by T. J. Kline
A loud bark from the mudroom interrupted the quip she was about to make.
“Is that Lucky?” Justin moved toward the mudroom and looked inside where the puppies were nestled in a wiggling pile next to their mother. He turned back toward her. “I told you I’d do it when I got back. How did you get everyone moved?”
Alyssa crossed her arms over her chest. “I can manage to walk a dog inside.”
“But the puppies needed to be moved all—”
“Together?” She shook her head. “Which is why Julia and I both did it.” She felt a measure of satisfaction when the all-knowing frown slipped from his brow.
“Neither of you should have been carrying them in your condition,” he scolded.
“My condition? You mean because I’m pregnant? You don’t mind me cooking and cleaning your house, but I can’t move a plastic tote, with help, from the clinic to the house?” She arched her brow. “That’s a bit sexist, don’t you think?” Alyssa spun on her heel, appalled by his caveman attitude.
“Whoa, there,” he said, reaching out and grasping her wrist, pulling her back toward him. “In case you’ve forgotten, I told you not to clean my house. And I don’t expect you to cook for me.” Justin let go of her and shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans and the frown returned. “I’m not trying to be sexist, Lyssa. You’re eight months pregnant and I’m worried that you’re going to overdo it.”
“Ugh!” she groaned. “Are all cowboys this pigheaded or just you? This country-boy charm of yours isn’t working. Some women might find it endearing, but I’m finding it annoying. I’ve spent the last six years being told what I can and can’t do. I don’t need you doing the same thing. Just because I’m pregnant doesn’t mean—”
“You’re right, I’m sorry.”
“What?” His admission stopped her midtirade. She’d been prepared to storm out, expecting him to disagree with her argument.
Justin took a step toward her, his eyes soft with adoration. “I’m sorry,” he repeated, enunciating each word. “I know exactly how capable you are, Lyssa. You’ve amazed me since the moment you arrived.” He didn’t bother to hide the smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “You didn’t even hesitate to pitch in and deliver those puppies.” He reached for her hand and pulled her into his arms, brushing the hair back from her face. “I like seeing this side of you.”
His voice was gentle, soothing, and she had a hard time resisting the smile that wanted to match his. “The irrational, emotional side that lets hormones take over? Why?”
“Because you get this light in your eyes, like you’re alive, and you lose the fear that always seems to be just below the surface. You’re a passionate woman, Lyssa, but for some reason, you don’t want anyone to see it.” He tipped her face up toward his. “The fire in you is beautiful, something to be stoked and tended, not something to hide.”
She curled her fingers against the solid wall of his chest, knowing she needed to keep some distance between them but unable to resist the seduction of his words. When his lips met hers, it was a slow kiss that made her burn from within—gentle, tender, and so incredibly erotic. His touch was soft, barely there, and she craved more. She wanted all of him. It was a physical ache, making her body throb with need, but she longed for more than just the act of making love. She knew she couldn’t ask Justin for more than he’d already offered her, shouldn’t even want that, but she’d been unloved for so long. Her hands moved to cup his face, holding him to her as she opened to him. Her desire was needy, wanting, and unwilling to back down.
His lips teased, caressed, and tormented her. Against her better judgment, she wound her hands around his neck, and she couldn’t help but lose herself in the taste of him, the feel of the solid muscles of his shoulders under her fingers, the scent of him—like animals and soap and all male. Justin pulled her closer, his arms winding around her back, pressing her belly between them. She heard him groan deep in his chest just before slowly releasing her. He smiled against her lips and ran a hand over the side of her stomach.
“We should probably go eat,” he murmured against her lips. “If we don’t, I can’t promise where this will lead.”
A part of her didn’t care where it led, unless it was to the bedroom. But he was right. She hadn’t heard from Franklin yet that the papers were filed, and she didn’t even want to consider the repercussions to Justin’s and his sisters’ reputations if Elijah found out they’d slept together. And she knew he wouldn’t hesitate to use every contact he had to make them look bad. Disappointment slipped around her like a heavy fog. Even away from Elijah her fear of what he could do still controlled her.
JUSTIN HELD OUT a hand, waiting for Alyssa to take it. When was he going to learn to keep his mouth shut?
He was getting as bad as Bailey, speaking without thinking how it might sound. This was about Lyssa’s newfound independence and how, by telling her what she shouldn’t do, he’d inadvertently reminded her of the man who’d stolen it from her. Controlling Lyssa was the last thing he wanted, but he’d let his concern for her override his common sense. He wanted a partnership. To know he could make her smile as often as she did him. To be able to stoke the passion he saw hiding in her. Soon, he promised himself.
As soon as Franklin informed her she was free, he’d show her what it was like to be worshiped by a man who could appreciate fire in a woman.
Desire, hot and languid, still curled in his belly as he thought of her in his arms moments ago. He was going to need a cold shower just to put his raging libido back into its cage. A shower wasn’t a bad idea considering he’d just arrived home, but right now, he wanted Alyssa in there with him, and the images in his mind were creating the opposite effect, doing little to cool his lust. He cursed his body’s reaction to her. Damn if he hadn’t been about to take her to his room, forget her soon-to-be ex-husband, and spend the next few hours exploring the heaven that was her body.
He was headed for trouble. He could feel it the way he felt a coming thunderstorm, and he was just as helpless to stop it. He’d avoided relationships with women his entire life. Justin knew he’d broken more than his fair share of hearts, but he’d always been clear—no attachments, nothing permanent. But Lyssa made him long for a commitment, from the one woman who couldn’t give him one. He needed to keep this relationship in proper perspective. She was leaving once Franklin said it was safe, and he didn’t want her taking his heart with her.
Too late.
He wanted to deny it, to laugh it off the way he would if anyone suggested it to him, but he couldn’t and that worried him. He was falling for Alyssa Cole, and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do to stop it. His heart was like a car going downhill without brakes—out of control and headed for disaster. The worst part was that he didn’t want to stop.
“I wasn’t sure what you liked, especially since there wasn’t much in the pantry, so I did my best with what you had.”
Her sweet voice broke into his thoughts. “I guess I should head to the store. I don’t usually see the point in cooking for one, so most nights I fix one of the frozen dinners in the freezer and take it back to the clinic.”
“Sounds lonely.”
Justin shrugged. It was at times, he realized. “My clients love that they can catch me anytime if it’s an emergency,” he pointed out. “Plus, some nights I’ll have dinner with Jessie or Julia.”
He urged her toward the table, pulling out a chair. “You sit.” He leaned close to her ear, and the scent of her invaded his senses. He could smell his soap on her, and it wasn’t a far stretch to imagine lathering her with it, letting his hands explore and learn every inch of her. “I can’t have you thinking I’m a chauvinistic pig.” Lyssa looked over her shoulder at him as he pushed her chair in, but he could see the twinkle in her eye. “Even if I sounded like one.”
She laughed quietly as he moved to the stove, dishing her a plate of the pasta. “Why, Dr. Hart, your sisters would be shocked to hear you admitting that you can be
a jerk.”
He brought both plates back to the table and slid into the chair next to her, giving her a wink. “I hope my secret is safe with you. I can’t have them thinking they can bully me any more than they already do.” Lyssa tried to hide her smile as she quickly looked down.
He took a bite of his food and let the rich flavor of Italian spices burst in his mouth. Justin couldn’t help the groan of pleasure from slipping past his lips. “What is this? There is no way I had anything this good in my kitchen.”
Lyssa laughed, filling him with contentment. He loved the sound and wanted to hear it more often. This was the woman he’d seen from the beginning, the one Franklin described. He met her gaze and congratulated himself on being able to fully remove the fear that usually took up residence in her eyes, at least for the moment. She was completely relaxed.
“It’s not that great,” she said, blushing as she brushed aside his compliment. “If you’re this excited over some pasta and tomato sauce, wait until you have dessert.”
Did she have any clue what her words did to him? Just the thought of dessert with her had his mind conjuring up fantasies of things they could do with whipped cream and caramel syrup. Justin shifted in his chair, trying to adjust his jeans without her noticing.
“I had the ingredients for dessert?” The only thing he remembered having in his food stashes were some cookies and possibly some freezer-burned ice cream.
“I dug around and found what I needed for something I used to make in college. You’ll see.” Her eyes held a wicked gleam he could only hope wasn’t just about the food.
“With a buildup like that, we could skip dinner and get right to the good stuff.”
Her eyes flashed and he could see the yearning in them. He hadn’t meant to say it that way, but damn if it wasn’t exactly how he was feeling right now. He wanted to skip every bit of this meal and just take her to his room. The longer he stared at her, the more his need seemed to build and pulse within him, like a living animal wanting release.
“No way,” she argued but the smile never left her lips. “I worked too hard putting all of this together. You better enjoy every bite.”
He watched as she ate, delicately picking at the food on her plate, barely eating. “Aren’t you hungry?”
“I picked while I was fixing it.” She looked at her plate, avoiding his gaze. Justin knew she wasn’t telling him everything and wondered why she would feel the need to lie about eating.
“You’re sure that’s all?” Her eyes flicked toward his, and he saw the trepidation had returned. “Are you feeling okay? No more contractions?”
A tender smile spread over her lips and her eyes softened. “I am.”
“Tell me more about the baby. You said you’re eight months along. Do you know if you’re having a boy or girl? Have you picked out a name?”
Her smile widened even as she seemed surprised by his questions. “Do you really want to know?”
“Of course I do, Lyssa.” He finished off his meal and leaned back in his chair. “Tell me.”
She rose, reaching for his plate, but he stilled her with his hand over hers. Electricity seemed to shoot between them, igniting a smoldering fire. As she turned to look at him, her eyes glowed with yearning.
“Let me.” He stood and took the plates to the sink. “Why don’t you get our dessert and we’ll go in the living room?”
She watched as he cleaned up the table and put the leftover pasta into the refrigerator. Her nearness alone was enough to set his body burning, but touching her nearly sent him over the edge. He’d hoped talking would distract him from the desire that was making it hard for him to breathe. He couldn’t help but appreciate the beauty of her as she tugged her sweater around her belly, setting some sort of brownie on a napkin.
“Do you want me to meet you in there?” she asked, holding a brownie in each hand.
He knew she’d caught him staring at her, like a kid with his crush. She was probably used to men ogling her, and he didn’t want to be one of those guys. He didn’t want her to see him as just another fan, one of the men who chased her. And he didn’t want her to see him the way she saw her ex-husband. For her to see him differently, he had to treat her differently than she’d ever been.
She watched him curiously, waiting for him to answer, but he continued to stare at her, unable to speak. He just nodded and spun toward the dishwasher. What the hell was wrong with him? He usually had a dozen or so lines for every situation, but Lyssa had him tongue-tied and twisted in knots as he’d never been around a woman before. If he was smart, he’d drive her into town and deliver her on Franklin’s hotel doorstep, wash his hands of this entire matter, and go back to running his clinic. Justin looked toward the family room, where the most beautiful woman he’d ever known was waiting for him, and dried his hands on the dish towel, feeling grateful brains had never been his biggest asset.
“What in the world are these?” Justin stared at the brownies on the table as he sat next to her on the couch.
“Those are ‘Slutty Brownies.’ ”
HER MOUTH WATERED at the thought of them. With a chocolate chip cookie base, Oreo cookies in the center, and packaged brownie mix topping the entire thing, it was pure chocolate decadence. They had made hundreds of pans in her sorority, but Elijah watched every calorie that went into her mouth, warning how it might affect future roles, so she hadn’t had them since graduation years ago.
Justin leaned back into the corner, arching a brow and giving her that boyish smile. “Trying to tell me something, Lyssa?”
She felt the heat warming her cheeks. She wasn’t about to touch his comment, especially since it had crossed her mind that he was as sinfully delicious as the brownies. His laughter made her heart start racing and her insides flutter as he looked at her. She could read the desire in his eyes, knew she felt the same way, but she couldn’t allow herself to act on it. He’d already done so much to assist her, he shouldn’t be forced to face Elijah’s wrath any more than he already would for providing her help.
He took a bite and she could see the pleasure written across his face as he closed his eyes and chewed. “These are incredible.” He slid his arm around the back of the couch, maneuvering so that she could lean backward against his chest.
“I knew you’d like them.”
One of his hands came to rest against the side of her stomach, sweetly caressing the life she carried.
As if it was his.
Alyssa caught herself before she got too carried away with the thought. She was likely reading far too much into the simple gesture.
Maybe not, her heart sang.
“Tell me about the baby. I’m betting you want a girl.”
She slid a hand over his at the side of her stomach as she looked down, shaking her head. “No. I wanted a boy from the start.”
Justin tipped his head to the side, staring at her profile thoughtfully. “Why? I could see you holding a little girl, with your gorgeous green eyes, with your sweet smile.”
She smiled at the image he created for her. “Boys can have sweet smiles, too,” she pointed out. “And, believe it or not, I was a tomboy growing up in Carson City. Mud pies, hiking through the brush, and playing with lizards.” She glanced over her shoulder at him.
Justin couldn’t help the surprised rise of his brows. “You?” He grinned. “I guess that explains why you weren’t too squeamish about delivering puppies.”
“Oh no,” she argued with a laugh. “That was a completely new experience and not one I’d like to repeat too soon.”
Justin chuckled and the rumble vibrated against her back. The sound washed over her, relaxing her, making her feel safe, secure in his presence. It almost made her forget about the media that were guaranteed to descend on her as soon as Franklin filed the paperwork announcing her divorce. The only thing that had saved her at this point was the fact that no one knew where she was. According to Franklin, she was going to have to properly thank Dave for lying about seeing her. At
least he’d had the good instinct to distrust Elijah’s investigator.
His fingers played over her stomach, as if searching out the baby’s movement. “Have you picked out names yet?”
She wondered if he was really interested in their discussion. Elijah had rarely talked about the baby, other than to inform her that he didn’t care one way or another what she did, whether she chose a home or hospital birth or how she decorated the nursery. The only thing he’d been adamant on was their son’s name—Elijah Michael Cole Jr.
She repeated the name they had chosen and could feel him tense behind her, as if trying to avoid saying something he shouldn’t. “What?” She looked back at him, but Justin shook his head, refusing to answer. “I want to know,” she insisted.
“Why are you still doing this? Why are you still giving him this power over you?”
She started to move away from him but his fingers caressed her arm, near her shoulder, making her stay. She could feel the tingle of heat travel up her back, spiraling in her chest, warming her. “I’m not, I . . . ”
“Yes, you are.”
His voice was gentle, almost hypnotic, as he brushed her hair from her neck with the back of his fingers, dropping it over her shoulder and breast. When she looked at him, his blue eyes were electric and she could feel the tension in the way he held his body stiffly against her.
“He was an idiot not to recognize what a treasure he had, Lyssa.” One of his large hands slid over the side of her waist, tenderly caressing her child, while the other curled around her shoulders and chest, pressing her against him.
