Sure something was really wrong, since Nate was here unexpectedly, she headed for the door. “What’s going on?” She took in his harried look and ushered him in.
“Sorry to interrupt. I’ve got some papers that need signing ASAP.” Briefly, he explained.
Relieved it was only a paperwork snafu, Brooke relaxed.
“So if you have a fax…?” Nate smiled.
“Actually, I do.” She paused to read the sheet, fill in the pertinent data and lifted a staying hand. “Let me go send these in and then I’ll be right back.” Nate nodded.
Brooke disappeared down the hallway of her century-old bungalow.
While the beeps of a fax number being typed in sounded in the distance, Nate took a moment to look around.
Located in the residential enclave next to the Fort Worth university where her husband had taught, the house had both historic charm and modern appeal. It was cozy and stylish, warm and inviting—a lot like Brooke.
She returned, still clad in the trim lavender cotton skirt and sleeveless white blouse she’d had on earlier. But the panty hose and fancy sandals were gone. Barefoot and bare-legged, with her silky hair falling loosely around her shoulders, she looked gorgeous and slightly frazzled. The latter made him want to assist her all the more. “I phoned the camp office, just to make sure, and they’re all set,” Brooke reported with an efficient smile. “We pick them up there at eleven forty-five this evening.”
Wishing he’d thought to call ahead and invite her to lunch, Nate lingered. “I can do that, if you like.”
“Actually—” Brooke clapped a weary hand to the graceful slope of her neck “—I’d appreciate it.”
Thinking there still might be a way for him to help, Nate nodded toward the stacks of materials. “Any luck with the search?”
Brooke’s face fell. “Yes and no. I didn’t find the proof I was looking for, but I did find this.” She handed over a sheaf of papers bound together with elastic.
Their fingers brushed as the exchange was made.
On top was a cover letter from the publisher of Seamus’s new volume of poetry. Nate noted the date. “This was sent three years ago.”
“In response to another proposed manuscript,” Brooke affirmed, looking all the more distressed.
Nate read aloud, “‘Dear Seamus… It is with regret I inform you that The Poet’s Press can not publish your new collection. The poems are much too dark and cynical. We want more works that capture the wonder and magic of falling in love again, not a detailed exposition of what it is to fall out of love and feel trapped in a marriage one regrets. We fear this collection would alienate the readers of your first three volumes, and damage sales of future works, as well. We advise you to go back to the themes that made your earlier works a success, and of course, we would like a first look at them when they are ready to be read….’”
Nate looked beneath the letter, at the manuscript. “Did you know about this?”
Brooke shook her head.
His concern for her well-being deepened. “Did you read any of this?”
She nodded. And then, without warning, burst into tears. Embarrassed, she tried to hide her face and move away.
Nate did the only thing he could—he pulled her into a hug. “Hey,” he said, smoothing her hair with the flat of his hand. “It’s okay.”
“No.” Her voice was muffled against his shoulder. “It’s not. Nate, my husband loathed being married to me. He compared me to an anchor weighing him down, keeping him trapped in a sea of mediocrity.”
“I’m sure it was an exaggeration. Poetic license…”
Brooke had lied to herself for years. Tried to give her late husband the benefit of the doubt. The poems she had read, the raw emotion in them, had opened her eyes. Wanting Nate to understand, she swallowed and explained, “For years I felt like a burden to Seamus. As if Cole and I were in the way.” She shook her head in misery as the memories of unhappier times came flooding back. “I told myself it was because Seamus was an artist, and he was blocked—that he needed more time for his art…fewer demands from us… And I tried to give him that. But the reality is he never loved me. Never cared about me, the person.”
The way I feel you caring about me…
Nate took her face in his palms. “That’s impossible.”
“No, it isn’t. Nate…”
He smoothed a hand through her hair. “Listen to me, Brooke. You are one of the most lovable women I have ever met.” He kissed her temple, then drew back, desire in his eyes. “You’re beautiful and smart and amazing. If your husband didn’t see that—” Nate rubbed the pad of his thumb across her lower lip “—then he was a fool.” He flattened a hand against her spine and brought her closer still. “But I see it.” He shifted her so her back was against the wall, his tall body pressed against hers.
Brooke struggled to keep her feelings in check, but it was an impossible task when he was holding her flush against him. The pandemonium inside her multiplied as he moved closer still, his sinewy chest molding to the softness of her breasts. Her skin registered the heat, and the hardness of his body compared to hers.
Nate flashed a slow, sexy smile as his head slanted slowly and deliberately over hers. “Wow, do I see it.”
This time there was nothing tentative about his kiss. It was hot, persuasive, hungry. He was holding her tightly and it still wasn’t enough. She wanted more of the slow, demanding caress of his lips, the feel of his hands sliding up and down her back. She wanted more of his kindness and understanding, and the womanly way he made her feel. She wanted to let go of the hurt and disappointment of the past, and live in the moment. And Nate seemed only too eager to comply.
As she encircled her arms about his neck and melted against him, she could feel the pounding of his heart matching hers, and the strength and power of his need. Once again they were completely caught up in the passionate tangling of their lips and tongues. And this time she made no attempt to put on the brakes. It had been two long years since she had been touched. Never before had she felt so cherished. Nate made her feel like living life to the ultimate. He made her want to take the risk. And though initially Brooke had feared he was as self-possessed and driven as her late husband, that despite his ease with people, he was too emotionally aloof to give and receive love, she realized she’d judged him unfairly. And as Nate continued to kiss and hold her, she realized he wasn’t just prone to doing the honorable thing in whatever situation he found himself, he was a generous and affectionate man.
Kind enough to bring her out of her self-imposed chastity and back into a balanced life, where she had her son and her work—and mind-blowing passion….
Even if it was destined to be only a brief, impulsive affair.
Brooke knew she could handle it. Because she was still in full control of her emotions and knew exactly what this was.
She wouldn’t make the mistake she had made before, confusing her need for comfort and support with falling in love.
She and Nate were friends who needed a little help getting through two unexpected personal crises—that was all. When their situations returned to normal, so would their lives….
Undoubtedly, Nate would go his merry way, she would go hers. With a memory of one hot-blooded lovemaking session going with them… But in the meantime, she intended to enjoy every second of pleasure and relief he had to offer.
NATE HADN’T PLANNED to take Brooke in his arms today. He had expected to come over, get her signature, see how things were going and be on his way. But remaining detached from her was proving impossible. He couldn’t be with her and not want her. Not just as a parenting mentor or friend, but as a woman. His woman. And his need for exclusivity stunned him. He hadn’t felt this intensely about a woman in…well, ever. And that fueled even more his need to possess her. He wanted to take her to bed and make wild passionate love to her, so thoroughly and completely they’d both remember it forever.
“The question is,” he murmured as she kissed hi
m back, moaning softly as his hands came around to slide sensuously over her breasts. He kissed her cheek, her temple, the shell of her ear, before returning ever so slowly to her lips. “Do you see how sexy you are?”
He dropped his hand down, pushing her skirt higher, to caress the insides of her thighs. Just that had her trembling with pleasure. “I’m beginning to,” she murmured, between subsequent kisses.
“Good.” He slid a hand beneath her knees and her back and lifted her in his arms. Headed in the direction of her bedroom and deposited her gently next to her four-poster bed. As her bare feet hit the carpet, he told her, “Because we’re just getting started.”
Brooke chuckled softly and slid her deliciously full lower lip out into a seductive pout. Splaying her hands across his chest, she gave him a look that let him know this afternoon was strictly for fun, nothing more. “Promises, promises…”
It sounded like a dare. Nate toed off his shoes, stripped off his shirt and pants. “Nothing I like more than a challenge,” he murmured.
Nothing she liked more, he noticed as he stripped completely, than turning him on.
Her eyes widened at the proof of his desire. “Wow,” she said.
Wow was right, Nate thought. He’d never been this aroused. “My turn.” He planted one hand at the nape of her neck, the other at the base of her spine. Hauling her close, he dipped his head. Reveling in her soft gasp of desire, he delivered a long, soul-searching kiss. Her response was immediate. She swept her tongue into his mouth and brought him closer still. Nate drank in the sweet taste of her, luxuriating in the lilac fragrance of her hair and skin.
She groaned again as his hands moved beneath the hem of her blouse to her breasts. He cupped the full, soft weight through the lace of her bra. “Not fair,” she murmured with an impatient sigh, “that I’m the only one still dressed….”
With her hair tumbling over her shoulders, her cheeks flushed, her lips damp and parted, she had never looked more beautiful. Or vulnerable. Nate’s need to protect her expanded. “We can rectify that,” he whispered, satisfaction roaring in his veins.
Seeing no need to rush through one of the most memorable days of his life, he took his time as he unbuttoned, unclasped and unzipped. He liked the way Brooke’s chest rose and fell with each ragged intake of breath, the way she couldn’t seem to take her eyes off him, any more than he could take his off her.
She trembled as he divested her of bra and bikini underwear, then bent and kissed her budding pink nipples, one by one. She clasped his shoulders and sighed contentedly as his mouth moved urgently over her soft curves.
He dropped to his knees, kissing the hollow of her stomach, stroking the insides of her soft thighs. He traced her navel with his tongue, then dropped lower still, to administer the most ardent of kisses. Overcome with pleasure, shuddering with sensation, she whispered, “Nate…”
She shifted position and her lips drifted over his skin, touching, exploring, until there was no more control, no more hesitation, and Nate drew her to the bed. Feeling how much Brooke wanted and needed him, he lay down with her on the lace-edged sheets. His own body throbbing, he used a light caress to convince her to part her legs for him again. Her head fell back as he found the sweet sensitive spot with the pad of his thumb, until she was rocking slightly, leaving no doubt about what they both needed to have.
Watching her face, and trembling with a depth of feeling he could no longer deny, Nate guided her legs around his waist. Savoring the intimacy and the wonder of it all, he plunged into her and began to thrust. Her body closed around him and cloaked him in warmth. What few boundaries existed between them evaporated. Amazingly, fittingly, they were one. As he took them to the limit and beyond, he knew in his heart nothing had ever felt so right.
BROOKE HAD NO SOONER come back down to earth than the guilt and uncertainty set in. She had never acted so selfishly in her life, prior to this. And as much as she wanted to romanticize what had just happened between her and Nate, she knew she had just made love with him for all the wrong reasons. As a salve to her bruised ego, and her even more wounded heart… The last thing she had wanted to do was hurt Nate. Or herself.
Reluctantly, she extricated herself from his warm and tender embrace, and sat up against the headboard. “I can’t believe I just did that.”
He rolled to his side, a paragon of rippling muscles and masculine satisfaction. Looking as if he wanted nothing more than to make her his all over again, he queried contentedly, “Made love on impulse in the middle of the afternoon?”
Brooke knew if she let him he would shatter whatever caution she had left. And she had too much responsibility to allow that to happen. Her pulse racing, she held the sheet to her breasts with one hand and pushed her hair away from her face with the other. For both their sakes, she had to be honest and let him know where they stood. He could deal with it.
She sighed and looked deep into his eyes with self-effacing candor. “I used you to make myself feel better.”
Chapter Nine
For a second, Nate couldn’t believe he had heard right. “You didn’t use me,” he said. “Any more than I used you. We came together because it was what we wanted.”
Brooke rose, blanket wrapped around her, and went to her closet. When she emerged, she had on a calf-length terry robe. She looked beautiful and disheveled, and very much on edge. “Be that as it may,” she told him softly, “I don’t want us to do this again.”
Determined to keep this from going south, Nate leveled his gaze on her and forced her to be specific. “You don’t want us to spend time alone together?” Which had been great. “Get closer?” A feat that had been even more satisfying. He rose from the bed, slid on his shorts, then his slacks. “Make love?”
He knew from the darkening of her irises that he’d hit the mark.
Brooke lifted her chin, defiant. Her fingers tightened on the fabric of her robe. “I don’t want our friendship—” She paused, fumbling with a hairbrush “—if that’s what it is—”
“It is.”
“—to morph into a romantic love that we both know will never last.”
Nate watched, fascinated, as she restored order to her silky hair. The pressure against his fly told him his desire for her wasn’t going away anytime soon. And he knew the feeling was mutual. “And if our chemistry does last?” he interjected. “Then what?” What excuse would she use to run away from the best thing he’d ever felt, anyway?
Brooke perched on the edge of her bed. She dropped her brush into her lap, took his hand and drew him down beside her so they were sitting face-to-face. The contrite expression on her face told him she thought she had hurt his feelings. “Listen to me, Nate,” she murmured. “You and I are together now because of the work I am doing for you, and because you need help bringing Landry all the way into your life.”
Nate wouldn’t deny that Brooke had filled his life with gentle understanding, tenderness and contentment, any more than he could deny the soft warmth of her fingers over his, or the fact she was the best thing to ever come into his life, hands down. “It’s more than that,” he argued gruffly. Without even trying, she understood what he needed and wanted. He’d thought he comprehended what she longed for in her life, too.
Her ambivalent expression said otherwise.
She swallowed, seemingly as reluctant to dis him as she was to make love with him again. “You’re right,” Brooke agreed. “My world has been turned upside down and I need the distraction, too. Heck—” she grinned crookedly “—I needed the ego boost. But once we get past these twin crises, our lives will return to normal, and we won’t need each other anymore.”
The hell they wouldn’t, Nate thought, already aware of how lonely and empty his life would be without her and her son. And it wasn’t just him. Landry would be devastated, too.
Brooke wet her lower lip. “And when we no longer need each other, we’ll go our separate ways.”
Nate tore his eyes from the soft curves of her breasts, visib
le in the V-neckline of her robe. “You’re assuming a lot,” he told her quietly.
Sadness crept into her eyes. “And with good reason, Nate. I’ve done this before. When I was a senior in college and my life was filled with uncertainty, I reached out to a man who seemed to have all the answers.”
Seamus. Her lying, cheating, selfish jerk of a husband.
“I confused the friendship and the physical passion—and an even more pressing need for a complete family of my own again—with the kind of love that would last a lifetime. It didn’t.”
“But that doesn’t mean what we are feeling—whatever this is—won’t,” Nate countered.
“Which is exactly the problem,” Brooke argued, a vulnerable sheen in her eyes. “We don’t really know what this is. All I know for certain is that had I not been in distress today…had you not shown up when you did…I wouldn’t have reached out to you. We wouldn’t have recklessly fallen into bed and made love. Because I don’t do things like this, Nate.” Her voice rose emphatically. “I don’t have flings or affairs. For me, making love is a commitment.” She swallowed, still holding his gaze. “Or it should be.”
“I agree,” Nate said. “And for the record, I don’t sleep around, either.”
Brooke shrugged, let go of his hand and stood. “Then we’re on the same page.”
Yes, Nate thought. And no. The time he had spent with Brooke and the boys had shown him everything he had been missing, not having a wife and children of his own. Maybe it was selfish of him to not want to let go of the makeshift family they had formed in the last week. He didn’t care. He didn’t want to give that up any more than he wanted to give her up. “I readily admit we jumped the gun a bit today, but what we just experienced was more than pure physical passion, or wrongheaded crisis management,” he said.
She grinned at his subtle joke, but to his disappointment kept her defenses firmly in place. “How do you know?”
The Mommy Proposal Page 10
