He held out his hand and they walked downstairs. “My Lord, Dustin.” She stood in the kitchen. “This is really beautiful. May I look around?”
“Please. Make yourself at home.” Hell, she could get her things and move in. He watched her open some of the custom cabinets. He flipped open a stainless container and scooped coffee into the filter basket.
“That’s fancy. Copper. Are you like a real barista?”
“I can steam milk for froth. I do like a good cup, and you’ve distracted me from my morning routine.” He pressed the brew button and then pulled her into his arms. In his T-shirt, she looked damned near perfect.
“What about your dog?”
“Jasper? He’s probably out back. There’s a dog door but he rarely stays inside. Sleeps on the porch.”
“You did all this?” She trailed her fingers along the granite counter top of the island.
“Come see the rest of the place.” He walked her into the den.
“I always loved this room. We had a lot of really great memories here.” Her forehead creased. She blinked, and he was prepared. Claire wasn’t one to break down and cry much. She might not even remember the times he’d held her as children, but he hadn’t forgotten. This time, just as before, he was ready and moved over to her.
“It’s all right.” He stroked her hair as she cried. Her tears splashed down his chest. “Shush.” He kissed the top of her head. He kept her in his arms, whispering to her that everything would be right again. He kept her firm and safe and let her cry. Her body lurched.
“I’m sorry.” She hiccupped. “I don’t know why that happened.”
“We spent a lot of hours in this room, your parents, my parents; our families were very close.”
More tears appeared in her eyes and fell. He tried to wipe them away and would have done anything to help her feel better. He rocked her against his body, letting her wash away grief. “I’m so sorry. So sorry. Soon you’ll feel better.”
“Thank you.” She slowed her breathing. “May I use your bathroom?”
He led her down a hallway and opened the door. “I’ll be in the kitchen. Can I get you anything?”
“You’ve done more than you know. Really.”
He closed the door for her and didn’t know what to do. Only time would heal her sadness. If he could speed up that process he would, but it was impossible. He took out two mugs and poured the coffee. He laid out the sugar container and left the cream on the counter. He took his coffee black. He walked to the porch and blew into his cup. The sun was bright on the yard and he whistled. Jasper came running. He threw a Frisbee and the dog ran off to retrieve it. Dustin reached for his food bowl and caught sight of Claire coming into the kitchen.
“Hey, I’m here with your friend. There’s coffee poured. Cream and sugar if you still drink coffee like before.” He opened the dog food container and dipped the bowl inside.
“Yes. Thanks.” She came to stand on the porch and watched Jasper jump. “He’s a wonderful companion, I bet.”
“I’ve no complaints.” He smiled at her. “Want a try?”
The dog returned, ears perked up. She tossed the Frisbee and Jasper didn’t hesitate, running after it and bringing it back in short order.
“Sit,” Dustin commanded. He threw the Frisbee for another round. “Are you hungry?”
“Actually, I need to check my email. I don’t know what time Fran’s coming in. She said her assistant would send a message with her itinerary.”
He looked down. He didn’t want Claire to see the thoughts that might saturate his expression. What type of her person sent messages to her sister through an assistant? He inhaled.
“You can use my computer. Same offer as the other day. Then if you’ve got time, we can eat.”
“Deal. Where’s your computer?”
“I’ll get you set up over in my office.” He pulled her along with him toward the front of the house. His office was off the front door and overlooked the driveway. He pulled out the desk chair for her. She sat and the T-shirt eased up her legs. “Better watch yourself or you might get ravaged on top of this desk.” He logged onto the computer and stepped away from the desk.
“I think we share many of the same fantasies.”
“You’re a vision. I can’t help myself.”
The sight of her seated at his desk reminded him of her mother. How many times had he been in her house and seen Mrs. Robertson seated at a desk, doing some paperwork for the family business? The idea passed through his mind of Claire working at home. A writer. Did she ever consider that route? He rubbed his knuckle against her cheek.
“Call out if you need anything.”
“Just checking email. Oh, maybe a printer.”
“It’s connected. Over there. Just click print and you’ll get what you want.”
She arched her brow. “I wish.” She laughed.
“Don’t tempt me. For all you know your sister may be sitting at the airport, fuming.”
Her face paled. “My God, you’re right. I don’t remember if my phone is on vibrate or if it’s even charged.”
“I was joking. I’m certain she’d catch a cab if she couldn’t reach you. Not the worst thing to do. Especially for a New Yorker. It’s like breathing for them. I’d better leave you to it.”
He left her tapping keys. She was still very much under her sister’s thumb. It’d serve Fran right to sit and wait. He couldn’t imagine what Fran possessed that enabled her to throw Claire, except an overinflated ego. After Claire’s last attempt to stand up for her sister, he’d promised himself he’d not say another word against Fran. Whatever he felt or believed wasn’t worth the risk of upsetting Claire.
He went back upstairs to clean up. Inside the bedroom he smiled. The bed, for once, looked like it had been broken in, and his smile only deepened when he noticed two notches dug into the wall where the headboard had hit.
“About time.” He touched the wall, determining that these two spots would remain there as a memorial of their first night together. Dustin picked up the room, throwing his clothes into a laundry bin and retrieving a lacy thong and dress. She traveled light. Boy, he’d love to take her on a trip. Maybe tour Europe. Disappear with Claire. Well, hell, if he knew her plans maybe he could begin to work out some sort of set of objectives for the future.
At some point, she’d go back to Seattle. His throat clogged and threatened to make him cough. He didn’t know much about grief. What he felt when his parents divorced would barely compare to what Claire was going through. Could she pack it up and return to her life on the West Coast without a thought? He had a home but it was hours away from Seattle. Yes, the first order of the day was to see where her thoughts were running.
“Dustin?”
“I’m up here.” He went to the stairs. She held some papers in her hands. From her expression he understood she wasn’t staying for breakfast. He couldn’t bring himself ask how soon the wicked witch of the East was due. She came up the stairs and he followed her inside the bedroom.
“Fran’s coming in about an hour. I’d better go get cleaned up. Actually, she wrote that her assistant reserved her a rental car at the airport. I should have figured Fran would want her own transportation.”
“Well, I know you’ll be busy. I want to see you later. It doesn’t matter how long or when. Even if it’s just coffee or a kiss goodnight. Call me and I’ll find you. ”
“I couldn’t ask for a better—” She faltered then recovered. “A better lover.”
“I want to be more. Much more.” He pulled her into his arms.
Chapter Eleven
She slipped into her thong and stood still while he zipped her dress. He planted a kiss on her shoulder and his arms cinched around her waist. She melted against him placing her hands over his, lacing their fingers together. They walked hand in hand to the front door.
Claire didn’t want to close her eyes while she stood inside the doorway, kissing Dustin. It was overpowering, this raw attr
action that ran between them, becoming stronger to point of making her breathless. Or was it the way he took possession of her mouth? She’d given him her body and it was as if her mind and spirit wanted to follow.
Except now she was more exposed, more vulnerable, and she was afraid that this would end. Fran was on her way back and what if Dustin couldn’t help but being attracted to her? She needed to see for herself that Fran had no hold on him. Was that even possible? They looked exactly the same, after all. She was torn between wanting to trust Dustin and wanting to protect her heart.
She broke away. Everything was moving so fast. Where had the euphoria gone that held her suspended just seconds ago?
“Claire, if you need anything, you’ve got my number or just come over. Nothing is too small.”
A well of emotion churned inside her. She had to gather her thoughts and assemble at least enough self-control to end this without tears. Step one, let go of him. She released her death grip on his shirt.
“You smell so good.” His words heated her neck.
“I’ll call you as soon as I know what’s going on. Soon, I promise.” She swung around in his arms and smiled, a full toothy grin, realizing there was nothing for her to do but shower and change. All she could do was wait and see what transpired between Dustin and her…and, of course, Fran.
Dustin held her gaze, shook his head, and then pressed a kiss to her lips. He was going to say something but held back. She could see that. He opened the front door and she followed him out on the porch. They walked between the yards, his arm around her.
Up on her porch the rocking chairs creaked, empty and out of synch. The breeze had picked up and the clouds were moving across the sky, no longer white billows but gray cotton candy.
“Looks like we’ll finally get some rain.”
“How long has it been?” She stood barefoot, a good head shorter than him. Only when she mounted a step and turned were they eye-to-eye.
He pulled her into his arms, encircling and pulling her to him. Dustin’s eyes were darker in the pre-storm bluster except when a bolt of lightning flashed. Her chest heaved and thunder boomed, but that’s not what made her quiver. She wanted to pour out the words yet she kept biting them back. Claire pressed her forehead to his, willing that he might understand all that she felt—minus the crazy bleeps of insanity that kept cropping up.
Inside, she tried out the words. She loved him. But they were stuck, super glued to her tongue.
“You better make a run for it.” She smiled.
He patted her rear-end. “Hmm.” He glanced up at the sky and kissed her. He moved his hands over her bottom. He lifted her, scooting her closer to him, leaving no doubt that he was ready for another session of lovemaking. “Imagine what I’d do to you if there wasn’t a storm brewing.”
She gasped. Partially from the impression of his erection pushing into her abdomen and partially because she wondered if he’d picked up on her inner turmoil. “I’ll take a rain check.”
“For sure. Believe it.” He released her and walked down the last two steps.
She blew him a kiss, and when he pretended to catch it, his action reverberated louder within her chest than the thunder crashing around them. Jasper barked, and Dustin waved before he was gone from her sight. The sky was in a state of panic, and she was thankful to blame the weather on the commotion present inside her.
Never mind what she’d read or written. This scene of parting lovers was far from idealistic, not one filled with enchanting uplifting prose, not at least from her point of view. Instead of settled, she was a kite flying way too high, free at last but in the middle of a building storm.
The plant baskets swung on the porch, bumping and swaying. Claire reached up and removed each one, setting them on the cement floor, close enough to the railing to gather rainwater without damage. She wiped her feet on the welcome mat, preparing to cross the threshold, and stopped to admire the power and intense beauty of Mother Nature.
Inside, her phone buzzed. She picked it up and read a message from Fran’s assistant. Her sister’s plane was on time and had just landed. Her body compressed with the force of a bungee jump leap and rebound. She breathed out, relieved in a way that this moment was finally here. She replaced the phone on the entryway table and examined her revelation. This wasn’t the proverbial light coming on. This was more akin to a solar flare. Several shades of her confusion and emotional upheaval were very much related to Fran’s arrival if not their whole unbalanced relationship. No matter what she might tell herself, there’d be no more sweeping issues under the rug. Their issues were now the size of a T-Rex—forget the elephant in the room.
She gazed into the entryway mirror. “Hello, stranger. Welcome home.”
She was ready. Sort of. She still wore her dress from last night. She dashed up the stairs, tearing off her clothes, and jumped into the shower. She changed into jeans, a shirt, and sneakers. In the downstairs hall, she pulled out one of her mother’s rain slickers and opened the front door. Rain fell in fat drops, splattering the driveway, and soon would begin to fall in earnest. She raced down the steps and across the yard. She flung open the gate and ran past Dustin’s Jeep. She pressed the doorbell and half-turned to watch the dance of lighting, far off in the west.
He opened the door and before he could say a word, she began. “I write erotica. You asked me about my plans. I’m quitting my job. It’s a real mess but I’m glad. I want to return to Seattle, pack everything up and come back here to live. I’m ready to try my hand at writing fiction for real. But I’m not going to hide anymore. This is who I am. Claire Robertson and I write hot, steamy sex scenes. I’m one of those writers, and if you’d care to read one of my stories, I’ll share.”
She’d done it. She waited for less than a second as he blinked and her heart pounded. When he smiled, she grinned back—so hard she thought her face might break in two.
“Nice to meet you. I’m Dustin Murray, and I don’t know what the hell I’m doing. Would you like to come in and stay?” He stepped back and opened the door wide. She followed him into the house.
“Seriously, one of my stories is already released. Sort of by mistake. That’s the problem I had to deal with yesterday. I’m more than certain Fran will have some sort of meltdown about it when she finds out. But I don’t care. She can either like it or lump it, and I’m going to set her straight as soon as I see her. She has her life and I have mine.”
At that moment, finally, she owned herself and wanted to share the feeling with him.
“How long have you known that you weren’t going back to Seattle to stay?”
“I’ve been unhappy for a while. Before coming home, I started sending out feelers for other jobs, other positions, and I thought about making the leap to writing fiction full time, but nothing was solid until a couple of moments ago. It was as if this missing connection was restored. All the pieces just seemed to come together.”
“I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t overjoyed that you were coming back. I want us to be together.”
“There’s no reason to keep running. Everything I want is right here.” She kept her eyes level with his. She inhaled. In the midst of a storm, she wanted to find her footing, needed to start fresh. She took a step closer.
Jasper began to bark.
“I think we’ve got company.” He pushed back the curtains peering outside. The rain had lessened into a drizzle. He faced her, his lips pressed into a thin line. “Your sister just arrived.”
A cold, clammy feeling swept over her and settled in the pit of her stomach. “I’d better go.”
“Hey, not so fast.” He closed the gap between their bodies and his mouth slammed down onto her lips. His hands held her by the shoulders and pulled her against him. She twisted his shirt into knots inside her hands. She gave into him and pushed aside all thoughts except his tongue in her mouth. He ended their kiss with a bear hug.
“Mmm.” Her voice was a whisper. “Wish we could bottle that for emergencies.�
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“Do you want me walk you back home?” His look of concern made her think.
She chewed the inside of her cheek. “No, I’d better meet Fran alone. I don’t know what her mood might be considering…”
He gently held her apart. “I’m right here if you need a shoulder or a sounding board. And I’m not opposed to kidnapping you if I think you need a break.” He lifted her into a fireman’s carry to prove his point.
She laughed, the blood rushing to her head, and pounded his exceptionally hard rear end.
He set her down. She placed a wet, sloppy kiss on his lips and then opened the door. She longed to tell him what she felt, but the words remained locked away.
“I’ll call you later.” She walked through the door. Dustin went out with her. From his porch they could see a large white SUV parked in the driveway of her home. She inhaled a shaky breath and waved goodbye from the path.
She didn’t know if it was leaving him or facing Fran that made her tremble. Opening the gate between the houses, she heard her sister’s voice growing louder with each step she took toward her front door. She held her umbrella up and the porch came into view. Her sister sat on a rocking chair, her face pinched and flushed as she held gazed at her cell phone.
Her sister’s eyebrows shot up. “Where the hell have you been? I’m wet and tired.”
“What are you doing sitting on the porch?”
“Excuse me. You left the door locked.”
“I did? Sorry.” She scrambled up the steps. She didn’t remember locking the door. “It’s not locked; it just gets stuck. You have to jiggle the handle. See?”
Her sister rolled her eyes. “It wouldn’t open. I wished you’d been here to welcome me. Is that too much to ask?” Fran stormed past her into the house.
Claire followed her into the living room and was about to set the limits right then and there, except Fran started to dab at her eyes. “I need a tissue.”
She went to Fran and hugged her. This time Claire didn’t hold back her own sorrow. Both of them held each other and cried for a long time.
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