by Edie Ramer
***
He shouldn’t do this.
But when he’d held her, it had been like holding on to a fairy with warm blood running through her. Someone bright with possibility and hope. And it had been so long since he’d felt any of those emotions. So long since he’d even thought they were possible for him.
“You’re a magic woman,” he said.
She laughed breathlessly. “I’m not magic. I’m all too human.”
“I’m human, too.” He stepped toward her, afraid to say anything more that would show her how needy he was, how much he wanted her, the need pulsing through him. If she knew, he feared it would scare her.
“Wait!” She held up her hand. “Condoms.”
He slid his hand into his pocket then pulled out his packet.
She laughed. “You must’ve won all the badges as a Boy Scout.”
“My grandparents thought the Scouts were a waste of time. I wasn’t allowed to join them.”
Her forehead wrinkled. “I bet you wanted to join, didn’t you?”
“Not as much as I want this.” He slid the packet back into his pocket then took her in his arms.
She smiled up at him. “I’ve been told I’m very good in bed.”
“I haven’t had any complaints, but no one’s told me that.”
“I’ll let you know if you deserve any merit badges.”
***
She wasn’t wearing much, just a T-shirt and tap shorts, but he insisted on undressing her. Slowly. Very slowly. His hands and fingers skimming her skin.
Her eyes closed, her body heated, her breath quickened. They’d barely started, and already he deserved a merit badge for the first step.
“You can be my undresser any day,” she said when she was naked, and he stood back, looking at her, up and down then up and down again, leaving her skin warm and tingling. Just like the heroines in the romances she read, she was melting a little inside.
“I didn’t know that undresser was a job title.”
“You could be the first. Women would pay you to undress them and look at them with hot eyes.” Her voice lowered, and his eyes darkened. Watching them smolder, she felt strong, empowered, sensual. It had been too long since she’d felt this way, and she went with the flow, ready to see where it would take her. “I think they would pay you a lot.”
“I don’t think they would pay me anything. My eyes only grow hot looking at you.”
She laughed softly, though she wanted to laugh loudly and with joy. But Cara was sleeping in the next room, and this would be a bad time for her to wake up. A very bad time.
“You’re a true redhead,” he said.
“Of course. And you’re wearing too many clothes. Maybe I can torture you...er, undress you now.”
He laughed softly, too, and tore off his clothes much faster than he’d taken off hers, not giving her a chance to try out her sexual torture. He’d folded hers and put them on her dresser, but he left his in a puddle on the carpet.
“Nice,” she said, and he was better than nice with long, leanly muscled legs, flat stomach, and nice chest and arms. Muscled but not too muscled. She wasn’t surprised he took care of his body, and right now she appreciated his care, as if he’d done it just for her.
“Just nice?” he asked.
She laughed again. This was a time of laughter. A time of loving. A time that she would want to remember again and again.
“Incredible.” She raised her eyes to his face. “But why are we talking so much?”
He stepped toward her. “I’ve been imagining this in my mind, and I’m not hurrying anything.”
Her body heat went up. If she had a fan, she would turn it on high.
Then he reached her. She had expected him to be thorough and methodical. She hadn’t expected him to be slow and reverent. It started with a whisper of a kiss that made her demand more, their tongues meeting and dancing, their bodies touching, skin against skin.
Heat coiled deep inside her. Desire mushroomed and rose. Her legs weak, she clung to him as tremors started from just the kiss and just the embrace. A moan came out of her mouth, and she could hear the need in it. The want. As if it came from some secret, wild place.
“Yes,” he whispered. “Yes.”
And then she was on the bed while he sheathed himself in a condom, and she grinned. The Boy Scouts had missed a natural when his grandfather had kept him from the organization.
He joined her on the bed, and his hands and fingers feathered across her body.
Immediately, her body lit up. On fire. She couldn’t stand it. Could. Not. Stand. It. She wanted more, more, more.
If she didn’t have it soon, she would scream.
But she couldn’t scream, not with Cara next door. Instead, small keening sounds came from her mouth.
“Stop,” she said, her voice strangled. “Stop.”
He stopped, and she immediately wished he hadn’t listened to her. Her body throbbed and needed then needed some more. She wished he would keep touching her and would never, ever stop. But if he kept touching her, she would have to scream. Scream so loud she’d wake Cara, the cats, the dog, her neighbors next to her and behind her. And maybe even across the street.
“You’re torturing me,” she said, her voice throaty. “I want you now. I don’t need foreplay, not this time. I just need you.”
His eyes burned. “Not yet, just a little more.” He bent forward, and his lips touched one breast, his hand cupping the other. And he touched and he kissed and he sucked up and down her then up again. And all she could do was hold her fists at her sides and try to keep her moans down.
“Next time,” she said with a gasp, “I’m going to torture you.”
He laughed softly. “Is that a promise?” His voice was like gravel.
She couldn’t answer. He was torturing her neck now, and she had her arms around him, holding him, writhing under him and against him. Too much emotion inside her aching to break out.
And how did this man who she’d thought would be competent turn out to be the world’s greatest lover?
“I’m ready,” she said, her voice shaky. “Past ready. Now, please. Now.”
He entered her in increments. Each one an agony. Each one an ecstasy. A long moan coming from her mouth.
And then he was inside her, and they were holding each other, the slow mating dance turning into a frenzy for both of them as they took more and more and more and gave more and more and more. Until she rocked against him, gasping, fireworks going off inside her.
Then he was clutching her, grunting as she held on to him.
Crazy, wonderful, incredible sex.
He waited until his pounding heart slowed before rolling off of her.
She stared at the ceiling in a stupefied, satisfied half daze.
“So how was it?” he asked, a lazy, satisfied smile in his voice. “Any awards?”
“A boatload,” she said slowly. She felt like she was floating and didn’t want to come down to earth. “The best I’ve ever had.”
She felt his gaze on her, a warm weight. She turned her head.
“Me, too,” he said.
She took his hand. “Will you stay with me tonight?”
“I’ll have to get up before Cara wakes up.”
“I’ll get up to set the clock.” She closed her eyes. “In just a minute.”
“Okay,” he said, as she felt her thoughts drifting away....
18
“Daddy?”
His eyes snapped open, and he knew immediately where he was. In Abby’s bedroom. On Abby’s bed. Lying next to her. She was on her side, her back to him. He gazed over her shapely shoulder to see Cara looking from him to Abby with wide eyes.
He swore silently. At least a sheet was draped over their bodies. Pulling it up over their shoulders was the last thing he remembered doing before he fell asleep next to her.
The morning sunlight filtered through Abby’s shades, giving Cara a clear eyeshot of them together.
Something slapped onto the bed. Quigley, walking between them. Holden inched back to give Quigley room. Abby’s bed was full-size, and he was careful not to slide too far away from Abby.
A thought crept through his brain that next time they’d have to do this at his house in his king-size bed.
Minnie jumped on the bed and mewled a long sentence at Quigley in different tones and shapes. He made a growling sound to her, and it sounded to Holden as if they were talking about him and Abby and were not happy with what had happened.
He tore his gaze from the cats to Cara and noticed she was holding her kitten. As he wondered what the hell to say to her, the white cat leaped out of her hands. Now there were three cats on the bed.
The dog padded into the bedroom, too, and stopped next to Cara. The two of them looked as if they were posing for a portrait: a girl and her dog.
And he still didn’t know what to say.
“Um...”
“Good morning, Cara,” Abby said. “Oh, I like your top. Did you pick it yourself?”
She nodded. “My nanny took me shopping, and I liked this one.”
“Great choice! Would you mind leaving the room while I get dressed? I’ll come out real fast so I can feed Lion and the cats. Then I’ll feed you and your dad.”
Cara nodded and turned. At the door, she called Epic’s name. Epic meowed then rushed out after her. So did the dog.
As soon as the door closed, Abby threw off the sheet and jumped out of bed. He held the sheet over him for a few seconds until he was sure Cara wouldn’t return to the bedroom again. There was no way he wanted a six-year-old to see him naked.
“That was awkward,” Abby said.
“What should I tell her?” He hopped out of the bed and took two fast strides to his clothes on the floor.
Abby grabbed a top from an older closet with sliding doors that ran the width of the bedroom. “Tell her the couch hurt your back, so you slept in my bed.”
“That would be lying.”
She gave him an exasperated look. “Then tell her what you want. In my opinion, some things are better for kids not to know. She’ll figure it out when she’s older. By then, she won’t think any worse of us or be confused.”
He pulled on his briefs then grabbed his slacks. “The couch was actually a bit uncomfortable, so it really wouldn’t be lying.”
She squeaked a laugh as she crossed to the door.
“Abby.”
Reaching for the door handle, she turned slightly, her eyes meeting his.
“Last night was pretty wonderful for me.”
“Me, too.” For a moment, they stared at each other, and he felt his body respond to the way she looked with her red, messy hair, her face soft with satisfaction, her green eyes happy. Then she opened the door, turned into the hall and left him in the bedroom with the two cats staring at him.
“It’s just you and me,” he said.
Quigley headed to the door, but the Siamese talked to him while he got dressed. He had no idea what she was trying to tell him, but it was long and complicated, and he knew it was important. But he didn’t speak Siamese, and he had some decisions to make. He wasn’t looking forward to doing any of it, and he had the crazy idea that if he could understand what the cat said, he might make the right decision.
***
By the time Minnie and Quigley finished eating, Lion had gobbled his up moments ago and was watching Mom prepare the human food, poised to move fast if she dropped any morsels. Epic was still eating, and Minnie and Quigley reluctantly settled down on a sunny spot in the corner of the kitchen to watch the humans.
Cara carried plates to the table then hurried back to Mom. She laughed at something Mom said, happiness in her voice.
Everything is all right now, Quigley said.
Now they’re happy, Minnie said. But it’s early.
And they’re humans, Quigley said. Humans always make things hard. Why is it?
I don’t know. I think they want too much.
Even Mom? What do you think she wants?
Minnie didn’t answer. She looked at Holden instead.
Holden was what Mom wanted. She could see it in the say Mom looked at him. The way Mom smelled when she was around him.
Minnie had talked to Holden while he’d put on his human clothes. Like most of his kind, he didn’t understand her and couldn’t reply. But she saw uncertainty in his face. And if he was uncertain, then Minnie didn’t think he was good enough for Mom.
***
Not for the first time, Abby wondered what was wrong with men. What deficiency in their brains made them say and act the way they did? Even the best of them.
The first thing Holden said when he walked into the kitchen was that she didn’t have to make breakfast.
“No problem,” Abby said evenly, resisting the temptation to hit him over the head with the frying pan. “I’ll eat the eggs myself.”
“It’s not that—”
“I told you, no problem.” Her face heated, and she was aware of Cara staring at her with a scared look on her face. She forced a smile. “I was making an egg for Cara, too. Is that all right?”
Cara gazed at him with pleading in her eyes.
Watching her, Abby really wanted to kick him in the shins. She wasn’t normally an angry person, but she was not immune to the emotion and was getting pissed off now.
“That’s fine. I didn’t mean—”
“Great!” Abby crouched in front of Cara. “Sweetie, I bet Lion would really like it if you threw a ball for him until breakfast is ready. Okay?”
Cara nodded, but her face didn’t light up as it usually did.
Abby thanked her then stepped to the silverware drawer. Only when the screen door clicked shut did she turn to Holden.
He looked miserable. Good.
“You’ve got this all wrong,” he said.
She crossed her arms then uncrossed them, making an instant decision that she was not going to be that bitter person. Just because they were good together in bed didn’t mean anything.
“Don’t make excuses. I don’t need them; I don’t want them. You’ve got the morning regrets written in giant letters on your face. I’m okay with it.” She shrugged. “We had a good time. It doesn’t mean anything.”
“That’s not it. It’s just that...” He rubbed his hand through his hair. “There’s Portia. I should take care of that first.”
“Don’t take care of it on my account.” She shifted to the stove, turning the heat on to medium. “Would you mind setting the table? In a half hour—”
A hand on her shoulder stopped her. “It was more than a good time in bed,” he said, his voice raw. “I’m not having the morning-after regrets. I just feel...dishonorable doing this while I’m engaged.”
She turned and looked into his eyes, so close to her, so troubled. She sighed, letting go of the remnants of anger. Not asking him where these thoughts were last night, because she knew it wasn’t just him. There’d been two people in her bed. She hadn’t wanted to make love with an engaged man...but that’s what she’d done.
“Neither of us made any promises last night. Let’s just eat.”
Before he could object, Cara returned, and the eggs were done. Holden ate breakfast with them after all, and Abby focused her attention on Cara, getting giggles and smiles from her. Even Holden was smiling at the end when he left, squeezing her hand and saying he’d call.
Then they were gone. She closed the door and leaned against it. Only then did she lower her eyelids and let herself wallow in sadness for a moment.
And another.
And another.
Her instincts were normally right, and when he’d walked into the kitchen, she’d seen the what-the-hell-did-I-do look in his eyes. He could pretty it up all he liked, but she’d seen what she’d seen, and she knew what she knew.
She sucked in a deep breath of air and headed to her office and turned on her computer.
Like a million other women who’d thought
, This man is different, she’d been wrong. So what? Too bad. She’d get over it. It was his loss. She was a wonderful lover. She was a wonderful person.
But, oh God, it hurt so bad.
The computer loaded, and she stared at it for a long moment, just feeling the ache of rejection. The ache of a bruised heart. Wondering how she could have misread him so much.
Maybe he was one of those men who, once they had something, didn’t want it anymore.
She was better off without him.
After all, they’d only known each other for a short time. For whatever reason, her body had zeroed in on him and said, This is him. This is The One.
But her body was wrong. Because The One wouldn’t be sorry after the most wonderful lovemaking in his life.
Her emotions numb, she opened her email. It was either that or curl up and cry, and she’d done enough of that in her life already.
She deleted the first three emails from places trying to sell her things and sent another one to spam. The next one said “Angel Investor,” sent by a man whose name she vaguely recognized. She read it, but the words didn’t sink in, her mind numbed along with her heart. She read it again, and still nothing. The third time, the words finally got through to her mind. She blinked and read it again. Then a fifth time to see if it really said what she thought it did.
Oh God. Oh my God.
She put her hand to her mouth.
Oh God, oh God, oh God, oh God.
She picked up the phone and pressed a familiar number.
19
Ryan came into Holden’s living room with his I-know-I-was-bad-but-I can’t-help-it look and three puzzles for Cara. Holden crossed his arms and listened to her thank him with her small voice as she stared with rapture at the puzzle with the princess, castle, rainbow, and unicorn. All it was missing was a kitten, but she had her own live one and didn’t need one made of layers of cardboard.
Still in his generous-uncle mode, Ryan helped her open the box, telling her it was a floor puzzle. As she dumped the pieces on the rug, Ryan turned to Holden.
“Beware of Greeks bearing gifts,” Holden said.
“Hey, it’s a unicorn, not a Trojan horse. And we need to talk.”
