Cold Nose, Warm Heart

by Mara Wells

  “You don’t need help standing out.” Caleb cupped one breast in his hand and framed her face with the other, catching her gaze and holding her hostage with the heat she saw there. “God, Riley, you’re beautiful.” And then he was kissing her again, his words rolling around in her head until she felt beautiful, too, and that made her bolder. She pushed into his hands, showing him how much pressure she liked, and he got it. He got it really good. Her head dropped back, and she closed her eyes. No more direction needed, which was a good thing because her brain was out of ideas. Except one.

  She tugged at the waist of his khakis, and he growled, “Yes,” while she unbuttoned him. The rest of their clothes found their way to the floor, and she could feel him everywhere, the delicious heat of his skin on hers, the glide of his hands over her body. She kept her hands busy, too, tracing the ridge of muscle in his chest, fluttering down to dip a fingertip into his belly button, a move that made him smile. She smiled back while they explored each other with gentle strokes that gradually grew more urgent, more demanding. His fingers traced her entrance, testing, teasing. She arched into his touch, gasping as the tension grew tighter and her legs quivered.

  When he entered her, she was more than ready and cried out from the sheer pleasure of how right it felt. She sought his gaze and found him already watching her. Stroke by building stroke, he took them both over the edge, and when he fell, she fell with him.

  Clutching his back, her legs wrapped around his thighs, she kept her eyes open, not wanting to miss the expression on his face. He touched his forehead to hers, panting breaths that brushed her cheeks and matched her own labored breathing. “You,” he said and stopped, arms half propping him up, half collapsing under his own weight.

  “You.” She smiled and pulled him all the way on top of her.

  He buried his nose in her hair. “Too heavy?”

  “Not yet.” She wrapped herself around him and stroked his back until his breathing evened out and he fell asleep. She didn’t join him, just listened to the thump of his heart against hers, counting each beat like a prayer.

  * * *

  The doorbell startled Riley out of her languid daydreaming, something about cool sheets and warm hands and the sound of her name on Caleb’s lips. He snored softly beside her, but she still wasn’t sleepy. Just very, very happy. Amazing what really good orgasms could do for a girl’s mood. She slipped out from under the weight of Caleb’s arm and walked barefoot to the front door.

  “LouLou!” Riley scooped up her poodle and rubbed noses with her. LouLou licked her cheeks with slobbery enthusiasm.

  “Good morning to you, too.” Eliza strode in, Lady on her heels. “How’s Gloria?”

  “They kept her overnight for observation.” Riley set her dog down. LouLou promptly went to her food bowl to check for kibble. “I’m going to check on her soon, right after I clean up her place. Hopefully, they’ll send her home today. How was my LouLou? Was she a good guest?”

  “An angel.” Eliza sat on one of two stools by the breakfast bar. “An angel who chewed through one of my throw pillows, but an angel nonetheless.”

  “She didn’t! It’s been months since she’s shredded a pillow. Of course, I’ll buy you a new one.” Riley offered Eliza a selection of Keurig flavors to choose from. Eliza pointed to the French vanilla, and Riley popped it in the coffee maker, lining up a hazelnut for herself.

  “Pfft, who cares about a pillow? It’s a small sacrifice considering Gloria’s in the hospital. Do they know why she fell?”

  So Riley filled her in, and soon they were both sipping their hot brews while the dogs lounged on the couch. She ended with “I can never thank you enough for taking care of LouLou last night. You’re the absolute best.”

  Eliza preened at the praise, smoothing her short hair behind an ear. “I do try. Honestly, it was no trouble—unless you’re a tasseled throw pillow—and I can watch her again today if you need to go to the hospital.”

  Riley’s tears surprised her. Dry-eyed one minute, she was crying the next. She’d been on the go for so long, always on call, always with her to-do list and budget constraints. She hadn’t realized how much of a one-way street she’d been living on, always giving and never letting anyone in. That a kind word or action could reduce her to tears? Well, she blamed that on the orgasms, too. She was raw this morning, an exposed emotional nerve, exposed and apparently weeping.

  Eliza leapt from her seat and came around the corner to hug her. “Honey, it’ll be okay. Your Grams is a fighter. And so are we! I hurried over this morning because I heard from my friend at the Historical Preservation Society. Things are looking good. Very good. She says the Dorothy should sail through the approval process and be on the national registry of protected buildings in no time.”

  Riley hugged Eliza back extra hard. “That’s wonderful news! I can’t wait to tell Grams.”

  “What’d I miss?” Caleb leaned against the arch between the main living area and the hallway that led to the bedrooms. He was dressed in his usual khakis and polo, so usual they were the same ones he’d worn yesterday. They were a bit rumpled from doubling as pajamas and then their time spent on the floor, as was his hair. All in all, Caleb Donovan looked pretty darn good to Riley, rumpled and with the stubble he’d tickled her with still dotting his face. She sighed at the memory, tingling in places she didn’t want to tingle with Eliza standing close.

  Eliza looked from Caleb to Riley. “It’s like that now, is it? Well, Sydney will be happy. She’s been rooting for you two all along, and her money was on you getting together before the end of October, which puts me out a fiver. Patty’s still in the game, though. She bet on a wedding before Christmas.”

  “A wedding?” Riley covered her face with one hand. Could this conversation get more embarrassing? “You bet on us? I can’t believe you.”

  “What’d you bet?” Caleb sauntered into the kitchen and raised his eyes at the K-Cup collection and maybe the whole idea of nosy neighbors and wedding bets. Who knew what was running through his mind? He had his amiable businessman face on. He wasn’t a raw nerve, twanging with every shift of emotional wind in the room. Maybe he had mind-blowing sex all the time. Maybe this morning was business as usual for him. Riley found herself tearing up again. God, it was worse than puberty, this business of opening up her heart again.

  Wait, was that what she was doing? Opening her heart to him? A Donovan? The man who fired her? He stood next to her, his hand to the small of her back, thumb tracing small circles on the skin between the soft fabric of her shirt and waist of her jean shorts. Goose bumps rose on her arms. Yeah, that was definitely what she was doing. Stupid or not—and she suspected stupid indeed—she had to admit Caleb Donovan was working his way into her heart, one body-melting touch at a time.

  “Help yourself.” Riley gestured at the array of coffees. She did pride herself on always having at least a dozen choices on hand. He chose a dark roast and rolled it in his hands before popping it in the Keurig. She flushed, watching those hands, remembering where they’d been a few short hours ago. Focus, Riley. “Yeah, Eliza, what did you bet on? Lust on Labor Day? Reckless during Rosh Hashanah? Homicide by Halloween?”

  Eliza laughed so hard, coffee spilled out of her mug. “Nothing that dramatic. Humped and dumped, to be honest. No offense, Caleb. You don’t make the greatest first impression.”

  “Something of a cynic, aren’t you?” Caleb sipped his dark roast from a mug that said World’s Best Granddaughter.

  “Me?” Eliza chuckled. “Have you met yourself? Can’t believe how long it takes young people these days to get around to admitting their feelings.”

  Since no feelings had been discussed this morning, Riley ducked her head, her hair shielding her flaming cheeks. Maybe they hadn’t discussed any feelings, but she’d sure felt the feelings. All the feelings. She sneaked a side peek at Caleb. Had he felt them, too?

  He kno
cked back his coffee in a few gulps. “Why don’t we head back to the hospital? I’m sure you’re worried about Grams.”

  “Sure, give me a few minutes to clean up her place first. Don’t want the bloodstains retraumatizing her.” How could she be worrying about what Caleb did or didn’t feel when Grams was still in the hospital? Out-of-whack hormones were no joke, a lesson she’d learned during puberty but had apparently forgotten lately.

  “Eliza, would you mind sticking around for LouLou? I’ll text when I know what’s going on.”

  Eliza saluted her. “Dog sitter on duty.”

  Riley kissed her cheek. “I appreciate you.”

  “I know you do.” Eliza pulled her into a hug. “Remember you’ve got people, Riley. People who love you.”

  Stupid hormones and orgasms and raw emotional nerves. She sniffed back more tears. “I love you, too.”

  Chapter 26

  He was jealous of an old woman. And a dog. After declaring her love to Eliza, Riley’d kissed her poodle’s head, saying, “I love you. Be home soon,” before gathering up cleaning supplies to take to Grams’ place. What would it be like to hear those words from Riley? He pushed the longing away. There was no point in it.

  As blessed as Donovans were at real estate deals, they were equally cursed when it came to love. Look at Grandpa William, a string of marriages and mistresses, and his own father on wife number four. Lance, who’d been so happy at his wedding that he’d said “I do” too early during the ceremony, causing the whole audience to laugh at his eagerness, was already divorced. Caleb’s own disastrous marriage was the evidence that cinched his case.

  He’d suspected that Lisa was as attracted to his family’s wealth as she was to him, but her immediate filing for divorce as soon as his assets were frozen had proven him wrong. She’d loved the wealth more than she loved him. What more could he expect, though? Donovans were workaholics and womanizers. Hadn’t he heard that line enough times from Grandpa William growing up? Like it or not, it was part of who he was, and when Riley realized it, she’d leave, too.

  She hadn’t realized it yet. She kept her eyes on the road, driving them back to the hospital, one hand on the wheel, one clutched in his, both pink from all the scrubbing she’d done at Grams’ place. He’d offered to hire someone to come clean, but she’d refused, saying Grams liked things a certain way and it was easier for her to do it than to explain how to someone else. That was how she was, he’d learned. Generous and genuine, willing to do anything for those she loved, no matter the inconvenience. He’d like to be loved like that someday. The longing he’d forced away came back, nearly choking him with its strength. He didn’t want some day. He wanted today. With Riley.

  Was he holding her hand too tightly? She didn’t seem to mind. He loosened his grip, just in case she needed some circulation in her fingers. He shouldn’t be selfish, thinking of what he wanted from Riley at a time like this. She was worried about her Grams, certainly not thinking about this morning or what it might mean for them. He needed to give her space, yet he couldn’t force himself to let go of her hand. A few minutes longer, he promised himself, and then he’d let her do her thing.

  At the hospital, they were lucky to find a parking spot on the same level as his Porsche. The image of her walking solo into the hospital saddened him. Of course she could handle it on her own, but why should she have to? “Do you want me to come with you?”

  She brought his knuckles to her lips and kissed them. “Thank you, but I’m not sure Grams is ready for this.”

  He nodded like he understood what she meant by this. Him? Them? Were they a thing now? God knows, he didn’t want to let her hand go, let her walk away from him, even if it was to take care of her Grams. “Sure. I’ll see you later?”

  She leaned across the console, her lips touching his in a brief kiss that wasn’t nearly enough. He caught the back of her head and brought her back for a longer, deeper kiss. One that made him wish she had a bigger back seat and that they weren’t in a crowded parking garage and that they could take a break from life for the day. Or week. Or month.

  Riley pulled away first. “I really need to check on her.”

  He nodded, nibbling at her lips one last time. “I’ll call you later? I have an appointment with the architect early tomorrow at the Dorothy. Do you want to meet him?”

  Riley’s eyes shuttered. He’d said the wrong thing. He tried to make it right. “I’d love your opinions.”

  She squeezed her eyes closed, then opened them, blinking rapidly. “Sure, call me.”

  “I will.”

  Riley slipped out of the car, and he watched her walk away, wondering why the last few minutes had felt so wrong. Was it that he wanted to be with her? What if she got bad news about her grandmother? What if she needed to lean on his shoulder? He shook his head at the foolishness. Riley didn’t need anyone, especially not him. He shouldn’t make this morning more than it was. Still, he pulled up his calendar, double-checking the time for the meeting with the architect. He was eager to show her what they’d come up with. A business meeting, yeah, that was what he was looking forward to. Just business.

  * * *

  “It’s good to be home. Never thought I’d be so happy to be in my own bed again, but I slept like a baby last night.” Grams let out a drafty sigh and settled herself into her favorite corner of the couch. Riley helped her tuck a soft blanket over her lap. The Prince immediately jumped up and made himself at home, kneading her thighs with his front paws.

  “Someone’s glad you’re up and about today.” Riley gave the Prince an affectionate scratch behind the ear, thinking about how her own night had been long and restless. After only one night with Caleb, sleeping alone had felt wrong—her bed too wide, her pillows not as comfortable as his chest.

  “Slept next to me all night.” Grams stroked him from head to tail, and he purred his contentment. “Snug as a bug in a rug, weren’t you, my Prince?”

  “I’m glad you’re feeling yourself again.” Riley sat close to Grams, bumping their knees together. LouLou’d slept close to her last night, too, but it wasn’t the same. Maybe she needed a cat. Or maybe she just needed Caleb. “You gave me quite a scare.”

  “You and me both, darlin’. I hardly remember what happened, but the pain when my head hit the tile? Ouch! That I’ll never forget.” Grams reached out and patted Riley’s leg. “You took good care of me, and I’m grateful. But please don’t think you have to hang around all day like I’m an invalid. I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”

  “That’s good to hear.” Riley leaned over to kiss Grams’ cheek, surprised that Grams was hustling her out the door. “I do have a few things to do for the Dorothy today, and LouLou could use a good run at the park. Please call me if you need something, okay?”

  “You know, they nearly starved me at that hospital, waiting hours and hours for a cold bowl of oatmeal. Then last night, I simply didn’t feel up to cooking, so I drank one of my Ensure shakes. Won’t you make me a bite to eat, Riley, before you go?”

  “Of course.” Riley should’ve known the independence speech was all for show. She checked the time on her phone. Fifteen minutes ago, Caleb had texted, inviting her to one of the empty units to look at plans with the architect. Fifteen minutes ago, she’d thought she was minutes away from getting Grams settled in the living room, resting, and could step out for a little bit. Sorry, she texted now. Don’t think I can leave anytime soon.

  First, she’d make Grams a snack, then Grams would want something to drink. Then another blanket. Then help moving to the bedroom. Then the light would be too bright, then not bright enough. For the most part, Grams was an independent woman, but when the opportunity arose to play the invalid, she took shameless advantage. Riley still remembered Grams’ bout with bronchitis a few years back. She’d started sleeping on Grams’ couch. It was easier that way.

  We’ll come to yo
u! Caleb’s text was followed with a smiley emoji.

  She looked at the text. She looked at Grams. Oil and water.

  Ok, she texted back because the truth was, she missed him. Missed having him near, his hand on her lower back, his quick smile at her touch. She was falling fast; she recognized the signs. Would Grams? She’d keep it all business, a property manager consulting with an owner on proposed improvements. Grams would appreciate getting the inside scoop on the architectural plans anyway. Give her something to talk about at the next bunco night.

  “Who could that be?” Grams asked when her doorbell rang, sitting straighter and pulling a crocheted blanket over her lap. The Prince immediately stood and headbutted her belly. “Tell whoever it is I’m too tired for company. I want to rest up after all that hospital put me through. A substance-abuse counselor, can you imagine? At my age! I’m sure I know when I’ve had enough to drink and don’t need someone younger than my own granddaughter suggesting otherwise.”

  “You did insist your fall was wine-related.” Riley took her time getting to the door. Grams would not be happy that she’d invited Caleb—much less some strange architect—when she was looking less than her best. On the other hand, it was a chance for her to see Caleb’s plans, including the dog park they’d been working on, and there was some part of Riley that wanted Grams to like Caleb. This could be a start. “The hospital is probably obligated to counsel anyone with substance-related injuries. I’m sure it was simply a formality.”

  “Trying to take away my chardonnay? I should turn them in for elder abuse.” Grams harrumphed and petted the Prince under his ear in that spot that made him drool a little. Riley crossed the living room to peek out the peephole. She couldn’t stop the smile that spread across her face at the sight, distorted as it was, of Caleb in a blue polo that matched his eyes. Goodness, the man was so handsome, her heart actually stuttered. Ba-ba-bum.

  “In fact,” Grams was saying, “why don’t we offer our guests a glass? And you can pour me one too while you’re at it.”