Love Burns

by Babette James

  Exhaustion dragged at the old man’s face, but his eyes sparkled as he raised his glass. “Here’s to you, Dave Knight, man of the night. They liked you. Damned good playing. Same time, next Friday?”

  As they clinked glasses, Dave found himself saying yes.

  “How’d you do on tips?”

  Under their urging, he counted the bills. Seventy-three dollars.

  “Good start. Don’t spend it all in one place.” Jake’s laugh cracked into a wheezing cough. He sipped at his drink and waved off Livie’s concern.

  They finished their drinks and made short work of tidying. Jean and the others headed home.

  “Okay, you two, off to your beds.” Jake shooed Livie out the door. “I can find my own front door from here.”

  Livie shook her head and kissed Jake’s cheek. “I like walking you home.”

  “And I’ve been sitting all night,” Dave said. “I need to stretch my legs.”

  “Bullshit, but I’ll accept the company.” Jake slapped him on the shoulder.

  After they’d waved Jake inside and the lock clicked, Dave turned to begin the walk back. He halted, face to face with Livie, unable to do anything but stare. His breath caught and heart raced.

  Her dark eyes widened, and her expression flicked from wondering, to embarrassed, to desiring.

  Wait—He couldn’t kiss her on Jake’s doorstep. He cleared his throat. Taking the risk, he offered his hand.

  Livie twined her fingers into his, and he could breathe again. “Nice night tonight.”

  “Yes. Rain by morning though.”

  Overwhelmed by what he wanted to tell her, he said nothing as they strolled along the driveway through the cool, quiet night. Palm fronds rustled in the breeze and insects, maybe frogs, sang in the grass and trees. Gravel crunching under their feet raised memories of their walks at Mohave. He’d been ready to crash when they’d walked Jake home, now he was wide-awake and aching for Livie. He wanted to hold her, sink into her kisses, sink into her body, and reclaim the peace he’d found with her at Mohave.

  Be cool. She’s holding your hand. That’s a decent first step.

  “Uncle Jake really enjoyed your playing tonight.” She rubbed her thumb against his hand. “I did too.”

  “Thanks. Performing again felt good. I’m glad I took Jake up on his offer.”

  Dave’s resolve to behave lasted until their door. Slow burning desire flashed into urgent need. He’d missed her so much, missed the feel of her under his hands. He dragged her close, catching his hand on her waist, and crushed his mouth down on hers. His cane clattered against the door.

  Her hand tightened on his, and she leaned into him with a desperate sigh. Sinking his fingers into her silky hair, he deepened the kiss, savoring her warm lips, sweet with the Kahlua from her drink, and her sweet eager moans, until they were breathless. So what if this desire was foolish, or selfish, or if their lives were too uncertain.

  She cupped his face in her hands. “Dave, oh, Dave—”

  At the hint of a cry in her voice, he broke the kiss. He needed his brain back in charge. They needed to talk.

  “Aw, Livie.” He caressed her waist, greedily unable to let go. He was always needing to apologize. “Sorry.”

  “No, no. You make me feel on fire and crazy.” She laughed. “Crazy in a good way. A really, really good way.”

  “You make me feel alive.” Pure truth. Without Livie, he was just going through the motions.

  “I wasn’t going to get involved with you again. I shouldn’t.” She turned her face away.

  Again? Please, yes, let this be his second chance. Please, let him get this right. He firmed his embrace, bringing them cheek-to-cheek, desperate to keep her close. “I know.”

  “We’re both rebounding from major life changes. That clouds things.”

  “True.” One thing was sharply clear, being here with Livie was right. Never mind his body had beat his brain to that conclusion.

  “I married for all the right reasons before and everything went wrong. I trusted.” She tightened her arms around him with a shudder that hurt his heart. “I’m so afraid of being hurt again.” Her voice cracked.

  And he’d only compounded her fear. “I’m sorry about Mohave. I don’t know how to make up for that.”

  “You hurt me on purpose.”

  “Yeah. I was an ass. I told myself cutting you off was for the best for you, that I was a bad bet for you. I told myself you needed someone solid, with his head on straight. I’m still a bad bet. You and Jake had every right to kick my ass out.”

  “I didn’t tell him what happened. You needed to stay.”

  “He knew.”

  She jolted. “How?”

  Dave held her tight and stroked her head. “You have a lousy poker face, sweetheart. He knew we had something and that I hurt you, but he let me stay anyway.”

  “He likes you.” Livie tipped her face to his, yielding in his embrace, her softness to his hardness.

  Dave settled his hands on her hips. “But do you like me?”

  ****

  Olivia laughed lightly and draped her arms loosely about his waist. “I think we’ve already proved that.”

  Something far more immense than like filled his deep eyes. She’d missed him so much, his humor and his kindness, his kisses and his warm, strong body. Could this risky leap of faith to let him back into her heart and soul be perhaps the best decision she’d ever made?

  What if he pushes you away again?

  Stop. Stop. Stop. Be bold, be brave. She had to give them this chance.

  “But I can show you again.” Terrified and joyous, she brought her lips to his.

  Between their urgent kisses and hungry caresses, she managed to unlock the door and Dave retrieved his cane. They stumbled inside the shadowy stairwell, the light switch forgotten. He crowded her against the wall, dropping the cane in the corner, his thigh shoving between her legs as she pulled him close. Oh, kissing Dave and being in his arms again felt so right.

  For this lovely moment, doubts and troubles vanished under his fierce, sweet kiss, leaving only hope. She wanted to cry and to laugh. Joy won. She laughed and arched against him. His mouth was warm, his body was hard, and his hands strong and reverent as he rasped his thumbs over her breasts, tracing her taut nipples, lighting her on fire.

  Jolted by pleasure, she rose into his touch. “More, again, that felt wonderful.”

  She skimmed her hands under his shirt, stroking his bare skin, sliding down to slip between his waistband and hips. He caught up her skirt, sliding his hands over her bare thighs to her hips. Kiss upon kiss followed, hard and rushed, deep and sweet, tenderly devouring, as if they were both trying to make up for all the lost time apart.

  Abruptly, Dave wrenched his mouth from hers, breath ragged, and he planted his hands against the wall. “We need to slow down.” He laughed hoarsely and touched his forehead to hers. “Damn, I can’t believe I said that.”

  Too breathless to answer after their wild kiss, she cupped his cheeks between her palms and brushed a kiss to his lips.

  “Oh, yeah. You make me lose all sense when I’m around you, honey.” Harsh, winded chuckles shaking him, he pushed free and slumped against the opposite wall. He hooked his thumbs into his pockets. His eyes were deep and serious under the faint light filtering from the hallway above. “I don’t want to mess this up.”

  “I believe you.”

  “I’m no good at the serious relationship thing…but I want to try. I want to make this right for you. I want to be the right guy for you. Will you give me this chance?”

  Buoyed by hope, she nodded and took the answering step forward. Maybe she was setting herself up for pain again, but she loved him. She would be true to herself.

  “Yes.” Her heart swelling with the rightness of her decision, she slipped her hands over his. She smiled, needing to lighten this moment. “You know what I want?”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Dave struggled to think against th
e urge to drag Livie back into his arms. He lifted her hands to his lips and pressed a light kiss. Me? Us? “What?”

  Mirth sparkled in her eyes. “Ice cream. Come on.”

  A laugh cracked from him, the pressure dropped away, he had control over his desire, and he could breathe again. He scooped up his cane. “Yeah, sounds good.”

  Livie released one hand and took the first stair step, gently tugging. He followed, keeping her hand clasped in his until he had to release her to unlock the door.

  Livie flicked the light switch. “Have a seat.” She waved toward the sofa, but he followed her and sat at the table.

  “I’ll cut up a mango to go over this ice cream.” She set the pint of vanilla on the counter.

  “Never had mango.” Time to stop worrying and just enjoy their conversation, her graceful movements, the sweet curves of her rear, shapely calves beneath her skirt, the sway of hair over her back.

  “Really? I love it.” She gathered a cutting board, knife, bowl, and two mangoes from the fruit bowl. After weighing one in each hand, her expression thoughtful, she returned the right-hand one to the bowl. “Almost, but not quite.”

  He dragged his mind from the gentle, kissable curves of her mouth. “How do you tell?

  “Like choosing a peach. When a gentle squeeze feels just right?” Livie sliced the mango into three portions, lightly crosscut the two seedless pieces, and neatly filleted the bright orange cubes away from the skin. Next, she trimmed the skin from the remaining center part and the strips of fruit away from the large seed and swiftly cubed those strips. She tossed the cubes into a bowl with a sprinkle of sugar and stirred.

  “Want me to scoop the ice cream for you?”

  “Sure. We can use the blue glass bowls from the china cabinet. Grab them for me, and I’ll dig out the scoop.”

  Her antique cherry cabinet had the warm glow and mellow finish of a long-used and gently cared-for piece. He eyed the prettily displayed glass, china, and silver. As a kid, the no-touch zone of the china cabinet had been drilled into him. Not even Dad went inside, and heaven help you if even one glass got rattled from clumsiness or horseplay.

  “Uh, I’m fine with regular bowls. No need to fancy it up.”

  She smiled. “I use those dishes all the time. No sense having beautiful things if you don’t use them. Wait until you see how good the vanilla ice cream and mango look against the blue glass.”

  Dave opened the glass doors and hesitated. Dumb how tightly childhood memories clung. He extracted the two bowls and set them on the table with a relieved chuckle. Done and no lightning from heaven.

  “What’s funny?” She turned, offering out the scoop.

  “Nothing. Just glad to be here.” He took the scoop. The truth, even if getting here had taken near losing his mind.

  “I’m glad you’re here, too.”

  After he filled each bowl with several curls of ice cream, Livie added generous spoonfuls of mango and juice. She studied her arrangement and smiled happily. “All set. Let’s get comfortable on the sofa and dig in.”

  Livie was right, the fruit and ice cream looked real nice in the dishes. Sure, he preferred a good-tasting meal, but for much of his life, eating was simply a vital refueling of his body. Seeing the visual appeal of the simple dessert through Livie’s perspective was…interesting.

  The neatly arranged phone, stone coaster, remotes, and three books on an end table showed Livie’s preferred spot on the couch. He sat at the opposite end. Some physical space might be sensible.

  However, she curled beside him, her feet tucked beneath her, and paused expectantly.

  He spooned up some mango. A rich sweet-tart burst of fruit and the creamy slide of vanilla filled his first bite. “Hey, this is good.”

  Livie smiled, looking up from under her lashes, and the slow slip of the spoon from between her lips had him shift in his seat.

  She blushed and shyly licked her lips. “To make a fancier dessert, you can add Grand Marnier and puree the mango to make a sauce and decorate with mint leaves. I thought you’d enjoy it plain to taste the mango.”

  “I do.” He leaned in and took a kiss. She was sweet and warm and tasted of mango, vanilla, and home, but he kept his hunger for her tightly controlled, his hands off, and the kiss easy.

  They pulled apart.

  “The ice cream’s melting.” A rich blush flooded her cheeks. Her eyes softened.

  “Right.” He was damn warm himself. Maybe he’d better finish his ice cream and call it a night.

  Awkward silence ruled as they finished eating. He caught her stifling a yawn. The indecision dogging him earlier vanished. He set their empty dishes aside on the coffee table.

  “I should wash them.”

  “Later.” He tugged her to lie with him on the sofa, wrapping her in his arms. She settled with a pleased sigh and a deeper yawn, her head against his shoulder.

  She kissed his jaw. “So what are we doing here?”

  “Figuring things out.”

  “I’ve been trying to go day by day on that.”

  He chuckled. “I’ve been trying to make plans.”

  “I tried so hard not to miss you.”

  “I’m sorry I hurt you. I’m sorry I don’t have my act together.”

  She stroked his hand. “Dave, for right now, stop worrying. Did anyone ever tell you, you think too much sometimes?”

  A rough laugh broke from him. “No, never been accused of that.”

  “You’ll work this out. We’ll work this out.”

  After that, they simply held each other. As she drifted to sleep, he relaxed under the growing peace and hope and ignored responsibility’s nudge to wake her and send her to her bed.

  He woke with Livie’s arms wrapped around him, cocooned together under the sofa throw blanket. He’d slept well, no nightmares in her arms.

  The morning sun painted her with mellow light, her lashes made peaceful crescents, her lips softly parted, her hair mussed. The desire to stroke his fingers through the silky tangles tempted him, but he resisted. Yes, he craved her, but he found contentment in this quiet moment to simply cherish watching her sleep.

  This first morning waking with her would not come again, and the importance struck him hard. With Livie, everything was different and significant. The enormity of it all gnawed at his peace.

  This is a challenge, like every other challenge you’ve faced. First wave, first cliff, first fire, first jump from a plane. You faced each and succeeded.

  But those, he’d only risked himself. He’d failed with Tess, badly. If he failed Livie again…That fear burned in his chest.

  Or she’ll be part of the success. Where are those guts of yours?

  ****

  Olivia woke knowing exactly who was holding her. Joy and hope surged through the shreds of sleep.

  “Good morning.” Dave’s drowsy voice rumbled under her, and he stroked her back.

  “What time is it?”

  He nuzzled a kiss to her hair. “Too early to be up.”

  “Good. How are you?”

  “Better than I’ve been in far too long, but I could use some toothpaste and the bathroom.”

  “I happen to have a spare toothbrush and a bathroom.” She slipped from his arms with a kiss.

  Dave swung his legs over and sat up, rubbing his left thigh and wincing. Before she could ask if he was all right, he glanced up, countering her concern with a rueful smile. “No worries. Just the usual morning aches.”

  “I’m sorry. My sleeping on you couldn’t have helped.”

  He accepted her offered hand and rose stiffly. “Sleeping with you in my arms was the best rest I’ve had in forever. I’ll be fine after I move around.”

  She found him the spare toothbrush and left him to the bathroom, while she brushed her own teeth in the kitchen and readied the coffee. Before she pressed On, the shower ran and the bathroom door opened.

  Dave held out his hand, his eyes deep gleaming gold. She let him pull her into the bathroom a
nd into a slow minty kiss.

  Olivia slid her fingers through his hair. Loving Dave…Amid the storm of worries and doubts, she had this strange core of utter certainty. This was more than a simple affair—not that it had ever been simple between them. This was more than physical, more than craving the marvelous things he could make her feel. This was right.

  After dragging off his shirt, he peeled her top away. She stroked his chest and shoulders, savoring sharply defined muscle groups under smooth skin and enticing silky-rough hair.

  He drew her skirt down until it fell away into a puddle around her feet. More sweet, burning kisses delayed her efforts with his zipper, but his jeans and briefs soon joined her skirt.

  Teasing, nibbling kisses through the lace of her bra left her breathless with need. He slid the straps from her shoulders, kissing the marks left from sleeping in the bra, and freed her breasts, lavishing more kisses.

  Oh, so good.

  Dave stroked calloused fingers over her skin, raising delicious shivers, teasing along the lace of her panties. He slipped his hands beneath the elastic, cupping her bottom, and she rose, riding against the rigid heat of his erection. Groaning impatiently, he tugged at her panties until they too slipped away.

  He drew her into the rushing warm water where they shared long, crazy kisses, greedy, seeking hands and mouths, and moans of oh, yes and more. His tongue and nips and suckling drove delighted gasps from her, and her body throbbed with the need to wrap herself around him, take him deep, reclaim her missing half.

  “I need you. Now.” She snatched the condom packet he’d placed on the shower shelf. Thank goodness for a man who was prepared. Twisting around, she crushed the packet into his hand.

  “Your wish is my pleasure.” His growled words as he covered himself stoked her already scorching need. After a hard kiss, he turned her away, cupping and tenderly massaging her breasts, his erection stroking against her bottom.

  She flattened her hands against the tiles, anchoring herself, both loving and exasperated by his lazy play with her breasts and the teasing slide of his shaft. Warm water streamed down her back, tickling between her legs, and she rose on her toes, arching her back, straining for more touch, willing him to hurry and fill her.