Because of the List

by Amy Knupp

  After their boyfriend-girlfriend game last night at Vienna’s party, and the chemistry that had sizzled between them on the walk to her car, Taylor had let herself get swept away in fantasy. Again. She’d wanted his help on the house search, sure, but more than that, maybe a part of her was testing him. Seeing how he reacted to the domestic, personal quest of finding a home.

  So far, he hadn’t. At all.

  While she raved about a vaulted ceiling or a stone fireplace, the only input he gave her was, well, black and white. Facts. The flue of the fireplace was jammed. The concrete wall of the basement was cracked. The garage was sealed well and would stand up to Wisconsin winters.

  It was more apparent than ever that this move toward the future was hers and hers alone. In truth, it always had been, but maybe she’d hoped.

  The current owners had excellent taste in furniture, even here on the back porch. A sturdy white rattan love seat with cheery yellow cushions looked out over the backyard. Taylor couldn’t resist sitting on it, imagining herself relaxing on a summer evening.

  The backyard was surprisingly expansive for an old, residential neighborhood. A grand, picturesque tree—she wasn’t sure what kind—sheltered the back half of the yard from the sun, and a vision of a wooden playset appeared in Taylor’s mind. One with a yellow plastic slide, a rope ladder and a sandbox on one end. A swing, definitely a swing or two. She could imagine a boy and a girl playing, climbing, hollering. Laughing.

  “What do you think?”

  She startled at Alex’s voice from behind her. The screen door creaked as he opened it. He walked six feet in front of her, gazing out at the yard as she just had, but now her attention was fully on him.

  Such an easy, natural thing to add him to the scene in her mind. Standing behind the swing, pushing the boy until he squealed in excitement. Or crouching at the side of the sandbox, steering a minibulldozer with the pigtailed girl. Rising when Taylor joined them. Kissing her.

  “It’s a sturdy, well-built house,” he said, his back still to her. “I think it’d get your brother’s okay.”

  The make-believe scenario in Taylor’s head vanished with an almost-audible crash.

  When had she become such a dreamer?

  She shook her head. She hadn’t and she wasn’t.

  She’d never been deluded enough to think there was a future for her and Alex. It was just easy to do because buying a house made the future so top-of-mind.

  Not something she would let ruin her day.

  She had Alex’s company for the time being. Even though he’d been noncommittal so far, having him with her had made house-hunting fun.

  They were definitely deeply immersed in the “gray area”—somewhere between friends and lovers.

  Definitions weren’t necessary, she reminded herself.

  Taylor stood and walked up next to him, their arms not quite touching. “Beyond the nuts and bolts and practical issues,” she said, “what do you think of it?”

  “What I think shouldn’t matter.”

  “Oh, it doesn’t,” she assured him, grinning when he frowned. “My opinion is already formed. I’m just curious.”

  He turned and perused the porch thoughtfully. “If I were going to settle down and buy a house, this one would be at the top of my list.”

  His assessment shouldn’t have caused the lightness in her chest, the irrepressible grin. What he thought really didn’t count, in theory. But she smiled at him anyway. Nodded. “For once, we’re in agreement about something.”

  She went to find Genevieve to discuss how to move forward.

  VIENNA WOULD BE PROUD.

  So far Taylor had stretched “time with Alex” into an almost twelve-hour span. He’d been easily convinced to come back to her place with just three words: home-cooked dinner.

  It turned out completely going on instinct without second-guessing herself would require a little practice. After touring two more houses on Genevieve’s list, Taylor had wanted to see the bungalow one more time. By then it’d been well after 6:00 p.m.

  They’d stopped at the grocery store on the way to her house and she’d made oven-baked pork chops, scalloped potatoes and fresh green beans. She was no gourmet chef but Alex had been sweetly enthusiastic about the food.

  She’d forced him, in spite of his protests, out to the newly furnished deck to relax while she hastily cleaned up the kitchen. As she closed the refrigerator on the last of the leftovers, she surveyed the room. Not up to her usual standards, but there was a sexy man in her backyard. A girl had her priorities, and while tidiness had always been one of them, sometimes those priorities changed.

  Taylor went outside, closing the door behind her to keep the cooled air in. She left the porch light off in an attempt to keep the bugs at bay. Alex had lit the citronella candle on the side table next to him, she noticed.

  Though dusk was settling in, it was still uncharacteristically warm for Wisconsin in late August. Taylor tucked herself into one of her new teak patio chairs—with the most luxurious, comfortable outdoor cushions she’d ever come across—and hugged a throw pillow to her chest.

  Alex had claimed the lounger, the focal piece of the admittedly extravagant purchase. When she’d listed Taylor’s house last week, Genevieve had suggested creating a cozy, welcoming atmosphere on the newly repaired deck as part of the staging. Taylor had had no intention of going overboard when she’d hit a nearby home and garden store, but once she’d laid eyes on this set, on the lounger specifically, she’d wanted it to be part of her new home—wherever that might be. She had visions of getting Vienna to create a haven similar to the one at the Worth house for her, and this furniture would serve as the inspiration.

  “You might never get me to leave,” Alex said, his head back against the cushion, eyes closed. “This thing makes my bed feel like a wooden crate.”

  Taylor watched him with a smile, thinking it’d suit her fine if he never left.

  One night at a time, she chided herself.

  “The plants add to the experience,” she said.

  Two giant potted palms and a ficus filled the corner behind him. Gave the spot a sheltered feel.

  “Definite jungle vibe.” He raised his arms and cradled them behind his head. “Dinner was killer. If I didn’t know better I’d think you were trying to get me to move in.”

  The comment was meant to be funny but it hit strangely close to the truth. He didn’t seem disgusted or threatened by the idea.

  That was something.

  Something that, combined with the single glass of wine she’d had with dinner, gave her courage. She stood and noiselessly crossed the deck to the lounger. By the time he sensed her close by and opened his eyes, she’d jumped over an imaginary line and was lowering herself to straddle his lap.

  “Always good to have a handy fix-it type around,” she said nervously.

  “Hel-lo.”

  Hel-lo was right. She hadn’t thought about the effect of her long, loose gypsy skirt in this particular position. Now she couldn’t think of anything else. There was a lot more breeze than material between her legs and his cargos.

  “If you wanted the lounger, all you had to do was ask,” he said with a sexy, all-knowing smile.

  She swallowed and met his blue-gray eyes. “It’s not the chair I’m after.”

  “What, exactly, are you after?” The smile faded, his manner became serious, and she knew her answer would dictate what happened next. What happened for the rest of the night.

  “Well…” The rough growth of hair on his chin held her attention. She traced her finger up his jaw and back down again. “Our one-night thing? In my opinion it was a very nice way to spend a night. And I was thinking we could maybe…have another ‘one night.’”

  She was no expert on desire but she could swear his eyes went hot.

  “I don’t possess your mad math skills,” he said in a husky, alluring voice, “but I’m pretty sure that would make it two nights.”

  “You’re thinking too
hard.”

  He chuckled. “That’s not something I’m often accused of. Sounds more up your alley.” He caressed her bare upper arm gently with one hand, giving her shivers, and rested his other at her waist.

  “I’m taking the evening off.” Her shyness and fear were slowly being replaced by the need to get closer to him. She looked at his lips, touched them with her finger. Leaned forward without thought.

  Alex’s hand came up to her nape and he pulled her to him. The contact of their lips shot heat through her all the way to her middle, then lower. She breathed him in. Tasted him. Was overcome by the sensual overload of kissing him again. Just as before, it took mere seconds for him to drive her over a line from tentative to voracious.

  Maybe this was only for one night, or one more night, but he was into it. Alex wanted her. Taylor had never been sure about that before with any other man, but there was little left to doubt given the hardness that pressed between her legs and the growl that rumbled from his chest.

  He pulled her skirt from where it’d been serving as a semi-barrier between them and adjusted her body, centering her on him. The thin strip of her panties allowed her to feel every contour of his cargos, every shift of him below her. Made her burn for more contact. She rubbed her body against his, shooting electric need through her, making her gasp.

  She eased away enough to access his zipper.

  “Taylor.” His voice had gone lower. Rougher.

  “Yes?”

  “We’re outside.”

  She laughed into his mouth as she kissed him again. “We are. In my backyard.”

  “Are you okay with…? You go much further and that’s it, baby. Outside it is.”

  Sitting back on his thighs, feeling flushed and not giving a flying fig about where they were, she undid his zipper with shaking fingers. “Well, I could stop and compose a list. Pros and cons of intimate relations on the back deck… But it might take a few minutes.”

  She reached inside his boxers and touched the silky hardness she ached for.

  “A few minutes isn’t an option,” he said, leaning forward to kiss her again.

  “It’s dark,” she whispered. “Most of my neighbors are elderly. They go to sleep not long after Wheel of Fortune.”

  “Shh. I stopped arguing minutes ago. Get over here.”

  Alex brushed her hair off her cheek, ran his fingers through her long, tousled locks. Their tongues met again, hungrily. As he kissed her senseless, she felt his rough, strong fingers under her skirt, inching up the backs of her thighs. Over her rear. They dipped inside her panties from the top, eased them down over her hips. Taylor leaned to the side to help him remove them and threw them toward the back door.

  Before she could settle back on top of him, he removed his wallet from the back pocket of his pants and took out a square packet.

  “Just like an army guy,” she said breathily. “Always ready.”

  “Preparedness is one of my many virtues.”

  He ripped open the condom and she leaned down to kiss him. The package flew to the deck next to them. He slipped his hands under her shirt and guided her back on top of him until he filled her, taking her breath away.

  “You feel amazing, Taylor.”

  “So you’re saying the one-more-night thing was a good idea?” It was difficult to talk as she moved, grinding into him, teasing him.

  “One of your best.”

  He made his way up her rib cage with his large hands, slid his fingers under her bra, over her breasts, her nipples. She gave up talking and lost control of her thoughts. Let instinct and need take over. Working his shirt upward, she ran her hands over his tight abs, his hard chest. She lifted the shirt off and tossed it aside. The sight of his dog tags on his toned, tanned body, while he was doing wicked things to her body… Sex would be ruined for her after this. It could never be as amazing as it was with Alex.

  She clung to him, kissed him, breathed him. Promised herself she wouldn’t let him leave until morning, would barely let him sleep. She’d take the day off and they could extend one night into a twenty-four-hour period. Whatever, as long as this didn’t have to end…?.

  Alex whispered things into her ear, drove her higher when she already thought she was going to die. Seeming to sense the moment he pushed her over, he kissed her hard, quieting the moans she couldn’t hold back. He gripped her rear under her skirt and arched into her, not releasing her mouth.

  Gradually their kisses gentled. They exhaled shakily as one. Spent. Sated. So amazingly sated.

  Taylor curled into him, still intimately joined to him. His arms were around her, holding her to his chest. Cricket chirps eventually worked their way into her consciousness, adding to her feeling of contentment. She ran her finger over the metal rectangles hanging from his neck, not allowing herself to consider what they represented.

  “That wasn’t what I had in mind when I bought the patio furniture, but I’m trying to embrace the less-planned lifestyle,” Taylor said several minutes later.

  A low laugh rumbled from Alex’s chest, vibrated beneath her cheek. “I heartily approve of the less-planned lifestyle.”

  He kissed the top of her head. Caressed her back. A breeze rustled through the leaves of the trees, and the sheen of perspiration on Taylor’s skin made her shiver.

  “Is there room for two in your shower?” he asked.

  “You tell me. You installed one of them.”

  “Do you think we should conduct an experiment?”

  She could tell he was grinning by the sound of his voice. “You do know the way to get a science girl to say yes.”

  Taylor crawled off him and picked up the clothing from the deck. He was slow standing and putting himself back together, but once he did, she let him sweep her off her feet. Literally and figuratively.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  ALEX COULDN’T SAY exactly what made him cancel his Monday PT appointment. Spending the night with an amazing, willing woman in his arms made a man do crazy things, to be sure, but his therapy time was sacred. He didn’t skip it, period. Not even when Marshall had flaked on the deal they’d made that gave Alex access to his Acura three times a week. Alex had ended up paying a cab so much to get to his appointment that buying a new car on the fly would’ve almost been cheaper.

  And this morning, when Taylor had announced she was taking the day off work—which he suspected was a monumental occurrence itself—he’d apparently caught the temporary insanity bug.

  They’d stayed in her bed for most of the day, emerging from her room exactly twice, both incidents food-related. Taylor had put her robe on once to bring the mail in—and systematically sorted and either stacked or thrown away each piece, opening herself up to an OCD joke or two. They’d slept a lot, and interrupted their sleep with sex.

  All in all, every man’s idea of the perfect day.

  What was the saying? Something about good things coming to an end?

  The clock was ticking. Alex was having a harder time ignoring reality, the world outside their lust cave. He knew the longer he stayed, the more likely Taylor—okay, both of them—would get too used to being together. Though the past day and night had rocked his world, he was beginning to get antsy.

  AN HOUR LATER, TAYLOR climbed out of the shower while Alex stayed in to rinse the last of the soap off. It turned out two could indeed fit into both the new shower and the one in the master bath. A little crowded but that’d just made things more interesting. Forced them to get more creative.

  As she dried herself, she knew their mind-blowing love retreat had to end soon, even though neither of them had mentioned the subject. Once Alex walked out of here, there was no telling when she’d see him next. Before he left, there was something she needed to address, and she tried to figure out the best way of handling it.

  Naked was not it, she decided with a flushed smile.

  She peeked behind the shower curtain to feast her eyes on his beautiful body—scars and all—one last time and hurried out of the bathro
om before she lost her resolve to get dressed. She’d never had so much sex in her life and yet…she wanted more? With Alex, it would never get old. As inexperienced as she’d been before him, she instinctively knew this.

  Taylor threw on jeans and a plain coral V-neck T-shirt before heading through the house. She went down the stairs to the basement and opened the now neatly organized closet in the family room. Quinn’s duffel bag hung from a hook and she grabbed it. Went into the other room to the gun cabinet. Her hand shook as she unlocked the door.

  The cabinet was half empty, as she’d expected. Alex had managed to sell five or six of Quinn’s guns to people he knew. The one she sought was on the far right side by itself. She had no idea what exactly it was other than scary and ugly, but she knew it had been Quinn’s favorite—the one Alex had pointed out the day they took inventory.

  Alex had hesitated to take it then but he was the only one who should inherit it. It’d been one of Quinn’s most treasured possessions, and while Taylor could appreciate the sentimentality of it, she had no desire to own it, look at it. Touch it.

  She noticed the gloves on the shelf and put them on. She wasn’t altogether sure why it was necessary but she’d never seen Quinn—or Alex, for that matter—skip using them.

  Reminding herself the gun was unloaded, she picked it up, awed and more than a little freaked out by the thought of what this hunk of metal and plastic was capable of.

  She carefully placed the gun in the bag, zipped it and hurried upstairs, eager to get rid of the goods. Yes, it was irrational to be scared to touch an unloaded gun, but the same could be said for touching garter snakes. Neither was her thing.

  When Alex came out of her bedroom, dressed in the clothes he’d worn on the marathon house tour yesterday, she was sitting in the living room on the couch, the bag at her feet.

  “What’s going on?” he asked, walking down the hall toward her.

  “I’ve been meaning to do this for a while.” Taylor leaned over and widened the opening of the bag as he lowered himself to the couch next to her. She forced herself to pick up the piece of killing steel instead of making him grab it himself. She held out the gun to him, careful to point it away from both of them just in case.