“Thanks, but my friend just had a baby. I’m bringing some provisions,” he said holding up the bag.
“Congrats. I’ll keep my eye out at the office for you.” He clapped a hand on Damien’s back and strode to the corner table where he came from.
The clouds that hung at the horizon when he entered the restaurant now rolled overhead. A strong gust of wind whipped at his T-shirt, and he wished for Lindsey’s car. He got on his bike and hoped for the best, but the black clouds above hinted toward a wild and wet ride. The rain held until he pulled into the driveway of the cottage and then it started pelting down in thick sheets. He raced to the door, greeted Daisy, and turned the oven on low. Damien transferred the chicken and pasta to a casserole dish and set it inside to warm.
The house was quiet and dark. He tiptoed down the hall, because somewhere in the cottage was a tiny sleeping angel that turned into a beast when awakened. He found mother and baby asleep in the rocker. They made a picture, one that tugged at his heart. Lindsey’s head drooped slightly so that her check rested lightly on the baby’s hair. Maris had her head angled toward her mother’s chest. Damien knelt beside them and just watched for a moment. What was he going to do about these feelings ballooning inside him? Seeing them added a happy light to his days, and a joy he didn’t know he could feel again after seeing so much dark, so much pain.
It was more than want, he was sure of it. He’d had women before and never felt an ounce of the affection he felt toward Lindsey. Maybe it was because every other woman paled in comparison to her. Because physically, the jolt of their first unsteady and clumsy kiss when they were kids overpowered everything he experienced after—like having sponge cake after tasting crème brûlée.
It was the first kiss that made him pull away from her and the friendship they’d forged. And why? At the time, he had convinced himself he was doing her a favor by backing away. She was out of his league in every sense. Lindsey came from a respected family, was popular, and had good grades. Damien ran with the wrong crowd, scraped by in school, and his home life had been a train wreck. Now he could see that those were excuses—they were justified, but excuses all the same. He’d been afraid of getting too close, of caring too much, because the one person who had truly got him, the person who had given him life, and was supposed to cherish him above all else, had left. He always wondered if there was something wrong with him—something that made her leave. If he and Lindsey got involved, part of him was terrified that she’d leave him, too, just like his mother.
Lindsey stirred and murmured something in her sleep. He indulged himself by stroking his hand down her silken hair. If he could have all this, would staying in Chatham be such a terrible thing after all? Perhaps the constant reminders of his sad childhood could be replaced by something bright and beautiful with Lindsey and Maris. Lindsey’s eyes fluttered, then popped open.
“I didn’t mean to fall asleep with her in the chair,” she said. “It’s not safe to do that.” Her eyes were heavy from sleep, and so alluring.
“She’s all right and swaddled up close to you.” He ran a finger over the baby’s cozy blanket. Lindsey jumped when lightning flashed outside and thunder cracked overhead.
“Whoa. Can’t believe I was sleeping through that.” She angled her head to peek out the window.
“It’s bad out there. I just made it into the driveway when the sky opened up. I got dinner—whenever you’re ready.”
“I’ll lay Maris down. She might sleep through the storm,” she said.
Lindsey moved the baby away from her, exposing a perfectly rounded breast. Heat spread through him, and he got up to give her some privacy. Lindsey needed time to heal and recuperate from childbirth. Sex had to be the absolute furthest thing from her mind right now, and that was just fine. The saying was right; the best things were worth waiting for. Besides, he could show her how much he wanted to be part of her life in other ways, like shouldering some of the house work while she got some much-needed sleep. Damien inhaled through his nose and filled his lungs. He was seriously considering the possibility of staying.
He had set the table, poured drinks, and plated the food when Lindsey appeared. She’d tossed on a sweater that draped over her hips. He swallowed hard, she looked good with the soft material hugging her curves. Lightening illuminated the room and they both waited for the boom of thunder that followed. The dog whimpered and cowered under the kitchen table. Once they were both settled, Lindsey reached across the table and covered his hand with hers.
“When my parents visited today, I realized just how much you’ve been doing to help me. It’s been more than just preparing the nursery and fixing the cottage. You wash the dishes and pick up around here. You take Daisy for walks in the morning. Things have changed between us, and I don’t want you paying to stay anymore.” She squeezed his hand and searched his face.
“When your parents stopped by, it opened my eyes to some things, too.” He laced his fingers with hers, intertwining them. “I don’t want to be your boarder and I don’t want to be some friend passing through.” Her shoulders sank and she glanced down at the table. “Lindsey.” He spoke her name softly and she looked up at him. “I want more. What we have—it’s something different, something special. We would be cheating ourselves if we didn’t explore exactly what that could be.”
He could tell she wanted to as well even before she opened her mouth to speak. Something lit in her eyes, happiness? Hope?
“Damien.” She laughed out a breath. “I’ve wanted that since that night we were paired up in Spin the Bottle.”
“I did, too.” He’d wanted her with a force close to gravity. Just as he wanted her now.
“Then why did you push me away?” She tilted her head and took a sip of her drink.
“The kiss—or what I felt from it—was too much. Everything was such a mess then. I couldn’t drag you into that.” Damien smirked at her to lighten the mood. “Besides, what would your parents have thought then if their daughter, the town sweetheart with the world at her fingertips, was dating the likes of me?”
Lindsey scoffed. “Don’t sell yourself short. I wanted you. That’s what should have mattered. And town sweetheart? That’s not how people saw me, Damien.”
“It’s how I saw you,” he murmured. “Sometimes I’d come to the football games and stand near the bleachers to see you cheer.” Her long, tanned legs and thigh-high red skirt had fueled most of his adolescent fantasies. “Still have that uniform?” He grinned.
“It wouldn’t cover half of my backside now—so no, the uniform is out of commission.”
“You wouldn’t find me complaining.” He loved the way her eyes lightened playfully when he joked with her.
“In all seriousness,” she said, “I think we should set some ground rules.”
“Okay, then. What are the rules?” Damien matched her thoughtful tone. He picked up his fork and twirled some pasta around it.
“We take things slowly—day by day. If either of us feels it’s not working, we end things as friends. And when your father’s house sells, you’ll give me fair warning before you leave.”
“Why are you so sure I’ll leave, Lindsey?” Her eyes shot up from her plate.
“You’re considering staying? Damien—you’ve hated this town ever since we were kids.”
“I’ve been seeing it in a different light lately.” He sent her a long look. Did she understand it was her and Maris that had changed the filter on his lens?
She stared at him for a long moment. “Why?”
“You chase away the shadows, and then Maris fills that space with light. I’m honest-to-God happy, and it has everything to do with you and that sweet baby.” He rubbed his thumb over her knuckles, and she blinked quickly a few times.
“Maybe everything we’ve gone through has been a stepping stone to bring us back together.” Lindsey’s voice was a delicate whisper but her words rocked him like the sea.
*
After they ate and put the d
ishes in the sink, Lindsey went down the hall to look in on the baby who was still sleeping soundly. Damien walked up behind her and kneaded her shoulders lightly.
“You should try to sleep while she is. It’s only a matter of time before the first late night feeding.” His breath caught when she turned into him.
“Come with me?” Goose bumps popped over his skin when her breath tickled his neck. When a bolt of lightning lit the dark hallway, he could see the desire in her eyes.
“It’s too soon. The doctor said it could take six weeks for you to feel back to normal. I don’t want to hurt you, Lindsey.”
“It seems like so long but it’s definitely too soon.” She ran her hands up his chest and his body reacted to her instantly.
“I can wait.” His voice was low and gruff. “For now, we can just cuddle.” He followed Lindsey into her bedroom, and climbed into bed beside her. The rain beating against the windows made the space seem like a warm cocoon. She snuggled up close to him. Damien circled his hand up and down her back and she arched up and kissed his chin. He angled his face to meet her lips—petal-soft and wanting.
The kiss started slow and sweet but it didn’t stay that way for long. Her hands were under his shirt, his were tangled in her hair. Their breath turned to fast pants and he pulled her hips into his. She pushed against him in a tantalizing rhythm, making the longing unbearable. His hands roamed over her shirt and a throb ebbed through him when they passed over her nipples, taut and hard against the cotton fabric of her shirt. When she groaned, he cupped his hands there and let his thumbs circle slowly. She pushed away and sat up suddenly. He followed her eyes down the twin spots that had soaked through her shirt.
She laughed and let out a sigh. “Nothing like some breast milk to ruin a sexy moment.” She climbed over him and returned wearing a clean shirt. This time when she nestled in his arms, he kept his body still and his hands firmly wrapped around her. He tried to ignore the tingles he got when her fingertips traced lightly over his sides. When they passed over his scars, her calm green eyes joined with his.
“Will you tell me what happened?” she whispered. He hadn’t talked about it to anyone outside the regiment, but Lindsey was staring at him with open and trustworthy eyes. His heartbeat thrummed a little faster, as it did every time he relived the moments.
He nodded and took a breath. “As a sniper, I had a spotter. Someone who covered me while I was focused on the targets. His name was Johnny. A young kid from the South who desperately wanted the college education the military offered. We went through basic training together and became fast friends. It was hard not to—everyone loved him. He was quick to joke and always made light of things when we were caked in layers of dust and sand.”
“He sounds like a really great person,” Lindsey said softly. Her hands had stopped running up and down his skin and she focused her eyes intently on his.
He pulled in a shaky breath, and then continued. “We were on a standard mission. I remember he was looking forward to heading back to base for dinner. They were making chili that night and Johnny loved it. He always said his mother wasn’t much of a cook. Must not have been because the food was God-awful. We got ambushed from behind and he was shot. Before I could get to him, a grenade went off. I remember the explosion, then the ringing in my ears. Everything was in slow motion, then the world went black. I woke up in the hospital and Johnny didn’t wake up at all.” Her hands rubbed his arms.
“Oh, Damien. I’m so sorry.” She wrapped him in a hug and pressed her lips to his chest.
“I picked the spot that day. He thought we should’ve gone farther—and if we had…”
“Damien, you can’t blame yourself. It will eat you up inside. He wouldn’t want you to carry such a heavy burden.”
“No, he wouldn’t,” Damien admitted. His friend had been as light-hearted and kind as it gets. He hadn’t deserved to die that day. He pulled his eyes shut for a moment, and tried to shake the memories away.
They talked for a while longer, and he took comfort in the sound of her voice. It didn’t take long for her eyelids to grow heavy and her breathing to deepen. He pushed away a lock of hair that had fallen in front of her face and enjoyed the scent of the shampoo she always used that clung to it. With the pitter-patter of rain against the roof, he took a moment to really look at her. A thick fringe of lashes lay flush against her creamy skin. A rosy blush swept over her high cheekbones, and led down to full lips. He kissed her forehead and hugged her tightly.
He was thrilled she wanted more from their relationship and filled with hope over what they could make of it. Damien tried to steady the part of him that instinctively whispered to run far and fast. Deep down he was scared as hell that things wouldn’t work out, and he’d lose her twice. This time around, he’d do everything in his power to be the man she saw him as—the man she deserved. He thought back to the card Jay had handed him at the bar. Maybe it was time to explore his options and see what types of positions were available on the Cape. Could he really turn the tides and make Chatham his home again? He looked down at Lindsey. It was definitely worth a try.
Chapter Ten
When Maris went down for a nap, Lindsey took her easel onto the deck and faced the water. She added cobalt-blue paint to her pallet and set the tube beside her. Ever since Damien mentioned her paintings, she had an itch to pull out her oils and transform a blank canvas into its own little world. Lindsey recalled the peace she felt as a teenager when she sat at her easel. All her problems seemed to melt away when she was face-to-face with a creamy white canvas and the smell of turpentine in the air. At the time, those problems had been a sliver of those she dealt with in adulthood—grades and test scores, boys and prom dates. Her lips curved. If only things could be so easy now.
She swept her brush through the thick oil paint and watched as a sea gull dove into the water after its prey. Lindsey could paint the rolling sea of Chatham from memory, along with the rocky jetties that projected from the land into the water, and the stately white-washed lighthouses that called ships home.
Damien’s suggestion of selling her work had nagged at her since he’d mentioned it at the hospital. She finally unearthed some old paintings she’d done of the shoreline and stacked them in her bedroom. After walking by them for weeks, she was finally compelled to try her hand at it again. Damien inspired her, and lit a fire deep within her to explore all that life had to offer. Painting had once been her greatest dream. She arched the brush over the canvas, and let the call of the gulls and the sound of the waves relax her.
Lindsey was embarrassed at how quickly she’d put art aside when Matthew scoffed at her longing to be a painter. She had bended to him too easily, desperately trying to make the marriage work. Thankfully, it hadn’t worked because now she understood his need to control, to possess. They had never been equals. They were never a team. Like she and Damien were, she thought. They shared everything. The household chores, time with Maris, their hopes and dreams—but they still hadn’t had sex. They curled up in the same bed together every night and his kisses and touches drove her mad—but he didn’t push for more. Was he still giving her space to recover, or was something else holding him back? If there wasn’t such fire in his eyes, such passion when their lips met, she would wonder if he found her desirable at all.
She mixed some yellow paint onto her brush, and started scrubbing light into a wave breaking over the beach. She wanted so much to believe their relationship could work for the long haul, but insecurities whispered in her ear. Would he truly stay when his father’s house sold, or would the lure to travel off the Cape be too strong to resist? Lindsey picked up her palette knife, pulled it through burnt sienna, and scraped a jetty into the water. She was so in tune with her work and with the sounds of nature around her, she didn’t hear the screen door open.
She jumped and nearly dropped her tools when Damien spoke behind her.
“That’s something else, Lindsey.” He leaned down and kissed the top of her head. �
��I didn’t mean to startle you.”
She turned and smiled when she saw Maris in his arms and the dog prancing at his feet. She’d never tire of the twirl of happiness that circled through her at the sight of them together.
“Would you mind if Maris and I took your car? We have an errand to run.”
She raised her brow. “It’s a little early for driving lessons.” Lindsey knew Damien was perfectly capable of strapping Maris in her car seat and keeping her safe. He’d had as much of a hand in raising her as she did. “If you give me half an hour, I could go, too.”
“No, keep at it.” He motioned toward her painting. “We won’t be long and when I get back you and I are going on a date.” Damien cooed softly to the baby when she started to fuss. Had a man ever been more beautiful?
Lindsey laughed. “Yeah, right. Who’ll watch Maris?”
“Your parents. They seemed over the moon when I asked them yesterday.” He shifted Maris to his other side, looking completely confident and competent with the little baby in his arms. Damien had become very domestic in a short period of time. He grabbed her chin with his free hand and planted a kiss on her lips. “We have something to celebrate.” His eyes danced with mischief.
“We do? What do you have up your sleeve?” Lindsey narrowed her eyes at him, got up from her seat, and kissed Maris on her forehead.
“You’ll see.” He grinned. “We should be back by five and your parents will be here around six.” Damien pecked her cheek and breezed back through the sliding glass door.
What was he up to? She finished her painting and went straight for the shower. A thought shook her as she soaped up. The house must have sold. She caught her bottom lip between her teeth. What would happen now? A sick churning looped in her stomach. If the house was gone, he was no longer tied to Chatham. She tried to push it aside and just get ready for their date. Lindsey rolled her shoulders and tried to loosen the tension that rested between them. She ran her fingers over her wet hair, and wrung out the excess water. They’d seen each other every day for weeks. Why was she so nervous?
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