Their Second-Time Valentine

by Helen Lacey

  “Mind if I join you?”

  “Of course not,” she said, and grabbed another mug. “Would you like a cookie? Or chocolate?”

  “I don’t really like chocolate.”

  Her eyes widened with mock astonishment. “Oh, heavens, now you tell me.”

  He chuckled. “Didn’t want to scare you off. What about you?” he asked as he came into the room and sat at the table. “Anything you dislike?”

  “Spiders,” she replied quickly. “And I’m not too fond of heights. Cherry cola. Gladioli. And the color orange.”

  “And what do you love?” he asked, his elbows on the table, his chin resting on the back of one hand.

  “Erin,” she replied, feeling awareness quickly swirl between them. “Rain on the rooftop. Books. Quiet nights on the sofa. Dark chocolate. Lavender roses.”

  “That’s quite a diverse list.”

  She shrugged and smiled. “I’m a complicated woman. What about you?”

  “Dislikes?” he mused. “Musical theater. Berets. Fluffy white cats.”

  Layla laughed, the tension easing from her body. “And what do you love?” she asked as she walked to the table with their tea and sat down.

  “Rain on the rooftop. Books. Quiet nights on the sofa.”

  “Smooth,” she said, and looked at him over the rim of her mug. “Do you really like books?”

  He nodded. “Yeah. Although over the years it’s been something of a love-hate relationship.”

  “Can I ask you something about the dyslexia?”

  “It’s not off-limits to you.”

  But it was to others? Was that what he was saying? “Do you worry about how people might perceive you because of it?” she asked gently.

  “Sometimes. Not so much these days,” he replied. “But if you’re actually asking if I’ve been judged in the past because of it, then yes, many times. At school, in college, at work. People can be insensitive and sometimes cruel. But my family has always been really supportive, so I was lucky.”

  Her heart ached thinking about it. “And in relationships?”

  “Honestly, I’ve never told anyone I’ve dated.”

  Her brows rose questioningly. “Not even your last serious girlfriend?”

  “Nope.”

  “Why not?”

  “Trust,” he said simply. “It’s hard to explain, but when you’ve been judged for something you can’t control, it’s easier to not let people see that side of yourself. So, I don’t talk about it. I don’t let it define me.”

  She met his gaze and held it. “Thank you for trusting me enough to tell me.”

  “That’s a big thing, isn’t it?” he said, almost as though he were talking to himself. “Trust, I mean. I wonder, do we choose who we trust, or is it simply instinct?”

  “Are you asking me that as a question?”

  He exhaled heavily. “You know, I’m not sure. I don’t ever make rash decisions.”

  “And this feels rash...is that what you’re saying?”

  “No,” he replied. “That’s the kicker. Nothing about you, about us, feels rash.”

  Logically, she agreed. But despite how good it was between them—despite the laughter and the easy friendship and the mind-blowing sex—they had only known each other a matter of weeks. They couldn’t be certain about anything.

  He was looking at her with such blisteringly hot intensity, and suddenly she couldn’t drag her gaze away. Instinctively, she knew what was coming. She didn’t know how, but it was as though some internal radar switched on and she knew precisely what he was going to say. What she didn’t know was why she couldn’t galvanize her good sense and beg him not to say it. And when it came, it still had the power to rock her to her core.

  “Layla, I’m in love with you.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Right. First time he’d ever said it to anyone. Probably the last time, too, if the expression on her face was anything to go by.

  Kane got to his feet, scraped the chair back and propped his hands on his hips. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

  She didn’t disagree. “I think we—”

  “It’s just the great sex talking,” he said, and shrugged. “Ignore it.”

  But she didn’t. “I’m not ready for that, Kane.”

  Well, that’s better than being told to take a hike...

  Except she suddenly looked as though she felt sorry for him, and that was worse than the notion of a full-blown rejection. “Forget about it.”

  Kane grabbed her hand and dragged her to her feet, bringing her close. He worked out quickly that she was naked beneath the robe, and combined with her tousled hair and reddened lips, she looked sinfully sexy. He kissed her, hoping to distract her enough that she wouldn’t keep thinking about his rash statement. In seconds he figured his strategy worked because they were kissing hot and deep like a couple of mad people. Her hands slipped beneath his T-shirt and her fingers dug into his skin as Kane curved his palms over her hips. Her breasts surged against him and he kissed her neck, her throat, the sensitive skin at her nape.

  “My God,” he muttered raggedly into her hair. “I want you again.”

  She pulled the robe loose and pressed closer. “I want you, too.”

  “I don’t...have...” The words were dragged from his throat as the feel of her hands on his skin worked like a narcotic, drugging him senseless. “Protection.”

  Kane felt her smile against his neck where her lips were making magic. “Let’s improvise, then.”

  Her seductive suggestion sent all the blood in his body surging south and Kane’s knees almost gave out. Improvise? Sure, he could do that. Because a baby would be unthinkable for them both at this point. Still, he thought as he lifted her onto the counter and stood between her thighs, pushing the robe aside, smoothing his hands over her belly and around her hips...maybe one day? The notion rocked him soul deep. Children. Family. And a minute ago he’d told her that he was in love with her.

  What the hell is wrong with me?

  Nothing, a little voice taunted. It was playing out exactly as it should. That’s what people did. They met. They dated. They fell in love. They got married. They had kids.

  Married?

  For the first time in his life, the word slammed through his brain. Marriage had never been on his radar before. Not with Janine. Not with anyone he’d ever dated. But as he touched Layla, as her soft moans echoed around the room, as her hands dug into his shoulders and for the next hour or so, as they made love in ways that were insanely erotic and transcended pleasure, he knew it was exactly what he wanted.

  Somehow, after the super sexy events in the kitchen, they’d managed to make it back to the bedroom and she lay in his arms as they slept. But when he woke up, he was alone. He could smell coffee and blinked at the ray of sunshine beaming through the crack between the curtains. He needed a shower and a shave and pushed back the duvet, spotting his clothes neatly stacked on the edge of the bed as he swung his legs around and planted his feet on the carpet.

  “Good morning.”

  He looked up. Layla stood in the doorway and his heart skipped a crazy beat. She wore a pale green dress and flat shoes and her hair was up in a messy ponytail. But she looked fresh and rested and wholly desirable.

  Kane glanced at the clock on the bedside table, ignoring the picture of a smiling Frank beside it, and saw that it was past nine o’clock. “You let me sleep.”

  She smiled a little. “You seemed to need it.”

  “But not you?” he asked, and ran a hand through his hair.

  “I’m used to getting up early and surviving on five hours’ sleep,” she explained.

  Of course she was. She had a child and a job and did it all on her own. “I’m not usually such a zombie in the morning,” he offered, and met her gaze. “I think you wore me out.”
<
br />   She chuckled and then suddenly regarded him soberly. “Kane, I think we should—”

  “Don’t, Layla,” he said, and waved a hand more irritably than he intended, sensing what was coming. Regret. A postmortem. Her assurance that she liked him, but that was it, and she wasn’t ready for anything else. “We don’t need to rehash anything. And I certainly don’t need to be reminded of my foolishness. I’m sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable.”

  She exhaled softly. “You didn’t,” she said, but they both knew she was lying. “But this is happening so fast—and I don’t do fast.”

  Neither did he. And that was the damned shock of it all. “I should get going,” he said, and went to get up, then changed his mind because he was naked and in a semi-aroused state.

  “I’ve left a towel, razor and toothbrush in the bathroom for you,” she said as though it were the most normal thing in the world. “Ah—I planned on taking Erin to see my grandparents today. Would you like to come with us?”

  He wanted to refuse. He wanted to stick his ego in a deep hole and ignore the humiliation making his skin itch. But the idea of spending time with Layla and Erin won out over his embarrassment. And to be fair, Layla was clearly trying to make things between them as normal as possible.

  “Sure,” he replied. “But I’ll need to swing by my place for some fresh clothes.”

  “No problem,” she said, and lingered in the doorway. “Kane, thank you for last night. It was amazing.”

  “Yeah,” he agreed. “It was.”

  She left him then and he showered and quickly shaved and dressed. When he entered the kitchen twenty minutes later, Layla pressed a coffee cup into his hand and Erin squealed with delight when she saw him.

  “Dada! Dada!”

  There it was again...the other elephant in the room. Layla quickly met his gaze and shrugged a kind of uncertain apology and he made the effort to ignore the weird way his heart pounded. “It’s okay,” he assured her, and sipped his coffee.

  “I don’t know how to get her to stop,” she said.

  “Then don’t,” he said, sharper than he intended. “She’s a kid and kids say things without a filter. We don’t need to make a mountain out of it.”

  But he knew what Layla was thinking...what she was doing. Backtracking. Reminding him of the real status of their relationship. That he wasn’t Erin’s father—as much as he might want to be. He was the guy Layla had invited, probably temporarily, into her life and her bed. They were lovers. Passion like that couldn’t be faked. They had a lot of chemistry and the sex was incredible. The thing was, he wanted more than just great sex.

  And they both knew it.

  * * *

  “It’s so good of Kane to help your granddad cut down that tree,” her grandmother said to Layla later that day. “The neighbors have been on his back for weeks about getting it done, but it’s impossible for Joe to climb that far up the ladder.”

  Yeah... Kane Fortune was great.

  He was perfect.

  Everyone loved him.

  Except me.

  Which she knew was a great big lie.

  But she wasn’t ready to admit anything...not to herself and least of all to Kane.

  I’m in love with you...

  Damn him for saying that. For putting it out there. For making her feel something beyond the incredible physical connection they shared. Sex she could handle. Sex she could compartmentalize into a safe place where her heart wasn’t in jeopardy of being smashed to pieces.

  “He told me he loved me,” she blurted out, and then immediately wished she hadn’t. Her grandmother was a romantic, and since she clearly thought Kane hung the moon, she would be all over the idea of them as a real couple. “But it’s too soon for all that.”

  “Is it?” Maude queried. “You know, I fell in love with Joe the first time we met.”

  Layla knew the story. “You and Grandpa are an exception to the rule.”

  “What rule?”

  The rule where a person should protect themselves from getting hurt at all costs.

  “The friends-first rule,” she said quickly, covering her tracks. “Like I was with Frank.”

  “But every relationship is different,” Maude offered. “What you had with Frank isn’t necessarily what you will have with someone else. And you clearly like Kane. Plus, Erin has become very attached to him.”

  “I know,” she said, and sighed. “That’s why I have to be cautious. I don’t want her getting attached too quickly. What if we break up tomorrow and she’ll be left—”

  “Are you breaking up tomorrow?”

  “Well, no,” she replied, thinking that the thought had crossed her mind several times in the last few hours. Then she felt ridiculous using the words breaking up, because that meant a relationship and she and Kane had only known each other a matter of weeks and it was too soon to consider what they had anything more than...what? A fling? A friendship gone sideways? The best sex of her life? She didn’t want to think that, either. “But there are never assurances.”

  “Children are amazingly resilient,” Maude said gently. “So, is it Erin you’re worried about or yourself?”

  Layla couldn’t answer. And didn’t get a chance because her grandfather came through the back door with Kane in his wake and started saying how grateful he was to have someone around who could fix pretty much anything. She met Kane’s shimmering gaze and her entire body went into its usual lust-athon. But dammit, no man should have shoulders that broad or arms that strong or a smile so dazzling!

  They ate lunch in the kitchen, just ham and cheese sandwiches washed down with copious amounts of her grandmother’s famous homemade über-sweet lemonade, which she could tell Kane didn’t like—but he was too polite to say so. Afterward they had cake and coffee and Layla tried not to think about how seeing Erin clamoring for Kane’s attention made her feel.

  Like I’m drowning...

  She wanted to run. And to stay. To make sense of the thoughts running through her mind. To somehow beg Erin not to get too attached, even though Layla knew she already had.

  They stayed for another hour and were back at her place by three.

  “Well, I’ll call you later,” he said once they were at her front door and he’d carried Erin inside and dropped the diaper bag in the hallway.

  Layla nodded as she took her daughter in her arms. “Sure.”

  He ruffled Erin’s hair gently and then bent his head to kiss Layla, but she turned her face at the same time, so he only got her cheek. “Right.”

  She sighed. “Sorry, I didn’t mean that... I’m just—”

  “I get it, Layla,” he said, sounding more exasperated than she’d heard before. “You want me to go.”

  “No,” she said quickly. “Well, it’s only that I have some studying to do and it’s been a busy weekend and I’m sure Erin is exhausted.”

  “Like I said,” he replied, “you want me to go. I’ll talk to you later.”

  Layla watched him walk down the path and get into his truck and then drive off. She gave Erin a bath, put in a load of laundry and got her laptop ready for the assignment she needed to finish. Once Erin was fed and put to bed, Layla headed for her own room and was struck by an intense surge of regret when she looked at the huge bed. Had she made the biggest mistake of her life by making love with Kane? It felt like it—particularly when his words kept slamming into her brain.

  I’m in love with you...

  It was too much, too soon. She was still grieving, still mourning her husband, still thinking about Frank every second of the day. Only...she hadn’t been thinking about Frank. In fact, she hadn’t thought much about him at all for the last few weeks.

  It had been Kane Fortune consuming her thoughts.

  Kane, with his broad shoulders and incredible smile, who fixed her sink and gave her flowers and was su
ch a sensational lover. Kane, who’d captivated both her and Erin. Making them quickly, and unforgivably, forget Frank.

  Because that, in a nutshell, was it.

  Frank’s memory had faded over the past couple of weeks. The sense of him that she’d held on to like a lifeline since his death had diluted, become more a shadow than a force, bringing with it another, more powerful emotion. Guilt. A dark, relentless, all-consuming guilt that had worked its way into her blood and bones. She was sick with it.

  She ignored the bed and walked into the bathroom—which was just as much of a reminder as the bedroom—and took a quick shower before changing into pajamas and stepping into the kitchen. The house seemed so quiet, the soft tick of the wall clock registering eight o’clock a pitiful reminder of how alone she truly was, and suddenly, she ached for Kane’s arms around her. She ached for his kiss and the feel of his hands across her skin. He was all she wanted. All she needed. He was the tonic for her shattered heart.

  She grabbed her cell and sent him a text message without second-guessing herself.

  I was an idiot this afternoon. Would you like to come over?

  Layla counted every second of the seventeen minutes it took to get a reply.

  See you soon.

  She grabbed her cell, raced down the hall and back into her bedroom, throwing off the very unsexy pajamas and finding a long black chemise and matching wrap and thong at the back of one of her dresser drawers. She brushed her hair, dabbed some fragrance to her pulse points and quickly gargled with mouthwash.

  Kane arrived at ten past nine, wearing his signature jeans and blue checked shirt, and carrying a small overnight bag, and Layla greeted him by the door.

  “Seventeen minutes?” she queried, brows up.

  He stopped at the top step. “What?”