Matt didn’t say a word, but walked back down to the cherry cabinets and waited for her to join him. “Tell me honestly. Do you like them?”
Truthfully? She lusted after those cherry cabinets. Would probably dream about them tonight. They’d actually go well with the current oak cabinets, which she’d painted black for effect. Dammit. They were a beautiful deep chocolate brown with a million red highlights in every groove. The perfect marriage of color. Both the brown and the red seemed to complement each other and bring out the best in each shade. Different but the same.
Confession time. “Yes. I love them.”
Matt didn’t waste any time. For the next few minutes he conferred with a clerk, checked measurements and finally moved toward the cashier.
He pulled out his wallet. “No second thoughts allowed.”
She opened her mouth. Closed it. Too bad she was already having second thoughts. How was she supposed to let the house go if Matt seemed determined to make it everything she’d ever wanted? Not to mention the fact that he was driving her crazy with the sexy sideways grins. She wanted to be back in that office with him again, only this time with no interruption.
After Matt and a warehouse helper had loaded up the cabinet doors into the back of his truck, they drove back to the house and proceeded to unload them.
Sarah picked up one heavy cabinet door. She started carrying it up the few steps to the house and nearly dropped it.
“Let me do that,” Matt said, wincing.
So now she was not only banished from power tools but from lifting anything she might drop. “I can handle it.”
Even if “handling it” meant she mainly half carried, half slid the wide cabinet door inside. Worried she’d scuff the doors, she stood back and let Matt do the rest. She rather enjoyed observing him as he made use of those strong arm and back muscles. Would it be possible to talk him into a massage after such an exertion? Preferably naked.
Matt settled the last cabinet door with the rest of the stack just outside the kitchen. He hadn’t even broken a sweat. He peeled off his work gloves and threw them on the ground.
“I could get started on these this Friday after Hunter leaves. It won’t take long.”
He took a step toward her as if he’d only now realized she stood, waiting, for something from him. A signal, anything that showed what had happened in his office meant as much to him as it did to her. Everything around them seemed different now, the air charged with a different level of electricity that felt far more intimate. She’d had her hand down his pants, for crying out loud. She didn’t do that kind of thing with every man she met and liked enough to kiss. Or at least, not for a very long time. Maybe she should tell him that.
“Matt—”
As if taking advantage of her mouth being open, he covered it with a kiss. She felt herself being tugged to him, closer than close. Her hands slid up his back, feeling all the strength there, all those taut muscles tensing under her touch. He deepened the kiss, and she got lost in the sensation of his tongue teasing hers over and over again. She craved him completely, his kiss and his taste. Every single cell of him. More than she’d wanted or needed any other man in her life.
His hand slid down her spine to the small of her back and he broke off the kiss. “I’m not sure what you’re doing to me, but I think I need to stop kissing you.”
“I’m not sure I agree with you.”
“You don’t agree with me? Shock.” He pressed his forehead against hers, his hand palming the back of her neck. “I have to leave in a few minutes anyway.”
Sarah’s knees went boneless and she clung to Matt so he couldn’t get away. “Yeah? Why? How much time would you need?”
His eyes lit with humor. “For what?”
“For...more kissing and...um, whatever else might develop.”
“I’d rather not put a time limit on it if it’s all the same to you.” His lips teased her jawline and he nuzzled her neck.
“No. That sounds...um, good.”
He looked down at her and grinned. “Good?”
“Isn’t that your favorite word?” She teased.
“Not even close.”
“What is it, then?”
His eyes shifted right once. “Harder.”
“Your favorite word is harder?”
“For now.” He gave her a devilishly sexy grin as he pulled away.
She swallowed. “Okay. Then I’ll try to remember that.”
“See that you do.” He picked up his keys and grabbed his cell phone, moving toward the door.
Sarah watched him go. Harder. Now to find the perfect opportunity to use his favorite word.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
THIS AFTERNOON SARAH would meet Joanne for the first time. Joanne, who was the mother of Matt’s only child—who, despite the fact that they seemed to only tolerate each other, probably knew Matt a whole lot better than Sarah did.
Sarah took off early from work, rushing home to straighten up as much as possible. She thought Joanne might want to come inside and if she did, she’d want to find that her son had spent the week in a clean house. Matt would come later, stopping first to pick up Hunter, who’d spent part of the day with Matt’s father again.
Sarah cleaned up the dishes in the sink from this morning, swept the floor and tried her best to arrange the stacked and waiting cabinet doors. Hopefully her house didn’t look like a home improvement center. She arranged everything in the cabinets in an orderly fashion because without cabinet doors, it was almost the same as anyone being able to see inside her underwear drawer.
She let Shackles into the yard and heard the sound of a car door closing. Matt and Hunter were early. Maybe they could help her. Suddenly her house had never looked so...inadequate.
But when Sarah glanced outside, she didn’t see Matt and Hunter but the same vehicle that had dropped Hunter off last week. Joanne was making her way to the front door.
“Oh, crap.”
Joanne. Early.
Okay, no problem. Sarah could handle this. She’d done most of the straightening, anyway. Even if her house needed a little dusting—okay, a lot of dusting—Joanne would probably not be pulling a white glove out of her purse.
Sarah was at the door before Joanne could try the doorbell and find out that it didn’t ring, but crackled instead. Something else she had forgotten to mention to Matt. Plus, when it had worked, it was the strangest doorbell she’d ever heard. It played “Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer” year-round. One thing about her father was that he’d had a strange sense of humor. And horrible taste in music.
“Hi,” Sarah said. “You must be Joanne. I’m Sarah Mcallister.”
“Are Hunter and Matt here?” Joanne smiled pleasantly enough but she clearly didn’t want to waste any time with the preliminaries.
“They’ll be here at five. You’re a little early. Please come in.”
Joanne stepped inside. She was dressed in a halter top dress that showed off her slender arms and teeny-weeny waist. Sarah tried not to notice that Joanne was immediately assessing the living quarters. Perhaps she didn’t like the look of a home stuck in the middle of renovations. It was hard to entertain like this.
“We’re—I’m in transition.”
“I can see that. Hunter told me that he’s been helping you renovate.” She stepped into the kitchen, and got a nice view of everything in Sarah’s cupboards.
She might be blushing. Her cans were showing. She wished they were prettier, or at least low sodium.
“He’s been such a great help. Such a great kid.” Compliment the kid and how could you lose?
“Most of the time.” It seemed that Joanne wasn’t having a proud-mommy moment.
“Would you like something to drink while you wait?” Sarah opened the refrigerator door. �
��I have water, milk and soda.”
Joanne’s lip curled up like she’d smelled a rat. “You buy soda?”
Might be a trick question, so Sarah answered with a question. “Um, don’t you?”
“I won’t have it in the house. I’m not naive and I know Hunter has it when he goes to a friend’s house. But I won’t allow it. I won’t buy pizza, either, unless it’s gluten-free. No candy, either, of course.”
Sarah nodded in agreement but damn, no wonder they were both so thin. And no wonder Hunter was in a perpetually bad mood. She’d once tried a gluten-free diet for about a week, and wound up tearing everyone’s head off at work. Her boss had begged her to give wheat another chance.
“Not even a little treat now and then?” Should she confess now or wait until Joanne hauled her into an interrogation room?
Joanne laughed. “Oh, relax. I don’t expect everyone else to be the health nut that I am. Hunter grew up this way. Matt was always ‘fun dad.’ Always taking him to the fair and buying the cotton candy and the chili fries. I let it happen because I understood it had to be that way. Not seeing him for such long stretches made it a special occasion every time he did. I just made sure that I fed him healthy the rest of the time.”
“Tough job, but someone’s got to do it.” Sarah had a strange and sharp longing for her own mother, who’d let her have junk food on occasion.
“Exactly.”
There was too much silence, and Sarah rushed to fill it. “I think Hunter missed you.”
Her eyes widened. “Really?”
“Sure. You know how kids are. They might act one way on the outside but the truth is that they love their parents. And a boy needs his mother, whether he’ll admit to it or not.”
“He needs his father, too.”
“Wow. So true.”
There was another dead silence.
Sarah heard Shackles scratching on the glass door, as was his custom when his highness was ready to come back inside. Thank God she had a dog!
“Excuse me, please.”
She let Shackles inside and he trotted in like he owned the place. He stopped short when he noticed Joanne, gave her one big sniff, yipped once and then walked right past her. Good thing she wasn’t an ax murderer.
“You have a dog. How cute.”
“It’s more like he has me.”
“What’s his name?”
“Shackles.”
“That’s a strange name for a dog.”
“Well, yes. Yes, it is.”
Was that a car door she heard slam outside? Oh, joy! It had to be Matt and Hunter. Sarah walked back to the kitchen, Joanne following.
“Sounds like they’re here.”
Matt walked through first, followed by Hunter bringing up the rear. Joanne stood just inside the entrance, smiling, though her arms were folded across her chest. A protective, closed-off stance. Not that Sarah was going to overanalyze or anything like that. She was going to stop doing that any day now. When Hunter stepped inside, there was an awkward moment during which Sarah could swear that she saw an angel on one of his shoulders and a devil on the other. He was clearly caught in that heartbreaking shift between child and man and he obviously didn’t want to be too happy to see his mother. He shoved his hands into his jeans pockets and assumed an arrogant stance, his mouth set in a grim straight line.
But his shiny and wide eyes told Sarah another story. “Hey Jo—Mom,” Hunter said.
This was where Sarah exited stage left. Another private family moment where she didn’t belong.
She picked up Shackles and slipped out the back. She’d give Hunter and his parents some privacy. Although maybe it wasn’t the desire to give them privacy that forced her outside so much as the unwelcome memory that flooded back to her as she’d watched the exchange. Her earliest memories of her father were fuzzy and faded, but the one last clear memory was of the last summer she’d spent with Dad. She’d been thirteen, at an awkward stage, and deeply resented being forced to spend the summer in California and leave all her friends behind. An entire summer! It was the last year in which she’d have no choice in the matter. Stone had been fifteen and had already made his choice. Mom had cried and behaved as though she’d lost a limb. She’d have to spend all summer without either kid. But for Sarah, that choice had meant she’d finally spend the summer with her brother for the first time in about three years.
It had been the one and only thing she’d looked forward to in coming for her visit to California. Unfortunately, at fifteen, Stone had been as ass. He’d had a large group of friends he never invited her to join, been learning how to drive a car and had about five different girlfriends he juggled at once.
Setting Shackles down now, she opened up her shed. She hadn’t sketched at all this entire week. Like Matt, she’d been too caught up in work and the renovations. In feeding Hunter. But on a trip to the store this week she’d made a side stop at the local art supply store and bought acrylics and watercolors. She’d start painting this weekend.
Unless she could talk Matt into keeping her in bed all weekend, in which case she’d gladly come back to the painting at another time. Right now, she set up her easel with a new blank canvas and put the sketch of El Toro in line with the rest of the as-yet-unfinished work. It needed something. If only she could figure out what that something was. Matt thought it was people.
In so many ways, he was her diametric opposite, outgoing and gregarious while she was introverted and kept to herself. He’d drawn her out, though, and it wasn’t just because of his appearance. Matt had something else going for him besides his incredible intellect and looks. An indefinable quality that she assumed was the reason she’d crushed on him for so long. He’d been larger than life to her. But now this was so much more than a simple crush. It was real and rare and she’d be lying if she didn’t admit she was scared. Scared, sure, but excited about him, too. Alive.
Another scary thing? This blank canvas. There was nothing quite as intimidating as a wide-open space because she could go in any direction. Choose any medium she wanted. And also fail miserably. The point was to get started. Anywhere. Just draw. Because the beautiful thing about art, as all of her many teachers over the years had drilled in, was that everything could be fixed. It was never a lost cause. But as many times as Sarah told herself that simple and pure point, she didn’t want to start anything until she was sure of her direction. It was always much easier to start with perfect than to come back later and fix a huge mess.
Or worse, start over.
This was her life. She was thirty years old and couldn’t start all over now. She had a life in Fort Collins with people who respected her. Not an exciting life, but at least fully formed. Safe. Job, condo, friends. Mom was there, and she’d dedicated her entire life to Sarah. Been a great mother, even putting off her own career as a wannabe singer to take a job as a legal secretary so she could support the two of them after the divorce.
It was only right to go back to the home she’d always known, so why did she feel a hard pebble lodged in her throat every time she realized she was going to have to sell this house? She’d pushed herself into a corner and now she was in debt to Matt, too. She couldn’t afford to stay. Matt expected her to sell and give him his portion, and she couldn’t pay him back for the materials and his work otherwise.
Even if all else was out of the way, there was still Matt, unwilling to go that extra step with her. Either he didn’t trust her, or he didn’t trust himself. And she got it. Sex would change everything between them, but change wasn’t always a bad thing. She’d been afraid when she’d first come to Fortune. But more than afraid, she’d been too tired. Tired of feeling shut down and half-alive.
Shackles trotted up to Sarah and sat on her foot.
“Okay, you’re right. I’ll get started.” Sarah mixed some red acrylic paint, took her brush
and drew a curvy line from the top of the canvas to the bottom. She had no idea what she was doing. It was a line. A beginning.
She looked down at Shackles. “Happy now?”
“Actually, yeah,” Matt said from the entrance to the shed. “It has color.”
She turned briefly to Matt, surprised she hadn’t sensed him first, and then went back to her canvas. “Everyone gone?”
“Yep.” He took a few more steps and she sensed him, standing right behind her.
He was a warm and solid presence, and she wanted him so much that her longing spread like butter, scattering down her thighs and wrapping around the back of her knees. She’d never really met a man that made her feel both weak and strong at the same time.
“Joanne seems nice.”
“Sorry I missed introductions, but she knows about you.”
“What did you tell her?”
“That you’re a good friend of mine.”
Not sure how she felt about that too-accurate description, Sarah held her brush to the side and changed the subject. “I don’t think we were supposed to feed him pizza. Or soda.”
He shrugged. “Joanne has always lived on her own planet. I feel like a little of that now and then isn’t going to kill him.”
She met his eyes. “We agree. But on her own planet or not, she must have been very special to you at one time. First love and all.”
“Yeah, I guess.” He broke the gaze to check out the brush in her hand.
“That sounds so heartfelt,” she teased.
“Don’t really want to talk about her.” He took the brush from her. “It’s in the past.”
And he’d probably talk about Sarah the same way someday. With any luck, with a little more feeling than he seemed to have for his ex. “It’s in the past, but sometimes we need to talk about it to resolve it.”
“Not this guy.” His eyes told her the conversation was over.
And was she seriously going to feel threatened by Joanne? Okay, so she was skinny and pretty but that wasn’t what bothered Sarah. What bothered her was that she and Matt had such a special past together, one which had brought a child into the world. A person. They’d forever be linked no matter how far away they lived from each other. She was a little bit envious of that. When she left Fortune, she and Matt would have nothing to tie them together other than a special friendship. She hoped. Even the house they were working on together, pouring so much blood, sweat and tears into, would be gone to some other owner.
Airman to the Rescue Page 14
