She looked up at him before staring down at her coffee cup. “I guess you could say that.”
“Has it been worth it?” he asked.
“You really have to ask?”
He nodded. He thought he knew the answer but he wanted to hear her answer.
“When I look at Glenn and Calvin, I know I did the right thing. Glenn needed you and your family, Dillon. I’m convinced of that.”
“But what about you, Monique?” he asked. “What do you need?”
She shrugged as if the answer to his question was inconsequential. “I just need for Glenn to be happy. That’s all I need.”
“You sound sure of that.”
“I am.”
“So, there’s been no one special in your life since your husband died?” He remembered her telling him so once when they’d been visiting with Glenn at Sue’s house. He reopened the topic now for other reasons.
“Just Glenn.”
“And that’s enough?”
She looked at him with wide, hungry eyes, and he wanted to wrap her in his arms, but her next words stopped him.
“I haven’t seen you with anyone special, and you’ve said there’s been no one since your wife. Were you lying?”
It was Dillon’s turn to stare at his coffee cup. “No,” he said.
“Then I guess we’re in the same boat.”
“What boat is that?”
“The boys, Dillon,” she said. “You said before that your life was full with Calvin, and now I’d guess it’s even fuller with both boys.”
He looked at her with questioning eyes. “Seems it would have worked that way, doesn’t it?” He decided to end the charade and try honesty. “Lately, I’m not too sure about how full my life is. I’m beginning to think that I need more than the boys.”
She sucked in her breath, then picked up her cup.
“Are you finished?” she asked.
He wasn’t, but he nodded his head and she picked up his cup, too. He knew it was time for him to go home.
Luckily for Monique, Sue and Wendell planned their wedding for the weekend before the Bells’ trip to visit Darnell. She flew up the day before the wedding to spend some time with Sue. Dillon and the boys flew up and joined them the morning of the wedding. She tried not to be disappointed that Glenn had preferred to wait and come with Dillon and Calvin rather than come early with her, but she hadn’t really succeeded.
While she’d been very happy for Sue and Wendell—it was obvious how much they loved each other—she spent a great deal of time at the wedding feeling sorry for herself. It seemed everyone was getting on with their lives but her. She felt as though she was losing Glenn, and now she was losing Sue.
She went through the week after the wedding with a face of happiness, but inside she still felt sorry for herself. And she was getting tired of her own selfpity. She had a good life. Glenn and Calvin were happy and thriving; her job at the school was challenging and interesting; and her relationship with the Bells was good. She needed to pull herself out of this funk she was in and get on with the process of living her life. When she packed Glenn off with Calvin and his grandparents, she told herself she had until they got back to get herself together.
Not wanting to face a night at home alone, she went out for dinner at the Dinner Plate. As luck would have it, the first person she saw after she arrived was Dillon.
“Hi,” he said. “I guess we’re in the same boat. You missing them already?”
She accepted that excuse. “And I bet they haven’t thought about us since they left.”
He laughed. “I don’t think I’ll take that bet.”
She smiled, too, because she couldn’t think of anything to say.
“Hi, Mr. Bell, Mrs. Morgan.”
Dillon and Monique greeted the young waitress, who was also a student at the high school.
“Two?” she asked.
Dillon queried Monique with his eyes. “I’m game if you are.”
“Fine.”
He turned back to the waitress. “Two.”
When the waitress turned, he placed his hand on the small of Monique’s back and followed the teenager to a booth near the salad bar. Monique told herself to ignore the warmth his touch caused to flow through her body.
“I think this is our table,” he said. He must have seen the question in her eyes because he clarified his statement. “You were sitting here that first night Calvin and I joined you. You don’t remember?”
Now she remembered, but she could think only of the tingling warmth that remained even though he was no longer touching her. “Oh, yes, I remember.”
The waitress came back with water and menus, then told Monique and Dillon to help themselves to the salad bar.
“Are you going to order anything else?” Dillon asked as he studied the menu. “I think I’ll try the prime rib tonight.”
“Not me,” she said. “I’m not that hungry.”
He sensed something was wrong with Monique. In fact, he’d sensed it for a while now. Sure, she tried to cover it up, but he knew something was wrong. And he wished he could do something to help her. “The wedding got you down?” he asked, though from her obvious joy with Sue’s happiness he didn’t think her problem was with the wedding.
She shrugged her slight shoulders. “Not really. I’m just feeling kind of restless.”
“Ahh…I think I know that feeling. Elberton is a small town. Maybe you need to expand your horizons a bit.”
“And do what?” she asked.
He had a great idea, but he was hesitant to present it to her. After studying the sadness in her eyes for a few seconds, he decided to go for it. “When’s the last time you’ve been dancing? Heard some good music?”
Monique couldn’t remember the last time, and she told him so.
He pulled out his wallet and plopped a ten-dollar bill on the table. “That should keep the waitress from getting angry with us.” He stood up and extended his hand to her.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
He didn’t want to think about what he was doing. He just wanted to erase the sadness from her eyes. “How about some dancing and good music? Maybe even some tasty food thrown in for good measure?”
“I don’t think—”
“Then don’t think.” He tried to shake off the hurt her reluctance caused. “We’ll just have a little grownup fun. I promise to get you home at a decent hour.”
She stared at his hand, then let her gaze travel back to his face. A slow smile spread across her face as she placed her hand in his. “Do I need to change?” she asked.
He gave a full-length appraisal of her tan slacks and white silk blouse. She was perfect. He grinned at her. “Not a thing,” he said. “Ready?”
Monique refused to think about what she was doing as Dillon wrapped his fingers around hers. She allowed him to escort her from her seat and out of the restaurant to her car. He suggested that she drive home and he’d follow. From there they would take his truck. She agreed. On the drive to her house, she considered changing her mind and not going with him. Then she told herself she was being silly, they were only going dancing.
Dillon tried to ignore the excitement he felt as he followed Monique. You’re only taking her out because she’s sad, he reminded himself. There’s nothing more to it.
When she pulled into her drive, he hopped out of his truck and rushed to help her out of the car. Nothing wrong with that, he told himself. He was just being courteous. He almost believed himself until his hand brushed hers and she looked up into his eyes. Then he knew he was in trouble.
Chapter Thirteen
Monique knew she would like the Carlton Club as soon as she walked through its pink doors. She scanned the casually but well-dressed crowd and quickly concluded that most of the patrons ranged in age from late twenties to late thirties. A handsome waiter clad in gray slacks and a pink golf shirt greeted them and led them to a table in a corner near the dance floor.
“You didn’t tell
me they had a live band,” she said.
“I told you we were going dancing. You should have known that I only go first-class.”
She smiled. Dillon was flirting with her and she liked it. “Do you come here often?”
“Only when I have a pretty lady I’m trying to impress.”
“And just how often is that?” she asked, determined to give as good as she got.
“Hmm, I don’t think I should answer that one.”
“Does that mean it’s been a lot?”
He leaned forward slightly and she had the unnerving urge to kiss him. “That’s not what it means at all,” he whispered.
His words were a caress and she knew he was telling the truth. He hadn’t brought anyone here in a long time. Any flip flirtatious comeback left her mind. Thankfully, the band chose that moment to start up again. Dillon held his hand out to her for the second time tonight. “You ready to give it a whirl?”
She graciously took his hand and slid into his arms. When she did, every bit of the restlessness she’d experienced fled, and she immediately felt as if she’d come home. This was what she’d been missing, what she’d been wanting. The strong masculine smell of his cologne filled her nostrils and she had to rest her body against his to keep from swooning.
Stop behaving like a besotted teenager, she chided herself, but the chastisement did no good. As she rested her head against his broad chest, she had to force herself not to burrow closer to him, to try and lose herself in him.
Somewhere in the recesses of her mind she realized they were moving a lot slower than the rest of the people on the dance floor and a lot slower than the music dictated, but it didn’t matter. She felt dizzy just swaying with him on the floor. And now that she was in his arms, she didn’t want to leave them.
She wondered if Dillon felt as whole as she did. The thump, thump of his heart matched hers and made her think that maybe he did. A sure way to know would be to look up into his eyes, but she rejected that option. She didn’t trust herself to see her need reflected in his eyes. She was strong, but she wasn’t that strong.
Dillon tightened his hold on Monique, though he knew he really should be releasing her so that they could dance like everyone else. But he didn’t seem to be able to make his arms do what his mind dictated. Without fighting very much, he gave up and gave in. He admitted that he’d wanted the freedom to hold her ever since their first visit to Charleston. Monique was in his blood, and no amount of denial was going to make her go away.
The music stopped too soon for him, and he was forced to release her. He tilted her face up to his and was rocked by the need that he saw in her eyes. He licked his lips and fought the urge to kiss her. And how he wanted to kiss her.
She watched him and licked her lips, too. Aw, hell, he thought to himself, and lowered his head to hers, right there in the middle of the dance floor.
The first touch of his lips against hers ignited a long-simmering passion. He crushed her to him and increased the pressure. When she opened her mouth in sweet response, he wanted to shout his pleasure. Though he could have continued kissing her in that exact spot for the rest of the night, a voice in his head told him they should stop. He reluctantly lifted his head and looked down into her face, unsure what he would see reflected there despite her impassioned response. He was gratified to see pleasure in her features and a smile on her lips. He brought their stillentwined hands to his lips and kissed them. Then he led them back to their table.
Somehow they were able to order and eat a small meal, though he couldn’t for the life of him remember what it was or how it had tasted. He’d spent the entire meal watching her eat and imagining how it would feel to have her lips all over his body. And his all over hers.
“You’ve got to stop looking at me like that,” she finally said.
He grunted, unable to stop looking at her. He was a goner and there was no turning back. At least not tonight. He hoped she knew that. “Or what?” he challenged.
She opened her mouth to speak, but quickly closed it.
“Aw, hell.” He threw some bills on the table and extended his hand to her for the third time. “Are you ready?”
As Monique stared at his outstretched hand, she realized his question was more than an inquiry as to whether she was ready to go home. No, Dillon was asking much more. If she thought about it, she would tell him she wasn’t ready. She didn’t think. She lifted her gaze to his and said, “I’m ready.”
She sat close to Dillon on the drive back to Elberton. His arm rested across her shoulders and his fingers rubbed against her neck. His touch kept her from thinking about the mistake she was surely making. Neither spoke, seeming to know that conversation would spoil the mood. They were content to touch and just be.
When Dillon reached town, he asked, “My house?”
“Fine,” she said, understanding that his car parked in her drive all night was bound to cause gossip and speculation. She appreciated his thoughtfulness.
A few minutes later, he pulled his truck into his drive and shut off the engine. Before she could move out of his embrace, he pulled her closer for another soul-stirring kiss. This one was longer and more demanding than the one they’d shared at the club. She knew it was a preview of coming attractions.
He pulled back and looked down into her eyes. She saw the question there and knew that he was giving her one last chance to change her mind. She pressed her hand against his cheek and led him in a kiss that gave him her answer.
A low moan came from deep in his throat as he accepted what she so freely gave. This time when he pulled away, he opened his door with one hand and pulled her toward him with the other so that they both exited the truck from the driver’s side.
He tucked her into the crook of his arm and guided her to his front door. After making quick work of opening the door, he released her hand and let her enter before him. She turned to watch him as he closed the door, then she walked back into his arms.
He crushed her to him. A happiness and a completeness he’d not felt in a long time washed over him. He didn’t want to think what the feeling meant, so he directed all his energy, all his thoughts into her and into the kiss they shared.
This time she ended the kiss, pulling away from him and refusing to meet his eyes. Wondering what she was thinking, he tilted her head up. His heart shattered at the tears he saw in her eyes.
“What is it, sweetheart?” he murmured, kissing each of her eyelids as if the touch of his lips could stop her tears.
“Oh, Dillon” was all she could say. And it was enough. He crushed her to him again. Her arms wound around his neck and she pressed her body full length against him. But it wasn’t enough. Without breaking the kiss, he lifted her in his arms and strode down the hall to his bedroom. He kicked open the door with his foot and quickly made his way to the bed.
He eased her down and covered her with his own body. This was what he’d wanted for the last ten years. To hold her in his arms again. To join his body with hers. To be whole in her arms. He realized then that he hadn’t been whole since the last time they’d been one. The jarring thought made him break the kiss and pull away from her.
The question and insecurity he saw in her eyes brought him back to her. She needed him and he needed her. They had to have this time together. They could figure out later what it all meant.
Monique felt a freedom she’d only felt in Dillon’s arms. There was no doubt in her mind that here was where she belonged. She’d only been partially alive without him. She’d been alive, but she hadn’t lived. Not until now.
Needing to feel his skin beneath her fingers, she worked her hand down his chest and tried to pull his shirt out of the waistband of his slacks. She groaned her frustration when she was unable to accomplish her goal. Tearing her lips from his, she murmured, “Too many clothes.”
His gruff, passion-filled chuckle sent shimmers of pleasure through her veins. “I agree with you on that one, darling.” He nipped at her lips while she tried agai
n, this time successfully, to get his shirt off. Impatiently she pressed her hands flat against his chest before beginning an exploration of his upper body.
She touched him as if he were precious to her, and his heart almost popped out of his chest. Thinking she needed to get a little of what she was giving, he quickly undid her blouse, slipped it off her shoulders and threw it on the floor. He then pressed his lips against one cup of the thin lace bra that covered her breasts. Not satisfied, he made short order of removing the bra and sucking one firm nipple into his mouth.
Monique squirmed against him and he thought he was going to lose it. He had wanted to take it slow, but he now knew that was impossible. She was as eager and as ready as he was. There was no way for them to take this slow.
In a flurry of hands, kisses, zippers and groans of pleasure, they managed to undress each other. While he wanted to immediately sheath himself inside her, he was forced to give honor and homage to her beauty and to the passion that flowed between them. He kissed her again, while his hands became familiar with the changes in her body. It had been a long time, he thought. Much too long.
Monique accepted the pleasure that Dillon gave her and tried with all her might to return the same. She wanted him to know how much he meant to her, not just physically, but in her heart. She wanted him to know that she needed him emotionally as much as she needed him physically. And she wanted him to know that she needed him now.
“Dillon.” His name was a moan on her lips, and she realized she wouldn’t be able to tell him what she wanted. She’d have to show him. In a display of feminine wantonness, she lifted her legs and rested them across his hips.
His answering groan told her that he had gotten her message. He lifted his head and his lower body at the same time. And she braced her hands on his arms as he positioned himself between her legs. She thought to tell him that it had been a long time, but she was not quick enough. In one smooth thrust, he was inside her.
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