Love is Lovelier

by Donna Simonetta

  “She was right,” Mick said. “You shouldn’t have had to sacrifice your future for Jeff.”

  “Heather understands how important family is—get off her ass!” Danny snapped.

  “Language,” Carol warned.

  Danny hung his head and muttered, “Sorry, Ma.”

  “Sam was just a little baby, Mick, you were there, you remember, and she’d lost her mother.” For whatever her mother was worth, Heather added silently before continuing, “A nanny would’ve been okay, if there was no choice, but I wanted to be there for her, to surround her with love. Sure, I gave something up, but I got so much more in return. And when I see what a great kid Sam’s turned into, I don’t have any regrets.”

  “Because you honored your family obligations, unlike my no-good son,” Mr. Evans said.

  Okay, this plan had backfired, and enabled Mr. Evans to turn it back around to ragging on Mick. She shut her eyes and took a deep breath. “You sure I can’t make some toast, Carol?”

  ****

  Mick lifted his index finger off the steering wheel to point at the sign for Braden Farm. “I bet you want to make a quick stop there to thank your family for not being insane.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Your family is not insane.”

  “After spending the weekend up close and personal with the Evans Clan, how can you say so with a straight face?”

  “Because they’re not. Your dad and Danny are difficult…”

  He cut her off with a derisive snort. “That’s putting it mildly.”

  She went on as if he hadn’t interrupted, “But everyone else is great. Your mom and Susan are sweethearts, and Dave and Billy are a lot of fun. No family is perfect.”

  He glanced at her, then turned back to watch the road. “Not even yours? Because from where I stand, y’all look pretty damned Norman Rockwell-ish.”

  “Is that an insult?”

  “No way. I have total Braden envy.”

  “I did get pretty lucky in the family lottery, but we all have our quirks and flaws. And while your father might be a serious crick in the ass,” she paused and snuffled. “At least you still have him. And while you do, there’s always a chance for you two to reconnect; I don’t think you should take it for granted.”

  He reached across the console to take her hand. “I’m sorry, Heather, I wasn’t thinking about the fact you’ve lost your father. I was being insensitive.”

  “It’s okay. Can I just give you a piece of free advice?”

  He signaled and turned Lola onto Main Street, which was deserted on a Sunday evening. “Sure.”

  “Don’t lose touch with your family again. Grit your teeth and bear it when you’re with your dad and Danny, and enjoy your time with everyone else. You never know when any of them will be gone. And once they are, you can’t get the time back.”

  He eased into a spot in front of the Nosh Pit, which was closed all day on Sunday.

  She turned in her seat to face him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get all preachy on you, it’s just family is important to me. When my dad died, it brought all of us closer together. I’ve read death can drive some families apart, but it didn’t work that way with us. We all pulled together to look out for each other. It’s a great support system; we all know we’ll never be alone. And I want the same thing for you too.”

  He cleared his throat, and when he spoke, his voice was thick. “But I am always alone. The original lone wolf, that’s me. I’m used to it.”

  She squeezed his hand. “If you’re happy living your life alone, it’s all good. But if you’re not, don’t turn away people who care about you. You’ve got family and friends; you don’t have to be alone.”

  He looked deep into her eyes, and she felt it burn all the way down to her toes. She shivered, even though the night was warm. She felt feverish, hot and cold at the same time.

  Desire sparked in his whiskey colored eyes. His voice was deep as he asked, “How about tonight? Do I have to be alone tonight?”

  Chapter 12

  “No,” she whispered.

  He cupped her cheek with one big hand; she leaned into the touch ever so slightly.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes.”

  He smiled. “No and yes, is that all you’re going to say?”

  “Maybe.” She tried to keep her face serious, but couldn’t hold back a small smile.

  He chuckled. “For the record, ‘yes’ works for me, but if your answer is ‘no,’ or even ‘maybe,’ I’ll respect those too. I can just take your bags upstairs and then be on my way.”

  “No.”

  His face dropped as he released her face, and reached for the door handle. “Okay, I understand.”

  She reached across the center console to still his hand. “That’s not what I meant. I’d like you to come up, I only meant I can carry my own bags.” She blushed and continued. “If you’re going to stay over, you’ll need your bags too, and there’s no need to load you up like a pack mule. I don’t want you to get worn out before we even get to my apartment.”

  He let out the breath he hadn’t even realized he was holding. After a weekend of tension with his family, and essentially foreplay with Heather, he had not been looking forward to spending the night on his own in his cabin, with its big, cold, lonely bed.

  He grinned at her. “So, you don’t want me worn out—got big plans for me, huh?”

  She grinned back as she unbuckled her seat belt. “You better believe it!”

  ****

  Mick followed Heather up the stairs to her apartment over the Nosh Pit. He was already a big man, but lugging all of their bags up this narrow stairwell, he was worried he’d get wedged in, and they’d have to call the Rivers Bend Volunteer Fire Department to pry him out. It would be a real mood killer.

  He heard the jangle of Heather’s keys as she unlocked the door and threw it open with a flourish.

  “Ta da! Be it ever so humble…”

  Mick followed her into the apartment. “Where do you want the bags?”

  “Just dump them anywhere; we can worry about them later.”

  Was she as anxious—okay, forget anxious and call it what it really was—was she as hot for him as he was for her? Her loud stomach rumble put that question out of his head.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t stop for lunch, I was just enjoying driving Lola on the open road so much,” he said with a frown.

  The fresh air from having the top down, and the loud music Heather had cranked up on the amazing sound system, had done a good job of blasting away memories of his father and Danny’s disdain for him; however, he hadn’t thought Heather might want food. He felt like a selfish jerk.

  “No problem. I was having fun too; I didn’t think about it until my tummy reminded me just now.”

  “But it’s Rivers Bend on a Sunday night, where are we going to get food? The mini-mart at the gas station is the only place open. How about a hot dog and a slushie? Tell you what, since I clearly know how to treat a lady, I’ll go wild and even get you the nachos, with the scary mystery cheese matter on them.”

  Heather held up her index finger and spoke as she walked into her little kitchen. “Hold on, we might not have to resort to mystery cheese. If I know my sister, Deidre…” She opened the fridge door, peered inside it, and crowed triumphantly. “And I do! We’ve got leftovers from the Nosh Pit!”

  Mick squeezed between the old school shiny aluminum and red kitchen table to peek over her shoulder at containers and wrapped up sandwiches.

  “She knew I’d be getting in too late to get food, and she knows me well enough to know I don’t have anything to cook here. She gave me some coleslaw, potato salad, and sandwiches left over from Saturday service at the Nosh Pit.”

  “Bless her,” Mick’s response was heartfelt, as talking about food made him realize he was hungry for more than just Heather.

  She held up a sandwich in each hand and read the writing on the paper wrapped around them. “We’ve got Virginia ham and ch
eddar, and turkey with Havarti. Do you want to split them so we each get some of both?”

  His stomach grumbled this time, and Heather laughed. “I’ll take that as a yes.” She gestured with her head. “Plates are in that cupboard. Would you please grab a couple for us?”

  “Sure.” He grabbed two dishes and set them on the table with a clatter.

  “What do you want to drink? I’ve got beer, wine.” She pointed through the pass-through between the kitchen and the living room with the hand holding a tub of potato salad. “Or if you want, I’m quite the mixologist, I can whip up a cocktail. Right now, I’m trying to perfect a frozen mint julep for my mom’s annual Kentucky Derby party. Want to be my guinea pig?”

  “Maybe later. Did I see diet cola in your fridge?”

  “You did. I’ll get it for us, and you divide up the sammies.”

  He peered into the living room through the pass-through, and saw a vintage tiki-style bamboo bar. “I love the way you’ve decorated this place.”

  She looked over her shoulder as she opened the freezer door to get ice for their sodas, which she plunked into their glasses. “Are you being sarcastic?”

  “No, why would you think I was?” Mick took a sip of the cola she handed him and looked at her over the top of the glass.

  “Because everything in here came from yard sales and my mom’s attic, and you strike me as more of a professional interior decorator kind of guy.”

  He shrugged. “I used a decorator for my place in Portland, because I had no idea how to do it, but I like what you’ve done here. It’s funky and eclectic; it’s you.”

  She bit her lower lip, and peered at him, as if still trying to decide whether or not he was picking on her. “Thanks.”

  They sat next to each other at the table and dug into their impromptu dinner.

  Mick closed his eyes his bliss as he took his first bite. “Mmm…this was so thoughtful of your sister. Still want to tell me your family isn’t perfect?”

  She rolled her eyes as she chewed, and swallowed hastily. “They’re great—I give you that—and since we became adults we all get along really well, but we’re not perfect. Jeez Louise, didn’t you listen to a word I said in the car?”

  He put his sandwich back on the plate, and took her free hand. “I did, Heather, I’m sorry if you thought I didn’t listen. You shared something real and personal, and I get it. I do. You inspired me, and I’m going to try to get along better with my dad and Danny.”

  “Good.” She smiled at him and turned her hand in his, so their fingers intertwined. “I’m glad. It won’t be easy, but this way even if they don’t come around, at least you’ll know you did everything you could.”

  He rubbed his thumb against her palm and felt her shiver at the touch. He lifted their joined hands and pressed a kiss to the spot his thumb caressed.

  She licked her lips, and suddenly he was hungry for something other than the sandwich. He leaned toward her and kissed her lips; he felt her grip tighten on his, as she returned his kiss with fervor.

  He whispered against her soft lips, “Want to finish dinner later?”

  She nodded and peeked at him through her lashes, with uncharacteristic shyness, which made him worry she’d changed her mind.

  “Are you sure, Heather? If you don’t want to, I’ll understand. There are clearly issues. I’m still your boss, we’ve got a complicated history together…”

  She cut him off with a kiss. “Can’t we worry about all that stuff later?”

  A slow smile curled up the corners of his mouth. “Sounds good to me.” He ran his knuckles along her cheek. “I’ve wanted this, wanted you, since the first time I saw you eleven years ago.”

  She rubbed her face against his hand, and then surprised him when her pink tongue darted out to lick his finger. “Me too, and I’m not a patient woman. I’ve never waited for anything this long in my life. We can figure all the other stuff out tomorrow.”

  She stood and tugged him up with her.

  He scooped her up into his arms and carried her out of the kitchen. She kissed him at the sensitive juncture where his neck met his shoulder. Had she remembered how it made him wild after all these years? “Okay, I’ve never been in your apartment before. Which way do I go?”

  She laughed and twined her arms around his neck. “I love how you’re strong enough to carry me around like I was a petite, little thing like Magda.”

  He smiled. “Glad my brute strength and size is finally good for something besides football. Now…bedroom?”

  “Last room on the right.”

  He strode down the hall with purpose to Heather’s bedroom, and when they entered it, he wasn’t surprised to see how messy it was. Working with Heather had taught him she was super-efficient, but her office always looked like a tornado had just swept through it. Her bedroom was much the same.

  He placed her carefully on the unmade bed and bent down to kiss her. She reached up and pulled him down on top of her. They both laughed as the bed bounced, and creaked ominously. Mick looked at it for the first time. It was clearly old enough to qualify as an antique, but not fancy. Someone had painted it white, with purple flowers painted on the headboard. Mick didn’t know diddily about flowers—were they heather, like her name? He wondered if Heather had painted it herself.

  “This bed wasn’t made for a man my size; I hope I don’t break it.”

  “I’ve had this bed forever. It’s sturdier than it looks.” She blushed. “Let me rephrase that, because it made me sound a little slutty.”

  He chuckled. “I don’t think you’re slutty.” He punctuated his next words with kisses to her forehead, nose, and finally her lips. “I think you’re amazing, smart, funny, and sexy as hell.”

  As he stretched out next to her, the bedsprings complained…loudly. Heather giggled.

  “Are you sure this thing is going to hold up?”

  “Only one way to find out.” She kissed his neck, and pulled his shirttails out of his pants.

  After eleven years of unfulfilled desire for each other, neither was in the mood to go slow. They undressed in a frenzy. Clothes flew all over the room, and they never stopped kissing each other, touching each other.

  When she reached down to take his hard length in his hand, he groaned as a most unwelcome thought popped into his head.

  She pulled back to look at him, she loosened her grip on him. “That didn’t sound like a groan of pleasure. Did I hurt you?”

  “No! Trust me, baby, hurt is the last thing I’m feeling. It’s just I had no expectations about this weekend. I really meant it when I said we’d just be going together as friends, so I don’t have any protection.”

  “Oh! No worries. I’ve got it covered.”

  Heather jumped out of bed, and Mick admired the view of her body as she hurried across the hall to her bathroom. She had the long, lithe build of an athlete, combined with the curves that made her all woman. She came back, waving a box of condoms. “Here you go; thanks for thinking of it, I was too far gone.”

  Mick effortlessly caught the box she tossed to him, and pulled out a foil packet. He hadn’t lived like a monk for the last eleven years, but he didn’t want to think about another man leaving condoms here. He knew it wasn’t fair, or even rational, but he felt jealous and possessive of Heather. Tonight wasn’t the time to think about those feelings, or what they might mean.

  Heather hopped back into bed with him and the bed creaked. “So, where were we?”

  Mick pulled her against him, and shuddered at the sensation of her silky skin pressed against his hard body. “Right about here. I want you so much, Heather, I’m not sure if I’ll be able to show much finesse this first time.”

  She ran her hands down his arms and slipped the foil packet out of his fingers, smiling at him as she tore it open. “Fast works for me this time too, but next time…”

  He grinned. “Next time, I’ll show you some of my better moves.”

  “Ooo, the man’s got moves,” she teased as
she rolled the condom onto him.

  As he slid into her welcoming heat, they both moaned. Mick had never felt anything like the way they moved together. He realized this was the first time he’d made love to a woman. Raw, wild sex, yeah, he’d had plenty of that, but this was different. Heather was different. He felt like something had clicked into place and he suddenly understood what all those sappy love songs meant. It was a thought he expected to terrify him, but as he continued to stroke inside her, he felt nothing but a bone-deep calm, a sense of belonging…of rightness.

  Heather’s eyes fluttered shut, and her body gripped him in waves. No sound had ever sounded sweeter than his name on her lips, as her release washed over them both. It brought his own climax on, and he roared his release.

  ****

  Heather woke up early, and felt satiated, content, and—cold? She pulled the covers tighter around her, and wondered where Mick was. The man was like a blast furnace. He put off so much heat while he slept; she thought the chill when he was gone must be what had awoken her.

  She smiled as she snuggled into bed. Mick had not lied when he said he had moves. The first time they’d made love was the best she’d ever experienced…until the second time, which managed to be even better. And when he woke her up in the middle of the night with his talented fingers and mouth—hoo boy—round three was the best yet, and it blew her away.

  Rustling noises and a muffled curse made her open her eyes. Mick stood in the middle of the room in all his naked glory, and was his body ever Greek god glorious! He bent to rub his big toe as if he’d stubbed it.

  “Mick? What are you doing?”

  “Shit! Sorry I woke you. I was looking for my clothes.”

  He didn’t want to wake her? And he was looking for his clothes?