Men of courage

by Lori Foster

  He’d thought this was about her, and what he could do for her. Take her mind off the storm. Keep her safe. Keep her comforted.

  But he’d been fooling himself, it wasn’t about that at all. From the moment they’d ended up in this basement, she’d been keeping his mind off the storm. She’d been keeping him safe. Keeping him comforted. “We can’t.”

  “Why not? We’re both consenting adults.”

  Yeah, Matt, why not? “We don’t have protection.”

  “I’m… on the pill.” She looked away. “I, um, like the regularity.”

  “The pill isn’t protection against—”

  “I haven’t… done this in a long time.” Her voice dropped to a low whisper. “A very long time.”

  His heart took yet another stumble, and he cupped her soft cheek in his hand. “Me neither.”

  Her gaze flew up to his. “You… haven’t?”

  “No.”

  “Then let me—”

  “No. Let me.”

  Her breath caught when he trailed his fingers down her cheek, caressing her jaw. He’d never in his entire life touched a woman this way, this slow, purposeful memorizing of features. But Molly put a craving deep inside him he’d never felt before, a need he’d never felt before. His mouth skimmed over hers, once. Then again.

  She made a whimpering sound in her throat and pressed closer, and the kisses turned wild and wet and deep, as necessary as air. Everything about her attracted him; her touch, her scent, her smile. He didn’t know how he could get enough of her in just this one heavenly interlude, but he would try.

  Cupping her breasts, he rasped his thumbs over the nipples that were already hard for him.

  “Matt.” Her sigh came thick and husky, and made him want more. She lifted her hands and held them to the backs of his.

  As she did, taking her hands off the too big sweats she wore, the material slipped off her hips. Past her knees.

  Puddled around her ankles.

  With a gasp, she would have bent and reached for them, but Matt held her still with one arm very carefully hooked around her waist, lower than her bruised ribs. The other toyed with the hem of the shirt that covered her to mid-thigh.

  Dressed only in the shirt now, with the sweats still pooled at her feet, it took nothing more than a slight touch here, a button undone there, and the shirt floated down as well, leaving her soft and pale and gleaming by candlelight.

  With a dreamy smile she reached out and untied his own bottoms, then added a shove of her hands until they both stood there bathed in the flicker of candlelight and anticipation.

  Supporting her weight, he worshiped her breasts one at a time until her breath came in hard pants, her hands clutching and unclutching his shoulders, his name on her lips.

  Taking care with her bound ribs, he laid her on the cot, but he didn’t get on it with her.

  Eyes opaque with desire, she blinked. “Matt?”

  Kneeling on the floor at her hip, he turned the other way and kissed the very top of her big right toe.

  “Matt?”

  With a glance over his shoulder, he sent her an innocent smile. “Hasn’t anyone ever kissed your toe before?”

  “No.” She was looking at him with a heart-melting mixture of shameless need and wariness. Then her breath sucked in hard when he trailed his tongue up her calf.

  “How about there?” he asked.

  “Uh—” She broke off with a strangled gasp when he took a foot in each hand and spread her legs so he could kiss the inside of her knee.

  Then above that knee, eliciting another gasp.

  “Or here, I take it?” he murmured, dotting openmouthed kisses over the tender skin inside her thigh.

  “N-no.”

  “Hmm.” Slowly, ever so slowly, he moved his hands up her legs until his fingers met, and then he kissed her there, there, light feathery kisses that tasted like pure heaven.

  She cried out, her breath coming in little gasps while her fingers fisted themselves in his hair. “Ohmi—”

  “Good?”

  “Oh, yeah.” The low, rough sounds she made as he pleasured her nearly undid him. “Please, Matt…”

  “Come.” With slow, knowing care, he took her into his mouth. “I want you to.”

  Watching her, touching her, tasting her as she did just that was everything. He used his fingers, his mouth, and then she was arching back, shuddering, shuddering, shuddering, sobbing out his name while he slowly brought her back to earth.

  “Hold on to me,” he whispered, shifting between her legs, careful to keep his weight off her ribs as he slowly sank into her. “Oh, baby, you feel good.”

  She opened her eyes on his, her own bright and shimmering and full of unspeakable emotion as she gripped his upper arms and lifted her hips, desperately seeking the same thing he was, burying her tongue in his mouth when he lowered himself over her.

  Desperately afraid he was looking into his future, his heart, he closed his eyes and thrust home. She was hot and wet, and his. His. He felt release coming too hard, too fast, from his body and his heart, and he tried to hold back, to regain some control.

  “No,” she murmured, reaching down, gripping his hips in her hands, urging him on, urging him to match the flex and pull of her movements. Then they were reaching together, for something he’d thought impossible…

  The moment, when it came, was shockingly powerful. And together their breathing, their bodies, became one.

  When it was over and they lay panting in each other’s arms, Matt held her, overwhelmed by an emotion he had no defense against. It would fade now, any second, he told himself. She’d sated him physically. It was over.

  But her arms still clung to him, and he waited for the inevitable claustrophobic feeling he always felt when a woman clung.

  He waited.

  And waited.

  Then, with a low, sexy purr that started his engines again, Molly kissed his ear.

  And still, Matt waited. Yeah, any moment now. The glowing emotions would fade away, leaving him back the way he’d been before.

  But Molly turned her head, lined up their mouths.

  His body was already hard again when they made love a second time. And then a third. And still, the emotions never faded.

  “Do you hear that?” Molly asked. They were sitting on the floor, Matt pretending they hadn’t just shattered each other while making love over and over, and Molly pretending it didn’t matter what he thought.

  Matt set down his bottled water and got to his feet. Turning away from her, he studied the door they’d crawled through sometime yesterday. “I don’t hear anything.”

  “Exactly.”

  He whipped back toward her, his mouth dropping. “My God. You’re right. It’s… over.”

  Yeah. And he was climbing the walls to get out there and on to his work. His life.

  It wasn’t easy for Molly to admit she’d hoped the storm would never end, but she did. She’d come to life here in Matt’s arms, as she never had before.

  Because of it, she now knew what people meant when they spoke of love, just as she now knew exactly what she’d been missing.

  “Yeah, it’s over,” she whispered, but she was talking to his bare, sleek back because he’d turned toward the door and was trying to pry it open.

  “Don’t you want to get dressed back into your clothes first?” Anything to postpone the inevitable. Anything to have a few more moments.

  He turned back, his chest heaving from the exertion. “Yeah, good idea.”

  He headed toward the back shelving unit where they’d spread out their drenched clothes. Without any of the hesitation currently stabbing her heart, he collected their things.

  Handing hers to her, he grimaced. “They’re not dried all the way through, so they’re probably going to be cold and damp.”

  “Better than nothing,” she said, clutching her stuff to her chest, trying not to stare as he unselfconsciously dropped the sweats from his hips, leaving him gloriously
nude for one moment before he stepped into his clothes.

  Then, realizing she wasn’t doing the same, he cocked his head in concern. “You okay? Your head hurting again? You dizzy, or—”

  “I’m fine.” And she would be. Even if it killed her.

  Which it might.

  Her clothes were indeed still damp. And cold. And her heart hurt. So did her ribs. But hell if she was going to say a word about any of that while he walked right out of her life.

  Nope, she was going to hold her head up and watch him go.

  But she didn’t expect him to come close. To take her clothes from her suddenly cold fingers. Didn’t expect him to smile a smile that reached her chilled heart as he stripped her out of his grandfather’s spare clothes.

  “You’re beautiful,” he whispered, his breath catching as she let go of the shirt and held out her arms for her own, causing her breasts to sway inches from his face. “So beautiful.”

  Her nipples hardened. Not because she was cold, but because of him. For him. “Matt…”

  His expression shuttered, and he turned away. Got to his feet. “I need to see the house.”

  “I know.” She buttoned herself up and came up behind him, staring at his stiff shoulders, knowing he was already lost to her, already out there and moving on.

  Then he muscled the door open and reached back for her hand. “Ready?”

  No.

  “Molly?”

  “Yes.” She forced a smile. “I’m ready.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Matt climbed out of the storm cellar, his heart in his throat as he reached back to help Molly. Around him the rain was still coming down, only gently now. The wind had died, leaving them in a world of eerie silences.

  He didn’t let himself register the south wall of the house, or the west wall as they walked around without talking, their feet sinking into inches of mud.

  But as they came around to the front and he could see, he let out the deep breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

  The house still stood.

  Half the windows were gone, as was the porch and the veranda, and a good portion of the upstairs roof, but the foundation had held.

  He still had the legacy that suddenly meant more to him than he could have imagined.

  Or maybe not so suddenly, he thought as Molly reached for his hand, also staring in won-der at the house. “Wow.” She smiled at him through her exhaustion and lingering injuries and all they’d shared. “It’s still here.”

  “Yeah.”

  “I’m so glad, Matt.” Turning to him, she slipped her arms around him and hugged gently. His arms wrapped around her and for a moment he buried his face in her hair and wondered what it would be like to hold her like this every single day for the rest of his life.

  Then he remembered he didn’t do forever.

  “I’m so glad for you,” she said, clinging as hard as she could without hurting her ribs. “Your life will be the same, just as you wanted.”

  Yeah. Just what he’d wanted.

  So why couldn’t he let her go?

  A honk startled them both. Coming down the washed-out driveway was a truck, driven by a high school kid Matt instantly recognized. He couldn’t remember the boy’s name but he was part of a volunteer group at the hospital.

  “Dr. Walker,” he yelled out the window, waving his free hand. “You’re here!” He hopped out of the truck, sank into the mud up to his ankles and grinned in relief. “Dr. Salenski sent me out here looking for you, thinking maybe you were stranded. I’m sorry, Doc, but you’re needed at the hospital, pronto.”

  Good. Great. He was needed at the hospital. By Dr. Salenski no less, his friend and boss. The only man who’d think to find him here because he was the only one at work who even knew about the house. “We need a lift,” he said, and when he felt Molly take a step back, he grabbed her hand.

  “You’ve got to go.” She stared down at their joined hands, hiding her expression from him when her curls fell into her face. “So… goodbye.” She tried to tug free but he wouldn’t, couldn’t, let her go.

  “Molly.” Suddenly he could hardly take a breath. “Where do you think you’re going to go?”

  “Home.”

  He didn’t know where that was. Panic flared, and he held up a finger to the kid, who nodded. Then he grabbed Molly’s other hand and pulled her toward him.

  They weren’t touching except for their fingers; he couldn’t touch her again because that would be continuing this amazing interlude beyond what they’d both wanted.

  Wouldn’t it?

  “I want you to come with me,” he said quietly. “I want you checked out.!‘

  “I’m fine, Matt.”

  “You’re coming. She’s coming,” he said to the kid, and before she could pull her hands free, he’d opened the truck door.

  She ground her heels in and gave him a look that made him sigh.

  She was going to be stubborn. Fine. She couldn’t wait to get out of his life, but damn it, he apparently needed more time. “Moll, there is no electricity, not to mention there isn’t a phone for miles. I’m not leaving you here. Don’t ask me to.”

  For a long heartbeat she just stared at him, and he wished he could read her mind, but then she got into the truck.

  The ride to the hospital was long. Cramped. Her thigh was pressed to his thigh, her arm against his side. The shocking devastation of the storm should have sidetracked him from that connection he had with her, but it didn’t.

  Wanting more, he lifted his arm so that at the next turn she sort of fell into him. He liked that, or he would have if she hadn’t held herself so stiffly, clearly not wanting to be touching him at all.

  When they got to the hospital, his staff practically jumped him, overwhelmed with the crowd, the demands of the storm and the injured. Matt wanted to treat Molly himself, check her out thoroughly, but before he could, one of the nurses gently pulled her away.

  By the time he’d delegated as much of the crisis as he could, and run to the cubicle he knew they’d put her in, it was empty.

  If he thought he’d felt panic before, it took over his body now. His heart pumped, his mouth dry. “Where is she?” he demanded of a nurse in such a raw tone she blinked in surprise. “The woman being treated in this cubicle,” he repeated. “Where did she go?”

  “Uh…” She consulted her clipboard. “Molly Stanton?”

  Stanton. Thank God, there would be records. He’d be able to find her if he was too late—

  “She just left—”

  Before the nurse could finish the sentence, he took off, dodging nurses and patients as he headed toward the exit, searching for that blond mop of curls. “Molly,” he said with huge relief, turning her around—

  “Sorry,” the woman who wasn’t Molly said with a regretful smile. “But—”

  Matt kept running.

  He’d thought he’d needed out of that storm cellar; he’d thought he’d needed to get back to his own life. But as the hours had passed, and Molly had brought him to life in a way he hadn’t expected, he realized the truth.

  He hadn’t saved her.

  She saved him.

  It was true. While the world had raged above them, in her arms he’d discovered heaven.

  He skidded to a halt at the double glass doors, searching right and left. She couldn’t have gone far, not yet, he assured himself. Not when he’d just come to understand something else.

  Now he understood exactly what he’d been missing all his life, something he just might have found in the most unbelievable storm of his life…

  “Molly.” He nearly collapsed in gratitude when he saw her petite form waving down a cab. He ran up to her, then was so out of breath he had to bend over and put his hands on his knees. He, who ran five miles every other day. “I…”

  “It’s okay, Matt,” she said softly, opening the door of the cab. “I know.”

  “You… know what?”

  “This is goodbye.” She touched h
is face. “I’ll never forget you. Ever.”

  “No.” He grabbed her hand when she would have slid into the cab.

  “No… what?”

  “No. I don’t want it to be goodbye.”

  She went utterly still. “What are you saying?”

  He’d given speeches. Classes. Lectures. He’d been barking orders all his life, so why now did his tongue suddenly tie up on the most important speech of his life?

  “Look, I know you wanted an adventure. You wanted to restart your life. I know these past few days gave you the courage to do that, but I don’t want to just be the catalyst, Molly. I want…”

  Her gaze searched his. “You want…”

  What? What exactly did he want? Tell her!

  Her eyes went a little sad when he couldn’t spit out the words, and she patted his shoulder. “Thank you,” she whispered. “Thank you for saving my life.”

  She slid into the cab.

  He grabbed the door, held it open. “You saved me. I’m thanking you.”

  “Matt—”

  “And now I want you to save me every day for the rest of my life. I love you, Molly.”

  Her eyes widened. She swiveled, looked at the cabdriver, then stared at Matt again. Slowly she got back out of the cab. Shut the door. “Could… could you repeat that?”

  “I want you to save me—”

  “The last part please,” she said very shakily. “Just that last part.”

  Feeling the fist around his heart loosen, he pulled her close and buried his face in her neck, inhaling her scent, knowing now he would never, ever, get tired of saying it. Lifting his head, he smiled down into her face. “I love you. Now could you say you might possibly feel the same way about me someday in the near future so I can breathe again?”

  “I might possibly feel the same about you in the very near future,” she repeated obediently, then threw her arms around his neck. “Matt… how does now sound? How about, I love you now?”

  All his tension dissipated and he grinned. “Now sounds just about perfect.”

  EPILOGUE

  “So you were saved by a woman.”

  Matt put the cell phone to his shoulder, which freed up his hands to hold Molly close. “You’re taking that out of context, Luke.”