“What do we do about it?” she asked and rested her hands on his shoulders, soothing the strong line of them because she couldn’t resist touching him.
“I want you. I think you know that. But I want more than just this, and I think you do too.” He ran his hands up and down her back, his touch gentle. As he met her gaze, his crystal-blue eyes were filled with determination but also understanding.
“I do,” she admitted, and with his help guiding her off his lap, they sat facing each other again on the couch.
“We should call it a night then. We’re going to be running around a lot tomorrow.” He rose from the couch and held out his hand. She slipped her hand into his, and he walked her to her bedroom door, waiting there for a second before brushing a quick kiss across her lips. “Night, Connie.”
“Night, Jon,” she said, but she couldn’t resist adding, “Dream of me.”
A sad smile crept onto his lips, and he cupped her cheek. “I always do.”
* * *
Mary Sanders, the real estate agent, was obviously frustrated. They had visited more than half a dozen houses in Sea Kiss and the adjacent towns. Each residence had more than met Jonathan’s criteria. Each one was beautiful in its own way, but not one of them had been acceptable. Connie suspected that it was because not one of them was the Pierce beach house.
With little success in the hunt for a home, Mary turned her attention to the search for the new location for the research and development center for Jonathan’s business. At his request, they started at the old guitar manufacturing building across the tracks from the Sea Kiss train station, just blocks away from the heart of the town.
There was something stately about the look of the place with its stucco walls, detailed woodwork on the window frames and doors, and the clock tower with the hands permanently frozen at 3:35. Inside, the plaster walls needed work and paint, as vandals had gotten in and spray-painted their tags in some areas. The first floor must have been a display area of some kind at one point, since there was a large open space in the middle flanked by a half dozen or so nice-sized offices.
Jonathan was silent as they walked through the building, his gaze darting from one area to another until he finally said, “We could open up the back wall into the parking lot to allow us to bring in some models for display.” Whirling, he swept his hand across one row of offices and said, “And those could be used as classrooms for the coding workshops I want to hold for anyone who wants to take the classes.”
They walked up the stairs to tour the three other floors, avoiding the elevator in the corner that needed to be totally rehabbed. The two middle floors were in fairly good shape, but the upper story had signs of water damage, as did the clock tower. Despite that, Jonathan had a gleam in his eye and a smile on his face during the entire tour.
Connie appreciated his enthusiasm and vision as he talked about restoring the location to its former glory as well as making the building an efficient and comfortable workspace for his staff. Mary was pleased that, unlike their earlier house search, Jonathan might actually be thinking about buying the place despite the work that it needed.
As they returned to the bottom floor, Jonathan said, “How much are they asking?”
The real estate agent rattled off a number. “Two point two million. It’s more about the land than anything else. And I have to warn you, the town council is thinking about rezoning this area to residential.”
Connie shook her head, befuddled by the statement, and gestured to the location. “We’re in the middle of a warehouse district and right next to the train tracks. Who would want to put up residential here?”
Mary shrugged. “A few towns over, they built condo units directly next to the tracks. The tax base from those units is a reliable source of income for the town.”
“And if I buy this place, I will not only be paying taxes on it, but it’ll also bring prestige, jobs, and opportunities to the town,” Jonathan countered. “Offer one point five for this place as is. They must know the building inspection will reveal that major work is needed to deal with the water damage and that elevator.”
With another shrug, Mary said, “It’s a little low, but it’s been on the market for some time. I’ll draw up the papers.”
After they walked out and the real estate agent returned to her car, Connie stood by Jonathan as he placed his hands on his hips and considered the building once more. He glanced at her sideways and said, “What do you think?”
“A little late to ask, isn’t it?” she said, but at his smirk, she continued. “It has good bones, but it’ll take work. The rezoning thing bothers me. That could get tricky.”
He nodded. “I agree, but you practice in Jersey, right?”
“I do. I’ve worked with the town council on some things,” she said as they meandered to Jonathan’s Jeep and hopped in.
“Then you can help me with the purchase and zoning if you don’t mind taking me on as a client,” he said. He watched the traffic and executed a U-turn to drive them back toward the inn. He handled the 4x4 competently, his hands graceful but strong on the wheel. Inside her, heat rose at the recollection of those hands guiding her as they made love. Of the gentle way he’d held her last night while banking the passion between them.
“They say it’s not good to mix business and pleasure,” she said, risking a glance at him from the corner of her eye.
His head whipped toward her for only a second before he returned his attention to the road, a wry grin on his face. “I wouldn’t want to make you choose between the two.”
“But friends help friends. We are friends, right?” she said, wanting to give a name to what was happening between them.
“We are that and more,” he said and grinned that irresistible grin.
Chapter 16
Jonathan had been looking forward to the “and more” part of their relationship ever since their return to the inn after the house hunting. But as much as he wanted her, he was determined to prove to Connie that their relationship could be one based on fun, friendship, and respect, not just passion. Not that passion wasn’t important, but when that lusty fire burned out, there had to be other embers that kept the relationship alive. Not that he expected the five-alarm fire they ignited to extinguish anytime soon.
As they strolled hand in hand into their suite, he applied gentle pressure and urged her into his arms. “Thank you for helping me with the house search.”
She laid her hands on his chest and stroked his pectorals. “You didn’t like any of the places we saw, but there were a few nice houses.”
He shrugged, and she shifted her hands up to run them across the broad line of his shoulders. “You know how sometimes you walk into a place and you know you were meant to be there?” he said.
At her nod, he continued, “None of them felt like home. We’ll just have to keep looking.”
“You will find one that feels like home,” she echoed, but there was a note of doubt in her voice.
He bent and peered at her directly, trying to discern the reason, and it became clear to him. “You don’t think I will.”
“I think your heart is tied to your family’s beach house. I think you have to let go of that place to find your own home,” she said and cradled his jaw, as if to soothe any sting from her words.
He couldn’t take exception with what she’d said. Turning his face, he kissed her palm, then smoothed back a lock of her hair from her face as he said, “You’re not wrong. So much of my life is there, both good and bad. My mother and father. Owen. You.”
“I hope I’m one of the good things,” she teased.
“You are, so maybe I just need to make new memories with you in another place.”
“Like here? Tonight?” she said sexily from beneath half-lowered lids.
“I’ve been telling myself not to rush you, but you make it so hard,” he said with a shak
e of his head and a chuckle.
Connie reached between their bodies and ran her hand along the bulge in his jeans. “I can make it even harder if you’d like.”
His body shook, and beneath her caress, his erection blasted to life. “I’d like. A lot.”
She laid her hands on his chest again and urged him back toward the couch. As the backs of his knees hit the edge, he sat. She was immediately on him, undoing the button on his jeans and dragging the zipper down over his growing erection. He sprang free, covered only by the thin cotton of his briefs. She pulled those away as well and fisted her hand around him, watching his face as she stroked him.
“Tell me how you want it, Jon. Soft?” she asked and barely floated her hand over him. “Or hard?” she teased, increasing the pressure of her hand around him.
He covered her hand with his and showed her just what he wanted, groaning with pleasure at her touch and her playful lick.
“I want to see you,” he said and reached for the buttons on the simple, white camp shirt she wore. He fumbled as he undid them and parted the fabric to reveal the lacy demi bra beneath.
“You’re so beautiful,” he said and danced his fingertips along the swell of her breasts.
“I want to see you too,” she said.
She grabbed hold of his waistband and helped him wiggle free of his jeans and deck shoes. A second later, he ripped off his T-shirt, baring himself to her. After he did so, she ran her hands up his thick, muscular thighs and back to his erection, which she encircled and stroked once again. She bent and took him into her mouth, dancing her tongue all along him as she made love to him with her mouth.
He closed his eyes against the sight of her loving him, afraid he’d lose it too fast, wanting to hang on to the pleasure she was giving him with her sure caresses and kisses. He shifted his hips upward and fisted his hands at his sides, denying himself what he wanted most: to touch her. Taste her.
He was on the edge, barely holding on, when she kissed her way up his body while stroking him. As she whispered a kiss along his lips, she leaned close and said, “Open your eyes, Jon. I want to see you go over.”
Fuck, I’ll lose it, he thought, but he did as she asked, meeting her gaze, which was molten gold with desire, sneaking only a quick glance down to see her hand on him.
“Connie,” he said and covered her hand with his, trying to fight his release.
“Come for me, Jon. I want you to come for me,” she said, and with another few strokes, his climax took him over.
“Sorry, Connie. Sorry,” he said, but she silenced him with a tender kiss and a gentler caress.
“Wait here,” she said with another kiss and rushed off to her room.
As if I could move, he thought. His legs were still trembling with the aftershocks of his release while his heart pounded a staccato rhythm in his chest. He had barely calmed when she hurried back in, an unbelted robe barely covering her nakedness, and tenderly took care of him. Impossibly, passion rose again from that simple touch.
She sat beside him on the couch, her legs tucked under her, the robe leaving a wide swath of her creamy skin visible. Her gold-green eyes were dark with her desire and full of invitation.
Invitation that not even a saint could resist, and he was no saint.
* * *
Connie had known that taking things slow was something that would be virtually impossible for them. Especially when Jonathan had gone out of his way to show restraint and caring. It was like catnip to a cat. Speed to a race-car driver. Irresistible.
She stroked the back of her hand across the soft hairs on his chest and rested it over his racing heart. She met his gaze, the crystal blue now a sapphire as deep as the ocean at night. A muscle ticked along the side of his jaw from his restraint, so she took hold of his hand and brought it up to cradle her breast.
“I want you, Jon. I want what we have together,” she said, the tones of her voice low and husky with need.
He held the weight of her breast in his hand and leisurely swept his thumb across the hardening tip. The caress dragged a soft sigh from her, and Jonathan repeated the gesture, a little harder, a little more urgently.
She leaned back against the arm of the couch, letting the robe fall open, drawing her legs out from beneath her, and running one hand along Jonathan’s arm to invite him to join her.
He rotated the tip of her breast between his thumb and forefinger, sending a tug of need to her center. Surging forward, he took the nipple into his mouth, licking and sucking it while trailing his hand down her body. He parted her, unerringly finding the sensitive nub beneath her curls, caressing it with the press and stroke of his fingers until her body was vibrating with need.
“Jon,” she pleaded, wanting to finish what she’d started.
He surprised her by shooting to his feet and lifting her into his arms. As the world whirled from the action, she grabbed onto his shoulders, laughing in delight. He smiled and kissed her, drinking in that joy. He walked with her to his room, where he gently laid her on the bed and spared only a heartbeat to take protection from the nightstand and ease it on.
She spread her legs, welcoming him to join with her, and he accepted that summons, driving into her. He swallowed her cries of pleasure with his kisses as, with each stroke of his hips, he took her ever higher. His powerful body was hard against hers and yet gentle, his mouth mobile as it drifted down to her breasts and he kissed them. Sucked them into his mouth in the way that he knew she liked.
She closed her eyes against the pleasure. It was almost too much. She could lose herself in him. In the passion he brought her. In the lightness of his humor and the tenderness of his caring.
“God, oh God,” she said as that awareness washed over her and she gave herself over to it and to him. Her body shook with her release. Her heart trembled with joy and fear of the truth she could no longer deny.
She loved him. Against all reason and common sense, she still loved Jonathan Pierce, and she didn’t know what to do about it.
Chapter 17
Jonathan didn’t know if she slept after they made love. He didn’t. His mind raced with the enormity of all that had happened in the last few weeks. How much his life had changed in that short time.
He’d decided to find a home for a variety of reasons. A brother who might need him. A dog who did need him. A friend was watching Dudley until Sunday afternoon. A woman who didn’t need anyone, much less a man like him. A man who, up until a few weeks ago, was always on the go in one way or another. Running off to test a new invention. Spending weeks on the road while chasing after a new partner or acquisition for his company.
A man running away from his past and the emotions he kept buried. The loss of his mother and maybe even Maggie’s mom. His father’s constant disapproval and being disowned when he’d failed to return to college. Connie’s disapproval so many years earlier.
But she’s here in my arms now, he thought and tightened his hold on her, drawing her attention.
She rubbed her hand across his chest and murmured, “Relax. I’ve heard the gears in your head turning for what seems like hours.”
He glanced at her as she looked up at him. “Which means you’ve been awake as long as I have. Want to share what kept you up?”
“Probably the same thing that’s keeping you from sleep, but I’m not sure now is the time to talk about it,” she admitted and swept a kiss along the underside of his jaw. It was a kiss meant to soothe and not to rouse passion.
With a masculine grunt, he shrugged and eventually said, “Probably not.”
Seemingly to lighten the mood, she said with a little laugh, “It wouldn’t be organic to push it.”
A chuckle erupted from him, and he rolled to trap her against the mattress. Nuzzling his nose against her cheek, he said, “Sometimes we can be too smart for own good. Too thoughtful.”
She narr
owed her eyes, puzzled. “Because any two normal, red-blooded people wouldn’t be lying in bed together deliciously naked and not making love?” she said.
“For sure,” he replied and proceeded to show her a much nicer way to spend the rest of the night.
* * *
The morning sun streamed in from a side window, forcing Connie awake. Her body felt boneless, her muscles like jelly after a delicious night of making love. She reached out for Jonathan but jolted upright as she realized she was alone in bed. The snick of the lock in the room outside had her slipping out of bed and pulling on her robe. She belted it tight as she walked out to the main room of the suite.
Jonathan was there, freshly showered and dressed. He placed coffee cups and two takeout dishes on the table in front of the sofa. He grinned as he saw her and said, “You were sleeping so peacefully, I didn’t have the heart to wake you.”
She walked over and kissed him, her hand resting at his waist. She pinched him and said, “And because you know I’m not a morning person.”
“Totally not a morning person,” he echoed. “But I hope coffee and pork roll sandwiches will tame the morning beast.”
“They will,” she murmured against his lips and then sat to enjoy the breakfast he had brought up for her.
He joined her on the couch and swiftly unwrapped the sandwiches. As they ate, he said, “I’m sorry we have to leave early today, but my neighbor can only watch Dudley until the early afternoon.”
“Not to mention you miss the little guy,” she said around a mouthful of pork roll, egg, cheese, and crusty roll.
“Yeah, I do. I’m going to have find a place that will let us bring Dudley when we come back down to look at more houses.”
She tried not to read too much into his thinking she’d be a regular part of his house hunting. “The Lighthouse Inn is nearby, and I think it’s animal friendly.”
“I’ll check into that for next week. Are you free?” He held his breath and gave his breakfast sandwich undue attention while he waited for her answer.
What Happens in Summer Page 14
