by Jenna Harte
Chapter Sixteen
When it was time to pick Sydney up from work that evening, the sky darkened, threatening a storm. Mitch studied the clouds as he made his way to the medical center. The ominous cover indicated he should gather his candles and flashlights. It wasn’t raining, yet, and the wind only brushed at the tops of the trees, but Mitch recognized a powerful spring storm when one was building. He just hoped it would hold off until he got Sydney safely into his place.
“Wow, it’s dark.”
Sydney walked beside him, and it was all he could do to keep from taking her hand. He mentally reprimanded himself for wanting to indulge in even this small gesture.
“Storm’s coming. We should hurry.”
Once she was settled into his truck, he drove through the streets of Charlotte Tavern. The rain started to fall in plump droplets. The wind picked up, tossing leaves and other plant debris in the road. By the time they reached his house, the storm was in full swing, including lightning and thunder so loud it sounded as if it were right on top of them.
He pulled behind Sydney’s car parked in his carport and rushed out to open the door on her side of the truck. He didn’t have a side door to the house, so they would have to run to avoid getting soaked.
“That came up fast.” She looked up, the rain dotting her face.
A light streaked across the sky, followed almost immediately by the boom of thunder. She startled. Instinct had him wrap an arm around her.
“Let’s run for it.” He had to raise his voice to be heard over the pounding rain and continued rumble of thunder.
She nodded. Her wide eyes and smile made her appear exhilarated. They’d had thunderstorms at Princeton, but he couldn’t ever remember being caught outside with her in one.
“One, two, three…” Mitch took her hand and made a run for the porch.
She was laughing when they finally reached the door and shook off the water. “It’s like running in a deluge.”
“You’ve never run in the rain?”
“Not like this.” She inhaled. “It’s so clean and fresh… and charged.”
He knew it stormed up north, and he’d wondered how she’d avoided getting caught in midst of a downpour.
Just then, another bolt of lightning streaked across the sky. She looked toward it, starting slightly when the thunderous crack followed.
Mitch studied her and then he took her hand and led her to the two plastic outdoor chairs, protected from the storm by the cover of the porch roof. She looked at him for a moment and then, with a smile, sat to watch Mother Nature’s show with him.
He’d always loved storms. The energy, wildness, and power. Most women he’d been with didn’t. A few had been afraid to sit on a porch to watch them, but even the ones who weren’t didn’t appreciate the brutal beauty. The trees bowed and swayed, like they were dancing in an animated movie. Lightening streaked through the sky in a natural firework show, backed with thunder that shook the house. He looked at Sydney, her eyes wide, not with fear, but with a gleam that suggested she was delighted at nature’s show. He found himself as mesmerized by her as she was by the storm.
She turned to him, her smile beaming. “I’ve never watched a storm before.”
How was it they’d spent four years together in college and he hadn’t shared this with her? “I love storms.”
“Really?” She seemed incredulous, and he found himself wondering how much else they didn’t know about each other.
He nodded and stood. “We might lose power. I should gather supplies just in case.”
“Let me help.” She stood too.
Since she’d come to Charlotte Tavern, Mitch had done everything he could to avoid her pull on him. He worked to control the impulse to touch and taste that washed over him when she was near. Standing on the porch, with the rain pelting, lightning flashing, and thunder rumbling, he let go of control. He reached out and pulled her into a tight embrace as his lips found and drank from hers. Her body melted against his, as if it had been made to fit it. She responded without reserve. Her mouth opened against his and invited him in.
The air around them was charged with energy and power. It surged through him and poured from him into the kiss. A soft moan escaped from her, adding fuel to an already-raging fire. He wanted to strip her naked and surge into her right there on his front porch. Thunder cracked, and she jerked, clung, and kissed him harder, as if the storm was raging through her too. And that was all it took. He was going to scandalize all of Charlotte Tavern and take her right there on his front porch. His hands began their ascent under her dress, wanting to verify she wanted him as desperately as he wanted her.
“Mitch.”
God, don’t talk. He covered her mouth more fully with his own.
“Mitch, your phone.”
His head lifted, and he finally heard the chirp of his cell phone.
“Do you need to get it?”
Dazed, it took a moment to orient himself. He pulled his phone from his pocket. Lexie. He swore as he poked the “talk” button. “You have the worst timing.”
“Sorry.” Drake’s voice came through the phone.
“Drake? What’s wrong?” Worry flooded through him.
“I was hoping I might talk to Doctor Preston. Her office wouldn’t give me her number, but I’m told she’s with you.”
“Is Lexie sick?”
“Can I talk to Doctor Preston?”
Mitch heard concern, but not necessarily panic, in Drake’s voice. Still, Drake was a master of control.
“Hold on.” He covered the phone with his hand. “It’s Drake. He wants to talk to you.”
“Yes, okay.” She reached for the phone.
“Hi, Drake. It’s Sydney.”
Mitch watched her, looking for clues as to what Drake might be saying to her.
“Has she talked to her doctor about this?”
Mitch’s gut clenched as he realized Drake had indeed been calling about Lexie’s health.
“Is she eating?”
Mitch drew closer, hoping to hear what Drake was saying.
“Dysgeusia is very common. More common than people realize—”
Mitch raised an eyebrow at her. What the hell was dysgeusia?
“It’s not a problem unless it’s so bad she’s not eating enough. Try giving her citrusy things, unless she has nausea. Or pickled food. Brushing her tongue and rinsing with mild salt water can help too. I’ve had patients suck on hard candy or chew gum after eating. You should talk to her doctor about changing her prenatal vitamin. Some can make it worse. Either way, you should talk to her doctor.”
Mitch took a deep breath. Sydney was calm and wasn’t telling Drake to take Lexie immediately to a hospital, so it must not be serious.
“Yes, of course. I’m happy to help.” She handed the phone back to Mitch. He pressed it to his ear, but Drake had already hung up. “Everything is fine.”
“You’re sure? What is Dysgeusia?”
“It’s when pregnant women get a metallic or bad taste in their mouth after eating. For most it’s annoying, but for some, it’s so bad they don’t want to eat.”
“Lexie’s not eating?”
“Drake’s concerned she’s not eating enough. Her doctor should be able to help her find ways to get relief. For most women, it goes away by the second trimester.”
“But she’s in the second, isn’t she?”
“Give or take a few weeks.” Sydney smiled. “She’ll be fine. Drake won’t let her be otherwise.”
“You probably get this a lot. Being hunted down for advice. Having to reassure people.”
She nodded. “Yes, but I don’t mind. Stress can be unhealthy too, and if I can help alleviate that, then I will. But I don’t want to be seen as poaching another doctor’s patient, so I always refer them there.”
“You’re good at this.”
Her head cocked to the side, as if she was surprised by the compliment.
“You handled Hank like a pro. You were
calm with Drake, who is a levelheaded guy but can get pretty intense, especially where Lexie is concerned.”
“Thank you.”
Mitch studied her. Until now he’d never really seen her as a doctor. Of course, he’d known she was, but his memories of her in college too often clouded his thinking of her.
“I’m proud of you.”
Her brows rose. “You doubted me.”
“No.” He smiled and rubbed his hands on her arms. “It’s just sunk in that you achieved what you set out to do. When we were together before, it was your goal, but you were struggling to get through organic chemistry.”
“It wasn’t easy, but I made it.”
The recognition of her achievements had him pondering what their life would have been like had they continued down the path they’d planned. Would she have been able to finish medical school? Would she have gone to Jordan? The idea that the answers might be no bothered him.
Her head tilted to the side. “Have you regretted not going to law school?”
“No. I was done with school and after getting out of the army, I had no plans. Kevin suggested law enforcement.”
“You’re good at it.”
He grinned. “You’ve never seen me in action.”
“Yes, I have. You were gentle yet still pushed enough to get my statement. You were kind even when you still resented me. And this is a small town. People don’t just talk about your conquests. They talk about your work, about how good you are at it.”
Mitch drew himself up to his full height, the feeling of pride washing through him that townspeople were saying he did good work. Not that Charlotte Tavern had a lot of crime. Mostly it had burglaries, vandalism, drunk and disorderly, and some domestic disputes. They hadn’t had a murder in over a year.
Another bolt of lightning flashed, followed by a deafening bang. “Maybe we should go inside.”
Disappointment flashed in her hazel eyes, but she nodded.
He opened the door and let her in first. He flipped on the light, but the house remained dark. “Uh-oh.” He flipped the switch up and down, without success. “Looks like the power is out. Wait there.” The house wasn’t completely black, but it was dark enough that anyone who didn’t know it well would have to stumble through. He went to the small desk near the door and took a flashlight from the drawer. He turned it on, lighting the living area.
“I’ve got a lights-out kit in the kitchen.”
“Lights-out kit?”
“Flashlights, candles, radio… you know.”
She smiled. “Yes. I’ve just never heard it called that. Do you lose power often?”
“Not often, but frequently enough that having a kit helps.”
He took her hand and led with the flashlight to the kitchen. Opening the door of the pantry, he pulled out a plastic box and set it on the counter. He tested a flashlight then handed it to her.
“I’m going to change. My clothes are wet.”
He nodded, although he liked the way the wet clothes clung to her, showing her curves. While she was gone, he dug through the kit, checking the candles, batteries, matches, and radio. He left it on the counter and thought about what they should eat. He had a gas stove, which meant they could cook dinner. Odds were the power wouldn’t be out too long, unless a tree had taken down a power line.
“Much better.” She entered the kitchen wearing a T-shirt and yoga pants. If she wasn’t going to wear the wet dress, this would do.
“How about ice cream for dinner?”
She gave him an amused smile. “Ice cream?”
“When I was growing up and the power went out, we ate ice cream. No power to the fridge means frozen stuff melts.”
“You can’t have that.”
“Nope. Bowls are over there if you want to grab a couple.” He went to the fridge and opened the freezer, pulling out the ice cream. He hoped she liked chocolate loaded with nuts and chocolate bits. When he turned, she was setting the bowls on the counter and pulling spoons from the drawer. She should have looked out of place. She was sophisticated and regal. But as he watched her, she belonged there. Not just in the kitchen, but in a home. His home. The thought terrified him, yet he found it nearly impossible to push away. This is the life they could have had.
“I’ll serve us. Do you want to take the candles into the living room?”
She nodded, picking up her flashlight and the box. She left the kitchen, and he took a moment to regain his composure. He couldn’t let her get to him, but it was hopeless. She was a part of him. She’d always been. But it wasn’t the past that had him compelled to keep her close. This new Sydney was more exciting… more… everything. One part of him told him to get away from her, to drop her off at a hotel to stop the momentum they’d started the night before. But another part of him, a part he thought had died in Iraq, desperately wanted everything being with her promised: love, connection, happiness.
He hadn’t been lying when he told her she deserved more than what he had to offer, but now he wanted to offer her more. She agreed to his conditions, and he wondered what she’d do if he changed the rules. He stood with that thought for a moment, waiting for panic to set in. But it didn’t. Instead, for once, the yearning for what they’d had outweighed his need to protect his heart.
He scooped the ice cream into the bowls and carried them to the living area. Sydney sat near the fireplace, her gaze fixed on the candles she’d lined in a row on the hearth. She’d also lit candles and set them on the coffee table. The light flickered, its reflection shimmering like gold in her honey-blond hair. She turned, smiled at him, and that was it. Any remnants of his resolve to guard his heart melted away and he tumbled, head over heels in love with her again.
Sydney watched as Mitch brought the bowls of ice cream. The expression on his face mesmerized her. She wanted to believe it was love, but he’d been so clear that love and commitment weren’t in his future. She desperately wished she could change that. Not just because she loved him despite all her attempts to keep her heart in check, but also because he was a man who deserved to be loved. She wanted to soothe away the hurt and grief and guilt. She wanted to help him live life fully. She had to believe it was what his friend Brian would have wanted for him.
He sat with her on the floor, next to the coffee table in front of the fireplace. “There’s lots more, so eat up.”
“So you really had ice cream for dinner growing up?”
“Whenever the power went out. Lexie and I would make forts, and my dad would put on shadow puppet plays with the flashlight.”
Sydney’s heart filled at the image of a young Mitch and Lexie. What a wonderful childhood. Had he really given up the idea that he could have the same as an adult? She scooped up some ice cream and the chocolate cooled her tongue. “I think eating ice cream when the power is out is a good rule. What about the winter? Does the power go out then too?”
“Sometimes, and we’d still eat ice cream and make forts. If it was out for more than a day, we camped out in the living room. My dad would keep a fire going in the fireplace and we roasted marshmallows to make s'mores.”
Did he realize how happy he looked telling the story? She wanted to tell him she wanted to do those things with her kids, their kids, but didn’t want to spoil the moment. She’d agreed to an affair and she’d stick to her agreement.
“Do have any childhood stories?”
She had nice memories, but none like Mitch’s. “When I needed to get away to think as a kid, I went to the Balto statue in Central Park.”
“Balto? The cartoon dog?”
Sydney frowned. “He was a real dog first, who helped deliver medicine in Nome, Alaska. It’s the route of the Iditarod.”
Mitch grinned. “I know what Balto and the Iditarod are.”
“Yeah, from a cartoon.”
“But I know him. What’s the deal with the unicorn cookies?”
She laughed. “I had a patient who had them and her child shared one with me. I was hooked.”
“We should’ve put them on the ice cream.”
“I think everything is just fine as it is.”
He nodded toward the fireplace. “That’s nice.”
“Thank you. I wasn’t sure how you wanted them.”
He gave her an amused look. “Sydney and her rules.”
She felt her cheeks flush with embarrassment, but she tried to look stern when she said, “There’s something to be said for order.”
He set his bowl aside. “When a romantic setting is created, the rule is that it needs to be fully utilized.”
“Really?” Her heart rate kicked into high gear at his sensual tone and the use of the word “romantic.” Did it mean he felt more than friendship and lust?
He took her bowl, setting it on the coffee table. “Uh huh.”
Outside, thunder rumbled, showing no signs of calming. The rain pelted the roof. Inside, candles flickered, flashing in his green, sensuous eyes.
His hand reached around to the back of her neck and pulled her to him in a kiss. His lips and tongue were cold, until he started brushing them across her mouth, his tongue sweeping inside in a delicious dance. Then it was hot. Kissing Mitch had quickly vaulted to the top of Sydney’s favorite things to do. It had been that way in college, but this was even better. Now that she knew what it was like to be without him, she never wanted to do it again. She’d been with other men, but none had sent fierce need spiking through her body with a single sweep of his tongue.
Mitch’s kiss both soothed and agitated. It heated her body, turning her blood to liquid heat, making her go pliant. At the same time, it built tension, coiling between her legs, creating an edgy, desperate need for attention, for release.
He must have felt it too because, a few moments later, she was out of her clothes, and his hands and lips were everywhere. It would have been easy to surrender to him, but she wanted to touch and taste. Her hands weren’t as sure as his when it came to disrobing, but she managed to get his shirt off and immediately her lips slid across his neck, kissing the scars from Iraq, wanting to soothe as well as pleasure. He moaned as she cascaded kisses lower, flicking her tongue over his nipples before sucking them between her lips. His fingers threaded her hair and held her head to him.
