Janet was right. Suddenly, he knew what he had to do, and his stomach dipped and whirled. Giving up on the pretense of eating, he rose and took their plates out to the kitchen. He returned with the bottle of wine, nodding at Janet’s half-empty glass. “Top-up?”
“Thank you.” She sat back in her chair, allowing him to pour.
“Do you mind if I stay and wait up for Lucy, Janet?”
Her eyes lit up. “I hoped you would. Why don’t you find the cards, and we’ll have a few games to help pass the time.”
His gaze jerked to her. “Am I that easy to read?”
She laughed. “It doesn’t take a genius. You’ve been glancing at the clock with that dark scowl every few minutes.”
With his mind occupied on thoughts of Lucy, he lost every game to Janet’s amusement.
“Lucky we’re not playing for stakes or you’d be bankrupt.”
He grimaced and shuffled the cards. “Sorry. I’m terrible company lately.”
“Don’t be sorry.” She stretched and pushed her chair back from the table. “But I’m ready for bed now. You’re welcome to the spare room if you’d like to stay the night.” She headed for the stairs.
“Thanks, but I’ll leave when Lucy is safely home.”
Janet paused in the doorway, a smile stretching her mouth. “You two are going to make me the most beautiful grandchildren. My boys would have been so proud.”
His eyes widened at the image her words created. Everything slowed, his blood warmed and grew thicker, thrumming through his veins in liquid heat as the words hit home. He could see it clearly. And he wanted it. God, how he wanted it. A tousle-headed boy, the image of Jordan, fearlessly doubling his dark-haired sister on the handlebars of his bike. Her shrieks of laughter and look of adoration shining in her eyes as she gazed down at her big brother. He and Lucy watching them, their arms around each other’s waists in quiet contentment and pride. He blinked to awareness to find Janet grinning at him.
“Goodnight, darling.”
“Goodnight,” he echoed faintly, barely registering her wink as she strode off.
With her words playing over in his head, he scraped off plates, then rinsed and stacked the dishwasher, the images of the bright future he’d visualized dancing through his mind as he worked. He glanced at the clock. Ten o’clock. What were they doing? He attacked the counter, swiping at the smears on the granite until it shone. Straightening up the lounge took care of another few minutes.
He glanced at the clock in the kitchen again and frowned. It seemed to be broken. Surely time couldn’t be crawling past so slowly? He returned to the lounge and sank down onto the couch, not bothering to turn the light on.
Ugly thoughts started to crowd his head. What if after her date, she found she enjoyed this man’s company more than his? It was incredibly arrogant of him to assume she’d give up on a new relationship just because he decided they were right for each other after all and he crooked his finger. Maybe Janet was wrong about her daughter’s feelings, and he was too late.
An hour and a half later that felt more like a lifetime, a beam of light swept through the darkened lounge, and Sam’s heart gave a sickening lurch. He stood and wiped his palms down the front of his trousers, then approached the window, peering out from the side to see a car pull into the drive. The two occupants sat for a few minutes before the passenger door opened and Lucy stepped out, followed seconds later by her date whose gaze was glued to her behind as he trailed her to the front door.
A growl rumbled in the base of Sam’s throat, and his eyes narrowed as he watched the pair, the man bending to kiss her goodnight as if it were his right. The creak of protesting molars echoing loudly in his head prompted him to relax his jaw. He turned his back to the view even though it killed him. If he had to watch any more of the other guy pawing Lucy, he was going to go ape-shit on him.
Keys sounded in the door, and Sam waited, arms crossed over his chest. Highlighted in the headlights as it backed down the drive, Lucy’s body looked bathed in gold. Focusing in on her face, he could make out the soft smile on her beautiful mouth as she waved goodbye, and steel bands tightened around his chest, making it difficult to breathe. He hoped to God he wasn’t too late, but he knew the only one he had to blame was himself. She stepped inside and pulled the door quietly behind her.
“Had a good night?”
Lucy let out a muffled shriek and whirled around. “Jeez, Sam! Don’t scare me like that.” The keys jangled in her hand as she dropped her arms from their defensive position and strode into the room, a scowl replacing the smile she’d worn moments earlier. “What the hell are you doing here skulking around in the dark? Making sure my date isn’t a serial killer?”
Sam pushed off from the wall, the acid buzz of jealousy burning in his gut. His gaze swept over her. A shaft of moonlight silhouetted her body. She was so beautiful. Silver light radiated around her, affirming his impression of her being goddess-like.
She moved farther into the room, keeping a wary eye on him, and dropped her keys onto the hall table. Turning, she faced him fully, her arms crossed tight over her chest. She fixed him with a glare, and his gaze dropped to the flattened line of her mouth. The urge to kiss her became the all-consuming thought in his head, and as if she sensed it, her tongue darted out, wetting her bottom lip. His gaze narrowed on it as the roar of blood filled his ears. It was still slightly swollen from the other man’s kiss.
Possessiveness surged through his veins, and he stalked forward, intent on erasing the memory of the other from her head completely. Lucy’s eyes widened, and her throat moved in a swallow, but she stood her ground, her small hands clenching into fists at her side.
“Don’t.”
The uncompromising tone brought him to a halt, and his nostrils flared in a deep breath. “I don’t want you seeing that guy again.” The words slipped out rougher than he intended.
Predictably, Lucy’s eyebrows rose and her back stiffened. Her eyes flashed fire. “Oh, you don’t? Well, that’s too bad, buddy. I can see whoever the hell I want. You’ve got no say in the matter. No right to butt in.”
The words hit their mark like the blunt edge of a hammer, and he rubbed at his chest. She was right, but that didn’t mean he had to like it.
Fury had pushed her to stand toe-to-toe with him, her chest almost brushing his. His gaze dropped from her blazing eyes to her mouth, lips pressed together in a hard line, and all the good intentions of leaving her alone fled. He took advantage of their proximity and brushed a gentle thumb over her bottom lip.
Her mouth parted in a gasp, and she gripped his wrist, tugging unsuccessfully. “What do you think you’re doing?”
What was obviously meant to be an indignant tone was ruined by the husky quality to her voice and the darkening of her pupils. Hope flared in Sam’s chest. “Giving you something to think about.”
Her hand dropped from his wrist, and she took a step back, eyes fixed on him like a wary animal. In one step, he closed the distance and grinned when she took another stuttering step backward and then another. He followed until her back hit the wall. Trapped, she glared up at him, but it wasn’t enough to cover the flare of excitement sparking in her eyes.
Heat emanated from her, and his nostrils flared as a wave of perfume reached him. He lowered his head to the delicate curve of her shoulder and neck, inhaling her scent deep into his lungs the way he’d wanted to earlier, closing his eyes to better imprint it on his memory. “God, Luce, you smell incredible.”
Unable to help himself, he caressed the silky skin with soft kisses. Her skin shivered under his lips. Encouraged, he nibbled his way up her neck, then took the lobe of her ear between his teeth, his hands pulling her hips flush against his to ease the ache that hadn’t quite gone away since the day she’d left his bed.
“Sam.”
His name was a breathy moan, and his mouth swallowed the sound, hands framing her face. Her hips rocked against his, almost making his heart explode, and he nudged her
legs apart to get closer, but it would never be close enough. She gyrated again, causing a low sound to rasp from his throat, and his arousal threatened to burst through the seam of his pants.
“Not enough.” The growl was barely distinguishable as human.
He lifted a hand, burying his fingers in the soft silk of her hair, and cradled the back of her skull before his lower body pushed her hard against the wall, every animal instinct in him roaring to take her, bury himself deep. He was beyond thinking. If he was able, he’d worry about being so rough, worry he’d remind her about something ugly. He’d always taken care to be gentle with her. But her arms wrapped tight around his neck, and she pushed back, her breasts flattening against his chest as if she too couldn’t get close enough.
What had started off as a way to show her why she shouldn’t be dating the other guy had quickly progressed to the point of the danger of taking her right here on the floor or up against the wall. With a groan, he broke off, his hands braced on her hips, holding her at bay when she tried to draw him back.
“No, Luce. God knows, stopping is killing me, but this is your mother’s house.”
Bee-stung lips, wet and cherry red, hung open as she stared up at him. Heavy-lidded eyes blinked a couple of times. The dreamy half focus of her gaze sharpened and hardened, and her mouth closed with a snap. With deliberate movements, she drew her cardigan around herself and crossed her arms over her chest.
“Just what are you playing at, Sam? It was only a couple weeks ago you basically told me lessons were over and I needed to move on with the rest of my life.” She straightened her spine and lifted her chin, her eyes glittering suspiciously, making his chest tighten. “Well, I’m moving on, or at least, trying to, just like you obviously have. What just happened—” Her hand chopped viciously between them. “You can’t keep doing that. It doesn’t help and it’s got to stop.” Her lower lip trembled until she bit it, then turned for the stairs. “Please stay away from me.”
The glimpse of pain in those beautiful eyes cut him like a knife. God, he was such an asshole. He had to make it right, tell her the truth. Stop being such an emotional cripple. He captured her hand before she could escape any farther up the stairs. “I can’t do that. I can’t let you go.”
She wrenched her hand back and glared down at him. “Well, you’re going to have to. I’m tired and have had enough of this endless circling that goes nowhere. Goodnight, Sam. Go back to your blonde.” She turned her back and started up the steps, her back ramrod straight, her movements jerky.
“We’re not done here, Luce.”
She paused on the landing and spared him a glance over her shoulder, her posture regal, her eyes the saddest he’d ever seen. “Yes, Sam. We really are.”
He watched until she disappeared down the hall, confusion reigning supreme. Blonde? What was she talking about? Her bedroom door closing with a bang sounded too final. No. He’d be damned if he was going to let it end there. Not before he prostrated himself in front of her. Put everything on the line. Offered everything he was to her. It was past time. Taking the steps two at a time, he followed in her wake.
Chapter Eleven
Lucy strode into her room and kicked off her heels. They thumped against the wall with a satisfying thud. Who the hell did he think he was? How dare he toy with her emotions this way? He didn’t even respond to her taunt about his blonde. Was he like that with all the women he took to bed? Careless with their feelings? It was so hard to reconcile with the Sam she knew. What game was he playing?
The anger felt good. If only she could stay focused on the anger, maybe the simmering pain tethered just under the surface wouldn’t cut loose like she feared and destroy her.
I can’t let you go.
His words accompanied by the memory of his burning gaze echoed in her head, and she laughed without humor. Did he really think she’d be foolish enough to fall for such fake sincerity a second time? He’d already proven she meant nothing to him by pushing her away two weeks ago. It had sure seemed easy for him to let her go then. And then inviting the blonde into his home just a few short days later.
Anger burned in her veins. Unzipping her dress, she tore it off over her head, emerging out of the material to find her door swinging open. Sam stood frozen in the entrance, his gaze sweeping over her lingerie-clad body hot enough to incinerate anything in its path.
“Sorry. I should have knocked.” He dropped his gaze as a flush crept over his cheekbones, his nostrils flaring.
Taking perverse pleasure in his discomfit, Lucy sauntered to her wardrobe and riffled through the contents. “Don’t worry about it. It’s not like you haven’t seen everything already anyway.” Feeling the heat of his gaze, she glanced over her shoulder to see his eyes zeroed in on her bottom. She turned around with her toweling robe in her hands, and his eyes shot to her face. Shrugging it on, she tied the belt and sank down onto the edge of the bed, suddenly tired. “What exactly do you want now, Sam? I thought I told you we were done.”
He sighed and shut the door with a soft click, then approached the bed, his eyes dark and unreadable. The mattress dipped under his weight, making her roll toward him, and she tensed her stomach muscles to keep her distance. She was so over falling at his feet.
“First, let me apologize. I’ve demanded truth from you but haven’t been honest myself.”
She frowned. This discussion wasn’t taking the path she’d expected it to.
“The truth is I should never have agreed to be a part of your scheme. All it’s done is muddy the waters of our relationship as I’d feared.”
Lucy crushed the duvet cover in her balled-up fists and swallowed down the bile that tried to rise in her throat. This was worse than his brush-off. The kindness he was showing—the taking of the blame. She couldn’t bear it.
His hand clamped down onto her thigh as she tried to rise from the bed, keeping her in place. “No—stay. It’s important you hear my reasoning. I need you to understand so we can move on from here.”
It wasn’t until she nodded that his shoulders relaxed, and he continued. She didn’t think he was aware his palm still rested on her thigh, his thumb making circling strokes on the bare skin that had revealed itself where the robe parted. For her, it was almost all she could concentrate on.
“I’ve always cared for you, Lucy. From the very first day Jordan brought me home.” He stopped and smiled widely. “You were such a pain in the ass, following us around everywhere. It didn’t matter how much he bitched and moaned—you hung around. Nothing deterred you when you had your mind set on something.”
Lucy buried her face in her hands and groaned. “I thought we were talking about you.”
Sam’s fingers circled her wrists and gently pulled her hands away, an affectionate smile stretching his mouth. The action had brought him closer until his hip pressed intimately against hers. Jagged bolts of heat and yearning shot from the place they touched to spread through her entire system. He was like a drug. She couldn’t get enough of him, and she wanted to scream. It just wasn’t fair.
“The point is, I’ve always cared for you, even then. You’re important to me. Always have been and always will be. But making love to you changed those feelings forever.” He paused, his eyes burning into hers, a sheen to them that tugged at her heart. “You know it too, don’t you, Luce.”
Lucy’s stomach dropped. Here it came. The moment her world changed forever. The moment her dreams died. She wanted to slap her hands over his mouth, to stop the words from coming out, but he was right in one thing. If they had any chance of finding some form of friendship again, they needed to be honest with each other from now on and build on what was left. It was this thought that stilled her hands.
Her nails bit into her palms, and she focused on the small pain, hoping the larger one, when it came, wouldn’t hurt as much. “I’m sorry, Sam. Sorrier than you can imagine that I dragged you into this. Can’t we forget it ever happened?”
“Let me finish, brat.” He cupped
her jaw, his long fingers stroking lightly over her skin. “I don’t want you sorry, and I certainly don’t want anything forgotten.”
She met his gaze, the tight knot in her stomach unraveling a little under the warmth in his eyes, and hope flared back to life.
“I was thrilled to finally have a legitimate reason to take you to bed. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Couldn’t believe my luck. Didn’t you notice how quickly I jumped at the chance?”
She shrugged, trying to play it cool even as she felt heat creep over her skin. “I just thought it was a typical male response. What single, red-blooded man in his right mind doesn’t jump at the chance to have sex with a willing woman?”
He feigned indignation. “I’m offended. I thought you thought of me as more than a typical male.”
She snorted, then dropped her gaze, her fingers plucking at and then smoothing the robe covering her lap. He didn’t know the half of it. Her mouth tightened before she lifted her gaze back to his, her gut tensing for the blow that was sure to come. She needed to hurry this along before the tears banking up behind her eyes escaped. “So then how exactly did having sex with me change your feelings?”
The laughter slowly died from his gaze as they stared at each other, and his hands dropped from her jaw to rest in his lap. “It wasn’t sex, Lucy.” He took a deep breath. And then another, letting it out on a slow exhale. Just when it seemed he wasn’t going to answer, he squared his shoulders. “From the moment I touched you, it was clear I wasn’t going to just have sex with you. I would make love to you, in every way possible to show you with my body what I couldn’t say in words. What I was too scared to say. But I refuse to let fear guard my words any longer. I love you too much.”
Lucy stopped breathing. Every hair on her body stood to attention. Her eyes widened on the man before her. Was he teasing her? She shook her head. Sam would never be so cruel. Perhaps she was dreaming. Yeah. Dreaming. That’s what was happening. There was no way Samuel Merrick had just told her he loved her.
Home to Me Page 17
