Dreams Don't Wait (Contemporary romance)

by EC Sheedy

  Linc watched her go. There was something he didn't like about the way she walked away from him. He frowned. He thought he knew Evangeline North, or was at least starting to, but the set of her shoulders as she left him told him he still had a lot to learn. She's damn near as self-protective as I am. Which meant only one thing—it could be a long siege.

  * * *

  Evan let herself in, closed the cabin door, and leaned against it. What had she let herself in for? One week. That's what she'd said, and now after one day, she wasn't sure she could handle it. A week with a man like Linc, and he'd be set rock-hard in any woman's heart. Besides, she was so needy. She closed her eyes.

  So damned needy. She lost it when he kissed her, touched her, spoke to her in his deep, caressing voice. One week. She wanted it. Didn't want it. It was a mistake. It was right. She banged her head back against the door.

  You've got dreams, woman. You can't shove them aside the minute a man crooks his finger at you. You did that—twice—remember? You're supposed to learn from history, not repeat it.

  You were a kid; she argued herself. Yes, a kid, but you were still you, still the one who put her dreams on hold because of love, lust, or whatever. Nothing's changed.

  She stepped away from the door and headed for the shower.

  Dreams...

  Her crazy dreams, held onto for so long, it seemed they'd been a part of her forever.

  Could be that Lincoln Stewart is the best dream of all.

  She shut down that wistful voice in her head.

  She had a week and she'd take it—and not go beyond it. This she could do. Nothing more.

  She was curled up on the sofa with The Life of Elizabeth I when she heard Linc's rap on the door. She closed the book, but didn't get up.

  "Come in. The door's open." She tried to calm her thumping heart by hugging the book to her breasts.

  Linc stepped in and looked around. The room was lit only by Evan's reading lamp; it shone on her like a spotlight. He bent to kiss her lightly, careful to keep his hands behind his back. They were holding something.

  "What's that?" She gave him a stern look. "You're not going to ply me with alcohol again, are you?"

  "Nope, I'm on a whole new tack." He held out one hand with a flourish. "Apple pie. Specifically, Maud's apple pie. It was just sitting there, cooling, doing absolutely nothing, so... I lifted it." He raised his other hand. "And this is—"

  "Ice cream." Evan got to her feet, put her hands firmly on his shoulders, and pointed him toward the kitchen. "Take your ill-gotten gains in there and dish them out. It's best we destroy the evidence ASAP."

  "My plan exactly."

  They filled their plates with pie and ice cream and returned to the sofa. Rich coffee followed, with some smoky jazz providing accompaniment. Evan stared into the unlit fireplace, content and relaxed sitting there with Linc. Closing her eyes, she prayed she'd still be there in the winter to warm herself at the hearth's first blaze. And while her optimistic nature said, why not, another voice chided her weakness.

  In the next instant, Linc's hand curved around the back of her neck.

  "You're much too far away. Come here." He drew her across his lap and nuzzled at her throat. "You're beautiful," he whispered. "And it's been a pleasure to share my booty with you." He smiled at her before his eyes ranged upward to her dark hair. He lifted it to let it spill over his big hand. "I love your hair—like ebony silk." He crushed it in his fist and his eyes darkened, never lifting from hers. "I want you. I ache with wanting you."

  His words took her breath away—and what was in his eyes, more than lust, more than want, scared her. For a second she couldn't think. "You're sure that's not the oysters talking?" she asked, in a rocky effort to lighten things up.

  Seeming caught off guard by her flip comment, Linc tilted his head, didn't say anything for a second, then ruffled her hair. "You're determined not to let this get serious, aren't you?"

  "Wrong. My plan is to get very serious." And stay in the moment. That I can handle. Her hand flowed over the denim covering his erection, and she traced his zipper with one slow finger. He lifted toward her hand, and she pressed her palm flat against his rigid length.

  A second later she was pinned under him on the sofa. She grinned up at him. "Too serious for you?" she asked with feigned innocence. He took a deep breath, then his lip curled ominously. He held her hands over her head with one of his and started to undo the buttons on her blouse.

  "Teasing can be a dangerous game. One you could lose. You do know that?"

  "A girl can hope."

  He laughed, then finished his work undoing her buttons. When she was braless, he muttered his approval. He kissed one breast, then the other, before licking one pointed tip and taking it in his mouth. She squirmed under him, every nerve heightened by the pull of his mouth. His attention fully on her breasts, he let go of her arms, freeing his hands to mold their sides. She tangled her fingers in his hair. Golden silk. His teeth grazed a hardened nipple before he lifted his head to look at her. "Is that the game you had in mind?" He pulled down the zipper of her jeans.

  "Exactly," she mumbled, lifting to the hand he inserted between denim and silk. "Is there a time limit?"

  He kissed her ear, his breath a whisper. "No limits, love. No limits at all."

  * * *

  Thursday morning, before Linc left for the mainland, he strode the short distance to her cabin, kissed her potently enough to ensure she'd miss him, and told her he'd back in time for Maud to go see her sister.

  Evan stood on the porch, touched her fingers to her lips, and watched him go. Her emotions were a jumble. Since Sunday they'd scarcely been apart. She'd even passed up overtime at work, something she never did. She felt a twinge of guilt about that but not about the time, the precious stolen hours, she'd had with Linc.

  When she'd decided to spend time with him, she hadn't expected how deeply it would affect her. It wasn't because he was a spectacular lover—a faint flush warmed her cheeks at the thought of just how spectacular he was—or because of his lethal abundance of masculine charm.

  So what was it?

  Evan went into the cabin and idly picked up a few books and newspapers. Because he's funny, proud, possessive, arrogant, occasionally sweet, and—at times—achingly vulnerable, she thought. She loved his moods, his intensity, how dedicated he was to his work—and his eyes, at times contemplating her as though she were a fascinating riddle he couldn't solve. She stacked the newspapers in the recycling box.

  So what's the problem? She straightened.

  Maybe there wasn't one. Maybe...

  The air rushed from her lungs, and she sat, stunned, on the edge of the sofa. A shiver rippled through her, a mixture of excitement and fear. Until now she hadn't really considered it, but could she?...

  No!

  She stood as abruptly as she'd sat down. She paced.

  Crazy. She was crazy. Actually thinking of setting aside her dreams and plans—school, travel, all of it—to become Mrs. Lincoln Stewart! Marry Linc? It would never work. She paced some more. God, she even had Cal's approval.

  What about Jenny?

  Evan closed her eyes, and her love for Jenny merged with her feelings for Linc. She could take care of Jenny. Of course she could. She had raised Cal; she could raise Jenny. Everything could work out—if she wanted it to. All she had to do was put her own selfish goals aside.

  Weak, drained, and more than a little afraid, she stepped out on the porch and took a deep breath. She looked out on, but didn't see, the ocean and the clouds scudding on the horizon. Instead she saw a family—Linc, Jenny, Cal, and her—exactly the way Linc wanted it.

  Linc.

  She couldn't lie to herself; she loved him, deeply, wildly. Madly. All she had to do was put her dreams on hold, and give that love a chance. A smile played across her mouth.

  * * *

  "So I guess that's it. My taxi's here." Maud reached for her bag. "I'm sure Linc won't be much longer, Evan."

>   "Will you stop worrying, Maud. Just get going. Sometimes I think you and Linc have forgotten the reason I'm in that nice, very free, cabin? As I recall, it was for exactly this kind of emergency."

  "You know, I think we have forgotten. I guess we think of you more as a part of the family than a baby-sitter."

  "That's nice." Evan kissed the older woman lightly on the cheek. "Now go. Jen and I will be fine."

  "She's already eaten, and I told her she could watch a nature program. She should go to bed right after that. No excuses," Maud added firmly.

  Evan gave a mock salute. "Yes, ma'am. Now will you go?" After Maud left, Evan returned to the kitchen. She finished the few remaining dishes, then cuddled up with Jenny on the family-room sofa. The nature program, as it turned out, was about insects. In gruesome magnification, they foraged, killed, and ate one another. Evan was about to turn Jen's interest elsewhere when she noticed the child was falling asleep. She helped her off the sofa.

  "Come on, sweetie, I think we'd better get you to bed."

  Once upstairs, Evan tucked her in and kissed her. After yesterday's soul-searching, putting Jenny to bed on this night was different. A preview of nights to come? Evan wondered. She stroked back the sleeping child's pale hair. "Sleep tight, Jen," she said, pulling the door to a partial close and leaving a triangle of light at the base of her bed.

  Back downstairs, she settled back into the nature program, a cup of tea at her side, and waited for Linc. It wasn't long before she dozed off. Television was a reliable sedative.

  A short cry brought her awake abruptly. Disoriented, she cocked an ear to listen.

  "Evan," a weepy voice called out. "Are you there, Evan?" This was accompanied by a sad-sounding sniffle. Evan followed the sniffle to the landing at the top of the stairs.

  "I'm here, baby." She wrapped her arms around the shaking little girl and hugged her close. "What's the matter? Bad dreams?"

  Jenny nodded into her shoulder and wrapped her arms around her neck. "Spiders," she whispered. "Really, really big ones."

  Evan swung her into her arms. "I'm not surprised," she mumbled, thinking about the graphic nature program. "It's okay, sweetheart. There's no big spiders in Daddy's house, just nice teeny weeny ones, and they've all gone to sleep."

  Evan carried Jen to her bed and again tucked her in. When she started to go, Jenny reached for her. "Don't go, Evan. You sleep with me a little bit. Okay?" She shifted over to make room for her on the narrow bed.

  "Okay. But just for 'a little bit.' " Evan stretched out on the bed and took Jenny in her arms, spoon fashion. Jenny wasted no time snuggling closer.

  Sometime later, Evan lifted her wrist and, catching a shaft of light from the door, read her watch. Ten-twenty. She yawned and settled against Jenny. Wondering what was keeping Linc, she fell asleep.

  * * *

  Linc found them curled up together a half hour later. He stood for a long moment, shoulder against the doorway, staring at them. A woman and a girl. He loved them with a frightening passion.

  Evan stirred slightly, lifting a hand to brush idly at her cheek. He hoped she wouldn't wake. He wanted to keep looking. His throat was painfully tight.

  He'd thought he'd been in love before—and he'd been wrong. Terribly wrong. A crease centering briefly on his brow, he wondered for a moment why he was so certain he was right this time. Why his overwhelming certainty. When no answer came, he shook his head, went to the bed, and carefully extricated Evan from Jenny's possessive embrace.

  With Evan in his arms, he headed to his room. One step and she was awake. Sort of. "You're home," she mumbled sleepily into his neck. "I didn't hear you come in." She lifted her head to look at him.

  "Shush." He kissed her forehead and carried her silently to his bed. No, our bed, he told himself, and soon. If he had anything to say about it. He didn't know what was holding her back, but he intended to find out. He needed her. Jenny needed her.

  She put her arms around him and nuzzled the base of his neck. "A girl could get to like this being carried to bed thing. It's so... Rhett Butlerish."

  "Say the words, darlin', and I'll be happy to put you to bed every night."

  "Hm, sounds tempting. Will you tuck me in?"

  He felt her smile against the cords of his throat. His own lips curved in answer. "Along with a few other things."

  "Other things?"

  "Care for a demonstration?"

  "I love you, Linc."

  He nearly dropped her on the bed. "What did you say?"

  "Those are the magic words, aren't they?" She glanced up at him and smiled.

  "Evan, don't mess with me." This didn't process. The words he wanted so much to hear said out of the blue. No preamble—not that he was sure a preamble was necessary. Still coming so unexpectedly her statement had a stun-gun effect.

  She propped herself up on one elbow and reached for his hand, pulling him down to sit on the bed beside her.

  For a heartbeat, she was silent, but her gaze when she looked at him was unwavering.

  "I said, I love you. I don't know how it happened, or when. I just know I love you, and I wanted—needed—you to know that."

  Linc's chest contracted, and for a moment his vision clouded.

  The next instant she was in his arms, hard against his pounding heart. He held her without speaking, temporarily overcome by her words, their import. After a long moment, he settled back against the headboard and drew her across his chest.

  She tipped her head and frowned, a trace of uncertainty in her eyes. "You're supposed to say something, you know."

  "I am?" His thumb played lazily under the edge of her collar. "Like what?"

  "Oh, I don't know... Maybe something like I love you, too, Evan," she added dryly.

  "I already told you that." He grinned down at her. "I'll let you know when it changes."

  She closed her eyes a moment and shook her head. "Ah, romance. So indescribably sweet—so fleeting."

  He cupped her chin and lifted her face to his. "I love you, Evan. Until you, I didn't even know what love is. And if you like, I'll tell you that every day for the next fifty years, for the rest of—"

  She touched his mouth with one finger. "For now, let's leave it at tonight. Okay?"

  He hesitated. He wanted to ask why, to push for a decision. But his arms were filled with hot, willing woman—with Evan—and another part of his body was working itself up to do something about it. Questions could wait.

  "For now," he grumbled, bringing his mouth closer to hers. "God, how I love you," he whispered again before covering her lips with his.

  She strained toward him, the crush of her breasts firm against the wall of his chest, her mouth opening, yielding to his. His body tensed and hardened, and a low, rumbling groan massed deep in his throat. Evan bent one leg, lifting it to rest on, then rub against, his arousal.

  "Oh, baby..." He kissed her again, desperate now, wanting—needing—to be inside her. Deep inside. He turned, pinning her beneath him. His hands trembled when he started to undo the buttons on her blouse. A curse whistled through his clenched lips. He never trembled! He cursed again when a button came off in his hand. Where the hell was the smooth Linc Stewart when he needed him most?

  "Tear it, Linc."

  He lifted his head to look at the woman under him. She gave him an impish grin filled with a dare and a promise.

  He tore it.

  Chapter 11

  "That was a first," Linc said, a lazy finger tracing a path over her collarbone.

  They were contentedly tangled in the sheets of his massive four-poster—as was Evan's buttonless blouse.

  "For me too," Evan said, planting a soft kiss on his chest. She was glad Linc couldn't see the faint blush covering her cheeks. She had no idea what came over her when she was with him. Maybe her mother was right. Maybe she was a sinful wanton. But right now it seemed more than possible that she could enjoy making love with this man until she was a hundred years old. Just then his hand moved from her
shoulder to her breast in a tender caress. When he started to play with her nipple, she almost purred. Make that two hundred, she told herself, arching closer.

  "Evan?"

  "Uh-huh?" Her nipple hardened under his hand, and she drew in a sharp breath.

  "Are you, or are you not, going to marry me?" he asked.

  She stroked the muscles in his arm, then his shoulder, the movement somewhat jittery. She couldn't answer. She wanted to, but she couldn't.

  Linc waited before going on. "Is it Cal? Are you afraid he won't approve?" A tinge of worry colored his question.

  "Disapprove? I don't think so. He's already suggested I try to nab you."

  Linc laughed. "Smart kid." After a short silence, he added, "I would be proud to call him son. I want you to know that."

  Evan crossed her arms across Linc's chest and rested her head at an angle to look at him. Could it work? Could it? When she spoke, her throat started to tighten. "Cal would like that."

  Her words seemed to startle him. "Can I take that to mean the lady is weakening? Is that a 'yes' I hear?"

  "The lady takes the fifth."

  "Good, that means you're guilty as charged." He ran his fingertips down her back. "And as good as mine."

  "Linc, don't push—please." Or I'll say that yes. Yes, yes, yes! Her mind screamed it, yet still the word stuck hard in her throat. It should be easy... She curled her fingers in Linc's soft chest hair.

  "Is it pushing to tell you that Jen would be thrilled to have you for a mother? She's crazy about you, Evan."

  "It's mutual." That much at least was true, she thought, trying to ignore the slight heaviness around her heart. Why, when it came to Jenny, did she feel like a push-me-pull-you, a creature with two heads, each going in the opposite direction?

  Linc chuckled softly. "The truth is, I'm a bit jealous. She can't get enough of you. Even as a full-time mother, I'd bet she'd be trailing you around."

  "Full-time mother?" she echoed.

  Linc didn't answer her non-question.

  "I'd have to quit my job," she added stupidly.

  Linc kissed her forehead. "You won't need to work. I'll take care of Cal's tuition, if that's what you're worried about. I've never had the impression you were strongly committed to Moore Write. Was I wrong?" He twisted his head to look down at her.