Now she had to speak. Before he could get another word out, she squeezed his hand and got his attention. “But you’re wrong.”
He didn’t seem to understand what she was talking about.
“I do want to go on this trip to paint—I’m not going to deny that—but…Owen, I’m attracted to you too. I’ve enjoyed getting to know you, and the more time we spend together, the more I want to spend with you. I was afraid maybe you didn’t want me on the trip because I wasn’t smart enough or—”
She never got to finish.
Owen closed the distance between them and cupped her face in his hands as his lips claimed hers.
* * *
Good Lord, she tasted sweeter than he had imagined.
Her lips were so soft, and when she sighed and leaned into him, Owen knew he had made the right decision. He skimmed her cheeks with the backs of his fingers and marveled at how she felt. Brooke’s hand came up and rested on his chest before moving to his shoulders and around his neck.
They were pressed together chest to chest, and Owen cursed the fact that he had made his move in a parked car, like he was fifteen and on his first date.
Not that he’d dated at fifteen, but he knew boys who had.
Focus!
The woman in his arms was like a fantasy, a dream, and just knowing she was as attracted to him as he was to her was a very potent aphrodisiac. It wouldn’t take much for him to sit here all night and continue to kiss and touch her, but it wasn’t the right place for them.
And probably not the right time.
Slowly he broke the kiss and rested his forehead against hers, and they both caught their breath.
“Wow,” she sighed.
No woman had ever reacted that way to his kisses, and before he knew it, he tilted his head and captured her lips again. Brooke kissed him back with equal fervor, and he shifted his arms the best he could, so she was almost cradled in them, and then marveled at how perfectly she fit there.
Images flashed in his head of taking her up to his hotel room. To his bed. The images were so vivid that he had to wonder if the two of them hadn’t moved and were in fact there already. A car door slamming nearby told him they hadn’t, and he reluctantly ended the kiss.
Again.
“I have a feeling if we don’t stop now, we’re going to start giving the people walking by quite a show,” he said, placing one last kiss on her lips. They slowly broke apart and straightened in their seats. He was going to apologize but quickly dismissed the idea. He wasn’t sorry. Kissing her had been the most impulsive thing he’d ever done, and he didn’t regret it for one minute. He couldn’t.
“I don’t know about you,” Brooke said, “but I can definitely use a little something to drink.” She picked up her purse and opened the door. Looking over her shoulder at him, she smiled. “You ready?”
That was a loaded question. He was more than ready—for whatever she wanted. Rather than comment, he nodded, climbed out of the car, and walked around to meet her. Without conscious thought, he took her hand, and together they walked into the hotel. Owen paused in the lobby.
“The bar is closed, but we can grab something to drink from the store and sit if you’d like.” He realized he should have remembered this before coming back to the hotel. He chose to stay here because it was clean and the rooms had kitchenettes, but it was far from being an upscale hotel. They could always go up to his room—it did have a comfortable living area—but after the kisses they’d just shared, he wasn’t sure if that was a smart idea. He didn’t want Brooke to feel like he was pressuring her in any way.
“That sounds fine,” she said softly, her hand still in his.
Owen knew he wasn’t going to be the one to break the contact. He was enjoying it. Probably more than he should. After purchasing a couple bottles of water, a bag of pretzels, and a candy bar—which Brooke had bashfully asked for—they walked back out to the lobby and sat down on one of the sofas. They sat in awkward silence as other hotel guests came and went—loudly—and Owen turned to Brooke and threw out a suggestion.
“It’s completely okay if you say no to this, but…would you like to come upstairs with me? To my room?”
Her eyes went wide, and he felt an instant of panic.
“Just to talk—like we said,” he added quickly. “It’s very loud down here, and I just thought…but maybe it’s late and you want to head home. It’s fine. Really. Maybe we can see each other tomorrow. I was planning on touring some of the museums this weekend if you’re interested. The weather is supposed to be fair, and we could walk around the city. And—”
“Owen?”
“Hmm?”
“You’re rambling,” she said with a small smile. “And in answer to your question…well, one of them, I would like to go upstairs with you. I agree. It’s rather noisy, and every time someone comes in or goes out, the cool air comes in, and it’s chilly.”
He instantly stood and held out his hand. “You’re sure it’s not too late?”
Brooke shook her head. “I don’t have a curfew, and I don’t think it’s too late. I’m a night owl. If I were home, or at my uncle’s, I would be watching a movie or reading a book or playing Scrabble on my tablet.”
They rode the elevator while talking about books—she told him about the latest Nora Roberts book she had just finished, and he told her the plot of the James Patterson book he had just downloaded.
“Uncle Howard’s reading that one too,” she told him.
And the conversation didn’t stop there. They settled into his room with little more than a brief acknowledgment from Brooke that it was a nice space. Sitting on the sofa, they compared their interests not only in books but in movies, food, and hobbies. Owen already knew of her love of painting, but he found it fascinating when she shared her “mini-obsession”—her words—with word games and computer solitaire. He had to admit he occasionally played solitaire, but normally when he was on his computer or tablet, it was for work and research purposes.
But what he was finding most interesting about Brooke was the way she spoke so passionately about the things she did—whether it was something as big and profound as her art or as minute as playing a game of Scrabble. She found joy in it all, and it made him wish he were more like her. Science was his life, and it was fulfilling, but Owen couldn’t say for certain if it gave him joy.
“You’re frowning,” Brooke said, interrupting his thoughts. “What are you thinking about?”
“I was sitting here thinking about you,” he said, and when her expression fell, he realized how what he said could have been interpreted. “I’m sorry! That…that didn’t come out right.” He chuckled. “What I meant was I was sitting here listening to you, and you’re so…passionate about all of the things you do, and I realized that while I’m passionate about my work and the things I do in my spare time, it’s not a joyful passion.” He paused. “I’m not even sure I’d know what that felt like.”
She studied him for a long moment—long enough that he started to squirm in his seat. “What makes you laugh?”
“Excuse me?”
She laughed softly. “Tell me something that makes you laugh—it can be a television show, a comedian, someone you know…just anything you know that makes you laugh.”
It seemed like a simple question, but Owen was surprised when he couldn’t recall anything right away. Panic started to set in because he realized how odd it was going to sound. After all, who had to think about what they found amusing?
Brooke put her hand on his thigh. “I am a sucker for romantic comedies. I don’t like anything that goes for cheap gags or slapstick, but if I sit down to watch a movie, that’s my go-to because I know it will make me laugh and feel good by the end of the movie.”
Her logic made sense. “This shouldn’t be so hard, right? I’m overthinking it.”
She leaned ba
ck on the sofa, and Owen instantly missed the feel of her hand on him. “Maybe just a little,” she teased. “How about something that makes you happy?”
“My family,” he said without hesitation. His answer must have pleased her because she was smiling again. “I guess they make me laugh too—sometimes at myself, but that’s a given. When I go home to visit, there’s always a lot of laughing, and sometimes I don’t quite get the joke, but I laugh with them because…it feels good. And in the past couple of years, it seems like there’s a lot more laughter in our family—probably because we’ve grown so much.”
He didn’t look over at her because he was remembering his visit home the previous month. Hugh and Aubrey’s son, Connor, was a very active two-year-old who loved to climb, and Owen remembered watching Hugh running after him most of the time.
That had made him laugh.
Then there was sweet baby Lily—Aidan and Zoe’s daughter. They had her dressed in a frilly outfit that almost seemed bigger than she was, and as she toddled around trying to learn how to walk, she would eventually fall in a big pouf of fabric. She was incredibly sweet and adorable, and she’d look at him with a big, wet grin and clap her hands whenever she fell.
That had made him laugh.
Soon Quinn and Anna’s baby would be here, and the thought of his ultra-macho brother trying to handle a tiny baby had him laughing right then.
“Aha!” Brooke said with a chuckle. “I knew you’d think of something. Out with it! What’s making you laugh?”
He told her about Quinn’s personality and how he and his wife were expecting a baby. “It seemed natural for Hugh and Aidan to become fathers—they’re both nurturing, and they did a lot to help raise the rest of us. But Quinn?” He couldn’t help but chuckle again. “Let’s just say the entire family is going to get a kick out of watching him.”
“He may surprise you all. This could be something to teach him a little humility.”
That made Owen laugh even more. “I have to admit he has softened a bit since he and Anna finally got together. It’s been a fascinating transformation. But I still think this baby is going to challenge him more than he thinks.”
“Babies definitely can do that. It’s hard to believe such a tiny being can wreak so much havoc on the adults around him.” She laughed. “Or her.”
Owen was about to comment on that when Brooke moved closer and put her head on his shoulder. He cleared his throat quietly and rested his head on hers. “Any babies in your family?”
She shook her head. “Nope. Although I think my parents would love that. They just recently started talking about it. Some of their friends have become grandparents in the past few years, and it’s made them start campaigning for their own grandchildren.” She started to reach for her snack, but Owen got it for her, handing her the water and the chocolate bar. “Thank you.”
As they sat in silence, Owen wondered about her family. She didn’t talk about them much, but then he figured maybe he just spoke about his more than the average person because he had such a large family. He looked down and saw a piece of chocolate being offered to him. Brooke’s delicate hand was mere inches from his mouth. Was he supposed to take it from her hand with his or simply…bite it?
He opted for biting, and as he took the sweet chocolate into his mouth, his lips grazed her fingers, and he heard her gasp softly beside him.
But not in a bad way.
His heart rate kicked up, and as he slowly finished chewing, he reached up, took her hand, and brought her fingers close to his lips. He swallowed and then kissed her fingertips, licking the spot where there was still a bit of chocolate, and heard Brooke moan.
Sexiest sound ever.
As if of one mind, they maneuvered until Brooke was in his arms, and then he was kissing her again. His lips claimed hers, and this time it was so much better, he thought. Without having the car console between them, he could feel her—every sweet curve, every delicate inch of her was curled against him—and it was a heady sensation. Owen had never considered himself to be big or strong like his brothers, but with Brooke in his arms, he did. He wrapped his arms around her as she looped hers around his neck. If he died right now, he’d die satisfied.
It was humbling to think that this beautiful and amazing woman wanted him. Him. Nerdy Owen Shaughnessy. And then all rational thought left him as her hands raked into his hair, gently scratching his scalp, and she moved to be almost fully in his lap.
There was no way for him to hide the effect she was having on him. He didn’t want to. And if it shocked her or bothered her, she didn’t let on.
Their kisses intensified, became more and more urgent. His tongue teased and tangled with hers as he pulled her closer—and yet he couldn’t seem to get her close enough. He needed to breathe—to get air into his lungs—but the thought of not kissing her was almost painful. When at last he couldn’t take it, his lips left hers and trailed across her cheek, down the slender column of her throat. Owen’s hand tangled in her long, silky hair as she arched back to give him better access to all the places he was trying to reach.
She whispered his name.
She begged for him to touch her.
And he knew there was a bed in the next room. It would take less than a minute to get them there.
But he couldn’t move. Not now. Not yet. Instead, his hands began to move, skimming along her spine and around to her rib cage. He gently squeezed her waist and marveled at her curves. He stayed in that spot until he could control himself while his mouth nipped at the sensitive spot where her neck and shoulder met. He felt her shiver, heard her breath hiss, and he became almost obsessed with seeing and feeling all of her responses.
To him.
He’d never held such a responsive woman in his arms. Never felt as overwhelming a need for someone as he felt right now. It was hot… It was heady… It was erotic. It was…
Brooke moaned, took his hand in hers, and placed it on her breast, and they both seemed to gasp with a mixture of pleasure and pain. Unable to help himself, he lifted his head and looked at her—took in her flushed skin, her parted lips and closed eyes—and she made a very desirable picture. He almost wished he had the ability to paint because this…this woman in his arms…was the most exquisite piece of art he’d ever seen.
As if sensing his stare, Brooke opened her eyes and looked at him. Her eyes were bright, glazed, and she reached a hand around his nape and pulled him in for another kiss—deeper, hotter, and wetter than the last. She kissed him as if she needed him to breathe, needed him like she didn’t need anything—or anyone—else. And it was enough of a confirmation that he knew what he had to do. Owen licked her lips one last time before raising his head and whispering her name on a sigh.
She looked at him as she caught her breath and he caressed her cheek.
“It’s very late,” he murmured.
She nodded.
“I don’t want you to leave.”
She licked her lips, and he had to stop himself before he groaned.
“I don’t want to leave.”
She was killing him.
He swallowed hard. “I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but—”
“You always say what you mean, Owen.” Her voice was a mere whisper.
“I want you to stay. I want to take you into the bedroom and take you to bed and make love to you.”
“I want that too.”
This time he did groan. And then he shook his head. “But we can’t.”
Her eyes widened a little. “Can’t?”
Relaxing a little, he continued to caress her cheek. “I don’t think we should. Not tonight.”
Now she frowned slightly. “But you want me to stay.” It wasn’t a question.
“I do.” He paused. “Even if we just curl up together and watch TV or talk. I just want to hold you. Maybe that’s selfish of me, but�
�it’s how I feel.”
Slowly, Brooke pushed herself up from his lap and looked at him as if she was considering her options. For a minute, Owen wasn’t sure what he was expecting her to say. Was she upset that he didn’t want them to make love? Would she opt to leave and go home?
“Do I get a say in this?” she asked.
And all he could do was nod.
Without a word, she stood, but she didn’t move away immediately, and again it left him to wonder at what it was that she wanted.
And then she held out her hand to him. “Is there a TV in the bedroom?”
Again, all he could do was nod. But he placed his hand in hers and stood.
And let her lead him to the other room.
* * *
“Maybe this was a mistake.”
“How can you say that? I think it’s great.”
“It’s just so…crowded.”
“What were you expecting? It’s a Saturday.”
They walked hand in hand through the Museum of Science and Industry, and while Brooke was having a great time, Owen clearly wasn’t so sure. Pulling him into a small alcove, she faced him. “There is nothing wrong with it being crowded,” she reminded him. “It’s because this is an amazing place.”
“There are a lot of kids. I didn’t think of this as a kids’ place.”
“Owen, kids love science.”
“Not when I was a kid.”
“Yes, even when you were a kid, they loved it. They just didn’t have the same level of appreciation that you did.”
At first she thought he was going to argue with her, and she was pleasantly relieved when he didn’t. “I guess I never looked at it that way.”
“Stick with me, and I’ll help you see that not everything is negative.”
“There are still a lot of people here. I couldn’t even get near that coal mine exhibit.”
And she knew he was disappointed about that one because he’d mentioned it several times. “How about we go and catch the movie on the national parks?” she asked, hoping to distract him. “It’s on an OMNIMAX screen, which is supposed to be pretty impressive. What do you say?”
A Sky Full of Stars Page 12
