Dealing with Annie

by Jill Shalvis

  Her eyes flared, her mouth opened just a little, both helpless actions making him moan. When he flicked open her bra, she lifted her hands but he caught them in his. “Let me look at you.” His voice sounded rough to his own ears, and he slid his lips over her skin, sucking on a patch of skin at her shoulder. “Mmm. Soft…” He opened his mouth on a full, creamy, beautiful breast, letting out another hoarse groan as one nipple filled his mouth, the other his palm.

  “Ian.” She gripped his arms tight, and her head fell back as she gasped for breath.

  “More?”

  “More.”

  He took her hands in his, sliding them down his abdomen.

  Their eyes caught.

  Connected.

  Her touch left a trail of heat in its wake, and he took their joined fingers farther, until they danced over the bulge in his jeans.

  Her touch ripped a rough sound from his throat. Annie’s gaze stayed on his, wide and dazed and so filled with desire she took his breath. She stroked him through the denim, and through a blinding sexual haze, he realized he’d been hard since their first kiss, and was even harder now. His hips arched, pushing himself into her hand, a primal, basic reaction. He was going to explode, but he planned on being inside her when he did. Had to be inside her. To that end, he flipped the button on her pants, slid the zipper down and assisted her clothing to the floor until she stood before him, gloriously nude. Her breasts were still wet from his mouth, glistening in the faint glow of the night, and when he slipped his fingers into her soft, sweet folds, her breath came in short, panting gasps against his shoulder.

  “Annie,” he whispered, and she let out a soft hum of pleasure, which turned into a cry when he rasped his thumb over her very center, increasing the pressure and rhythm in tune to her helpless gasps.

  He swallowed her breath when it came faster, kept up the teasing torment, and when her body went tight, then shuddered with her release, he was slow in retrieving his hand from between her legs, slow in lifting his mouth from hers, because he didn’t want to let go.

  She stood in front of him breathing hard, her eyes wide open in wonder, her breasts tight, nipples hard. Unsteady on her feet, she weaved, her eyes heavy and sleepy and sexy as hell. “My God…that hit me like a freight train.”

  “Just don’t fall asleep,” he begged, and scooped her into his arms.

  Fall asleep? Dizzy, deliciously languid, Annie clung to him, thinking she could easily do just that, if she didn’t want so much, much more. She yawned. Stretched. Felt like a cat with cream. “I’m not falling asleep—” She gasped as he tossed her onto the bed. Opening her eyes, she watched him pull his shirt over his head, take a condom out of his pants before tossing them aside. Oh, my. Oh my, oh my, was he magnificently built.

  Towering over her, he put a hand on either side of her hips. Eagerly, she ran her hands up his sinewy, tense arms, nearly purring. “I’m wide awake,” she promised, lifting her legs to cradle his hips.

  “Thank God.” He ran a hand up her thigh, urging her to spread her legs even wider.

  Outside, the sound of the wind in the trees was rhythmic, lulling, the same way the sound of Ian’s unsteady breath was. Annie could feel his heat, absorb his strength, and when he drew her closer, then sank into her, he dispelled the emptiness inside her, faded it away to nothing, replaced instead by a yearning, a tempestuous need she wouldn’t deny herself, or him.

  Between the wind outside and the storm brewing inside, reality had no place on her bed. There was nothing but masterful, intuitive, passionate lovemaking. The friction of his thrusts combined with the relentless greed of her own body had her mindless, tossing her head back and forth on the pillow, his name being torn from her lips with every soughing breath she gasped. He drove her higher, then higher still, and at the last minute slid a hand between their bodies, dancing his fingers right above where they were joined, until with a startled cry she broke into another orgasm. She was still caught in its grips when he found his own shattering climax.

  Stunned by the power of what had just happened, limp as a wet noodle, and completely incapable of moving a single muscle, Annie concentrated on drawing air into her lungs. She’d never experienced anything remotely as intimate, as fiery, as right, as this.

  “This” being falling in love.

  She didn’t fool herself, of course. Ian wasn’t a man who’d fall easily, and he certainly wouldn’t stay there. No, he needed danger and excitement and adventure. He needed to be wild and free.

  No regrets, she told her aching heart, and instead of thinking about it, dwelling on it, she concentrated on the here and now, concentrated on how it felt to have her arms and legs entwined with his, their hearts pounding against each other, their slick skin melding together.

  She could have happily stayed there forever.

  But all too soon, Ian lifted his head from where he’d had his face plastered to the side of her throat. Unable to help herself, she gave her feelings away by tightening her arms on him. Embarrassed at the neediness in the gesture, she forced herself to let go.

  But Ian didn’t move away at all. Apparently as content as she, he kissed her jaw, her ear, and eventually she stopped waiting for him to vanish, drifting off to a secure, deep and far more relaxed sleep than she’d had in a very long time.

  * * *

  IAN DREAMED. HE DREAMED he went back to New York, where he buried himself in his job. There was no Cooper’s Corner, no potbellied pigs, no Tubb’s Café, no Cooper’s Corner General Store, where everyone knew everyone’s name. There was no joy, no laughter.

  No Annie.

  That made him panic. She’d given him a glimpse of something bigger than sex, something more than a one-night quickie with a woman whose name he hardly knew. With Annie, he’d gotten a glimpse of what life could be, should be, filled with happiness and contentment.

  A glimpse, that’s all. There was no guarantee he’d even have next week, much less any kind of forever.

  Still, he woke with Annie’s name on his lips, and sat straight up, wanting her.

  She wasn’t warm, naked and next to him, as he’d hoped. Instead, she stood next to the bed wearing a blouse and dark blue trousers that showed off her curves and gorgeous legs. Her hair had been tamed into some shiny clip, her lips were all shiny and smelling like peaches.

  He wanted to gobble her up in one bite. As he looked her over, remembering how many times she’d cried out his name in the middle of the night while he’d been busy making her come undone in every way possible, she pulled back her hands and flushed guiltily.

  And he realized she’d been about to set a piece of paper on the nightstand. “Tell me you weren’t leaving me a Dear John note,” he said in a voice craggy from sleep and rough with what he could never admit was fear.

  Her short, mirthless laugh didn’t appease him in the least, and she let out a little sound of exasperation when he reached behind her and grabbed the note.

  Falling to his back, he unfolded the paper, his gut sinking like a ball of lead, effectively shriveling the most excellent morning hard-on he’d had. “Dear Ian,” he read out loud. “I’m running in to see Aunt Gerdie. Thank you for last night—”

  He looked over at her dryly. “‘Thank you’? You’re thanking me?”

  “Well…” When he just stared at her for a long moment, silently reminding her with every passing second exactly all the ways they’d pleasured each other in the night, her blush deepened. “I was trying to be polite.”

  “Polite?” He sat up, ignoring the way her eyes widened as the sheet fell away from his body. She’d already seen it all. Hell, she’d touched and kissed and licked every inch, but he was too frustrated, hurt, and yeah, pissed, to gently point that out. “Let’s forget polite. I’m not feeling particularly polite.”

  She put her hands on her hips and glared at him. Sure as he was breathing, he knew she hadn’t often been called to the mat on her feelings or emotions, if ever.

  Too bad.

  “
Last night we both said, we both agreed, that this was a one-night thing,” she said. “A comfort thing.”

  “Baby, last night wasn’t about comfort.” In fact, it’d been damn uncomfortable, as he’d realized just how much she was starting to mean to him. Already meant.

  “This is ridiculous.” She tossed up her hands. “I’m going to the clinic.”

  With a sigh for what might have been great morning sex, he got out of the bed. “Not alone, you’re not.”

  At the sight of him, naked as a jaybird, she slapped her hands over her eyes.

  “It’s a little late now,” he said on a rough laugh, and shoved his legs into his jeans.

  “Are you always so…so comfortable in your skin?” she demanded, eyes still closed, though he would have sworn she was peeking.

  “I’m comfortable with you.”

  Her eyes flew open.

  “Get used to it,” he said softly.

  “Is getting used to it really worth my time?” she asked just as softly. “For something that was only supposed to be for one night?”

  “What’s going on with us is going to last longer than one night.”

  “How much longer?”

  Well, she had him there, the undisputed king of one-nighters. When he didn’t, couldn’t, answer, she slowly nodded and led the way out of her bedroom.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  DR. DORN SAID HE’D LET Aunt Gerdie go under the condition she’d get checked out fully in a hospital by her long-time doctor in New York. Annie drove her into the city, followed by Ian, because he absolutely refused to let the two of them go alone.

  He drove separately, because his plan was to see them safely to the doctor’s office, then meet with Commander Richards, so he could tell him he needed…what? Well, at least another week. His leg—Ah, hell. It wasn’t his leg. It was nothing he could put into words at all.

  At the doctor’s office he saw them ushered and seated in a patient conference room, and then moved to the door.

  “You’re leaving?” Annie’s smile was brittle. “Of course you are—”

  He put a finger over her soft lips and looked into her eyes. “I need to talk to my commander.”

  “Right. You said. It’s okay—”

  “I’ll be right back, Annie.”

  She nodded, and he cupped her face. Stared into her eyes. “I’ll be right back,” he repeated, and kissed her softly.

  “Mmm-hmm,” Aunt Gerdie said the moment the door shut behind him. “That man is so very fine.”

  Annie sighed, still staring at the door. “So fine,” she agreed.

  * * *

  COMMANDER RICHARDS STOOD in his office and offered Ian his annual review five months early, complete with a salary increase if he’d come back immediately.

  “I’ll think about it,” Ian said, and Richards nearly blew a gasket.

  “Think about it?” He paced the length of the room. “You used to live for this job, McCall, so snap the hell out of it and get your ass back to work, we need you.”

  The office door slammed behind him when he left.

  Ian got up slowly and went for Steve, but couldn’t find him.

  “His brother died,” a dispatcher told him.

  Ian thought of his own brother, and felt a stab of pain for Steve.

  Life was damn short.

  Too short. With that, he walked right out of the office that had once meant everything to him.

  * * *

  IAN WASN’T HAPPY WHEN HE got back to the doctor’s office and found Aunt Gerdie waiting for test results from her physical, and Annie gone.

  “She went to work,” Aunt Gerdie said with a tsk. “Said she’d be right back.”

  “Damn it— Sorry,” he muttered, and turned in a slow, frustrated circle. “I told her I’d be right back. I wanted her to wait.”

  “Next time, you should probably ask instead of tell,” Aunt Gerdie suggested.

  “Why did she go?”

  “Oh, dear. If she knew I was telling on her…”

  “Tell,” he said through his teeth, then forced a smile. “Please?”

  “There you go,” she said proudly. “You see? You’re learning.”

  “Aunt Gerdie.”

  “Yes. Well, she took another of those nasty crank calls.”

  “What?” He could feel his blood pressure rising. “Who was it, what did they say?”

  “She didn’t want to tell me, but she went so pale she gave herself away. She always did have such a creamy complexion that I could read every little expression on her face—”

  “The call,” Ian said as calmly as he could. “What did they say?”

  “Well, he was male, I could just barely hear the low baritone from here. Rough. Gruff.” Aunt Gerdie shivered. “Scary, I can tell you that. He said ‘an eye for an eye.’ So then Annie called Jenny and said she was going into the office. I think she thinks the calls are coming from Jenny somehow, but I don’t agree.”

  Ian stared at her, the words running in his head. An eye for an eye…God.

  He picked up the pink-with-white-polkadots cell phone. “Why is it here instead of with her?”

  “She left it for me so I could call her if I needed to.”

  He hit the option button.

  “You doing the nosy-body thing?” she asked hopefully. “Because that’s a huge invasion of privacy—”

  He pushed Call Log.

  “Yes, perfect. Come closer so I can see, too. And maybe accidentally hit the last-call-received button?”

  “One step ahead of you.” Ian stared down at the number and felt everything inside him freeze.

  “What? What is it?” Aunt Gerdie craned her neck to see. “Why, that’s…that’s yet another New York area code. A cell phone, too.”

  Yes, and one he recognized all too well.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  ANNIE’S GARDEN’S MAIN offices were on the twentieth floor of a beautiful glass-and-brick building on the east side of Manhattan, and, entering them again, Annie couldn’t help but look around at all she and Jenny had created together. Hard to believe she’d started in her dorm bathroom with one scratched, rusted sink and twelve square inches of counter space.

  In the elevator she ran into none other than Stella Oberman.

  “It’s not enough that you’re stalking me in Massachusetts,” Annie said with a sigh. “You have to do it right in my own building?”

  Stella stared at her. “What?”

  “Are you stalking me or not?”

  “I don’t know whose crack pipe you’ve been smoking, but I don’t do the stalker thing. And I’ve never so much even set foot in Massachusetts—Well, okay, once. For a cousin’s wedding, but that was only because she wasn’t allowed in the state of New York at the time.”

  Annie looked her over for sarcasm, but Stella seemed genuine.

  “You want to tell me what the hell is going on?” Stella asked slowly. “And why in the world you would think I’d be after you?”

  “Last year. The Christmas party for Sak’s Fifth,” Annie said. “We were all standing around that huge fountain drinking champagne, and someone jokingly asked if my company got bigger than yours, what would you do? And you said—”

  “I said I’d kick your pretty little ass. And okay, yes, then I said I’d stomp on Annie’s Garden for fun.” She let out a husky laugh. “I’d had more than a few glasses of champagne at the time.”

  “I see…” She certainly sounded innocent. “What about the articles in the paper?”

  “Oh, that’s me.” Stella smiled. “I never said I didn’t do that.”

  Annie sighed. “Why are you here?”

  Stella blinked at her. “Well, I’m—”

  The elevator door opened. Jenny stood there, just outside her office. She took one look at Stella and Annie, and let out a startled breath, reaching out to slam the door shut. “Hi!” she said brightly, too brightly, blocking her closed door. “Annie, you’re back!”

  “For the moment.” Ann
ie looked at the closed door. “What are you guarding?”

  “Um…” Jenny looked at Stella.

  “Oh, would you like me to go first?” Stella asked knowingly. “Fine, then. I was looking for you, Jenny. I was just wondering when you’re going to respond to my most excellent proposal to buy you out of Annie’s Garden. I mean, honestly, I offered you enough money to buy the moon, the least you can do is respond.”

  Jenny closed her eyes.

  Annie widened hers. “What?”

  Stella just smiled smugly.

  Annie looked at Jenny.

  Jenny didn’t look at Annie.

  Stella cocked her head innocently at Annie. “You didn’t know?” She turned to Jenny and waggled a perfectly manicured finger. “Tsk, tsk.”

  Jenny opened her mouth, but just then her office door opened, and out came…

  Annie was flummoxed. “Dennis? What are you doing?”

  Medium built and looking like the proverbial California surfer with his blond hair and green eyes, Dennis let out a grim smile. “I can tell you one thing I’m doing, I’m damn tired of hiding.” He turned to Jenny. “I’m tired of hiding us.”

  “Us?” Annie shook her head. “Okay, hold it. I’ve entered the Twilight Zone, right?”

  Jenny turned pale.

  Stella just kept smiling.

  “Oh, Annie.” Jenny’s face crumpled. “I’ve been hiding something. Two somethings. I was afraid to tell you about the offer from Stella until I’d told you about Dennis. God. Those two things are going to be the death of me.”

  Annie’s head was spinning. “You got an offer for your shares and you didn’t tell me?”

  “Oh. So that’s more important than me,” Dennis said. “Thanks.”

  “I’m sorry.” Jenny covered her face. “Dennis wanted to tell you that we’d fallen in love, but I was afraid you’d be weird about it because he left you. I was never sure if you’d gotten over him.”