Melting into You

by Trentham, Laura

  He squeezed her hand, his voice barely above a whisper. “Are you trying to fix Hancock House to appease your guilt?”

  She pulled her hand from under his. “Hold it right there, Dr. Phil. One has nothing to do with the other.”

  Even as she protested, his question arrowed into her chest. Was she working with such desperation on Hancock House out of guilt to the dead? At this point did it matter? She’d chosen her path.

  He rolled to his back, scooching further onto the bed, leaving only his feet hanging off. “I don’t want to see you drown under the responsibility of his house. You’re too . . . vibrant.”

  The compliment kept her balancing on a knife’s edge of emotions. Alec was alternately prickly and incisive and sweet. She cleared her throat, forcing a measure of tease in her voice. “What would you know about parental guilt, anyway? You and your parents were the perfect little family. The cameras loved them at the ballgames.”

  His body stilled as if cast in bronze. She pushed up the bed beside him, poked him in the side, and continued hesitantly. “I heard they moved back to Jasper. You get up there to see them often?”

  “Actually, I haven’t talked to them in a while.” A sad story lived behind his admission.

  Instead of lecturing him or pressing him for more details like some gossip magazine, she reached out and brushed his shoulder with her fingertips. The muscle jerked under her hand, but he didn’t shrug her off, so she ran her hand farther down his arm to rest on his biceps. Ink extended beyond his shirtsleeve. She traced the dark swirls with a fingertip. Goose bumps broke over his arm, and he relaxed like a deflating balloon.

  She curled up at his side, her hand sliding under the sleeve of his shirt to settle on the bare curve of his shoulder. She had no idea what time it was, but the moon was high. Now the adrenaline had worn off, the deep, even cadence of his breathing had her creeping steadily toward sleep.

  8

  The beep of a watch jerked Alec out of his dream. Dawn signaled his workout time, but damn he was comfortable and warm. The threads of his dream unraveled quickly in the orangey light streaming through the windows, but Alec recalled a very naked Lilliana had played a starring role.

  Fragments of the night before fit themselves together. He’d fallen asleep in Lilliana’s bed. Not only that, but sometime during the night, they’d changed positions, and lay lengthwise on the bed and covered by her cedar-scented quilt.

  This time they were face-to-face, her breasts pressed into his chest, her breath warm across his neck. The urge to repeat their one afternoon mistake grew his morning wood into a Sequoya.

  Physical attraction. He was horny. That’s all this was.

  Except, instead of getting off with a quickie, he wanted to spend the day in bed with her. He wanted to bring her to orgasm a half-dozen times while she chanted his name. He wanted to coax her bra off and explore every bare inch of her. Even more, he wanted to talk and laugh with her as they cuddled under the covers.

  Somehow, she had wiggled past his defenses. When she’d told him about her father, he’d heard the same regret in her voice that had been battling in the hollowness of his chest for weeks, months, years. He’d almost spilled his ugly truth.

  He hadn’t spoken to his parents in three long years. He trashed their emails without reading them and deleted their phone messages before listening, but with every day that passed, the lines of his hatred blurred. His finger had hovered over the mouse ready to open their last email. The subject line had been WE MISS YOU. His mother, bless her heart, always typed in all-caps. It was one of those annoying, endearing things that had been chipping away at his will to keep them at arm’s length.

  He was getting older and so were they. What if he woke one day to the news one of them had died? More than anyone, Lilliana would have understood, yet he’d stayed silent. Old habits were hard to break, especially the destructive ones.

  She stirred against him, her back rounding in a slight stretch that pressed her pelvis against his erection. He muttered a curse, foolish impulses denting his self-control.

  With her eyes still closed, she rolled to her back and threw her arms above her head, her back arching this time. Her dark ponytail flowed over the white pillow. Before he could think, he inhaled close to the mass of waves. She smelled of southern summer flowers—magnolias and honeysuckle—an intoxicating combination. What did her skin smell like? What did she taste like?

  Her face was turned away, her neck issuing an invitation. Her eyes remained closed, her breathing coming at regular intervals. He dropped his face to her neck, his lips a hairs-breadth from her skin, so close her woman-scented warmth kindled a fire in his chest. With each breath he took, with each pass of his lips, close but not touching her skin, the blaze in his chest grew, becoming almost a physical pain.

  More than desire fed the ache, although that was certainly part of it. It was a melancholic longing for something he couldn’t name.

  He slipped out of the bed without waking her. The hardest part had been peeling himself away from her body. The morning sun had risen over the horizon, soft light diffusing through the room. She stirred and let out a soft, innocent mewl. Her throaty moans the afternoon they’d had sex had been anything but innocent.

  He eased out of her door. A bump at the other end of the hall whipped him around. Hunter stood in the middle of the hallway, his backpack slung over a shoulder, his shoes dangling from one hand, his eyes huge.

  Aw, hell. Maybe the best way to handle this was not to mention anything. “Morning, Hunter. Let me grab my stuff and I’ll give you a lift to school.”

  “I can walk.”

  “Sure you can, but that won’t get you half a dozen ham biscuits.”

  Alec’s self-centered blinders disintegrated under Hunter’s unguarded smile. It had been a year or more since he’d seen Hunter smile like that. Probably since everything went down with Scott Larkin the previous fall. Alec assumed the kid had brushed off the incident—his performance on the field never faltered—but Alec had never actually asked him how he was doing. He felt like a selfish asshole.

  After buying Hunter a bag full of ham biscuits and dropping him at the high school, Alec stopped by the small office he kept in a nondescript strip mall away from downtown. He was juggling several projects around Falcon and a couple in neighboring counties. Word-of-mouth had sent him clients from as far as Jasper and Tuscaloosa.

  He spent the rest of the day ignoring his aches and pains and shoving thoughts of Lilliana aside. Except she skipped around the edges of his mind even while he oversaw an expensive kitchen remodel. The tile was expensive, but seeing it on the walls made Alec think of Lilliana’s pink bathroom.

  After scavenging remnants to show Lilliana later, he moved on the next job and the next until it was time for football practice. His fall schedule revolved around football, and he often went back to work after practice. His days were busy, leaving little time for a social life, but that suited him fine. He’d partied enough in his youth to last a lifetime.

  Practice went well. Hunter was looser and played with heart. Robbie Dalton joined Alec on the sideline watching the scrimmage, his dog Avery settling between them. Alec absently dropped a hand to the dog’s head for a pat never taking his eyes off Hunter.

  Dalt stared out at the field. “Whatever you’ve been doing with Hunter, keep it up. He’s a different player out there today.”

  Dalt and Logan were the closest things Alec had to real friends. Yet it had been a long time since he’d confided in anyone. His words flowed haltingly. “Dude . . . I think Hunter’s situation is worse than we thought.”

  “What’s going on?” Dalt crossed his arms over his chest, focusing his laser attention on Alec. “And does the fact you look like you’ve been in a bar fight have anything to do with Hunter?”

  Alec fingered the road rash on his left cheek. “Will Galloway tackled me the other night when I stopped by to check on Hunter. Too bad that kid never got into football. He’d have been an
outstanding linebacker.”

  “Football could’ve have saved Will. Now I’m not so sure anything can save him.” Dalt’s voice was at once harsh and understanding. His childhood had been a nightmare, and he credited football—particularly his football coach—for showing him a way out. It was something he shared and preached to every incoming class.

  “Hunter’s been studying and maybe even sleeping out in the woods to avoid going home. Some middle-aged white druggie named Bone-man is living at their house. Last night I took Hunter to Lilliana Hancock’s, and she put him up.”

  Dalt’s blue eyes narrowed and he muttered a curse. “Can Lilliana put Hunter up for a few more nights?”

  “Not sure.”

  “If you have a favor to call in with her, do it.”

  A favor? Obviously, Logan hadn’t spilled about Alec and Lilliana’s afternoon escapade. He had no doubt Lilliana would take Hunter in without him having to beg, but the box of tile in his truck might smooth the way.

  Dalt whistled and gestured Logan over. Logan threw his arms over both of their shoulders. “What can I do you for, gentlemen?”

  “You ever heard of some white druggie named Bone-man?”

  “Can’t say that I have, although he sounds absolutely charming.” Logan’s mouth twisted into his customary, good-natured smile.

  “He’s living with the Galloways. Could you find out what kind of shit he’s involved in?”

  “Sure thing.” A frown replaced Logan’s smile, and he dropped to his heels to give Avery a good rub behind the ears. The three of them watched Hunter scramble out of the pocket and throw a perfect downfield pass on the run.

  “Two more college recruiters contacted me this week. Big-time programs.” Dalt’s voice rumbled, full of worry. “If Will’s lifestyle bleeds into Hunter’s, no one will touch him. This is not about the Falcons making the playoffs, this is about that kid having the opportunity to have a different sort of life.”

  Alec shot Dalt a wry half smile. “But if we make the playoffs on the strength of his arm?”

  Dalt’s smile changed the entire character of his face, making him look less intimidating. “I wouldn’t complain.” He clapped Alec on the back. “Keep me in the loop, and I’ll do what I can from my end.”

  The scrimmage wrapped up, and after Alec had gathered his things, he loitered at his truck in a side lot, organizing various boxes of building supplies and tools as a cover to wait for Hunter.

  Hunter emerged from the locker room with a scrum of other players. He laughed and strutted, the king of the team, the leader, admired by everyone. Alec had been that kid once. It only took one hit on the field or off for everything to evaporate.

  Everyone separated and moved toward their cars. Hunter hung back. His beat-up car wasn’t in the lot, but he didn’t ask anyone for a ride. Instead, he hiked his backpack up on his shoulder and turned toward a shortcut between the school and the field. Mill Town was a good three-mile walk from the stadium.

  The kid might not be getting enough food or sleep, but he had pride to spare. Getting him to accept charity would be difficult. Alec ran a finger over the jagged edge of a piece of tile.

  Will Galloway’s jacked-up brown sedan pulled into the main lot. Hunter pivoted back around. A bass beat rattled the contents of Alec’s truck, the clanging disharmony adding to the tension thickening the air.

  The window rolled down. The music sounded even louder before diminishing to an echo of itself. A man stuck his head out the window and banged his fist on the door. Bone-man. “Yo, Hunter. Let’s go.”

  Hunter’s gaze darted between the car and the grassy shortcut. Alec didn’t give Hunter a chance to decide his fate.

  He strode into the scene and mimicked Bone-man’s authoritative voice, holding up the piece of tile. “Yo, Hunter, don’t forget you agreed to help retile Miss Lilliana’s guest bath.”

  Confusion wrinkled Hunter’s brow, and he picked at an eyebrow. Alec tensed. A corner of the tile broke under the tight grip of his fingers and fell into the grass.

  Finally, Hunter bent over to see inside the brown car. “I’ll catch you guys later. I have to make some money. My car’s been acing funny.”

  Will Galloway’s deep voice came from the car. The windows had been blacked out and Alec couldn’t see him. “I’ll pay to fix your car, bro.”

  “No!” Hunter’s exclamation was loud and forceful. His voice dropped to normal levels and a smile came to his face. After seeing Hunter’s true smile earlier, Alec could tell this one wasn’t one of happiness but appeasement. “Thanks, but it’s my responsibility. Coach will give me a ride.”

  Hunter shot a questioning look toward Alec. He nodded.

  Bone-man and Will had a discussion too quiet to hear. Finally, Bone-man leaned back out the window and pointed a finger, his tone somewhere between threatening and fatherly. “Not happy you didn’t come home last night. Don’t stay out too late, Hunter.”

  Hunter didn’t answer, but shook his head as his brother and Bone-man drove off, the bass music pumping again. The car was out of sight before it was out of earshot. Hunter scuffed his sneaker at a clump of grass, his face down. “Thanks for the save. I’ll catch you later.”

  Before Hunter got more than two steps away, Alec called out. “Hold up. That wasn’t an excuse. You’re coming with me, and we’re retiling Lilliana’s horrible pink guest bathroom.”

  Hunter turned back around, one hand tight around the strap of his backpack, the other picking at his eyebrow again. “You were serious?”

  Hunter’s car being broken gave Alec the leverage he needed. “Yep. Is your car really having trouble?”

  Hunter nodded. “AC is out, and it won’t start.”

  “I’ll get Jeb to fix your car and you can work at Lilliana’s to pay me back, along with some spending money.”

  Hunter dropped his hand from his maligned, sparse eyebrow and shifted his backpack around. “I don’t know how to tile.”

  “I’ll teach you. Trust me, it’s not as hard as calculus.”

  Hunter looked dumbfounded, shifting on his size-thirteen shoes.

  “Well, come on then.” Alec nudged his chin toward his truck and walked to the driver’s side, hoping like hell Hunter was on his heels.

  Two seconds after Alec slid behind the wheel, Hunter opened the passenger door and plopped onto the seat. An eagerness belying his unaffected slouch threaded Hunter’s words. “Do you think Miss Lilliana will cook for us again?”

  “She’s not exactly expecting us.”

  “Ah, shit, Coach. Did you not call her today?”

  “Why would I?” Alec cranked the engine.

  “Dude, I’m discreet, not blind. You were totally sneaking out of her room this morning.”

  What Hunter didn’t know was that they’d spent the night fully clothed and cuddling. Cuddling for Christ sake, and even more, he hadn’t wanted to leave. Should he have called? Why did he feel about Hunter’s age trying to figure out girls?

  “How about we pick up pizzas and surprise her?” Alec gripped the steering wheel, his palms slipping along the leather. Damn, he wished he could be a little more confident as to their reception.

  Hunter shrugged and grinned, his enjoyment of Alec’s predicament obvious. After picking up two larges with everything—the girl behind the counter assured her it was Lilliana’s favorite—they rolled to a stop in front of her house ten minutes after five. Hunter grabbed the pizzas, and Alec grabbed the box of tile.

  He rang the doorbell and chewed his lip, waiting. Her battered SUV was parked on the side in its usual spot. He rang again. A shadow passed on the other side of the stained glass before the door swung wide.

  “Hello there.” Her hand slid up the edge of the door making her oversized T-shirt list off her shoulder, her black braid partially obscuring the strap of a pink bra. Her jeans were ripped at both knees. A variety of paint colors streaked across the thighs in finger patterns, and a smudge of red decorated her cheek like war paint.

&nbs
p; A small smile offset the crinkle at her nose. Her gaze darted between the two of them. “Is it dinnertime already?”

  Hunter held out the boxes like an offering. She took both and headed toward the kitchen. Alec and Hunter exchanged glances and stepped inside. Alec set the box of tile inside the door and followed her into the kitchen.

  She dropped the pizza boxes in the middle of the kitchen table, flipped the top one open, and fist-pumped the air. “Yes. Everything. How did you know?”

  He smiled, her simple happiness contagious. “I asked the girl behind the counter.”

  She grabbed a slice, the cheese stringy. Her smile was teasing and sweet and made his stomach flip. “I get around, haven’t you heard? Chinese delivery boys, pizza girls. What do you fellas want to drink? I’ve got beer, water, tea, or milk.”

  “Milk, please,” Hunter said.

  “I’ll take a beer.” Alec motioned Hunter over to the table, both of them grabbing a slice.

  Lilliana set down a beer, an iced-tea, and a mason jar with milk licking the brim. Hunter killed half the milk and reached for a second slice before Alec was halfway through his first. They ate in silence.

  “You got homework, Hunter?” Alec asked after Hunter pushed back from the table.

  “Calculus and a story to read for English.”

  “You can use the desk in my office if you want.” Lilliana pointed to the mudroom, and Hunter gathered his backpack, retreating.

  Lilliana shifted toward Alec. “What do I owe you for the pizza?”

  “Nothing. Consider it a bribe.”

  “For what?”

  He glanced over at Hunter who was pulling out books and paper at her desk. Alec nudged his head and walked into the parlor, grabbing the tile along the way. She followed.

  “Hunter and I will redo your guest bathroom. I’ll get the wiring up to code and teach Hunter how to tile.” Alec turned a jagged piece of tan-speckled tile in his hands. “I brought some leftovers from a different job to see if you liked the colors.”