by JM Stewart
Kyle stood silent and unmoving. Tension radiated from him. Even in the darkness, she could see the stiff way he held himself. He didn’t say a word, and she got the distinct impression he wasn’t going to. They’d come to a standoff.
Frustration sang through her. The only way to get rid of these unwanted feelings, these confusing, often irrational ideas, was to put them out there, talk them through the way they always did. Only now she was also driven by raging pregnancy hormones. One moment she wanted their friendship to continue, the next she wanted him beside her, on top of her, inside of her, and next to her when she woke up every morning.
She looked up at him, praying he couldn’t read her muddled thoughts. When had he come to mean so much? Or had her hormones simply ramped up her libido, making him the object of her affections?
Poor Kyle. If she told him what her hormones were whispering and humming through her bloodstream, he’d head for the hills and never look back, just like Jimmy had. No, if there was one thing she knew, Kyle was the one man who’d stick by her. Their twenty-year friendship had taught her that. But how did she convince him that talking was the only way they’d get through this? How did she convince a stubborn man?
Like a flash of lightning, the answer presented itself in the form of a song she’d heard once. The lyrics said the only way to know how a man truly felt about you was to kiss him. All the implications of that flooded her thoughts, and Cecelia bit her lower lip. God, could she do that? Could she kiss him, keep herself from wrapping herself around him, for the sake of getting her answer?
She had to. To plaster herself against him and seize his lips seemed insane, but if she didn’t, she’d never get the answers she needed. They’d never move past this. That kiss would forever hang over them like a black cloud. Every time he looked at her, every time she wanted to hug him, it would be there. If they were going to share parenting duties, that kiss would be an ugly wall that only added more distance between them. They had enough of that. And if this insane idea worked, it would open the lines of communication, force them to face whatever this was.
So they could finally move past it. And she needed to. She wouldn’t lose him over what amounted to muddled pregnancy hormones.
Before she lost her nerve, she closed the distance between them and pressed along his length. Every inch of her trembled, from nerves this time, and warning bells rang in her head, telling her she played in dangerous territory.
His body stiffened with surprise. His eyes widened with alarm. “What are you doing?”
She didn’t answer. Instead, she snaked a hand around the back of his neck, lifted onto her toes, and seized his mouth. Determined to get her answer, she kissed him hard.
A quiet, almost reluctant groan erupted from deep within his chest, and his large hands seized her shoulders. He wrenched his mouth from hers and set her away from him, holding her at arm’s length. His chest rose and fell at a rapid pace, matching the fierce pounding of her heart.
His eyes searched her face. “Why’d you do that?”
“I had to know . . .” She gave a miserable shake of her head. “The only way we’re going to move past this is to face it. Head-on. Gran always used to put me off, and I hated it. Please don’t do that, Kyle. I’d rather you be honest with me.”
He remained frozen in front of her, the muscle in his jaw ticking. Tension radiated off him. A fraction of a second later, his hands dropped from her shoulders and seized her waist, tugging her flush against him again. The same eyes that searched hers in confusion only moments before now darkened, taking on a rebellious glint. Every ounce of breath left her lungs.
“You want the truth? You really want to know how I feel about you, what you do to me?” His frustrated tone mocked her as his hands slid down her back. He cupped her bottom and tugged hard, grinding his hips against hers. The hard length of his arousal pressed into her belly, showing her exactly how she affected him.
A soft gasp escaped her as her intentions blew up in her face. Every inch of her trembled as a lethal dose of intense, undeniable desire snaked through her, coiling low in her belly.
“I don’t know how to be any more honest than this.” He dipped his head and brushed his lips over hers, whispering against her mouth. “You drive me crazy. Every time you look at me, touch me. Do you have any idea how hard it was to lie in bed with you Friday night? To hold you so close I felt your heartbeat but not be able to touch you like this?”
His hot mouth skimmed across her jawline, and he nipped at her earlobe. “I almost lost my mind tonight, seeing you dance, watching you watch me. You look at me like that, too, you know. Like you want me, and it makes me crazy. Then you had the nerve to wrap your arms around me. I appreciated it when you told me we’d always be friends. I was afraid I’d really screwed this up. But your breasts against my back and your hot breath on my neck are equal parts bliss and torment.”
A whimper of need left her mouth. His words, the soft touch of his hands skimming her curves, had her knees quivering. She dropped her head back, arching into the intense connection of their bodies.
“And this.” He lifted his head and traced the edge of her V neckline with the tip of his index finger. “This was the worst. You look incredible in this top, do you know that? This damn neckline teases me, gives me the barest hint of where I ache to be able to see you, to touch you.”
A shiver of need slid through her, weakening what was left of her defenses. Her body sagged into his, and his strong arms tightened around her, her fingers curling around the curves of his biceps. Oh God, she hadn’t intended to go this far. A kiss. It was only supposed to be a kiss. It was supposed to force communication; then maybe they’d laugh and talk it out and they’d get over this. They’d finally move past this and she’d get her best friend back.
What she needed to do was send him home. Letting this continue could ruin their friendship. She’d lose him, and she couldn’t do that. She just couldn’t. She was already dangerously close. With Gran gone, he was all she had. If she lost him, too, she’d be all alone.
Except she lacked the willpower to push him away. His warm, hard, deliciously male body against hers felt too good. His hard chest rubbing her aching nipples, his strong thighs brushing hers. Being in his arms lit her body on fire. All those naughty pregnancy hormones sent molten lava pumping through her veins, and all she could think or feel was how desperately she wanted him. Oh, how he made her ache. She wanted his touch on her body, yearned to feel the soft heat of his bare skin against hers.
God help her, but she wanted him, the way she’d never wanted another man in her life. Damn sure she’d never wanted Jimmy this way.
“Yes.” Despite knowing it was wrong, the word left her mouth on a soft, needy whisper.
Kyle let out a quiet, agonized groan as his lips skimmed hers again. “I won’t deny I want you. I won’t deny I’d love nothing more than to carry you inside the house and show you what making love is supposed to be like.”
His words, the raw hunger in his voice, sent a heady shiver snaking through her body. He trailed the fingers of one hand up her side, cradled her left breast in his palm, and dragged his thumb across her hardened, aching nipple.
A half-strangled whimper wrenched from her throat. Mindless with need, her body humming and riding a razor-sharp edge, she arched into his hand. Her nipple strained against the fabric of her shirt, desperate for him not to stop the delicious torture. Why hadn’t Jimmy’s hands ever felt like this? No man’s touch ever had. So good. His lips skimmed the curve of her neck, his teeth gently scraping her skin, and she tightened her grip on him, holding on for dear life.
“But I won’t.” As abruptly as he’d grabbed her, he pulled back, taking her gently by the shoulders. He set her away from him, holding her steady as she found her land legs again.
Like a bucket of ice water dumped over her head, shock settled over her. Her eyes opened. For a moment, she blinked up at him, dazed and confused. The lack of his warmth against her had a co
ld shiver raking down her spine. Disappointment and frustration wound through her. How could he do that? How could he draw her in and then push her away like that?
The answer came all too easily, however, and regret sank like a stone in her stomach. But she’d asked for this, hadn’t she? She’d asked for this, needed to know how he felt about her, demanded he tell her, and when he wouldn’t, she’d forced the issue. Now she wished she’d never asked.
“We’re so good together. You’re my best friend, and you’ve been my best friend since I was ten.” The same regret holding her prisoner took shape in his eyes. He stroked a hand over her cheek, his voice softening. “I won’t deny I want you, Ceci . . .”
He paused, something vulnerable in his eyes as they flicked over her face, searching for her reaction. It didn’t escape her notice that his breathing increased and his hands trembled. But those words from his mouth . . . Her heart stuttered to a stop as they sank over her. He was attracted to her. Somehow, she’d hoped he’d deny it. He’d kissed her, but she’d hoped he’d explain it away, that they could go back to being just friends. But to hear him actually the words . . .
Oh God.
He shook his head. “ . . . but I won’t ruin what we already have for the sake of sex. If I do, then I’ve become my father, and I won’t do that to you. You mean too much to me.”
Before she even had time to process his bold admission, the truth sank in her stomach like a stone. Tears stung behind her eyelids. He was right. Their friendship was too important to waste on lust, on a few nights, or even a few weeks of passion, however phantasmal. He was too important. The desire would eventually run out and leave their relationship shattered. She needed him as her best friend. Without him, she had nobody.
Embarrassed heat flooded her face. Pregnancy hormones had struck again. God, what he must think of her right now. . . . She was a fool. A complete and utter fool. How could she have let the moment get so far out of hand? How would she ever face him after this?
“You’re right.” With a nod, she took a step back and wrapped her arms around herself, desperate to pull herself back together. “Of course. You’re right.”
“Ceci . . .” Tenderness and sorrow etched his voice. He stepped forward, reaching out to her.
“No.” Shaking her head, she sidestepped his outstretched hand. “Please, don’t.”
She wrapped her arms tighter around herself and drew up straight. If he touched her right now, she’d crumble. She’d made enough of a fool of herself tonight.
He let out a heavy sigh, his shoulders slumping. “You’re mad.”
She darted a glance at him but couldn’t force herself to meet his gaze. She didn’t want to know, didn’t want to see whatever played in his eyes. “No, I’m not. I promise.”
“Honesty, remember?” He reached out, lifting her chin with two fingers.
“I’m sorry. I am, but I can’t just shut off my emotions. My pregnancy makes them stronger than ever, and I know you mean well, but I . . .” She shook her head, her voice wavering, stupidly close to tears she didn’t know if she had the words to explain. “I can’t bear you touching me right now. I feel like a fool. You must think I’m so stupid. I just wanted . . . Oh, it doesn’t matter. I shouldn’t have let it go that far. It hurts, okay? Of all the men I’ve dated, a rejection from you hurts, and I don’t know what to do with that. I asked for this, and now I have to deal with it, and I don’t know how.”
“I don’t think you’re a fool, Ceci. It takes guts to put it out there that way. And I can’t shut it off any better than you can.” He turned his back to her and shoved his hands into his pockets. “I’m just a little better at hiding my emotions than you are. It comes with the job. Believe me, this isn’t what I want. This is what it needs to be. You’re important to me, too, and I won’t lose you.”
The rushing, swirling river water filled the aching, tense silence. Two seconds ago they had been on the verge of making love, of getting as close as two people could get. Now they were so far apart she couldn’t see the road back to him anymore.
Any other time, he would’ve drawn her to him and enfolded her within his embrace, or at the very least have stroked her cheek and given her a tender smile that would’ve made everything okay. She wanted him to. She longed to feel the bond between them again. But everything had changed. Actions that were once common practice weren’t so simple anymore.
“So, what we do now?” Unable to bear his expression, she turned away from him, watching the fast flow of the river.
“I go home, and we pretend this never happened.” His voice lowered, soft, yet full of conviction. “I’d still like you to consider my offer. I know it won’t be easy. You’re right. This changes things between us, and it’ll take us a while to put this behind us. But I’d like us to get back what we had. Best friends. It doesn’t change how I feel, though. Your baby deserves a father. You said you wanted that.”
She couldn’t deny that. “Yes. I do, and I think it’s generous of you to offer, but what do we tell your family, Kyle? It’s going to be awkward if they think we have a child but we aren’t together. It would be like with Becca and Jackson. Now that they’re divorced, he’s no longer part of the family.” She hugged herself, for a moment lost in the ponderings. “I couldn’t bear not seeing them anymore.”
“Jackson is still very much a part of the family. He just chooses not to come. He told me once it makes him uncomfortable. But Malia always makes sure he knows he’s always welcome. He’s Allie’s father.” He finally turned to face her and stood, studying her for a long, unnerving moment, his expression hard to read. Finally, he sighed, his stance relaxing. “I don’t care what they think, and I won’t allow them to make it awkward. Not that I think they will. This is about what’s best for you and your baby. You deserve to have someone you know you can rely on, and I hope you know . . . whatever happens between us, Ceci, I will always be there for you. No matter what. You do know that, don’t you?”
She couldn’t deny that. “Yes.”
He gave her a soft smile, warmth in his eyes.
“I’m glad. Most important, your baby deserves to have a good father. Though we may have to tell everybody the truth at some point. They won’t judge you.” He paused, staring at her again. Somberness erupted in the depths of his eyes. “Promise me you’ll consider letting me take responsibility for the baby? You want this, and this is something I can easily do for you and the baby.”
She nodded. “I’ll think about it.”
“I’m going to go.” He smiled again, soft and warm, studying her for a moment, then bent and pressed a kiss to her cheek. Then he turned and moved back through the trees, heading for the house. As his tall form disappeared into the shadowy foliage, his words echoed through her mind, tormenting her.
I won’t deny I want you . . .
I’d like us to get back what we had. Best friends.
The words hung heavy in her heart. She knew he meant them, but could she even do that anymore? Did she want to? Or had what she feared already happened? Had she lost him already?
Chapter Seven
Cecelia woke with a startled gasp to a darkened room. The smell of gunpowder filled her nostrils. Her heart hammered in her ears, and her T-shirt clung to her perspiration-dampened skin. She took long, deep breaths in an attempt to slow her rapid breathing as she scanned the darkness in search of something familiar to ground her. Menacing shadows stretched and weaved along the walls, over the floor and across the ceiling, as if reaching for her. Outside, the wind whistled past the house, too reminiscent of the screams echoing through her mind.
“It was a dream.” She turned to stare at the clock, hoping it would ground her, the way it had the night she spent at Kyle’s, and repeated the mantra over and over. Terror refused to release its hold on her chest. The muted red numbers of her clock read 3:05, the color reminding her of the blood. Of the awful eyes that stared blankly back at her. God, she’d never seen the eyes before. They stared at her, c
old and lifeless.
Four days had passed since the night at the river. Each morning Kyle called before she left for work to chat and see how she was doing, or so he always said. It was a step in the right direction for them, but all her mind ever concentrated on was his voice, still husky from sleep. It still sent tingles down her spine. Would things ever be the same between them?
The dark shape of her phone resting beside the clock taunted her. It teased her with what she wanted so badly her hands shook. To call Kyle. The simple sound of his voice used to calm her. Would it now? Could she even do that anymore, call her best friend at three in the morning because she needed him?
His words that night floated into her mind. She couldn’t forget them. I won’t deny I want you. . . .
She closed her eyes, and the images from her dream flashed before her, as if in some awful form of an answer. The sightless eyes. The blood seeping across the carpet. The fear that gripped her chest so tightly she couldn’t breathe. It always left her wondering what was real and what was a dream, and she always woke in a sweat-filled panic, forgetting for a moment where she was. It was a dream. It had to be.
Then how come those sightless eyes made her chest ache?
The thought taunted her, and tears pricked behind her eyelids. Unable to resist, she opened her eyes and snatched her phone off the nightstand. With trembling fingers, she found Kyle’s number in her favorites, then rolled onto her back, heart thumping, and stared at the ceiling as the line rang. It was late. Chances were, he was asleep.
“Morgan.”
A single word, but his deep voice washed over her, wrapping around her like the soothing comfort of a warm blanket. Her mind drew up an image of them, as they’d been that night she lay in his bed. In his arms. The tension gripping her chest finally released, and more tears, grateful ones this time, filled her eyes. This had to stop.
