Dizzy, she swayed closer. He reached behind her, found the zipper. Slowly he tugged downward, his attention locked on her face, gauging her every reaction as the fabric slid apart. Air shivered across her skin. With drowsy regard she watched him drop to one knee. He shimmied the fabric past her waist and hips, his pupils dilating and his breathing raspy. The gown fell in a puddle at her feet.
Desire flushed the sharp angles of his cheekbones. “You’re beautiful.” Rising, he peeled off his shirt, stepped out of his pants.
“You’re not disappointed?” A humiliating query, one she couldn’t stop from issuing.
“Linnie, most men have an ideal of the perfect woman.” He rubbed his nose across hers. “You’ve always been mine.”
She laughed against the tears catching on her lashes. “You’re crazy.”
“For you? Always.”
Driving home the point, he placed a trail of kisses across her collarbone. She arched willingly, grateful for the love he offered without reservation, savoring the sensation of his rough hands on her skin, unclasping her bra and letting it drop to the floor. He dispatched with her panties as quickly. Her knees weakened beneath the onslaught of his lovemaking, the strokes heating every inch of her skin, his husky, barely discernible voice carrying through her ears with praise and the devotion of a man who’d loved her for more than a decade.
Scooping her into his arms, he strode to the bed. He settled on top of her. They grew quiet as their bodies merged together, muscle and bone. A profound contentment filled Linnie. Gently she traced the lines carved beside his mouth and the faint crow’s-feet framing his eyes.
His mouth dipped to hers. His lips tasted of fire.
Sinking beneath the sensation, she clung to his neck, needing more, needing all the love he’d waited to give.
Chapter 19
On his shoulder, Linnie dozed.
Chasing shadows across the ceiling, Daniel snuggled her close. A deep stillness enveloped the Wayfair.
A full night of lovemaking would test any man’s endurance, but his muscles sparked with energy. As did his mind, leaping through the last hours, replaying the memory of each minute. Linnie had given herself over. She’d given herself completely. Joy rolled through him in exuberant waves.
Beneath his arm, she stirred. “You’re awake?” She eyed him with drowsy amusement. “After taking me to the moon and back three times, I assumed you’d sleep until noon.”
“Baby, the rocket ship is ready for another trip anytime you’d like to jump on board.”
Grinning, she struggled up onto an elbow. “Haven’t you slept?”
“Too excited.”
“What are you thinking about?”
“The past, the future. Mostly the future.”
“Hmm. That sounds nice.” Beside his calf, her toes wiggled. “What time is it?”
“Probably around four.” Possessively he slid her thigh over his legs. She’d slept curled into his side in a habit he hoped would become permanent. “Why don’t you catch some more shut-eye? I’ll wake you before I leave.”
“Daniel?”
She left his name hanging in the cool air. Her fingers wove a lazy trail through his chest hair.
“Yeah?”
“I was also thinking.”
“While you were sleeping? That’s a neat trick.”
“I have many talents.” She rubbed her chin across his chest, back and forth, her eyes following the moonlight shivering across the floor. “I’ll never own the inn, will I?”
A trick question, and he weighed his reply. “Without a court battle?”
“There won’t be a court battle. I’m not fighting my parents.”
She’d experienced enough upsets. After their night together, he preferred steering her to more positive topics. But in good conscience, he couldn’t lie.
And so he said, “Then your brother will take over someday.”
The confirmation released a sigh from her lips. Gently he stroked her hair, wishing for the power to take on a portion of her disappointment.
It was a relief when she rallied with a smile. “He’ll buy me out when he does. It’s something, right?”
Resignation inked the comment. “Is that enough?” Needing to protect her, he steered her cheek to his chest.
“I thought so.” Her breath scattered across his skin. “Now I’m not sure.”
“I meant what I said. Whatever you decide is fine with me. I’m always in your corner.”
“I know you are—and I really appreciate it.” She ducked out from beneath his arm, her expression serious. “What do you think about the buildings on the other side of the circle?”
Another trick question, but he liked this one better. “They’ve been on the market for years. Any one of those buildings would sell for a song. I like the brick with the arched windows, the one that housed the savings and loan. Three stories—lots of room.”
“The dark-red brick? Also my favorite. Sure would be nice if someone opened a business in there.”
“Have someone in mind?” he asked. He wasn’t sure where this was going, but there was no harm in tagging along.
“Me? If I get a business off the ground, maybe I can bring in Jada and Cat later on.”
“Sounds like you have a plan.”
She laughed, extinguishing the pain in her eyes for the briefest interlude. “Nothing comes to mind,” she admitted, and he understood the tentative nature of the conversation, the difficulty of letting go. “I have the hospitality business mastered, but Sweet Lake can’t support another lodging. I’m really not sure what I’ll do.”
“There are dozens of businesses worth investigating. You’re smart women. Do the research.” She bit at her lower lip, hastening him to add, “There’s no hurry. Stay at the inn, don’t stay—do whatever makes you the most comfortable. I’m in your corner.”
“If you were in my shoes, would you walk away?”
He followed the shadows drifting across the ceiling. “I’m not you,” he pointed out. “If my parents left a business to me and Philip, and I knew my brother would take control . . .”
“What?” she prodded.
“I doubt I’d enter into the partnership in the first place.”
“At the party, Frances said I need to learn to put myself first. Something about self-love and the spiritual plane. I didn’t get all the mumbo jumbo. That was the gist.”
“She doled out different advice to me. How to help you reach orgasm, that sort of thing. She called it ‘organism,’ but I caught the drift.”
“She did not!”
He chuckled. “Maybe it was the martinis talking. She’d had a few.”
A secret lingered in the mischievous curve of Linnie’s mouth, one she suddenly revealed. “I wonder if we’re on the Sirens’ agenda. You know, how they play matchmaker with people in town.”
He’d take all the help available to win Linnie forever, but he wisely hid the opinion. “What gives you that impression?” he asked, feigning casual interest.
“Right before we served dinner in the ballroom, Penelope pulled me into a corner. She looked so serious. You know how earnest she is.”
He’d always liked Penelope’s bashful sincerity. “What did she say?”
“She informed me that she’d always thought I’d make the prettiest babies with you.” Linnie rarely giggled, but she did so now. “That’s exactly how she said it, ‘make babies,’ like all we need is a cup of flour and a dash of sugar to whip up beautiful children.”
Mirth vibrated through Daniel’s chest. “Hey, she knows what she’s talking about. Last spring I was in the circle having lunch and overheard Penelope and the other Sirens discussing their success with love among the ancients.”
“I’m guessing you’re not referring to pyramids and ancient civilizations.”
“You’re close. Ralph Euchanhofer and Kelly O’Neill.”
“Over at the retirement home? Ralph’s closing in on ninety, and Kelly’s older.”
> “Yeah, and it gets better. Ralph’s sons were in my office last week. They wanted to know if his will changes once he marries Kelly.” Daniel hesitated. “You’d think they’d be happy for the old geezer. Been decades since he lost his wife.”
“The Sirens played matchmaker?” He nodded, and a warning flashed across her features. “Well, that’s as far as they go. Pretty babies or not, I’ll wait for a sit-down about having a family.”
“Hey, don’t wait on my account,” he joked. “I like kids. When they reach the nasty teenage years, we’ll ship them off to their grandparents.”
“I’m all for the great sex, Daniel. No way are we discussing kids right away—or marriage.”
“I get it, Linnie. You’re not ready.” Relaxing, she twined her fingers through his chest hair, and a feeling much like triumph coasted through him. Riding it, he added, “Let me know when you are.”
“Okay,” she murmured, and the emotion increased.
Pressing a kiss to her forehead, he changed track. “Are you really considering a new career?”
“If I do, I’m sure I’ll have second thoughts. My parents won’t approve, and Freddie will have to hire a manager. Even if I bow out, he won’t leave California anytime soon.”
“And if you stay?”
She huffed out a breath. “Same thing. Lose-lose situation. What if I start to hate myself for pouring my efforts into an enterprise I’ll never own? I’ll wonder about the opportunity costs, the career possibilities I passed up, the chance of owning something for real.”
“Seems like you’ve come to a decision.”
She stirred against his chest. “Maybe I have.”
“Then here’s a suggestion. Look into several business possibilities. After you’ve settled on one or two that make sense, it’ll be easier to—”
“Daniel!” She launched upright.
He lurched up beside her. “What?”
She pointed to the clock. “It’s four thirty. While I’m thrilled you spent the night, aren’t you forgetting someone?”
The sheet rustled to her waist, leaving the top half of her luscious body exposed. For precisely ten seconds, Daniel let his inner caveman admire her second-finest attribute—her hazel eyes coming in first.
Then the practical side of his brain clicked on.
Puddles.
The beast hadn’t been let out since dinnertime.
“You bail me out constantly,” Philip said, dropping into a chair at the kitchen table. “I don’t mind helping you. Where were you anyway? Why didn’t you text for a rescue?”
Daniel tossed the rag back into the pail of sudsy water. “I had other things on my mind.”
In the backyard, Puddles’s barking punctuated Fancy’s singsong laughter. The kitchen floor was again spotless and the house back in order, although Daniel needed to add cereal to the grocery list. For reasons unknown, when Puddles butted open the door to the pantry, three boxes of cereal had met their maker. The dog had finished them all.
Philip slung his feet onto a chair. “Other things . . . mind giving the details? No, let me guess. You went joyriding after the fight with Linnie, got a ticket, and spent the night in the pokey.”
“Forget the landscape gig, little brother. You’re on your way to a career as a detective.”
“Okay, so you didn’t spend the night in jail. Then answer this. Why did you carry Linnie out of the ballroom? Bro, your move was all people were talking about. The Sirens were placing bets.”
He went to the sink, washed his hands. “Placing bets on what?”
“Whether or not last night was an aberration, or if you and Linnie have been dating on the sly. Are you?”
“We are now.”
Philip took this in, his mouth curving wryly. “I feel clueless. I never suspected you liked her. Thought you were both happy with the buddy routine.”
“I more than like her.” He reached for a towel. “And you are clueless.”
“Then elaborate.”
The coffee finished brewing. Desperate for the stimulant, Daniel filled a mug. After calming down his forgotten dog, he’d grabbed two hours of sleep on the couch. It was nearing ten o’clock, but a morning nap wasn’t in the cards. The plant stock for one of Philip’s jobs had come in early. He needed a babysitter while he went in to Unity Design.
Daniel said, “I’m planning to ask Linnie to move in.”
“Here?”
“No, into Mick Petersen’s garage down the street. Mick’s given up on adding a chicken coop to the garage, so there’s plenty of room.” He placed a mug of coffee before his brother. “Yes, here.”
“Linnie. Moving in.” Philip looked like he’d been hit by a stray ball. “Think she’ll go for it?”
“She’ll draw up a long list of pros and cons, and bite her nails down to the quick. But yeah, I think she’ll make the leap.”
“I’m sure you can persuade her.”
The vote of confidence, mixing with his elation, compelled Daniel to say, “I’ll give you the wedding date once my persuasive charms wear her down.” From over the rim of his mug, he assessed his dazed brother. “Close your mouth, Philip. You look like you’re catching flies.”
“You’re getting married?”
“Not today. Soon, I hope.”
The chair groaned as his brother got to his feet. “Talk about moving fast. Sure about this?”
If not for his brother’s concern, the question would seem comical. Getting Linnie over the first hurdle—admitting they were in a relationship—was the hard part. Last night’s intimacy proved they were moving in the right direction.
“Am I sure about spending my life with her? Absolutely. She’s perfect, at least from where I’m standing. Besides, I don’t want to stare down my forties as a bachelor, coming home each night to a lonely dog and an empty house. What’s the point of building a life without someone to share it with?”
“She’ll want kids.” Philip glanced out the window at his daughter and Puddles tearing across the grass. “I’ve lost count of the times she’s mentioned how lucky I am to have Fancy. You’ll make great parents.”
A compliment, but Daniel noticed Philip’s shoulders sagging. “Do you ever think . . .” The pain in his brother’s eyes stopped him from completing the thought.
“About trying again?” Philip guessed. His brow furrowed. “Sometimes.”
“It’ll happen.”
“We’ll see.”
Privately Daniel regretted the turn of conversation. “You won’t have the same outcome,” he said, picking his way carefully, praying he didn’t tread upon the landmines encircling his brother’s emotions. Considering the hell he’d been through, it was a good sign if Philip was beginning to think about trying again. “You didn’t do anything wrong. Bad stuff happens. Sometimes the bad stuff happens to the best people.”
Philip shrugged, his eyes distant.
Daniel nodded at the clock. “Don’t you have shrubs to deal with? We’ll talk when you get back.”
“Yeah, I should go.” His brother paused in the doorway, the sorrow ebbing from his features. “Man, I didn’t see this one coming. You and Linnie. Incredible.”
“I think so too.”
“She’s a great girl.” A light blinked on in the attic of his brain. “Wait a second. Did you spend the night with her?”
Daniel bounced his thumb at the door. “Go. Don’t take too long. Didn’t get much sleep—I’m running on fumes.” He took a last sip of coffee. “How long do I have Fancy?”
“Couple of hours, tops. Big delivery. I have to get the plants organized.”
Meaning Daniel needed to devise a healthy lunch for a five-year-old. PB&J with carrot sticks on the side? There wasn’t time for the grocery store.
Philip’s pickup left a plume of exhaust billowing down the street. Daniel strode into the backyard shaking his head. His niece had arrived in one of her princess costumes. The puffy pink confection was now damp with canine affection.
On the
grass, she rolled to a stop. Puddles left her side to race circles around his master.
Daniel helped her up. “How ’bout if we take the wild thing to the circle? He needs a run.”
“I do too!” Fancy slipped her small hand into his grasp.
Traffic was heavier than usual. People were taking advantage of the balmy weather for a Sunday drive, and the service had just ended at the church on Willow Avenue. Parking behind the law office, Daniel waited with growing irritation as cars streamed past. The circle needed stoplights at each end. The zoning committee still hadn’t tackled the issue.
Finally a young couple brought their Toyota to a stop. Waving in thanks, he skirted across to the circle’s green spaces with his niece firmly in his grip and his dog tugging on the leash.
Leaves skittered across the empty picnic tables. “Looks like we’ve got the place to ourselves,” he told Fancy.
On tiptoes, she patted his stomach. “Where’s the Frisbee?”
He sighed. “Sorry, kiddo.” He really was out of it. “I forgot the Frisbee at the house.”
Her eyes registered disappointment. “You never forget,” she said, and Puddles whined as if in agreement. She threw herself across the dog’s back. “It’s okay, baby. I’ll find you a toy.”
“Check under the trees,” he suggested. “Puddles will fetch a stick.”
“Okay.” Fancy skipped to the nearest tree, a maple fluttering against the sky. She rounded the trunk, returning with a branch longer than her arm.
Unclasping the dog’s leash, Daniel chuckled. “You’ll never be able to throw that. Find a smaller stick.” Puddles bolted after her.
She dashed to the next tree, and he shuffled to the nearest table. He sank down on the bench, glad to get off his feet. Early bedtime tonight. He’d call Linnie this afternoon and then call it a day. The fuel of excitement over their night together was wearing off quickly, leaving patchy dots in his vision and stiffness in his muscles. Why hadn’t he thought to bring a thermos of coffee? Yawning, he decided to give Fancy ten minutes to play before suggesting they return to the house.
Sweet Lake (Sweet Lake #1) Page 22
