by Marie Force
“You can’t let on that I told you. I promised her I wouldn’t.”
“This is good. He needs a girlfriend. It’s been too long.”
“I wouldn’t exactly call her his girlfriend. I don’t think that’s how it’s going to be.”
“What do you mean?”
“Picture more of a friends-with-benefits arrangement.”
“Sex buddies?”
“Something like that.”
“Huh.” Nathan ran a hand over his chin as he considered it. “That’s not his style. I’m surprised he agreed to it.”
Georgie shrugged. “Whatever floats their boat.”
“I wouldn’t go for that, personally.”
“No, you wouldn’t.”
Their eyes met, and Georgie couldn’t look away. “I’m tired,” she whispered.
“Go to sleep. I’ll go in a minute.”
“No.”
“No?”
Her hand traveled from his chest to his taut belly and back up again. “I’m tired of fighting whatever this is that’s happening between us. Fighting it is so exhausting.”
“Georgie.” He released an unsteady breath. “You’ve had a long day, an emotional day. This isn’t the time—”
She stopped him with a finger to his lips. “Make love to me, Nathan. Make love to me the way you said you wanted to before.”
He swallowed hard. “No condoms.”
“I know where there’re some. I’ll go get them.”
His hand closed around her arm, stopping her from getting up. “Are you sure, Georgie? Really sure?”
“Yes. I’m sure.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Tess scooted over against the wall to give Ben plenty of room to get into the full-sized bed. The T-shirt he had given her to sleep in rode up over her underwear, so she tugged it back down with a hand that had grown damp with nerves. Jumping into bed with a man she had met two days ago—not to mention sharing his toothbrush—went against everything she believed in. However, jumping into bed with Ben just felt right. Why? She had no idea, and she wasn’t in the mood to question it.
He hobbled across the hall from the bathroom wearing only a pair of sweats with socks.
As she took in her first view of his bare chest, her mouth went dry with longing. As he came closer, she noticed the scars that dotted his right side and remembered what he had told her about his shrapnel wounds.
“Kind of hot for sweats, isn’t it?”
“It’s more comfortable when it’s covered up,” he said, gesturing to his leg.
Tess held out a hand to help him into bed. “Okay?”
“Yeah.” He grimaced as he adjusted his leg. “Give me a second.”
As she watched him breathe through the pain, she reached out to lay a hand on his chest and felt his heart beating fast.
He covered her hand with his but kept his eyes closed tight against the agony.
“You can’t live like this. We have to do something.”
“We?”
“Yes. You and me.”
“You make me believe anything’s possible.”
“It is.”
He finally opened his eyes and turned so he could see her. “You aren’t going to tell me you’re an alien or a felon on the run or married or anything else that’s going to ruin my life forever, are you?”
Since she no longer considered herself married in any way that mattered and had no desire to ever be married again, she shook her head.
“That’s good, because some time during this weekend, it might’ve even been when you were being so testy with me on the way to the hospital the other night—”
She poked him in the ribs, making him grunt with laughter.
“—or maybe it was when I saw you holding Rosie and I could tell you want a child of your own more than you want just about anything. It could’ve been when I found out what a dirty mind you have buried under that innocent façade when we played Scrabble. Of course, it was probably the first time I kissed you. Was that only yesterday?”
Barely breathing as she waited for him to get to the point, Tess nodded. “Ben?”
“Hmm?”
“What are you talking about?”
“I’m trying to decide exactly when I fell in love with you, Tess.”
“You . . . Oh.”
He twirled a lock of her long hair around his finger. “Is that a good ‘oh’ or a bad ‘oh’?”
“That’s a really good ‘oh.’” She reached out to caress his face. “Because I love you, too.”
“You don’t have to say—”
“Unlike you, though, I know exactly when I realized it.”
“Is that so?”
“Uh-huh,” she said, with a teasing smile.
“Are you going to tell me?”
“How bad do you want to know?”
“Bad.” He drew her into his arms and worked his good leg between hers. “Very, very bad.”
“In that case, it was when you stared up into that cop’s flashlight on the beach. The expression on your face was priceless. I just knew.”
“A really romantic moment,” he said dryly. “I’m touched.”
She arched an eyebrow. “Do you want me to take it back?”
“Please don’t,” he whispered, burying his face in her hair. “Please don’t ever take it back.”
“Ben?”
“Yeah?”
“If we, you know, love each other, I’d really like to . . .”
“Make love?”
Stroking his hard length through the soft fabric of his sweats, she nodded. Never once, in all the time she’d been married, had she ever done anything quite so brazen. It wouldn’t have occurred to her then to reach out and take what she wanted.
“I want to,” he said. “You can’t imagine how badly I want to.”
“To the contrary. I have my hand on the evidence.”
“I don’t know if I can,” he said with a small, sad smile.
“Between the two of us, we can figure something out, no?”
“I don’t know if I’m ready,” he clarified. The conversation alone seemed to embarrass and diminish him. Perhaps there was more to his injuries than he had let on. Either way, this wasn’t how she wanted it to go, not after having just declared her love for him.
Tess removed her hand, regretting she had pushed him.
He returned it to where she’d had it. “That doesn’t mean we can’t mess around a little.”
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You won’t.”
As she gently stroked him through his clothes, he slid a hand under her shirt and groaned when he encountered the warm skin of her back.
“You feel so good,” he said.
“Tell me about your life before you got hurt. Before the war.”
“I’m not sure I can talk when you’re doing that.”
She moved her hand up to his belly. “Then we’ll get back to it.”
Whimpering in protest, he bemoaned the loss.
“You’ll live,” she said, giggling. “The faster you talk, the faster you’ll get what you want.”
As if he was on speed, he said, “Before I got called up to active duty in the Guard, I was an architect. I worked for a local firm, had a nice apartment downtown, a girlfriend who said she loved me, and a lot of good friends who seemed to scatter—along with my so-called girlfriend—when I came home in pieces.” He pushed her hand down and groaned when she resisted.
“You’re an architect,” she said with amazement.
“Was.”
“Are.”
“It’s been a couple of years.”
“But you could go back to it. You don’t need your leg to sit at a drafting table.”
“I need my leg to stop hurting so much it crushes every ounce of creativity I might’ve had. It’s all I can do to take a shower every day. I’d be no good to them in this condition.”
“Surely they held your job for you.”
; “They said the door’s always open. They’re good guys to work for. I loved that job.”
“You have to have your leg removed, Ben. Prosthetics have come so far in the last few years. You could regain your mobility and get your life back on track.”
“The question is whether they can give me enough of a stump to make a prosthesis feasible.”
“So you’ve asked about it.”
“In broad terms. No specifics.”
“Even if you had to be on crutches, you’d be better off than you are now living in agonizing pain.”
“Would you love me less if I had only one leg?”
“Don’t you ever ask me that question again, Bennett Caldwell. Not ever, ever again.”
“I love when you get all bossy with me like that,” he said, mimicking her tone.
“You want to see bossy, mister?”
“Oh yeah. I want to see that.”
She leaned in to kiss him, reveling in the soft feel of his lips gliding in time with hers and the knowledge that he loved her. Filled with a sense of safety and contentment she had forgotten existed, she ran her tongue over his bottom lip.
He cupped her cheek and kept his lips close to hers. “I’ve been thinking about what you said, about going to see Greg’s family. Before I make any definite decisions about my leg, I think I’d like to see them, but only if you come with me.”
“Of course I’d go with you. Where are they?”
“Pittsburgh. I was going to call his folks tomorrow and see if they’re up for it. What’s your work schedule like next weekend?”
“That soon?”
“I want to get it over with so I can stop thinking about it.”
“You make the plans, and I’ll get the time off.”
“Thank you.” He kissed her and pushed her hand back down to where he wanted it most. “You’ve let a perfectly good hard-on get away with all this talking.”
“Let me see what I can do about that.”
Cat was stretched out on top of Ian as his hands moved in a tantalizingly slow pattern up and down her back. She wanted to purr like a kitten, but this Cat didn’t purr—at least she never had before.
Ian Caldwell. Mmmm. The man sure knew how to please a woman. Just thinking about it made her wonder if he was up for another round. Glancing out the window to the club, she saw the bouncers clearing the room and the band breaking down their equipment. She choked back a yawn and was surprised to realize it was already one o’clock. Time flies when you’re having fun, she thought with a smile.
Her employees knew the drill for closing. She would have to lock up the money and account for it in the morning, but the only thing that required her immediate attention was the splendid male chest under her lips.
Flicking her tongue over his nipple, she watched with fascination as it sprang to life. Another part of him weighed in against her belly.
“Don’t start anything,” he mumbled. “That was our only condom.”
“That’s so disappointing. I expected better from you.”
“Oh? And why’s that?”
“You’ve got that whole Boy Scout ‘be prepared’ thing going on.”
In her ear, he whispered, “Do I fuck like a Boy Scout?”
She hooted with laughter. “Your attention to detail is admirable. Do they give a badge for that?”
“I can’t remember. I’ll check my eagle sash and get back to you.”
“I knew it! I’m sleeping with a freaking eagle scout! This’ll wreck my reputation as a bad ass.”
“Me and Nate both,” he said proudly. “And I hate to point out that there hasn’t been much sleeping involved, but we can fix that.” He held her face in a gesture so tender, her heart staggered. “Come home with me tonight. Sleep with me.”
“Is that allowed under the terms of our deal?”
“The hell with the deal. I want you in my bed.”
He was so good—a good, kind, honest, caring man who definitely did not fuck like Boy Scout. Cat knew she didn’t deserve him, but she couldn’t seem to resist him, either. “Where’s Rosie?”
“Staying with my parents at my brother’s house. Coast is clear.”
“Are you sure? Maybe we’d be better off at my house.”
“I’d rather not run into my brothers when I’m sneaking out in the morning.”
She contemplated that. “All right. Your place it is.”
Since Ian had walked into town, they took Cat’s Jeep to his house.
“My place is in the back,” he said, pointing to the long driveway.
“Who lives there?”
“My brother Kevin.”
“Your parents are staying there? Right next door?”
“They’re sleeping on the other side of the house.” Flashing a teasing smile, he added, “We’ll close the bedroom window so you can make as much noise as you want.”
“I don’t know about this, Ian. What will they say when they see my car here?”
“They won’t say anything. We stay out of each other’s crap. Otherwise, I wouldn’t live here.”
“Why do you? Live here?”
“It helps to keep my expenses down so I can work less and spend most of my time with Rosie.”
Admirable, she thought but didn’t say it.
“If it makes you more comfortable, I’ll move your car out to the street, okay?”
“That would be better. Thank you.”
“Go on up.” He pointed to a flight of stairs. “Door’s unlocked.”
“Take it easy on my clutch. She’s sensitive.”
“Like her mama.” He kissed her cheek and nudged her out of the car.
With a mixture of trepidation and curiosity—and another glance at the big dark house, the close big dark house—Cat went up the stairs. Inside, her first impression was one of neatness. Yes, there were toys, and yes, a guitar was propped in the corner, but everything was neatly stowed.
She had expected a bachelor pad, but instead she found a home where Rosie was front and center. Her pictures from infancy to the present hung in frames on the wall along with her artwork. Cat studied the progression of photos. She really was a cute kid, if you were into kids, that is.
Ian came bounding up the stairs.
Cat spun around to shush him. “You’ll wake up the dead making all that racket!”
“They aren’t going to wake up, babe. Don’t sweat it.”
She shouldn’t have liked him calling her that quite as much as she did, but the sexy, proprietary way he said it appealed to her even though she knew it wasn’t wise.
“Beer?”
“Sure.”
He opened two bottles and brought them with him to the sofa. “Hungry?”
“No, thanks. I’m good.”
Reaching for her feet, he surprised her when he knocked off her flip-flops, swung her feet into his lap, and began rubbing them.
Cat had no choice but to let her head fall back against one of the oversized pillows.
He pushed his thumbs into her tense arches. “Feel good?”
“Mmm,” she said. That urge to purr again!
“You must get tired being on your feet all night.”
“You don’t have to do that,” she said, frantic to remind him—and herself—that they weren’t about this caring and sharing thing. They were about one thing and one thing only. She would remind him of that. Really she would, just as soon as she got enough of the divine foot massage. The man had amazing hands, and as he had proven a few times already, he knew how to use them.
“I like doing it,” he said, surprising her again by pressing his lips to the sole of her foot.
In danger of losing her equilibrium, Cat took a long sip of her beer, closed her eyes, and gave herself over to the pleasure. She hadn’t even known she liked having her feet rubbed until Ian Caldwell rubbed them. “Nice place,” she said a few minutes later.
“Miss Priss is the queen of this roost, as you can see.”
“She’s lucky to have
you.”
He seemed taken aback by the unexpected compliment. “I’m the lucky one. She’s by far the best thing in my life.”
“How’d you end up raising her alone?”
“I’m not doing it alone. I’ve got a huge village around me.”
“I’ll rephrase the question. Where’s her mother?”
“I don’t know. Last I heard she was moving to North Carolina.”
“She has nothing to do with her? With Rosie?”
He shook his head, but his jaw pulsed with tension she might have missed if she hadn’t been looking so closely. “She hasn’t seen her since the day she was born.”
Cat watched, waited, and wondered if he’d say more.
“You really want to hear this?” he asked warily.
“Yeah, I guess I do.” Why she wanted to know was something she’d think about later.
He rolled his head as if to relieve tension in his neck. “She was a waitress at one of the clubs where I worked in the summer. She was young—too young for me.”
Intrigued, Cat realized he was ashamed that he had dallied with a younger woman.
“We started hanging out, one thing led to another. She told me she was on the pill, so I was sketchy with the condoms—stupid on a number of levels, I know. I discovered later she was on the pill, but more often than not, she forgot to take it.”
“How’d you find out she was pregnant?”
“When she asked me to pay for an abortion.” He took a drink of his beer. “I went nuts. Don’t get me wrong—I’m not a holy roller or anything, and I’m all for a woman’s right to choose. But not when it’s my kid and not when I was willing and able to give the child a loving home.”
“So she agreed to have the baby?”
“Hell no. I had to beg and plead and cajole and give her all kinds of money. It got really ugly really quickly, which made for a long nine months. She was so pissed at me, we were hardly speaking by the time Rosie was born.”
“Were you there for the birth?”
For the first time since the conversation began, he brightened. “Yeah,” he said softly. “It was the most amazing moment of my whole life. When Rosie came out, her mother refused to even acknowledge her, so the doctor handed her to me. I took one look at my daughter and knew that all the fighting had been worth it. Rosie’s mother told me to fuck off. I said, ‘Gladly,’ and I walked out with my little girl. We’ve never seen or heard from her again.”