Between Now and Forever

by Barbara Freethy

  "Not the best review I've gotten—also not the worst," he said lightly.

  "It was great," she said. "How is that song not on the radio?"

  "Maybe someday it will be."

  She tilted her head as she studied his expression, wondering where the depth of emotion in the song had come from. "I thought you said you played rock."

  "My band is rock. I do some Indie stuff that's different."

  "Where did the lyrics come from?"

  He shrugged. "I have no idea."

  "They felt personal."

  "There's something personal about all my songs."

  "You're not going to tell me, are you?"

  "I let my songs speak for themselves. But I will play you another one, if you want."

  "I want," she replied, her curiosity piqued by his evasiveness. If his songs did the talking for him, maybe she'd find a clue in the next tune. Not that she needed another mystery to solve. But concentrating on Sean was a lot better than thinking about Kyle and what he was going through right now.

  * * *

  While Ryan showered, Nicole threw on a pair of leggings and a sweater. She towel-dried her hair and ran a brush through the tangles, then she picked up the room service folder to look at the menu, but she couldn't focus on it. She kept thinking about Ryan, about their conversation, about the brief kiss they'd shared. And then her mind strayed to the fact that he was naked in the shower and she remembered how much fun they'd had together under a hot spray before.

  Shaking her head, she tried to change the images running through her mind. But she couldn't seem to concentrate. She was feeling tingly and a little nervous about the idea of Ryan coming out of the bathroom, probably dressed only in a towel, because he hadn't taken any clean clothes in with him, and she had used the only robe in the room.

  It was ridiculous. She'd seen him naked a million times. She'd kissed and touched every inch of his body. She knew everything about him, so why did she suddenly feel like a teenager again? Like every casual glance, every word that he spoke, every smile that he gave her was somehow incredibly important and earth-shattering?

  She hadn't been that girl in a very long time. She'd barely remembered that girl before tonight. She'd been too caught up in being superwoman, just like Ryan had said.

  But she wasn't feeling much like a wife or a mother right now, the two labels that had defined her life for the past ten years; she was feeling like a woman, a restless, edgy, tense woman, whose barriers had come down with her earlier storm of tears.

  She needed to get those walls back up. She needed to protect herself, because Ryan had brought her joy but also incredible pain. Wouldn't it be smarter—safer—to let him go? He was already living somewhere else. And while their problems might have been more clearly communicated, they weren't gone. Their son was still missing, still autistic. What had really changed?

  She'd changed and Ryan had, too. They'd started to remember who they used to be.

  Could they be those people again? Was it too late?

  The questions ran around and around in her head. She had no answers, only mixed emotions, and at the heart of the chaos in her mind and her body was desire, attraction, a longing for an intimate connection…

  Shaking her head, she told herself to stop fantasizing about Ryan.

  Then the bathroom door opened and Ryan walked out, just the way she'd imagined.

  The towel hung low on his narrow hips. Beads of water clung to his muscled abs and the fine dark hair that covered his chest. His long legs peeked out from beneath the small towel, and her mind immediately wanted to lift that towel.

  He stared back at her, and judging by the way his dark eyes suddenly glittered with gold sparks, he'd read her mind.

  She licked her lips, feeling like she was standing on the edge of a cliff. And she wanted to jump; she wanted to fly.

  Ryan walked towards her. She told herself to move, to back up, to say something, anything to break the look between them.

  She couldn't seem to speak. All she could do was look at him and feel a shivering need to get closer.

  He stopped right in front of her. She could smell his aftershave. As he moved his head, a drop of water landed on her mouth. She licked her lips, feeling as if she were tasting him, but it was just water, she thought, feeling a little desperate. There were so many sensations running through her, so many reckless thoughts.

  "Nicole," he said, his voice deep and husky.

  How she remembered that voice, and the way he'd say her name—so many different ways, sometimes a soft caress, then an impatient demand, a cry of satisfaction, a promise of love.

  She was in trouble. She needed to fight, to listen to her brain instead of her body, but her heart was getting in the middle, reminding her of how long and how much she'd loved this man.

  Ryan moved closer, his chest brushing her breasts, a light, feathering, teasing touch. And then his hands were on her hips, and his head was coming closer.

  She couldn't move. She needed his kiss as much as she needed air. Just one kiss, she told herself. Then she'd stop, then she'd come to her senses—

  His mouth came down on hers, the pressure firm and oh so familiar. His lips were warm and seductive, yet minty and cool, a heady, dangerous combination.

  And Ryan knew just the way she liked to be kissed with seductive purpose. His hands cupped her face, holding her still for an onslaught of pleasure. He nipped at her lips, then slid his tongue inside. She opened up for him as their tongues tangled together in a long, slow dance of love.

  She wanted to get closer, to feel every heated inch of his body against hers. Reason was long gone. Her nerves were on fire. Her body tingled with anticipation. This was her man, her lover, the other part of herself. And she was meant to be his. She wanted everything he wanted—and more.

  Desire ran through her as he devoured her mouth, as he whispered her name in a way that made shivers run down her spine. Every kiss was a taste of heaven. And any last lingering doubts slid away—along with his towel.

  She gasped as he pulled her into the cradle of his hips, as she felt his erection, his need. And then he lifted his head and looked at her. The long, tense look stirred her senses even more. She could feel herself trembling.

  "Nicole?" he said, a question in his voice.

  "Yes." She wasn't even sure what he was asking her; she just knew the answer was yes to anything he might want.

  He reached for the hem of her sweater and pulled it up and over her head, tossing it on to the bed. She pulled off her leggings, her thong coming off at the same time, and then Ryan was flicking open the clasp of her bra and pulling it off her shoulders.

  Her full breasts spilled out, so pale against his tanned hands, her nipples peaking with the touch of his fingers. He walked her back toward the bed. They tumbled onto the mattress together, his body covering hers.

  He moved his mouth from her lips to the side of her neck, the sensitive spot just beneath her ear, and he took his time.

  Ryan could be so impatient in every other aspect of life, but when it came to making love, he was never in a hurry. In fact, she was usually the impatient once, feeling a need now to urge him on, to get his mouth on her breasts, his hand between her legs.

  But he wouldn't be hurried, and deep down she loved the way he savored every inch of her body, making each nerve tingle with pleasure before moving onto the next. With his body pressing hers against the pillows, she could do little more than hold on to him and run her hands up and down the hard muscles of his back and buttocks.

  Eventually, his mouth reached her breasts, and she arched up against him, sighing with delight as his tongue swirled around her nipples, laving, then nipping and tugging, until she moved her legs restlessly under his.

  "Faster," she murmured.

  He lifted his head to give her a knowing smile. "No way. I have you right where I want you."

  "What about where I want you?"

  "We'll get there." He pressed a kiss on her abdome
n.

  "Ryan, I need you," she said. "Now."

  His gaze met hers, no humor left in his eyes, only desire. "I need you, too," he whispered, as he pulled her hips into his and slid into her.

  They moved together in perfect harmony, the time apart only making their desire greater. Tension built within her with each thrust, each retreat, until she was shaking and crying out his name.

  As he reached his own release, she wrapped her arms around him and held on tight. She didn't want to break the connection. She didn't want to let him go. She didn't want to think beyond this incredible, mind-blowing moment. So she closed her eyes and cherished the quiet, the stillness, wishing it would never end.

  But of course it did end.

  A few minutes later, Ryan rolled over on to his side, letting out a breath. He put his arm around her waist and pulled her onto her side to face him.

  He stroked her cheek with his fingers, his gaze tender and loving. "You're so beautiful, Nic."

  Her heart swelled. He hadn't looked at her like this in a very long time.

  "I missed you," he added. "You don't know how much."

  "I do know how much, because I missed you, too."

  He kissed her again, a brief caress that made her feel cherished.

  Ryan rested his head on the pillow, his eyes drifting shut. She looked at his face for a long minute, enjoying the way a strand of hair fell across his forehead, the strong planes of his face, and his sensuous mouth. She'd watched him sleep a hundred times, and she'd always loved having him in her bed, having his hand rest on her hip as he slept, exactly the way it did now.

  But all those other times she hadn't had to worry about what was coming next, what would happen in the morning.

  With her physical needs fulfilled, her brain was firing back up again, and she was plagued with uncertainty and a little guilt that she could find pleasure, be happy, while her child was missing.

  Her sigh brought Ryan's eyes open. His hand tightened on her hip. "Don't do it, Nicole."

  "What are you talking about?"

  "Don't start having regrets already."

  "I don't regret it. I just…"

  "Feel guilty," he finished. He let out a sigh and rolled on his back, his hand falling away from her hip. He stared at the ceiling, his expression hard and a bit angry.

  "I'm sorry," she said.

  After a moment, he said, "Yeah, I know."

  But as they lay in silence, she had a feeling he didn't understand at all. She sat up, pulling the comforter off the bottom of the bed up and over her body. "Ryan." She waited for him to look at her.

  "What?" he asked.

  And with that one word, she felt as if they were as far apart as they'd ever been. It was her fault. She'd driven them apart with her guilt, making Ryan feel as if he'd done something wrong. And he hadn't.

  "I wanted you," she said. "And I don't regret being with you."

  Surprise passed through his eyes. "Okay," he said warily. "And the guilt?"

  "Doesn't change what I just said." She paused. "I really have missed you, missed us. We were good together."

  "I think we just proved that we still are good together." His tension eased as a smile turned up the corners of his mouth. "Give me a few minutes, and we can prove it again."

  She smiled back at him and stretched out next to his body, resting her head on his chest as his arm came around her shoulders. She closed her eyes as emotion and exhaustion drove everything else out of her head. She'd worry about tomorrow later. Tonight she was going to be with Ryan.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Sunday morning, Ryan woke up a little after seven. Faint rays of sun were coming through the slits in the blinds, bathing Nicole in soft, morning light. Her blonde hair fell in waves across the pillow and around her shoulders. Her cheeks were pink from sleep, and her lips looked warm and inviting. He hadn't meant to sleep all night. He'd wanted to make love to her again, but the pace of the past few days had caught up with him.

  They'd caught up with her, too, he thought, as he watched her sleep. She'd needed this rest, and so had he.

  But he couldn't help thinking he'd missed an opportunity to have her again, because he had a feeling that the light of day was going to put them back to where they'd been, separated and distant, and that's the last thing he wanted.

  Nicole began to stir. Her lids flickered, and a sigh passed through her parted lips. Then her eyes opened. She blinked a few times, giving him a sleepy smile. "Ryan," she said. "What time is it?"

  "Seven."

  She blinked again, awareness coming into her eyes. "It's morning already? We slept for like—"

  "Eleven hours," he finished.

  "My phone?" She glanced around. "Where's my phone?"

  He tipped his head toward her purse. "Probably in your bag."

  She scrambled out of bed, pulling the comforter around her naked body as she walked across the room to retrieve her phone. She grabbed it out of her bag and said, "No calls. No messages." She glanced up at him. "I wish that made me happier."

  "Today is a new day."

  He got up and pulled on some boxers and a pair of jeans as Nicole moved across the room to open the blinds.

  "It's sunny," she said as he came up behind her. "And beautiful."

  He put his arms around her waist. "Kind of like you."

  She turned in his embrace and gave him a smile. "Charming so early in the morning?"

  "I had a good night, and I'm not just talking about the sleep."

  Her cheeks warmed with his comment. He liked that she could still be shy around him, but that was just Nicole—his Nicole.

  "We should order breakfast," she said.

  "Are you trying to change the subject?"

  "I'm not trying—I am changing the subject. What do you want? Eggs, pancakes, waffles?"

  "What if I said you?"

  Her tongue darted out, and she licked her lips. "Ryan, we can't."

  "Can't or shouldn't?"

  "Both. We need to focus again. And I can't do that when you're kissing me. In fact, it would be really helpful if you'd put on a shirt."

  "Me? I'm the problem? You do know that I can see your breasts through the holes in that blanket you're wearing."

  "I'm getting dressed now, so let me go."

  He didn't want to let her go—now or ever. "Nic," he said, his arms tightening around her. He couldn't find the right words to express what he wanted to say, so he settled for a kiss, a long, meaningful kiss that he hoped would tell her what he couldn't.

  She swallowed hard as they broke apart. "Why don't you order breakfast while I get dressed," she suggested. "You know what I like."

  He did know what she liked when it came to breakfast, but what she liked in him wasn't quite as clear. He knew he could make her happy in bed, and there had been a time when he could make her happy everywhere else. But that time had passed. Could they get it back?

  She'd turned to him last night for comfort. He was smart enough to know that. She'd had an emotional breakdown, and he'd been happy to give her what she needed, because he'd needed her, too, but he wanted more than that going forward.

  It would take some work. They'd both lost trust in each other, and they needed to rebuild that trust. He'd start by ordering her favorite breakfast.

  * * *

  Nicole took a long shower, needing time to get her head together. She'd been so tempted to follow Ryan back into bed, and lose herself in his arms for another hour, but it was smarter to put the night behind them and move forward in their search for Brandon. Surely, they'd hear from Jessica's friend, Kara, sometime today, and hopefully the police would be successful in getting the adoption records opened. Those were the matters she needed to be thinking about.

  But as she soaped her body in the hot, steamy shower, she couldn't help remembering how great it had been with Ryan. She could still feel his hands on her breasts, still taste him on her lips. He'd always known how to love her in just the right way.

  Bu
t what about the other parts of their lives?

  After yesterday's very honest and eye-opening conversation, she'd realized some truths about herself and the way she'd treated Ryan after Brandon got sick.

  And Ryan was willing to accept blame, too. They'd both made mistakes. They'd been trying to handle a really difficult situation to the best of their abilities, but their best hadn't been very good. Instead of coming together, they'd split apart. And they'd hurt each other.

  She'd never meant to hurt Ryan, and she knew that he hadn't wanted to hurt her. But that's exactly what they'd done.

  They could do better. They would do better, she silently vowed. They just needed to bring Brandon home, so they could prove that.

  With new resolve, she turned off the water and stepped out of the shower. She dried off, wrapped herself in a towel and pulled a brush through her hair. Then she used the blow drier until her hair was damp and a little curly. She didn't have time for styling, so she grabbed a band out of her make-up case and pulled her hair up in a ponytail.

  When she returned to the bedroom, she realized that breakfast had already arrived. Ryan was sitting at the table, munching on a piece of bacon.

  "That smells good," she said, grabbing some clothes out of her suitcase.

  "I got blueberry waffles. Apparently, they're a specialty," Ryan said.

  "And one of my favorites," she said, as she pulled on jeans and a sweater.

  "I also got some eggs benedict and crispy bacon. I told them to cook it well and then cook it some more, the way you like it."

  She buttoned her jeans and walked over to the table. "It looks perfect. The food came fast," she added, as she sat down across from him.

  "Not really. You were in the shower a long time."

  "I didn't realize," she said.

  For several minutes they just ate. Nicole hadn't realized how hungry she was until she'd cleaned her plate. But then again, they'd skipped dinner the night before, so it shouldn't have been a surprise.

  As she sat back in her seat, she wiped her mouth and said, "I wonder where Sean is. I feel a little guilty for abandoning him. I don’t even know if he has enough money to rent a room."