by Patty Blount
“Take a sip.”
When she did, he took the glass, put it on the counter and covered her hand with his. “Now tell me why you’re doing this to yourself.”
“Why I—what?”
The expression of outrage and confusion on her face had him biting back a grin. “Come on, Kara. You’ve obviously decided you have to feel guilty because you don’t feel guilty. Why?”
“I’m her mother, Reid—”
“Yes. I know. You’re also a financial advisor who holds two graduate degrees,” he said, mimicking the way she’d given him that information weeks earlier. “You enjoy your work. You’re good at it. This Saxon guy is a big deal. So I repeat, why are you forcing yourself into a guilt trip?”
“Because I’m supposed to want to be with my daughter.” She flung up her arms and spun around, strode to the sofa and collapsed on it.
“Who told you that?”
Her eyes snapped to his, and then away. “Nobody. It’s just—”
“It’s just bull-”
“Reid!” Kara looked pointedly at her daughter.
He joined her on the sofa. “Kara, didn’t you tell me your mother worked outside the home?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, so where is this 1950’s sitcom ideal of yours coming from?” When she didn’t reply, he added, “You worked hard to finish college, pass whatever tests you needed for certification, and you love the work. All of that is part of who you are.”
She looked at him sideways. “A few weeks ago, you were yelling at me for not putting my kid first. Now you’re telling me it’s who I am?”
He nodded. “I was wrong, Kara. Wrong to yell at you the way I did and wrong to judge. You’re doing what’s right for you and what’s right for your daughter. That’s all that matters and that’s all you should care about. Now finish the wine. I got this.” He waved a hand toward the food.
“I can’t. I have to get Nadia ready for bed. But this looks good. Thanks for bringing it over.” She forked up a bite of the sautéed vegetables, swallowed it and groaned, the sound sending blood gleefully out of his head.
Reid grabbed Nadia’s pink plate, spooned some vegetables and a dumpling and piece of chicken onto it. He carefully cut up everything into chunks. “Nadia, hungry?”
She nodded once and he laughed. It really was adorable. Reid took two plates to the coffee table and Kara took one. They sat on the floor and ate in silence. Nadia popped a green bean chunk into her mouth and made a face.
“Hmm. Okay, not a green bean fan. Try this one, Nadia.” Reid pointed to the chicken.
“Yum!” Nadia said.
“Another new word? Wow.”
Kara smiled tightly. “Yeah. Wow.”
Reid’s brow furrowed. Apparently, there was still more guilt. “Okay, Kara.” He put his fork down. “One thing you need to know about having a kid? They don’t stay little.”
She speared him with a look that would have killed a lesser man, he was sure.
“I know you hate it, but your job as her mom is to prepare her to separate from you when she’s old enough. Look at her progress in just one week!” He waved a hand. “She’s more verbal and not as wild. That doesn’t mean she doesn’t adore her mommy, and it doesn’t mean she’s forgotten who you are.”
Her eyes welled up and she dropped her fork to bury her face in her hands and Reid knew he’d hit the target. He pulled her into his arms and stroked the soft blond hair. “You’re giving your daughter exactly what she needs.”
“Mama.” Nadia crawled over, patted Kara’s back.
Kara immediately snapped up and wiped her eyes, but Reid muscled her back. “Hold on.” He held out his other hand to Nadia and drew her in. “Mommy’s sad, Nadia. What should we do?”
Nadia kissed her mother’s forehead.
Kara blinked and then met Reid’s gaze.
“Oh, you’re a good girl to take care of Mommy,” he told the baby. “Kara, you don’t have to protect her from everything. It’s good to let her see real life once in a while.”
Kara shook her head. “I never saw my mom cry or lose her temper. I don’t think I ever even saw her sweat.”
Oh, boy. That explained so much. Reid nodded. “After my brother died, my sisters used to want to talk all the friggin’ time about how wonderful he was. All the jokes he told, all the great things he did, you know?”
Kara nodded. “Yes, my brothers and Elena and I do the same thing.”
“You know what we never do?”
Kara ran a hand down Nadia’s hair and shook her head. “What?”
“We never ever talk about the bad stuff. And trust me, Kyle did some pretty horrible sh—uh, stuff. It’s like grief erases all of that, you know? Even if you could talk about it, you discover you can’t remember half of it anyway, so what’s the point?”
Kara tilted her head, quirked an eyebrow. “Yeah. What is the point?”
He smirked. “The point is that memories are faulty things to begin with. Factor in grief and missing somebody so much, it feels like part of you is missing, too… well, memories get reduced to these Hallmark card things, a few pithy words, no—”
“Pithy?”
“Yes, I know what it means. Shut up.” Reid tickled the back of her neck. “As I was saying, memories lose clarity, you know?”
Kara smiled halfway and nodded. She pressed Nadia’s head to her shoulder, patted her back. The baby put her head down and grinned at Reid. They sat quietly, Kara holding Nadia and Reid still holding Kara.
Like a family.
His heart pounded uncomfortably against his ribs for a few beats but even still, it felt good. It felt…right. He reached over, brushed his finger down Nadia’s nose and her eyes shut. “She’s wiped.”
“She’s not the only one,” Kara said on a yawn. Slowly, she climbed to her feet, careful not to startle the baby, and disappeared down the hall. When Erin was Nadia’s age, he’d sit on a rocker and read her a book, then make sure the window was latched and the safety gate in place.
His feet bounced. Nadia wasn’t his daughter but the need to verify her safety grew to an itch he had to scratch. He got up, followed Kara to the first door where she was gently pulling pajamas onto her now-sleeping daughter.
The room had two windows—both had safety gates across them. There was a toy box in the corner, the kind with a gap under its lid so Nadia’s little fingers couldn’t get caught. There was a rocking chair, he noted with a smile. He leaned against the frame while Kara carefully put Nadia in her crib and slowly raised the side. She moved to a shelf across the room, turned on the video monitor and then met him at the door. She fastened a gate across the door frame and then shut the door.
“The gate across the door is good thinking,” he said thickly. “I’ve, um. God, I’ve responded to a few 911 calls where toddlers have left their apartments.” He would not go there. Not now.
Kara shot up a hand. “Don’t tell me.”
He nodded quickly. “Yeah. Gladly.”
She moved back to the kitchen, stuffed the diaper she’d just changed into the trash, and washed her hands. Reid grabbed their plates and took them to the sink. “Still hungry?”
She stared at him for a long moment and shook her head. “No.”
He stepped closer. “Tired?”
“No, I’m kind of wired now.”
He took another step. He was kind of wired, too. Gene was right. He could do this. It was time. Hell, it was way past time. He took his eyes over her body, curve by curve, plane by plane, noted the glint in her eye and the grain of fried rice stuck to her shirt and forgot how to breathe.
“Reid?”
“Hmm?”
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
He took another step. “Like what?”
“Like…like you want to kiss me. Really, really want to kiss me.”
“Because I do. I really, really do.”
“Oh,” she said and he knew she wanted it, too.
He was c
lose enough to touch her now. But he didn’t. Not yet.
“Reid?”
“Hmm?”
“You can. Kiss me, I mean.”
He couldn’t help it. He laughed. See? He never laughed but with her, he couldn’t seem to help it. “Patience, Kara.” He held up his hand, floated it just over her shoulder, not touching, but only just barely. “Do you feel that?” Her skin flushed and pebbled wherever he moved his hand.
“Yes,” she breathed. “What is it?”
His hand shook from the effort not to touch, but he drew it slowly over her body, astounded by her reaction—and his.
“It’s…” He almost said it was a sign. “It’s a promise, Kara. This can be—it will be so good. Do you want me?” He knew the answer but needed to hear her say it.
“I do. But…”
Oh, so not the word a guy wants to hear when there’s precious little blood left in his head. “But?”
“I haven’t done this in a long time. A really long time. The last time I did this, I didn’t have stretch marks and my boobs were a lot higher and—”
He couldn’t wait another second. He closed that tiny little gap and swallowed the rest of her sentence. Her lips opened under his and his hands finally filled with her. His tongue slid against hers in a dance older than time while her hands roamed over his shoulders and back and down to squeeze his butt. He felt that same charge, that same heat fire up his skin the way hers had under his hovering hand.
He boosted her up to the counter, stepped between her legs, and framed her face with his hands. “Kara. Please. Let me stay tonight.”
She pulled back. “Just tonight?”
“To start with.” He moved his hands under her shirt, rubbed her breasts with his thumbs and then crushed her to his chest in a bear hug. “I thought I could be just friends but it’s not possible. You’re so beautiful and such a good mom.” He whispered in her ear.
She went still in his arms.
“I love the way you look. The way you feel. I want more, Kara. More than friends.”
He lifted his head, waited for her reply.
She stared at him for a long moment. Finally, she slid from the counter and he thought that was it. She was sending him home for a century of cold showers.
Instead, she smiled and held out her hand.
*
She led him to her bedroom, pushed him down to the side of her bed and walked back to the shut the door.
“I couldn’t concentrate in your CPR class,” she murmured. “I couldn’t stop fantasizing about you. About your lips on me instead of the dummy’s. About your hands on my chest.”
“Yeah?” he said on a deep rasp and felt his skin blaze. Smooth, Bennett. It took him a moment, but he figured out how to talk again. “As soon as I noticed you, I couldn’t take my eyes off you.” He drew her down onto his lap and kissed her long and deep. Her thighs clenched and he knew she ached so he turned to lay her carefully down and pressed his hips to hers. That same electrical charge shot from him to her and had her arching off the bed.
“God!” She said with a long moan and he had to agree. Her hands slid under his shirt, tugged it up and over his head. She reached for his fly next. He sat up, grabbed his wallet, put it on the bed beside them while she dragged the jeans down his legs. He toed off his shoes, kicked the pants off his ankles and pulled her back to the bed on top of him. When she drew her fingers down the length of him, he wanted nothing more than to let her do whatever she wanted.
But she’d just told him she hadn’t done this in a very long time. He knew the last time she’d done this, she’d made a baby with a bastard who’d walked away from both of them. He got to his knees, leaned over her, pressed a string of kisses along her jaw. She had to know how beautiful she was. How desirable. How sweet and sexy. He would show her. If it took him all night, he would show her. She pulled her knees up so he began there. He lifted one bare foot, kissed the sole, repeated the gesture on the other foot. He ran his hands up her calves, smiling when she giggled. He opened the fly on her jeans, tugged them off and tossed them to the floor.
Her T-shirt was next on his list. Slowly, he edged the hem up, revealing an expanse of creamy skin. She wore plain cotton underwear in baby blue—no lace, no frills—that shouldn’t have been the least bit sexy but it made the blood pound in his ears. What the hell was she doing to him? He bent to kiss the top of one breast, then the other. She pressed his face closer to her body and he used that opportunity to flick open the bra, pull it down her arms and fling it to the floor.
His hands shook when he cupped her breasts. They were heavy in his hands. In the dim light from the bedside lamp, he could see the faint white lines etched into the skin around the dark nipples, and around her belly button. He knew she hated those marks. He knew she was worried she wasn’t sexy anymore. When her hand snaked up to cover herself, he cuffed her wrists over her head and murmured, “Uh uh. Never hide, especially not from me.”
She squirmed and shut her eyes and he knew she didn’t believe him. So he’d prove it. He bent his head, traced every single mark with his tongue and didn’t stop until she was moaning under him. He started slow, keeping things easy. Smooth. He could do this, he reminded himself. One step at a time.
He took one nipple into his mouth and when her fingers nearly ripped the hair from his scalp in response, felt his own desire kick into higher gear. He grabbed her hand, pressed it to his groin. “Look what you do to me, Kara.” She moaned and the sound spurred him on. Hungry now, a little greedy, he took his hands on a cruise over her body, a touch here, a caress there, a dip right there. He was focused, almost desperate to hear her call his name. Her hand locked around him and his own groan shattered the air.
“Please,” she whispered. “Now.”
Absolutely now. He grabbed his wallet, rolled the condom on and paused above her, just to look. Her lips were swollen from his kisses and her nipples were wet from his mouth. Her breaths came in pants and her entire body shimmered in the dim light, a low hum filling his ears…ready.
Waiting.
Anticipating.
Revving.
He plunged, filling her, watching those always anxious eyes blur for him. Her hands roamed down his back and settled on his ass, pulled him in deeper. Thrust after thrust, she wriggled under him, an instinctual need to be even closer. He took her mouth as he moved and she lifted her legs, wrapped them around his waist and arched her back, her body clenching around his.
His mind emptied. Running on instinct, he moved, faster and faster, that low hum now a roar he felt in every cell of his body until she shouted his name, and it was exactly what he needed, all that he needed. He came with a long, low moan and collapsed, his mind capable of forming only one thought.
Kara.
*
Her heart thudded on her ribs like an out of control freight train.
Or maybe it was his.
Her limbs were lead and her mind thought it was dreaming. Kara was one raw and still twitching nerve ending. She managed to move a hand, dropped it on Reid’s head where he’d dropped it, sprawled on her chest. Under her fingers, another of those tingles began and spread—slow and hot—across her entire body.
She’d had sex with Reid.
No, this wasn’t sex. Calling what she’d just experienced sex did it—did Reid—a huge disservice. Her body was still quaking.
“What was that, Reid? What the hell was that?”
He lifted his head, smirked down at her with bedroom eyes. “A Friday night.”
“I’m serious.” Kara slapped his shoulder.
Slowly, he shifted and she gasped while he sighed. He got up, disappeared into her bathroom to deal with the condom. A minute later, he was back and pulling her to his side, kissing her deeply. She stared at him, studying him, trying to figure him out. He’d freaked out when she’d told him about her mom’s signs and tonight, he’d shown up with dinner and a shoulder to cry on and then given her the best sex of her whole life and—and
what? What was this?
“Stop,” he said.
“Stop what?”
“You’re worrying. Dissecting. Obsessing. We just had the world’s most incredible sex and as soon as my eyes uncross, we’re gonna do it again.”
“God.”
Reid laughed, shifted so he could kiss one breast, then the other. Oh, hell. Kissing wasn’t enough. He circled one nipple with his tongue. “I like these. A lot.”
She slapped his bare shoulder again. “Come on. They’re covered in stretch marks.”
“Yeah. They are. Still think they’re beautiful. You’re beautiful.”
She shut her eyes. “Okay, Reid. You got me into bed. You don’t have to keep trying.”
He went still and then sat up, regarding her with a slight frown. “Think I’m lying?”
She squirmed under his scrutiny. “No. I think you’re being nice and—”
“Kara, I’m not nice. When I like something, I say so. When I don’t like something—oh, say like the woman I just made love to accusing me of lying—”
“Reid, I never said you were lying. I just think maybe you’re exaggerating and I don’t need that, okay?”
Still scowling at her, he threw up his hands. “Fine. Get your sagging tits and dimpled ass back here.” He slapped her on said ass—it wasn’t the least bit dimpled—and she giggled.
“It’s not dimpled…is it?” She twisted around, tried to get a look at it. He flopped to her bed with a dramatic sigh and tossed his arm across his face.
She lifted a hand, traced the muscles on his abdomen. “I really love this.” She drew her finger along the V of his abdominal muscles.
“Do you?” He flexed, made her giggle. Something else flexed and he reached for his wallet and her belly flipped.
“Again?” She wasn’t sure she could bear it that way again.
He angled his head but his eyes met hers and held. “Oh, yeah. Again. Saggy tits really turn me on.” He rolled on top of her and she smiled.
“Okay, okay! I get it. You like them. I’m glad.”
He kissed her softly and it went on for a long time until she forgot about dimples and stretch marks. “Reid?”
“Mmmm?”
“What the hell is this?” she asked. It wasn’t just sex. And it damn well wasn’t just a Friday night. Damn it, the earth hadn’t just moved, it had changed directions and was still going. She had to know he felt it, too.
