Meant to Be: Southern Heat Series

by Jenna Harte

  He spoke with such vehemence. It was important to him she understood. And because she did, she stood and went to him.

  “You wouldn’t.” She put her arms around him and held him, wishing she could rid him of the pain.

  He tensed, resisting her comfort initially, but then he pulled her to him and buried his face in her neck. After a few moments, he pulled away and turned from her. “Brian reported it and I backed him up. But…”

  “They didn’t believe you?”

  “They did, eventually, but not before Brian and I were sent on a patrol.”

  Sydney’s stomach dropped.

  “I can’t say they planted the bomb, but… well, it doesn’t matter. Brian died.”

  “Mitch, I’m so sorry.” She sensed he wanted space, but she was unable to stop herself from touching him. She reached out, placing her hand on his arm.

  “I held him as he bled to death. He asked me to watch over his mom and Chelsea. I told him I would, although, I didn’t think I’d make it out alive. I was wounded. I knew I would be okay if I could get help, but there was no way I’d be able to get back to base alive. Not alone.”

  “Where were the others?”

  He shrugged. “They left.”

  Mitch never came out and said it, but Sydney understood that he and Brian were set up, not just by his sergeant, but by the others in the squad who agreed with the sergeant’s tactics.

  “How did you make it out?”

  “Another patrol came through. I was in the hospital about to be sent back to my post when a couple guys from CID showed up. It’s the army’s investigation command.”

  “Was your sergeant arrested?”

  “Yes. He and several others are serving time, but it was too late for Brian.” He turned to her. “And me.”

  Something inside him had died that day. It was just as Jenny had told her. He lost his faith in humanity and chose to keep the world at bay rather than risk betrayal or being used to hurt others. She considered asking him what sort of life Brian would want him to have. Or tell him to not let the evil doings of a few men affect his view of others, especially since there was evidence of good all around him in his family and friends. But she decided it wouldn’t matter.

  “But, hey, I got a medal.” Sarcasm dripped from his words. “So did Brian, not that it did him any good.”

  “Thank you for telling me this. I know it’s painful for you.”

  “I don’t talk about it.”

  “I know. And we don’t have to anymore. Except, I want to tell you Mitch, I…” She paused with the words poised on her tongue. “…I know you. You’re a good man.”

  He looked away, his head shaking slightly. Would their affair last long enough for her to prove to him he was good? She hugged him again, holding the embrace for some time, until his tension and grief subsided, replaced by something sensual. His hands slid under her shirt and his mouth sought hers with a desperate hunger. She wanted to tell him sex wasn’t a solution to grief, but he wasn’t in a place to hear that message either. So she kept her mouth shut, except to accept his kiss. If he needed sex to soothe his soul, she could give him that.

  This time lasted longer than the first two times, but even so, they had trouble pacing themselves. Not that she was complaining. But it seemed like they had only one speed: fast and furious. It pulled Mitch out of his melancholy, though, which she was glad for.

  He rolled and pulled her with him so they lay on their sides. He nestled her neck. “Are you hungry?”

  Where did he get the energy? “Again?”

  He grinned. “I meant for food. I’ll need it before we go another round.”

  Another round?

  “And we haven’t had supper.”

  “Oh. I said I’d cook and I didn’t get to it.”

  “You cooked.” He waggled his brows.

  She laughed, loving the funny, unguarded Mitch. But it sent conflicting messages. When he was angry and annoyed, it was easier to remind herself they had no future. This sexy, engaging Mitch was too easy to love. Apparently, with their agreement in place, he found no need to be guarded. She, on the other hand, needed an iron wall to keep her heart safe.

  “I think you’re giving me more credit than I deserve.”

  He frowned. “Three times now you’ve robbed me of my mad skills. I can’t seem to help it.”

  “I like that you can’t help it.” She waggled her brows.

  He rolled her under him and kissed her, thoroughly. Her body heated. Was round three, or would this be four, commencing?

  “I’ve got eggs or we can warm up a casserole.”

  “Do you have more of Mema’s macs and cheese?”

  His eyes narrowed, as if he was considering her request, and then he grinned. “I’d say you’ve earned Mema’s macs and cheese.”

  He rolled off and Sydney immediately missed the physical contact. He grabbed the two T-shirts he’d picked up earlier that had been discarded on the floor, tossing one to Sydney and pulling the other one on. She slipped it over her bare skin, noting the Charlotte Tavern Police Department emblem on the front. While he pulled on a pair of sweatpants, she got up, intending to search for her panties. Just as she got to the bedroom door, he stopped her, pressing her against the doorjamb.

  “You look good in my shirt, Doc.”

  It was the first time he’d used the nickname since college. She’d called him counselor. It didn’t seem right to do it now, since he’d gone into law enforcement instead of law.

  “Are you going to frisk me, officer?”

  “It’s detective.” He grinned, his hand sliding under the shirt that came mid-thigh on her. “Let’s eat so the frisking can begin again.”

  She followed him up the hall. He went to the kitchen, while she went in search of her panties. They lay by the front door, where all her clothes were strewn about, except for her bra, which hung on the ceiling fan, where it landed when Mitch tossed it over his shoulder.

  She grinned. This was why it paid to live to the fullest. The old Sydney would be horrified to see her delicates on the ceiling fan.

  “You okay?”

  Mitch stood in the doorway of the kitchen. His gaze followed hers upward. Then he laughed, a deep laugh that had her looking at him, wanting to see the unguarded joy she hadn’t seen in him since college. He reached over and flipped a switch, and the fan began to spin.

  Within a few gyrations, her bra flew off, landing on the back of his recliner. She looked at him again and grinned. Who knew an affair could be so fun?

  Mitch watched Sydney for a moment before heading back to the kitchen to finish heating their dinner. He felt good. Better than he had in a long time. It made him nervous. He’d known Sydney was dangerous because old feelings and memories were powerful and could cause him to let down his guard. But it wasn’t old memories causing him problems. It was the new ones being made.

  Sydney was different now. He liked the new adventurous Sydney in bed. He hadn’t been kidding when he told her she’d robbed him of his finesse and bedrooms skills. The first time he’d attributed to built-up desire. Despite his reputation, it had been a while since he’d been with a woman. And since Sydney’s arrival in town, his hormones had been in a constant state of wanting her. He supposed, despite his attempts to avoid her, it was only a matter of time before he fell in bed with her.

  The second time they’d rushed through sex because Sydney took charge. He’d led in bed when they’d been together before. She was always willing to go where he wanted sexually, although, he’d sensed her reserve and never pushed her too much. This new Sydney took the lead, and he was helpless to control his need. How far could he go with their sexual exploits now? His body responded just thinking about it.

  The third time they’d made love, he hadn’t been thinking about anything but ridding himself of the guilt and shame consuming him. He couldn’t believe he’d told her about Brian. Very few people knew about that day. He had felt compelled to tell Chelsea because Brian was he
r brother. She encouraged him to tell his family, which eventually he did, but after that, he planned to never talk about it again. So why had he told Sydney? It had to be those latent feelings, because at one time, he and Sydney shared everything. Thankfully, she didn’t look at him like he was a failure, or worse, a monster. Even so, he’d need to work harder to keep their conversations from veering too deep.

  He pulled the defrosted macs and cheese from his microwave and served it in two bowls. He took a moment to push the pain away before bringing the meal to the dining area.

  “Want me to set the table?”

  Sydney stood in the doorway. Her question was tentative as if she’d known he needed a moment.

  “Sure. Want wine or shall I pull out your moonshine? I’m not sure how much is left.”

  She shook her head. “No. I think I’m off moonshine for a bit.” She entered the kitchen and opened a few drawers until she found the one with utensils.

  “Wine then.” He set their dinner on the table. He frowned, thinking the table needed candles and maybe he should dim the lights. He shook the thought from his brain. No romance.

  Sydney entered with spoons and paper towels for napkins. He went back to the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of wine and two glasses. That wasn’t romantic. It was just a beverage.

  Within a few minutes, they sat at the table, barely dressed, satiated from sex, eating comfort food guaranteed to give them the fuel to go again.

  “To good food and even better sex.” Mitch held up his wineglass.

  “I’ll drink to that.” Sydney clicked her glass with his. After sipping, she stared at him. “Better than the food or better than before.”

  One bronze brow lifted.

  She waved her hand. “Never mind.”

  He laughed. “I suppose I’d have to say both.”

  She nodded. “Another way we’ve changed.”

  “Huh?”

  She hesitated as if she hadn’t meant to say her thought out loud. “We’re different than…well, when we knew each other before.”

  He nodded but hoped she wasn’t about to launch into a discussion about their past. He’d had enough of opening old wounds for one day.

  “Your accent is more pronounced now than I remember.”

  He let out a sigh of relief. “When in Rome.” His words dripped with southern drawl.

  “That’s true. I actually said ‘y’all’ the other day.”

  “Uh-oh. That’s the gateway word to full southern speaking.”

  She laughed. “I do enjoy listening to it. There are some wonderful turns of phrases in the south.”

  “I suspect much of life here is different than in New York.” He’d spent some time in New York, usually with her, when he was in college. The city was vibrant and bright. A fun place to visit, but he wasn’t sure he’d be able to live there. Did Sydney think Charlotte Tavern was boring, too quiet?

  “Yes. I miss the amazing variety of food and cultural events, but I like the slowness here. The friendliness.”

  “I bet you can’t find macs and cheese like this in New York.” He scooped up the creamy pasta.

  “Not that I’ve found.”

  They ate in silence for a few minutes until Mitch broke it. “Why did you go to Jordan?”

  Her eyes widened in surprise. He supposed his question was out of the blue. He wasn’t even sure why he asked it, except the Sydney he’d known in college wouldn’t have done something that was so risky and out of her sphere of experience.

  “I went because I wanted to help people who might not otherwise get help.” She paused and looked at him. “I wanted to do that because of you.”

  “Me?” He sat back. He remembered dragging her out to a few volunteer activities, usually to a homeless shelter, because, despite her small world, she was curious about how she could help. But he didn’t remember ever encouraging her to go abroad. In fact, he’d planned to marry her and keep her as close as possible.

  “It’s no secret I lived a sheltered, planned life. I was aware there were problems in the world, but they were so distant from me. You helped me make the connection. While my family donated money to help homeless people, you volunteered your time at a soup kitchen. You took me to one when we were at Princeton. Remember?”

  He nodded, ridiculously pleased she’d remembered.

  “And then you were compelled to enlist. To serve your country. I wanted to help too. Not by enlisting, but by helping the many people, women in particular, who need healthcare. In fact, I don’t know if you remember, but originally, I planned to become a dermatologist. I chose obstetrics and gynecology to help women.”

  He’d done that? He’d never considered the impact he’d had on her life. If he’d had any sway over her decisions, why had she let her parents talk her out of marrying him?

  “It’s one reason why I’m here. The free clinic helps so many poor, rural women. And they need it. There are still a lot of old wives’ tales where birth control is concerned.”

  “Is that what happened with Hank’s daughter?”

  “Well, I can’t discuss her situation specifically. But teens aren’t the only ones who are misinformed about reproduction.”

  “I suppose. Passion has a way of fogging the brain.”

  He and Sydney had let passion get the best of them once in college. Fortunately, the timing had been wrong, and she went on the pill right after that. But he’d been slightly disappointed she hadn’t gotten pregnant. That was when he was certain he loved her and wanted to spend his life with her. He proposed a few months later on her twenty-first birthday.

  As desperate and needy as he’d been tonight, he hadn’t forgotten to use condoms, although, he was annoyed at the delay getting them and putting them on caused.

  “Are you on the pill?”

  She stared at him for a long moment, and he got the feeling he’d asked the wrong question. “Yes, but considering your lifestyle—”

  “Jesus.” He tossed his bunched-up paper towel square on the table. “I’m not infected. I’m not even as active as my reputation would suggest.”

  She flinched at his outburst and then sighed, wiping her mouth and folding her makeshift napkin. “Mitch, I’m a doctor who specializes in reproductive health for women. That means I know a lot about sex and the health risks that go with it. Did you know STDs are on the rise? It doesn’t matter if you’ve been with one woman or a hundred. I’m not going to apologize for wanting to protect myself. Have you always used a condom?”

  “Yes.” And it was the truth. He’d never had sex with a stranger, so his concerns had been more about avoiding an unplanned pregnancy. He’d used condoms even with the women who said they were on the pill. Just to be safe. So why was he so mad now? God. He was losing his mind.

  “Then clearly you know what I’m talking about.”

  “I’m not a man-whore.” He supposed that was what bothered him. She thought he was a playboy. Sure, he’d dated many women, but his bedroom hadn’t had a revolving door of nightly one-night stands. The only reason it seemed like he was a lothario was because he didn’t want long-term commitments, which meant, after a few months with a woman, things would end.

  She smiled. “I don’t think you are.”

  “You believe everything this town is telling you about me.”

  “Not everything. Personally, I think you’d need to call the Guinness Book of Records if everything people were saying about you was true.”

  His irritation decreased. He even mustered a smile.

  “I will say the rumors of your skills… well, those are true.”

  Her words, with the glint in her eyes, had his body heating and hardening.

  “And I haven’t even shown you all my skills.”

  “There’s still time.”

  He nodded. How much time was the question. How far could he go with this and still keep his heart intact? Because the longer he was with Sydney, the more he feared he’d be unable to let her go when the time came. And it would come. Ev
entually she’d go back to New York. More than likely, he’d do something to mess it up. He briefly considered ending their affair right then and there.

  But then she stood and stripped her T-shirt off, exposing those beautiful, full breasts. Fuller than he’d remembered them being in college. His hands itched to hold them again.

  She smiled seductively. “There’s no time like the present.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Sydney woke in Mitch’s bed. As it turned out, he did have mad skills, the effects of which left a sweet soreness the morning after. She still thought they should call the people at the Guinness Book of World Records. What was the record for orgasms in one night? Each time she thought she should go to her own room, because people having affairs didn’t spend the night together, he’d show her another skill. Eventually she gave up, mostly because he’d liquefied her bones.

  “Are we running this morning?” His voice was husky. “Because there are other ways to exercise.”

  Her nipples hardened, as if they remembered the magnificent things he did to them and were saying, “Yes, please. More.”

  “Are you human?”

  His lids lifted just enough so she could see the bright green of his eyes. She’d always been attracted to eyes. Mitch’s were emerald, surrounded by long lashes any woman would kill to have.

  “Yes.” As if to prove it, he brought her hand to his groin.

  And just like that, she succumbed. She didn’t have the experience he had, but she did have knowledge of anatomy, curiosity, and imagination. She decided to put all three to use. It must have worked, because, within a few minutes, Mitch McKenna was begging her to never, ever stop. Feeling more feminine and sexy than she’d ever felt before, she pleasured him until he let out a feral yell and emptied.

  And because Mitch was a generous man, he repaid her in the shower. He suggested that maybe they could play hooky. But she had patients to see, several of whom were clinic patients who had enough trouble with transportation that she didn’t want to make it harder for them by making them reschedule. So, after showering and a quick breakfast, she let Mitch drive her to the hospital. It didn’t make sense to drive two cars if he was going to be following her everywhere. Instead of dropping her off, he parked so he could visit Jenny. But first he escorted Sydney to her office. “Tell Jenny I’ll visit her later,” Sydney said.