught him by surprise. It caught her by surprise, as well. She usually said what was on her mind but at times, not having a filter made for some interesting—and humiliating—situations.

  “I want to spend time with you,” he said in answer. “I enjoy being with you.”

  “You sound shocked.”

  “I didn’t think we’d have anything in common.”

  “We went to school together, grew up, live and work in the same town, know most of the same people, are both raising kids on our own.... How much more in common do you need?”

  A truck pulled into the lot. They waited while it parked, the driver and a passenger getting out and making their way to the bar’s door. After they were alone again, Eddie said, “We didn’t exactly run around in the same crowd in high school.”

  “I was friends with everyone,” she pointed out. “It’s called being friendly.”

  He was so close she could see the dark stubble on his face. “I don’t want to be a part of the crowd that you call friends. I’m attracted to you.”

  But he didn’t touch her and she wished, oh, how she wished, he would. That he’d take the initiative with his actions as well as his words, words that he was so stingy with but that somehow warmed her heart anyway.

  He wouldn’t make any move on her, she knew. Not after she’d already rejected him. If he did, she could claim that he’d taken the decision away from her. If he grabbed her and yanked her against him, kissed the living daylights out of her, she could pretend she’d had no choice. That he’d taken away her ability to think, along with her ability to refuse him, with his actions.

  He was a man of actions, that much was certain. She was a woman of words. But she had no idea what to say to get him to do what she so desperately wanted.

  She’d have to show him. Would have to make the first move.

  Oh, God.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  ANTICIPATION BUILT INSIDE Harper, mixed with a hefty dose of fear to make her knees weak even as her resolve strengthened.

  Why deny yourself?

  He’d asked her that a few hours ago but it seemed more appropriate now, even if the hunger she felt was for something much more enticing and dangerous than extra carbs.

  She slowly laid her hands on his chest. He was solid. Warm. She wished he didn’t have on a jacket, that she could feel his heart under her hand to see if it beat as erratically as hers. But he didn’t pull away, didn’t reject her as she’d done to him. She’d take those as good signs.

  She edged closer to him so that the front of their thighs touched. “Be patient with me,” she said on barely a sound as she rose onto her toes and slid her hands to his shoulders.

  Holding his gaze, she brushed her mouth against his. His breath shuddered out, the shakiness of the action giving her courage. Confidence.

  “Okay?” she asked.

  He nodded, settled his hands on her hips. But he didn’t tug her close, didn’t close the distance between their mouths. This was entirely up to her, every move, every decision.

  It was intoxicating, the power and freedom. It was also terrifying.

  But she couldn’t stop now. Didn’t want to stop.

  She kissed him again. And again. Soft kisses as she learned the shape and texture of his mouth. The stubble on his chin lightly scraped against her upper lip but that, too, was exciting. Different. Every time a thought entered her head, one reminding her she was standing in the middle of a parking lot where anyone could see her, that she was kissing the father of one of her students, that this man—this quiet, reserved man—was not her husband, she pushed it aside.

  No, Eddie wasn’t Beau. She didn’t want him to be anyone other than who he was, and she wouldn’t disrespect either of them by thinking of her husband now.

  She let her fingers drift into the thick hair curling at Eddie’s nape. Slowed down so that each kiss was longer, deeper. Unable to help herself, she swept her tongue against his mouth and he groaned, his fingers tightening on her hips.

  Still, he didn’t take over, he let her set the pace. Let her give him as much as she was able without pushing her or asking for more.

  She touched the tip of her tongue to his and, at the taste of him, was lost. Time seemed to stop until she had no idea how long they stood there, mouths clinging, bodies separated by mere inches. Slowly, faintly, sanity and reason returned. The sound of the Eagles’ “Take it Easy” reached her. Someone hailed a friend then laughed. Then it all muted again.

  Breaking the kiss, Harper lowered to her heels but kept her hands on his shoulders. She liked touching him. Liked knowing she could touch him, that he wanted her to.

  Was glad he kept his hands on her, as well.

  Her head spun, her entire body tingled painfully as if her limbs had gone to sleep and were now waking. As if she’d been in hibernation all these months. Warmth pooled low in her stomach, desire began a slow burn in her blood.

  For the first time since that horrible night when the police had come to her door and told her Beau was dead, she felt as if she was still alive. Fully, truly alive and not sleepwalking through her own life.

  She felt, for the first time in a long time, like a woman again. Not a mother, teacher, daughter or friend.

  A woman, someone bold enough to kiss a handsome man in the middle of a parking lot. One sexy enough, desirous enough to gain his attention. His attraction.

  “You look pleased with yourself,” Eddie noted.

  “Do I?” She must. Satisfaction flowed through her, a smile stretched her lips. “Maybe I am. I’ve never done that before.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “You sure? You were damned good at it.”

  She blushed. “I meant I’ve never been the one to initiate a first—or, I guess in this case, second—kiss.”

  She’d always let the guys she’d dated set the pace, make the move.

  Eddie rubbed his thumbs along her lower back, eliciting shivers of pleasure along her skin. “I’d never had a woman throw brownies at me until you.”

  She laughed and reluctantly pulled away. “I like that we’re each other’s first for something.”

  “Me, too.” He reached past her and held the door open. She slid behind the steering wheel. “Drive safe.”

  He shut the door, waited as she turned on the ignition, buckled her seat belt.

  When she married Beau, she’d thought her firsts were done. No more first dates or that nerve-wracking first kiss. No more first time getting naked with someone, first time having sex. No more fir
st time saying I love you.

  And that’d been more than okay with her because she’d had Beau. She didn’t need the excitement and anticipation of a first time. She’d had forever.

  Only forever hadn’t lasted nearly long enough.

  She pulled out of the parking lot, glanced in her rearview mirror to see Eddie watching her, his hands on his hips, his dark hair ruffling in the night breeze. She turned the corner, thoughts of her husband filling her head, and the taste of another man on her lips.

  * * *

  EDDIE HATED SLEEPOVERS.

  Not the kind he had with women. Those were excellent—and thinking about that immediately brought Harper to mind and the heart-stopping kiss she’d given him last night.

  The kiss he hadn’t been able to get out of his head as he’d tossed and turned alone in his bed. He wanted to make love to her, wake up with her and do it all over again.

  Yeah, those kind of sleepovers were just fine with him.

  The sleepovers he hated were the ones involving Max. Whenever his kid spent the night somewhere, the excitement and lack of sleep combined to make for one miserable seven-year-old the next day. But this? This was ten times worse.

  When Lena had brought Max to the ice rink for his game, he’d been sullen and short-tempered, had snapped at his grandmother when she’d asked him if he wanted a sports drink for the game, pouted when Eddie refused to let him get a cookie and pushed and shoved his way to the head of the line for warm-ups.

  If all of that hadn’t been bad enough, he’d been a demon on the ice—and not in a good way. He’d hogged the puck, ignored his coach’s instructions, yelled at his teammates and, the final straw, made a little girl on the opposite team cry when he checked her so hard, she left her feet and hit her elbow on the ice when she landed.