The sexy librarian. That was what happened. Her reserved, cautious manner called out to his deep, protective nature. Though perfectly capable of handling herself, she opened up and shared her vulnerability. Vulnerable and sexy, a lethal combination for him. Washing up the dishes, he contemplated the upcoming meeting with her family. Was this a test? Since Belle, no woman had ever taken him home to meet the family. Once again he'd jumped off without looking. He'd offered to meet the family, and he still didn't have the woman's damn cell phone number. Hopefully, the ground would be soft when he hit the bottom 'cause he sure as hell couldn't stop his descent.
The dishes done, he grabbed some clean clothes from his duffel bag and hit the shower. The water offered little relief from the growing pressure in his chest. He rubbed the back of his neck to ease the tightness. Old demons clawing their way into his happiness. Would Melodie use him as countless other women had? The sex was good, friggin' amazing even. They'd both been pretty honest about the baggage they brought into the relationship—at least he assumed she'd done the same. There'd been a flash of something when he mentioned her being a great mom. Maybe she'd had an abortion or given a child up for adoption when she was younger? That aside, the surprise at his offer to accompany her to the event seemed genuine, but he'd been fooled by less beautiful and intriguing women.
Could Melodie be different? He considered the possibility the innocence might be an act she'd honed over the years. The cooling water renewed his resolve. Cause and effect. He'd find the best damn outfit, be a Southern gentleman, and prove he could be everything she needed. If the big bad wolf emerged from innocent red riding hood's cloak, he'd pack up and leave.
Or…if she turned out to be every bit as wonderful as he believed she was, he'd fight his biggest enemy—himself—to justify his right to this kind of happiness. He sighed. The second choice may prove the most difficult.
Turning off the stream of water, he rested his forehead against the wet tile. The constant battle of worthiness that raged inside his soul drained the energy from his body. The relationship game never ended in his favor, which was why he'd stopped playing. Despite his ability to lie to others, he couldn't lie to himself. If he couldn't make this work with Melodie, he'd never make it work with anyone.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
"Tell me more." Lydia's voice carried louder than appropriate for a library.
"Shhh! Lower your voice before you draw the attention of every person in a three block radius, including our boss."
Lydia's dark black hair swayed as she nodded in agreement from the other side of the shelf. A couple of thick books were removed, and her spectacle-framed blue eyes came into view. "Sorry, but this is a fairy tale worthy story, and you're the main character. I've been married for fifteen years to the same man, living in suburban Chicago with two-point-three kids and a dog. My life needs a little excitement."
The sparkle in Lydia's eyes was contagious, and Melodie couldn't help but share in her enthusiasm. "This is so unlike me. It feels…weird." And exhilarating all at the same time. I've fallen…fallen hard.
"Nice word choice," the older woman laughed as she moved more books around.
She sighed. Daniel had that effect on her. "He defies explanation. My reaction to him defies explanation. He's taken every protective wall I've built around myself and effectively knocked them over with a battering ram."
"He's at your house right now?"
"He was there when I left." Fear gripped her heart. Would he be there when she returned? Ugh, this was worse than high school dating.
"Are you going to move to Mississippi to be with him?" Lydia finished restocking her shelf and joined Melodie on her side to assist.
"Move? I guess I haven't thought that far ahead. I only met him a little over a week ago. I can't pick up my entire life and move away from my family for a man I met last week."
"Now, all of a sudden, you're worried about being away from your family? I thought you couldn't stand to be around them."
"I can't. Well, except my dad. I'd miss him." She'd always been close with her dad. They'd been ports of safe haven for each other in the crazy storm of ambition her mother and sister generated as easily as they breathed.
"Your father would want you to be happy."
Did Daniel make her happy? Equal parts happiness and misery so far. "I don't know. He has to survive the first family get together, and we'll go from there."
"You should call and check in. See how he's doing. Let him know you're thinking of him. My husband always loves that, even if he won't admit it to any of his buddies."
"I…" She stopped.
"What?"
"Damn."
"Melodie?"
She sat on the step stool, a stack of books resting on her lap, chuckled, and looked at her coworker and friend. "I still don't have his cell number."
Lydia leaned up against the wall of books. "Let me get this straight. You meet this man and go on a couple of dates, which include staying out all night. You invite him to your hotel room, he shows up at your place of business, you invite him back to your place and have mind-blowing sex—several times, I might add. He makes you breakfast and offers to rescue you from a family social event, and you still don't have his cell number?"
Melodie's eyes closed as the irony of the situation washed over her. "No. No, I don't."
Lydia's laughter filled the air, prompting a shushing from somewhere in the room. "I suggest you remedy that little issue tonight as soon as you get home."
"I will, I promise. Now help me finish putting away these books before I lose my job and have to move back in with my parents."
"Or with Daniel…" The idea hung in the air around the top shelf of the self-help books.
"Let it go." She couldn't think that far ahead. She wanted to, but her heart needed a break from relationship pain, so one slow step at a time.
Lydia sighed dramatically. "Fine, but I want to see a picture soon. Old gals need to have fantasy material, you know."
She nudged the woman. "You're not old, and your husband is a dream."
"Yeah, yeah. Back to work."
Melodie forced her thoughts back to the Dewey Decimal system and prayed Daniel's presence in her life turned out to be more than a dream.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
"Daniel? Are you still here?" Her sweet voice filtered into the living room where he'd spent the last hour or so waiting for her return, while thumbing through the countless cable channels.
"In here. Your television channels suck, by the way." He patted the area next to him on the couch. "How was work?"
She grabbed the beer from his hand and took a quick swig before settling in next to him and tucking her feet underneath her legs. "I never watch television, and the kids in the after-school reading group were wired today. How was shopping?"
"I found something presentable. Thought I'd wear it to dinner tonight for your approval. While I was out shopping, I found a great restaurant to try inside the Bass Pro Shop."
Her nose wrinkled in an adorable fashion. "A restaurant inside the Bass Pro Shop? You catch it—we cook it kind of deal?"
"Not exactly. The menu looked great and I've been jonesing for some good seafood. We have six o'clock reservations so you need to shower and change."
"Do I smell?"
He buried his nose in the curve of her neck, inhaling her scent. She wore lilac, and it suited her well.
Not sure that it mattered, but he prided himself on noticing details. "You smell delicious, but I figured you'd want a shower to freshen up."
Her leg swung over his lap, straddling his lower body. "Want to freshen up with me?"
This woman served equal parts of shy and seductress. "As tempting as that sounds, I have other plans for tonight."
Disappointment settled over her rosy cheeks. "For the entire night?"
His hands slid to her neck and pulled her pouting lips to his for a steal-your-breath kind of kiss. He wanted to join her in the shower…in the bed
…hell, even against the wall again, but he wanted something more from tonight—from this relationship. "Let's have dinner, talk, and then we'll see where the rest of the evening takes us. Deal?"
She stood, dropping the temperature in the room a few degrees, and prompted him to rethink his plans for tonight. Be responsible. Long-term goals. He'd made himself a deal to change his focus from short-term to long-term plans after wallowing in self-pity for the better part of the day. Earlier, doing the right thing pumped his chest with pride. With Melodie straddling his body, offering a wild night of sex, other areas of his body pumped in response. Yeah, being responsible sucked.
"What do you want to talk about?"
He swatted her behind and somehow managed to ignore her perfect ass. "Get ready, woman. I don't like being late."
Thirty minutes later, he whistled as she stepped into the living room. Find the right words. Damn, she looks good. He didn't bother much with fashion, brand names, and styles as he was a minimalist—the less clothing women wore, the better. A straight black skirt with strappy high heels provided the backdrop for an emerald blouse. Satin, if he had to guess. The color highlighted her eyes and made them even more beautiful, if that was possible. "Very classy."
She smiled at his compliment and gestured to her outfit. "What? This old thing?"
He pulled her into a kiss, wanting to show her with actions, where he knew words would fail him. His tongue swept across her ruby lips before tasting the peppermint of her toothpaste. As her hands slid up and down his back, he started to dismiss the idea of dinner. Then her stomach rumbled.
"Hungry?"
The blood in his body heated a few degrees as her hands slid up his crisply pressed, dark navy shirt. "Mmmm, but I'm not sure if it's more for dinner or dessert. You look pretty handsome yourself, by the way."
Stepping back, he struck a model pose. "What? This old thing?"
For his effort, he received a punch in the arm. "The old thing you bought earlier today?"
Taking her hand, he grabbed her purse and handed it to her. "Yes, the very one. Now let's go before they give our reservations away."
"Wait!" Melodie stopped and pulled out her cell phone. "Before we do one more thing together, I want your cell number."
"Are you sure you're ready for that level of commitment? That means I can call or text whenever I want." He let his fingers slide down her porcelain cheek.
She took his phone and handed hers over so he could input his information. His fingers trembled as he typed in the digits, a slight sheen of perspiration covering them. She represented the third woman he'd ever given his number to. First Belle, then Alana, and now Melodie. He handed her phone back, a little damper than when she turned it over. Was he ready for this level of commitment?
* * *
"Well, as much as I hate to admit it, dinner here ranked pretty high on the places I'd like to eat again list."
Daniel patted his belly. "Food and women, two things I know a lot about."
"I won't argue with you on the food but an expert on women? I might challenge you on that point, sir."
He leaned in, elbows on the table, blue eyes searching for something…something deep within her soul. "Now that I've been totally honest with you, I want you to be honest with me. There's something in those beautiful eyes of yours, a hesitation that tells me there's something more than your family dynamics and Tom's death that is causing you pain." He offered a small smile. "Now that we've exchanged cell numbers and taken our relationship to a more involved level, I think we should put all our cards on the table."
His words sent in the troops responsible for lifting the gates around her heart, putting her immediately on guard. "Exchanging cell numbers gives you the right to ask personal questions? So much for your almighty knowledge on women."
Large hands captured hers and pulled her closer. She did a quick check to make sure her blouse wasn't soaking up any of the leftovers on her plate. Once the material proved safe, she had no choice but to find his gaze again. Dread filled the remaining space left in her stomach. What could he possibly ask? Very few secrets. Only one.
"Since I've only given my number to two other women, for me it means something."
For only a moment, she allowed herself to think this made her special, but then she remembered. The memory pierced her heart with reality. "Makes sense. If you were only interested in a one-night stand, why bother with exchanging numbers. Use 'em and lose 'em, right?"
His eyes flashed and darkened. "Damn it, woman, you have more security and defense strategies built around your heart than Bin Laden and Saddam put together."
Reflection and redirection represented two of the primary weapons in her arsenal for the ongoing battle against her mother and sister. Old habits were hard to break. Yet Daniel had broken a couple of his habits by spending more than one night with her and sharing his cell number. "I'm sorry. I'm not the sharing type. For what it's worth, I've shared more with you than anyone else…ever."
Daniel ignored both her avoidance and her admission. "Tell me why those gorgeous eyes of yours get haunted every time the subject of children comes up."
She pulled her hands away, the subject too painful—too fresh—too devastating. It was painful for him to share, yet he did. "I really don't like talking about it. Can we go home now?" Lifting one hand, she signaled the waiter for the check.
Daniel moved her plate aside before recapturing her hands. "After everything we've shared with each other, secrets from the past, I can't imagine this being any worse."
A renegade tear escaped and moistened her cheek. Not wanting him to see her cry again, she wiped the tear away and leveled a sad look in his direction. "You wouldn't be able to imagine, as you are both a man and a father."
The waiter arrived and halted conversation. Daniel immediately pulled out his card and placed it on the tiny tray with the bill, not even looking at the amount. "You have a lot of preconceived notions about men."
"Cause and effect, remember?" She wanted this night to be over. She'd been wrong. Daniel's larger-than-life presence was too much for her quiet and reclusive ways.
The waiter returned, and Daniel signed the check. "Ready to go?"
Mutely she nodded, ignoring the irritation oozing from every pore of his muscled and well-toned being. Not telling him was the right thing, she was sure. None of his business. She'd told no one her secret, certainly not her family. Once they knew…Once he knew…
The ride home transpired in silence. Several times she started to tell him. Her mouth opened and then closed, unable to find the right words to explain. Maybe more than words, it was fear that kept her from sharing. Fear that whatever they had would be over. Finally, they arrived back at her place after she'd endured the longest fifteen minutes of her life. For some unexplainable reason, her heart somersaulted in her chest when he followed her inside. He was staying.
Time to try to salvage this night. "Coming to bed? I know the cable channels suck, but I'm sure I can find some way to entertain you."
He kissed her cheek.
Not a good sign.
"I'm going to grab a pillow and crash on the couch tonight, if it's still alright I stay."
Her eyes blinked rapidly as her muscles tightened, requiring a concerted effort not to tremble in front of him. She didn't want him to leave. Even more so, she wanted him to stay. "Of course you can stay. Where else would you go?" Please don't say home. Please don't say home!
Broad shoulders shrugged. "Wouldn't be the first night I've spent in a hotel."
She forced her voice to stay calm and even. "No need. You can stay here and," she reached out and put her hand tentatively over his heart, wanting…needing to touch him, "sleep wherever you're most comfortable. Besides, if you leave, you'll never know what kind of breakfast I'm capable of serving."
Focus became difficult as her eyes were drawn to his fingers, the same ones responsible for so much of her pleasure over the past twenty-four hours. Her hand dropped as she watched him
unbutton his shirt. She swallowed hard when his six-pack came into view. Desire pulsed low in her abdomen as his pants followed, leaving only the black boxers. Images of his beautiful body moving over her flooded her mind, prompting her to squeeze her legs together a little tighter to ease the ache building at an unbearable level with each innocent—or not so innocent—movement.
He slid onto the couch, the long lines of his body decorating her cushions better than any pillow or throw she could purchase. "I'm most comfortable right here. Good night, Mel." His hand reached for the remote.
The longing and need in every feminine part she possessed demanded she try one more time. "Why won't you come to bed?"
His eyes locked on hers, the gaze flat and unemotional. "Cause and effect."
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
It wasn't even ten on a Friday night, and he was in bed. Hell, not even in bed. On a couch—a cold, lonely couch. It was his own damn fault. The woman of his dreams was flipping through the same channels not twenty feet away from him. He adjusted the pillow for the tenth time since he'd sent Melodie away without so much as a proper good night kiss. She'd wanted more—a lot more. They always did. They wanted his body, his money, but not his heart.
He pounded the pillow for good measure. He believed, deep down, Melodie tipped the scales differently than other women. He wanted her to be different…needed her to be different. Muting the volume, he listened for sounds coming from her room. After a few minutes, the dramatic music indicated she'd tuned in to a chick flick. Women! It wasn't enough she kept her nose buried in a fictional world. She watched those same stories brought to life on the small screen. No wonder men had a hard time measuring up. Most, if not all, of the men in the books and on television were being written by women. Of course, they'd always say the right thing and get the girl in the end.
More Than One Night Page 11
