Lavender Blue

by Donna Kauffman

  It was more shockingly intimate than she would have expected—their palms united, warm, bare flesh against flesh—as he rubbed his fingertips over her knuckles.

  He tugged her that infinitesimal bit closer and shifted his head to take her mouth. Gently, but oh so fully. She almost whimpered in relief as his warm lips covered hers, parted them. Then he slipped his tongue inside, teased hers, suckled her. She heard a long, low groan from somewhere inside him when she did the same in return. Then he broke the kiss, pressing his forehead to hers. She could barely hear the sound of the creek behind them for the sound of her pulse throbbing inside her ear. Everything was throbbing.

  “Maybe dinner tomorrow is a good idea,” he said roughly. “Jake can stay at Addie’s tonight.” He opened his eyes and lifted his head enough to look down into hers. “If you’d like.”

  “I would very much like.”

  “Seven?” he asked.

  “What time is it now?” She leaned in close and nibbled his earlobe and had the satisfaction of feeling him tremble. She whispered in his ear, “Would now be good?”

  * * *

  Hannah pulled into the garage under her loft and shut off the engine. She couldn’t get out of the Jeep fast enough. It was only because they’d driven separate cars that they’d managed to make it all the way to their destination at all. If there had been any concern that their brief time apart would have allowed the heat to cool or second thoughts to rush in, she needn’t have worried.

  Will pulled in right behind Hannah. The dust hadn’t even settled on the driveway behind them as they raced up the stairs. She might have been giggling madly and he might have been chasing her, and maybe, just maybe, she let him catch her right inside the door, grinning and breathless, just so she could feel what it would be like for him to back her against the nearest wall and finally, mercifully, thank-you-Lord, feel the entire length of his wonderfully warm, hard body pressed up against every last one of the soft, and quite damp, parts of hers.

  There were gasps and moans, and there was laughter, always laughter, which somehow thrilled her and seduced even more fully than his very skilled mouth and his oh-so-clever hands.

  When they couldn’t stand any longer, her carried her to bed—carried her—making her feel young and free, beautiful and desirable. Addie Pearl might have schooled her not to wait for her white knight, and Will McCall had more than a few dings in his armor, but he was all the knight Hannah needed.

  This time they undressed each other fully before tossing off pillows and climbing into the delicious coolness of her soft linen sheets. He was hard planes and bunched muscles and she was soft curves and ample everything, and yet they seemed to fit into each other’s arms with very little angling and rearranging.

  “I need to find my pants,” he said, when he lifted his head from where he’d been doing the most amazing things to her nipples. He grinned then. “I did come better prepared this time.”

  Her head was still arched back, eyes closed in bliss, her hips pinned down by the weight of his arm. So she flung her hand somewhere in the general direction of her nightstand. “So did I.”

  “So thoughtful,” he murmured, returning to his task.

  “So needy,” she replied, then moaned in appreciation when he finally began making his way down her torso.

  One thrust of his tongue and her most immediate need was met with a loud and guttural shout. So was her second. And her third. “Come here,” she said breathlessly, reaching for him. “I’m dangerously close to being climaxed unconscious.”

  His grin bordered on smug. She figured he’d earned that right. “We wouldn’t want that.” He grabbed a condom from her nightstand, finally ripping the packet open with his teeth. Maybe she wasn’t the only one shaking with anticipation. He turned to her, pulled her into his arms, then shifted his weight until he was on top of her.

  “True,” she said, still short of breath, thinking her blissed-out grin might be permanent. “This next bit would be more fun for you if I were an active participant.”

  “Hopefully for you, too,” he said wryly, then bent his head and nipped at one earlobe while settling in between her legs.

  Hannah felt a sudden rush of emotion, feeling his weight finally fully on top of her, wanting to feel him inside her, wanting him to fill her. More than once since her divorce, since the accident, and all that dealing with both of those things had entailed, she’d thought she should just find someone decent who wouldn’t mind a friends-with-benefits arrangement, leap that hurdle, and put it behind her, so it wouldn’t gain any unnecessary importance. Now, lying here, in her bed, with only the second man she’d ever been with, she was so very glad she’d waited. She looked up into Will’s beautiful green eyes, and knew, no matter where this led, for this particular part of her forward journey, she wouldn’t have wanted it to be anyone other than him.

  Given their urgency to this point, she’d expected him to take her in some breathless rush of heat and need. Instead, he lived up to his word, about putting her needs first. He took his time. His wonderful foreplay had relaxed her and she certainly couldn’t have been more ready, but after years of celibacy, she was a bit snug, and he was a bit above average, so he entered her slowly, letting her body adapt to him. She closed her eyes and focused on the feeling, for so long not a part of her life, and at the same time, so wonderful. She opened her eyes in time to see him close his as he sank fully inside her. She arched up to meet him, holding him tightly. He groaned so deeply she could feel his chest vibrate against hers. He stopped moving and she spent a split-second wondering if he was trying to hold himself back from climaxing, or if he, too, was having to adjust to the idea of being with someone new. And if it was as positive for him as it was for her. She didn’t want those thoughts to intrude now but couldn’t stop them.

  Before nerves or doubt could take hold, his eyes opened again, and his gaze pinned immediately on hers, and stayed there as he began to move inside her. She wrapped her legs around him and arched into him, moving with him as they slowly found their rhythm. Any and all comparisons to any other part of her life vanished as she gave herself completely over to him, to this new life she was living now. This was who she was now, who she was with now, and it was glorious. Nothing else mattered.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Will hadn’t been exaggerating about his desire for her, his hunger. But that hadn’t meant he hadn’t been worried—okay, more than worried—about how it would feel to make love to her. He’d actually been thankful—mostly—that they’d been forced to stop short the first time. No pressure to do more than get used to being with each other in a fully intimate way.

  But following her to her place that afternoon, knowing they would be taking that giant step—to his mind anyway—he’d still worried. Not performance anxiety so much as whether he’d be able to stay in the moment and keep his past where it belonged at a time like that: in the past.

  He’d been with no one else in all that time. Surely there would be hurdles, obstacles, mental all of them, but that just made them all the more challenging. Maybe it had been their utter and complete openness with each other. Not just about taking a step forward together, but about their respective pasts. He knew she was fully aware of what he’d been dealing with, so there was nothing to fear there. He knew, because she’d told him the first time that she’d also been celibate for her entire time as a single woman.

  And that had made it easier for him. Because he was more worried about taking care of her needs, about making it as easy as possible for her, releasing him from having to overthink his own potential issues.

  Her humor and openness charmed him, her responsiveness to his every touch turned him on, and the way she gave herself over to him when he was fully inside her had had him falling even harder and faster.

  She lay asleep now, sprawled across his chest. She was delightfully unselfconscious about her body. Not because it was perfect. She’d joked when he’d undressed her earlier that afternoon that she’d w
ished she’d thought to wear leggings again as they kept things from jiggling that shouldn’t, and when he’d bared her breasts that first time, she hadn’t tried to hide the stretch marks, or explain them away. He admired that.

  She’d lived a full life in her body, given birth, nursed a child, worked, played, and now made love again with that body. His was banged up and marked up, had been shot at more than once, and worked his body hard every single day in his job. He bore the aftereffects of his life, too. And life would continue to do that to both of them. He wasn’t turned off by that, he wasn’t seeking perfection, and thank God neither was she. Perfection was ephemeral and impossible to maintain. They weren’t kids anymore, and he discovered he liked the comfort there was to be had in being fully, naturally themselves when they were together, scars, stretch marks, and all.

  “Penny for your thoughts,” she said drowsily, as her eyes blinked open to find him watching her. Her eyes were soft, and full of happiness and affection. He didn’t think he’d ever tire of looking into them.

  “I was just thinking that there are some parts about getting older I don’t mind.”

  “Like what?” she asked, folding her arms on his chest and propping her chin there.

  “Like not having so many hang-ups about the things that don’t matter. And really appreciating the things that do.”

  She thought that over, nodded. “Agreed.” She tilted her head to the side slightly and said, “Although I’m not so sure how I feel about not being able to sustain that one position we tried because my knees just weren’t having it.”

  He laughed in surprise and she just shrugged unrepentantly.

  “I happen to really like that position,” she said.

  “Well,” he said, “maybe we’ll find some use for those pillows after all.”

  She grinned at that. “Problem solver.”

  Now he shrugged, the smile still there. “Like I said, you make me aware of your needs, I’ll do my best to meet them.”

  She sighed and kissed him right on the heart. “My hero.”

  This, he thought. This is what I want in my life. Making love to a woman I hunger for, laughing and talking about nothing at all, then finding our way right back to pleasuring each other all over again.

  He shifted her off his chest and rolled her to her back, having to shove several pillows out of the way. “Speaking of small things, knee pads notwithstanding, we might have to have a conversation about the pillow population. I’m pretty sure they procreated when we weren’t looking.”

  “It’s true,” she told him. “I stopped trying to control the population explosion years ago. They kept me company, though, so we both got what we wanted.”

  “Sounds reasonable,” he said. “But perhaps we can cull the herd from time to time.”

  She looked up at him. “I rather like the pillow I was just sleeping on moments ago. We can banish the lot of them if you’ll keep me company and give me a place to rest my head.” Her smile spread. “I’m easy like that.”

  He chuckled and marveled at the same time. He’d expected to have a lot of heavy lifting to do when it came time to be with someone new, making endless bargains with himself to make it okay to move on, to not feel guilty for doing so. Maybe it was true that all it took was meeting the right person to put one’s life in perspective. But he felt remarkably okay. Stunningly so, in fact.

  The oddest thing of all was that being with Hannah helped him frame his past the way he’d always wished he could. Instead of feeling like he was replacing Zoey, which he could never and would never do, he felt like his life with her had prepared him for the life that losing her had pushed him into now. He was a better lover, a better partner, and a better person because of his wife. She’d have hated the man he’d become after her death. And now . . . now he thought maybe he’d finally found his way forward. Allowing love to grow inside him again celebrated rather than diminished the love he’d felt before, as if he was building on that very sturdy foundation they’d begun.

  “You’re staring, again,” she said a bit sleepily.

  “I was just appreciating the things that matter,” he said.

  Her expression softened, and she blinked her eyes open again. “You say the best things.”

  He leaned closer and kissed her. “I blame you.”

  She giggled as he shifted her so he could kiss the side of her neck and nibble her ear.

  “For this part, too.” He worked his way down. “And this part.”

  She gasped as he closed his mouth over one nipple, but before he could start yet another exploratory journey in learning the wonders of her body, she tugged him gently back up to her.

  “What is it?” he asked, when she took a moment to search his eyes.

  “We’re okay?” she asked him, so sweetly, but also honestly, that he knew she wanted a real answer.

  He also knew exactly what she meant. Maybe something of his thoughts had shown on his face after all. “We’re better than okay,” he told her, without hesitation.

  Her expression broke into a wide, happy smile. “That’s exactly what I was thinking.”

  “Look out,” he told her, wiggling his eyebrows and making her laugh, “maybe tomorrow we’ll actually go on a date.”

  “You sound awfully confident that I’ll say yes,” she teased.

  “I’ve come to discover a few rather persuasive techniques that might weaken your resolve,” he replied.

  “Is that so,” she said, appearing to ponder the validity of his boastful claim. “Maybe you should demonstrate.”

  He grinned. “I thought you’d never ask.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  “Knock knock,” Hannah called through the front door to Will’s house. She’d been there numerous times the past two weeks while Jake had been away at camp. He’d just gotten back home again, though, and she didn’t think it would be right to simply knock and go in as she’d been doing recently.

  Jake answered the door. “Hannah, hey!” he said, grinning broadly as he opened the door. “Let me help with that.” He took her easel and her toolbox so she could pick up the oversized pad of watercolor paper she’d leaned against the house.

  She followed him into the small foyer. “I swear you got taller while you were gone.”

  “Actually, I did. I was getting cramps, or what felt like cramps, but like my bones hurt. Dad took me to Doc Hamilton when I got back yesterday and it turns out I’ve grown over an inch since March. He said growth spurts happen sometimes and when it goes fast it can make your bones hurt. Or, something like that.”

  “Ouch,” Hannah said, and started to share a story about Liam being tall for his age and experiencing growing pains, too, but stopped herself. She knew Jake was aware now that she had a son, and that he’d died. Will had talked to him before he’d gone off to camp. But she and Jake still hadn’t talked about it directly. She knew she needed to find a way to bring the subject up, so Jake wouldn’t feel awkward about it, so he’d know it was okay to talk about it, and that had been the perfect moment. If she were honest, there had been a few other moments before he’d left for camp, but she hadn’t been able to just go ahead with it. She wasn’t entirely sure why.

  Hannah had asked Addie to use her judgment in talking about Liam with Bailey. Only because if Jake knew, then it was better if they both did. And she and Will couldn’t really move forward with that piece of information hanging over their heads. She’d offered to talk to Bailey herself, as she had with Jake, but Addie agreed it might be easier for her to have that conversation for the same reason Will had decided it would be best if he told Jake. That would allow the kids a chance to process the information without her sitting right there in front of them. They could ask any questions they wanted without fear of hurting her or making her sad.

  Hannah smiled inwardly as she directed Jake to take her easel and supplies out to the big screened-in porch off the back of the house. True to form, after Addie had talked to her, Bailey had waited until Jake had left fo
r camp, then she’d sought Hannah out. The first time Hannah had gone down to Addie’s meadow to paint, Bailey had simply run right up to her and hugged her tight. She’d told Hannah she was very sorry and apologized about the baby lamb. Hannah had hugged her right back, sniffled a lot, and thanked Bailey for being the good-hearted person she was. She’d assured Bailey she owed no apologies of any kind. She’d half expected Bailey to ask her some questions, but she hadn’t. Oddly, that had made it easier for Hannah to bring Liam up on occasion when the two of them happened to be alone in the meadow together. Liam’s name hadn’t come up often, just once or twice, but Bailey had simply taken it in stride, and responded as she would if Hannah were talking about any other part of her family. It had been . . . freeing. Who knew that your safe space would be with an eleven-year-old girl?

  Hannah watched Jake set up her easel, and wished she knew why it was easy with Bailey and so hard with him. Of course, Jake hadn’t said a word about her loss, but Hannah wasn’t surprised. He wasn’t like Bailey that way. Hannah knew it would be up to her to bring it up. She just . . . hadn’t. Yet.

  “Thanks,” she told him. “This is going to be a wonderful place to paint. I’m grateful to you and your dad for letting me set up shop here for a bit. Your view of the creek is spectacular. The trees, the downhill slope, painting while listening to the water, all the birds, the frogs. I’ve taken a ton of photos, but I knew being here would make it that much better.”

  Jake nodded, liking her excitement. “I like it out here, too. I used to sleep out here sometimes in the summer when I was little. Grandma Dot would burn those candles that keep the mosquitos away.”

  “Oh, I would have loved that,” she told him. “What made you stop? Too tall for the wicker couch I’m guessing,” she teased. Too late Hannah realized her gaffe. It was quite probable that Jake had stopped sleeping out here when his grandmother had passed away. “Jake, I—”