by Heidi Betts
Reaching down, he tugged at the bottom of her nightie and dragged the yellow fabric to her waist. His knuckles brushed the sides of her high-cut panties and he started to sweat.
He had to have her. Now, before she changed her mind or he admitted all the reasons they shouldn’t be together.
Their hands went for the waistband of his jeans at the same time. Eyes meeting, chests heaving, they both gave a breathless chuckle.
His pants opened with a snap and her hand was on the zipper covering his straining erection when the doorbell rang.
His heart stuttered to a stop and then sank as her fingers stilled at their task. For a split second, he considered grabbing her up and kissing her silly, until she forgot about the door, forgot about being interrupted, forgot even her own name.
But already the passion was clearing from her gaze, replaced by stark reality. She didn’t look horrified, exactly, but she also didn’t look ready to roll to the floor and finish what they’d started.
The doorbell buzzed again.
“I think that’s the pizza,” she said finally, her voice husky with unspent desire.
“Yeah.” He held her gaze for another minute, concentrating on his breathing and trying to get some of the blood that had taken up residence south of the border back to his brain.
His chin dropped to his chest when the delivery guy switched from leaning on the bell to pounding on the door frame.
“Coming,” he barked, pushing to his feet and crossing the living room. He tugged at the front of his jeans, attempting to alleviate the pressure behind his fly and then dug in his hip pocket for his wallet.
As soon as he opened the door, a gangly teenage boy in a Pizza Palace T-shirt shoved the flat white box at him and snapped out the price. Connor threw in an extra five for the kid’s trouble before kicking the door closed with the toe of his boot.
When he turned, Beth was off the couch, arranging her short, shimmery robe to cover the wet spots his mouth had made on her bodice. The memory slugged him in the gut and sent the air from his lungs with a whoosh.
If he had his way, he’d toss the pizza on the kitchen table, stalk back across the living room and sweep her off her feet so they could pick up where they’d left off. He wouldn’t give her time to think or breathe or protest.
But Beth didn’t look as if she was ready or willing to return to that place of passion where they’d just been.
He sighed. Too bad. He’d thought they were making progress.
“Pizza smells good,” he said, hoping to break the tension growing between them. “Wanna get some plates?”
“Sure.” The arms that had been hugging her waist fell to her sides as she headed for the kitchen from the opposite direction.
He wasn’t offended by her decision to avoid brushing past him. He understood her need for distance, even if he didn’t particularly like it.
Crossing back to the sofa, he set the box on the long rectangular coffee table and took a seat to pop open the lid. A second later, Beth sat down beside him, two dinner plates and a stack of napkins in hand.
He served up two slices on each plate, then refilled their wineglasses. Beth accepted the pizza he offered, balancing it on her knees while her eyes remained downcast.
“Maybe I should take mine up to my room,” she murmured, brushing a lock of hair behind one ear. “You could finish watching your television show or whatever.”
She wouldn’t look at him, and Connor nearly cursed.
Where had the hot, frantic woman from only moments ago gone? Or even the prickly, sharp-tongued one from earlier in the day?
“No, don’t do that,” he said, brushing his hand down the length of her arm. His touch didn’t linger, and he was relieved that she didn’t stiffen up on him. “Stay here. We’ll stick in a DVD and stuff ourselves silly.”
At first, she didn’t answer him. Then she raised her head, met his eyes and curled her lips in a small smile. “All right. But I get to pick the film.”
He threw himself against the back of the couch, clutching his chest and giving an exaggerated groan. “Oh, no. Not some girlie movie.”
Her grin widened. “Maybe.”
She took a bite off the tip of her pizza slice, then got up and sauntered to the entertainment center on the other side of the room.
Connor watched her go, admiring the sway of her bottom and the long, pale line of her legs. She looked like a million bucks, and in that sunny-colored nightgown, good enough to eat. Next to her, the pizza he’d been so hungry for only an hour before might as well have been cardboard.
After shuffling around in the cupboard, she placed a disc in the player on top of the television, then made her way back to the sofa. She kept her distance this time, leaving one full cushion between them before retrieving her glass of wine and pressing Play on the remote control.
“Should I be worried?” he asked around a mouthful of cheese and crust and assorted toppings.
Her shoulder lifted and fell, but her eyes never left the television screen. “Depends.”
The opening credits began to play, along with music he recognized. He grinned as he realized she’d chosen one of his favorites…Keanu Reeves and Sandra Bullock trying to stay alive on a speeding bus. It was an action/adventure flick, but could probably also be categorized as a romance.
“A woman after my own heart,” he told her, taking an even bigger bite of pizza.
“I’m a Curtis,” she retorted, “so of course I have exceptional taste.”
“Uh-huh. I’m just glad I didn’t let you order the pizza. We might have ended up with some horrible tofu-and-pineapple concoction.”
“Don’t scoff. Tofu is good for you.”
“I’ll stick with my meat and vegetables, thanks.”
“Suit yourself.” She picked at a green pepper melted into the cheese of what was left of her first slice. “You know, I’m going to have to run ten miles tomorrow to burn this off.”
Even as she said it, she lifted the crust to her lips, so he knew she must not be too concerned.
“Maybe I’ll go with you.” He blurted it out before he had a chance to rethink the idea, but when she shot him a look of pure disbelief, he almost wished he’d kept his mouth shut.
So he didn’t make a habit of jogging. He worked hard on a daily basis, building and renovating houses—carrying lumber, shingles, climbing ladders… And he stopped at the gym once in a while, though probably not as often as he should. No, he didn’t tend to put on shorts and sneakers and go running around the neighborhood—but for Beth, he’d be willing to give it a try.
“What?” he asked, feigning insult. “You don’t think I can run?”
“Oh, I’m sure you can run. Away from a bear. Toward a cold beer. But for exercise?” She laughed, and then covered her mouth with a napkin when she started to choke. “No, I’m sorry, I can’t picture that.”
He quirked a brow, staring hard until her gaze faltered. “Fine. I’ll just have to prove it to you. What time do you want to go in the morning?”
“Six.”
That wasn’t even particularly early for him. He was up before that lots of mornings in order to get to job sites on time.
“Six it is.”
She eyed him warily over the rim of her wineglass. “You’re really going through with this, huh?”
“Just see if you can keep up.”
Beth was trying hard not to laugh. She concentrated on her pace and her breathing, struggling not to burst a lung with the effort to hide her amusement.
He was hanging in there, she’d give him that.
He’d been up bright and early this morning, already dressed in shorts and a T-shirt when she’d come downstairs. The sneakers were Nick’s, found in a hall closet, he told her, but they seemed to fit well enough. Connor and Nick had always been about the same size, sharing clothes and shoes and everything else.
They’d grabbed bottles of water before heading out, then started at a slow trot from the curb. It was still
dusky outside, with just a hint of sunrise peeking through on the bluish purple horizon.
And it was chilly. That odd time of year when true winter has passed, but spring hadn’t quite made its birds-and-flowers appearance yet. The ground was wet, the air chilly, the sky studded with clouds.
At first, Connor did great. He even seemed to be doing better than she was, since she was used to running on a state-of-the-art treadmill at the gym with her headset to keep her company instead of an unswept, leaf- and gravel-strewn sidewalk with the sounds of dogs barking and car doors slamming as neighbors left for work.
Jogging side by side, they chatted about the weather—typical for central Ohio at this time of year, but a far cry from the sunny California she was used to—and some of the items they needed to pick up at the hardware store later that day to start work on the nursery.
Then she’d kicked it up a notch, increasing her pace and working her arms for the added burn. She gave him credit for his effort, but it wasn’t long before he fell behind and started heaving for breath.
Not that he was out of shape. Far from it, judging by his firm thighs and calves, and the rippling muscles outlined beneath his sweat-dampened T-shirt. He was simply used to a different kind of exercise—hauling and sawing and hammering.
She pictured him in his usual uniform of faded jeans and open flannel shirt, doing what he did best amidst sawhorses and power tools, and nearly lost her footing.
Righting herself, she glanced at Connor from her peripheral vision and decided he’d had enough. They’d been out for at least an hour, and stubborn as he was, he would probably keep running until it killed him, just to prove a point.
She slowed a bit, waiting for him to catch up as the house came into view. It was lighter now, though still overcast, with a hint of rain in the air. Likely that storm the lady at the airline had warned her about…though she still thought she should have been able to get a flight out before it hit.
“You doing okay?” she asked, knowing full well what his answer would be.
“Oh, yeah,” he huffed, beads of sweat rolling down his face. “I could keep running like this all day.”
Sure he could. She turned her head so he wouldn’t see her grin.
“That’s great,” she said, “but I think we’ve had enough for today. With any luck, we’ve burned off at least one slice of pizza and one glass of wine from last night.”
They stopped at the walk to her brother’s house. She continued to jog in place until her heart rate slowed while Connor bent at the waist, hands on his knees as he fought to fill his lungs with oxygen.
Her breathing was labored, too, but she was used to it. She loved it, actually, found it exhilarating.
“I say we get cleaned up and go into town.”
Part of the reason she’d wanted to go running was to offset some of her anxiety about not only spending the day shopping and working with Connor, but about buying baby things and concentrating on designing a nursery.
She knew it would be difficult, was already bracing herself for the pain. Surprisingly, though, she now felt more prepared for the task. Not exactly looking forward to it, but stronger and better able to handle whatever emotions the day stirred up.
“Sounds good. Do you want first dibs on the shower?”
He straightened, wiping his forehead with the tail of his shirt, giving her a clear glimpse of those tight, well-defined abdominals she’d fantasized about earlier. It was enough to make a girl drool.
She took a long swig of water to wet her parched throat, wiping the corners of her mouth afterward, just in case.
“No, you go ahead.”
He looked as if he needed it more. And besides, she could use a few minutes alone before getting undressed and stepping into the shower. If she went upstairs now, she would have to turn the spray to full cold, but if she waited a while, she might be able to go with moderate to lukewarm.
“You sure?”
She nodded, starting up the front steps and fitting the key in the lock.
Brushing past her, he made his way through the house and up the stairs. She listened to his footfalls, followed by the sound of the water coming on in the bathroom.
While he was busy in the shower, she put their half-empty bottles of water in the fridge, then went to her room to lay out an outfit for the rest of the day. She hadn’t packed work clothes…wasn’t sure she even owned true down-and-dirty work clothes anymore. But she found a pair of navy blue slacks and a lightweight tan knit top that would hopefully be casual enough—as long as Connor didn’t put her to work painting or scrubbing.
The water in the bathroom cut off, and she heard him moving around for a few minutes before the door opened. When she glanced up, he was standing in the hall just outside her bedroom.
His close-cropped hair was wet, making it appear more dark brown than dirty blond. A drop of water fell from one of the spiky locks, rolling down his temple, cheek and stubbled jawline before dripping onto his bare chest.
What a fine chest it was, too. Broad and firm. Smooth in places, a sprinkling of light hair in others.
She watched the drop of water slide past one flat, bronze nipple to the plane of his washboard stomach. A few inches below, a stark white towel was wrapped around his hips.
“The bathroom is all yours,” he said in a low tone.
Licking her lips, she dragged her gaze back to his face. His eyes smoldered, lips twisted in the hint of a grin.
Great. Not only had she ogled him, but he’d caught her at it.
Way to maintain your distance, Beth, she thought with derision.
Then again, their little makeout session on the couch last night hadn’t exactly screamed disinterest.
“Thanks,” she said, embarrassed when her voice actually squeaked.
She’d moved to L.A. to get away from Connor and had matured by leaps and bounds. But ever since returning to Crystal Springs, she seemed to be regressing to her pathetic, high-school-crush persona.
All the more reason to get out of here and fly back to California as soon as possible. Maybe then she could regain a bit of her equilibrium.
Seconds ticked by while they stood there staring at each other. They didn’t speak, didn’t move until stars started to burst behind Beth’s eyeballs and she realized she’d been holding her breath almost the entire time.
With conscious effort, she exhaled and began to breathe normally. Turning, she gathered the pile of fresh clothes from the bed, then slipped through the doorway and toward the bathroom, careful not to touch Connor’s bare arm or chest as she passed.
“I’ll only be a few minutes,” she told him.
“Take your time.”
She cast one last glance over her shoulder before closing the bathroom door, and a shiver raced down her spine at the look of lustful intent on his face.
Worse yet was the echo of that expression strumming low in her belly.
The door clicked shut, and she released a weary sigh.
It looked as if she’d be taking that cold shower, after all.
“Clowns are passé.”
“Oh, and teddy bears are all the rage?”
Beth cocked a hip and crossed her arms beneath her breasts. “At least they’re cute and cuddly.” She pointed to one of the clowns on the border wallpaper he was holding. “Those are downright scary.”
He lowered his gaze and studied the colorful artwork for a minute, then stuck the roll back on the rack. “You’re right. These clowns would probably give the kid nightmares. But I can’t say I love the bears.”
The teddy-bear border in her hand was cute—soft and cuddly in an array of pastels. But he had a point; they were kind of boring and probably like every other border in every other nursery in the world.
“All right. No clowns and no teddy bears. What are our other options?”
They started to investigate their choices again, and she thought—not for the first time—how much she was enjoying herself.
She hadn’t ex
pected to. If anything, she’d been prepared for the day to be akin to shoving bamboo shoots under her fingernails.
After they were both cleaned up, dressed and had grabbed a quick breakfast of toast and orange juice, they’d headed for the hardware store. Beth pretty much let Connor take the lead there, since he made his living building things. Her knowledge of carpentry didn’t extend much beyond the difference between a hammer and measuring tape.
He’d bought supplies to make some new shelving, and to pull up the old carpet and refinish the hardwood floor beneath. If the floor was in too much disrepair to be left bare, he’d told her, they’d go out and buy new carpeting later.
But now they were in Crystal Springs’s one and only retail store, and she’d taken over the shopping list. They were holding off buying furniture…partly because there wouldn’t be space to store it until the room was finished, and partly because she didn’t think they could be completely sure what type of crib, changing table or rocking chair they needed until everything else was done. They were waiting to decide on curtains and area rugs for the same reason.
Unfortunately, they’d made the mistake of buying paint already at the hardware store. In retrospect, they’d have been better off waiting until they picked out a border or other items before settling on a color for the room. It was too late now, though; the soft seafoam, a cross between green and blue that would be perfect for either a boy or a girl, was already mixed and waiting in the back of Connor’s truck.
“What about this?” Beth asked, holding up a roll of paper for him to see, along with the paint sample they’d brought along from the hardware store. “The blues and greens will match,” she said. “And the little sea creatures are just adorable.”
There were playful dolphins and turtles, orcas and jellyfish…even a few sharks and octopi that anyone would find charming.
Connor met her gaze and gave her one of those sexy, lopsided grins that filled her belly with butterfly wings. “I like it. We could even buy a bunch of stuffed animals for the crib and shelves and rocker to match.”