Her disappointment that he clearly wasn’t thinking of her fantasy at all was replaced by curiosity. What did he want to discuss? Whatever it was, this worked out fine. She had her own list of things to tell him and she’d much rather do so in the privacy of her house as opposed to a crowded airport terminal. “I’m afraid my fridge is pretty bare.”
“No problem. Lunch is in my car. Two take-out orders of ‘the usual’ from the Stardust Diner.” He smiled. “For old times’ sake.”
“Wow. You sure know how to bribe a girl.”
His smile widened. “That’s what I’m hoping. So…do we have a date?”
“We have a date.”
He stepped closer and cupped her face in his hands. Her breathing stuttered. Brushing his thumbs over her cheeks, he said softly, “Any chance I can kiss my date hello?”
Did she nod? She wanted to, but wasn’t sure she could accomplish anything so complicated. She supposed she must have because he lowered his head and brushed his lips across hers. Softly, gently, in a way that made her entire body sigh with pleasure. And crave more.
Like a nooner.
He ended the kiss and Mallory had to press her tingling lips together to keep from asking him to kiss her again.
“Ready?” he asked.
He couldn’t tell? Jeez, she was practically panting.
“You need help carrying your flowers?”
She blinked and sanity returned with a thump. Good grief, one kiss and he’d unplugged her circuits. Where the heck was the backup brain generator when you needed one? How could she hope to tell him everything she wanted to when he rendered her all but incoherent with a single kiss?
“Uh, no. I can manage, thanks.” Grabbing her purse and her flowers, she walked briskly toward the door.
When they arrived at her house ten minutes later, Mallory immediately flicked on the AC unit to cool off the interior then headed into the kitchen where she reached for her favorite crystal vase.
“Table or snack bar?” he asked.
Their eyes met and for several seconds they stared at each other. A slide show of sensual images flicked through her mind and it was obvious from his heated expression that his thoughts were running along a similar vein.
“Snack bar,” she said lightly.
He flashed a quick grin. “Chicken.”
Yup. With a capital C. After adding water to the vase, she started arranging the fragrant blooms. “These are really lovely, Adam.”
“Glad you like them. As I said, they remind me of you.”
Her attention was distracted from her task when, from the corner of her eye, she saw him remove his jacket. Her hands faltered and her heart flipped over then thumped hard. Darting furtive glances at him, she watched him unpack the bag containing their lunch with one hand, while he loosened his tie and flicked open his top shirt button with the other.
This time her hands completely stilled and she swallowed. Oh, boy. He didn’t say a word, didn’t look at her, just continued unpacking the bag. If he rolled back his sleeves, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to keep her hands off him.
She went back to arranging her roses, keeping one eye on him. After he finished setting out the lunch items, he met her gaze and slowly rolled back his shirtsleeves, revealing strong forearms dusted with dark hair.
Double oh, boy.
Giving herself a mental shake that helped not at all, she added the single bloom he’d given her to the arrangement then set the vase in the center of the table.
Sliding onto the bar stool, her gaze skimmed over that loosened tie, his rolled-back sleeves, and she nearly groaned. It was obvious he’d known all along exactly what he was doing. How she was supposed to concentrate on food, on what she wanted to tell him, when he looked so delicious she didn’t know. He’d said he wanted to discuss something with her. Did he really? Or had he just said that to set up this little scenario for a round of goodbye sex? Either way, she wasn’t about to rush things and say, Let’s just get naked.
Maybe she’d suggest it after lunch.
Popping the top on her lunch container, she breathed in the mouthwatering combination of bacon cheeseburger and onion rings, glad to have something else to focus on besides him. Needing a hit of something cool, she first reached for her chocolate shake.
Silence swelled between them, a gap, which, due to the jitters bouncing through her, she felt compelled to fill. Deciding to play the game he’d set up, she asked, “What sort of business meeting do you have?”
“One concerning a career opportunity.”
“Oh? Where? Doing what?”
“Here. On Long Island. Doing exactly what you mentioned. Buying fixer-uppers, doing the fixing up, then reselling them. Actually, this-” he waved his hand between them “-is the business meeting I was hoping to have. To discuss more details with you. To see if you’d be interested in showing me some houses.”
Setting down her cup, she swiveled her stool to face him. “Are you serious?”
“Very. Are you interested in showing me houses?”
“I’d be happy to. When did you decide this?”
He pushed his untouched meal aside then turned his chair to face her. “Yesterday. Last night. All night. I did a lot of thinking.”
“About your career?”
“About what I want. And what I don’t want.”
She had to press her lips together to keep from asking which category she fell into.
“Want to know what I decided?” he asked.
“If you want to tell me,” she said with a studied nonchalance that deserved an Academy Award.
He reached out and took her hands, lightly entwining their fingers. Her heart fluttered at the contact, a sensation that intensified with the serious way he was looking at her. “I decided I want to be happy.”
She blinked. “No offense, but that’s sort of a no-brainer. Everyone wants to be happy.”
“I agree. But I had to figure out what was going to make me happy. You see, I thought I knew. I thought that trekking around Europe, playing the field, scouting out tiki-bar sites was what I wanted. What would make me happy. Turns out I was wrong. Working with my hands, building things, fixing things-that makes me happy. Relaxes me. Investing money and seeing a return-that makes me happy. And it’s also an area in which I have a lot of experience. The thought of buying a run-down house and fixing it up to resell makes me happy. In a stress-free way my doctor would certainly approve of. So I’m going to do it.”
She squeezed his hands. “I think that’s great, Adam. I have no doubt you’ll be a smashing success.”
“Thanks. But that’s not all.” He looked down at their joined hands, then raised his gaze back to hers. “You make me happy, Mallory. Being with you. Talking to you. Laughing with you. In bed, out of bed. Just looking at you makes me happy. It always has. From the first day I met you.”
Her heart performed another series of flutters. Good grief, if this kept up she was going to have to make an appointment with a cardiologist. She supposed she should say something, preferably along the lines of same here, but her throat had swelled with emotion and the words wouldn’t come.
“All that brings me to what I don’t want. To what won’t make me happy. I don’t want to put an ocean between us. I don’t want to go three months without seeing you. The bottom line is that I let life separate us once before and it was a huge mistake. I’m not willing to let you get away again. I want to stay here. With you. There’s something between us. Something really good and special and I want to see where it leads. Now. Not three months from now.”
Her heart was pounding so hard she could hear the blood rushing in her ears. After clearing her throat to locate her voice, she managed to say, “But what about your trip?”
“I’m not going.”
Good lord, she needed to sit down. Oh, wait. She was sitting down. Fine. She needed a stretcher. “You’re giving up your dream-”
“No, I’m not. I’m just reworking it. The minute I stopped ki
dding myself about my ability to walk-or in this case fly-away from you, everything fell into place.”
He rose and walked to the chair where he’d draped his suit jacket, then slipped an envelope from the inside pocket. After moving to stand in front of her, he held out the envelope.
“I stopped at the airport on my way here. I traded in my ticket for two open-ended vouchers. The thought of three months alone in Europe no longer holds any appeal. But visiting for a week or two-with you-does.”
“You want me to go to Europe with you?”
“Yes. Whenever we can work it into our schedules.”
“And you’re sure about this?”
“Positive. You know that Olympic torch? That’s nothing compared to what I’m carrying for you.”
Adam reached out and clasped her shoulders, grimly noting that his hands weren’t quite steady. His gaze searched her face, hoping for a clue to her thoughts, but the only thing he saw for certain was that she looked sort of…dazed. And stunned.
Hell, was that good or bad? Why didn’t women come with instruction manuals? Clearing his throat, he said, “You’re uncharacteristically quiet. Care to tell me what you’re thinking?”
She blinked several times then looked at him through those big, melting, brown eyes that never failed to deliver a visceral impact.
“I was thinking that this is rather…ironic.”
“Ironic? Is that…good? Because I gotta tell ya, fabulous or terrific were definitely more what I’d hoped for.”
Not a trace of amusement flickered in her very serious gaze, and a very unpleasant knot gripped his stomach.
“Like you,” she said softly, “I spent the entire night thinking. Soul-searching. Trying to pinpoint precisely what I wanted. And like you, I finally figured it out, and had planned to tell you tonight at the airport. Nine years ago, I made a mistake by not laying all my cards on the table and I don’t want to make the same mistake now.”
After drawing a breath, she continued, “Back then, you made me feel things I’d never dreamed possible. Things I haven’t felt to that degree with anyone since. Things I’d basically given up on ever experiencing again. It was to the point where I almost believed I’d imagined I ever felt such…magic. But last night irrevocably proved it was no figment of my imagination.”
She squeezed his hands, and he returned the gesture. “I find what you told me ironic because it so closely mirrors what I want to tell you. I want to see where that magic might lead, and I’m willing to do whatever’s necessary to give it a chance.”
“Meaning what?”
“I understand you wanting, needing to leave Manhattan, and if things show signs of working out between us, well, I wouldn’t allow a house to come between us.”
He went completely still. “Are you saying you’d sell your house? Move?”
“If it came to that, yes. I don’t want to let life separate us again without knowing for sure what we might have together. Because I want, very much, to see where this might lead. Because you make me happy. In bed, out of bed. Just looking at you makes me happy. It always has. From the first day I met you.”
Relief whooshed through him and he expelled a breath he hadn’t even realized he’d held. A joy-filled laugh escaped him and he pulled her into his arms, hugging her close. “You know, right from day one of our friendship it was almost eerie how we were so often on the same wavelength.”
“Obviously we still are,” she said, smiling into his eyes.
“Thank God.” Pulling her closer, he kissed her deeply, possessively, every cell in his body coming alive. When he’d satisfied his need to explore her luscious mouth, he left her lips to trail hungry kisses down her soft, fragrant throat.
She arched her neck, giving him better access, and moaned. Tunneling her fingers through his hair, she said in a smoky voice, “I’ll give you five hours to cut that out.”
“Five?”
“Okay, six hours. But not a minute more.”
“Great.” Bending his knees, he swooped her into his arms and headed swiftly down the hallway. “I vote we seal this occasion with that nooner fantasy of yours, brown-eyed girl.”
Her smile could have lit a room during a blackout. “And there’s that same-wavelength thing again.”
Epilogue
Three months later…
MALLORY USED HER KEY to open the door of the fixer-upper Adam had recently purchased. This house was his second venture into his new career, the first having gone extremely well, netting him a nice profit when it had resold last week-also netting her a nice commission in the process.
Dust motes floated on the ribbons of late-afternoon sunlight pouring in the windows, and the rhythmic pop of a nail gun drifted up from the basement. A smile tugged at her lips. She knew exactly how he’d look-dusty, disheveled, gorgeous and sexy. How he managed to look gorgeous and sexy while being dusty and disheveled was one of those unfair advantages men just had over women. Her heart sped up with the knowledge that in less than one minute she’d be in his arms.
When they’d decided three months ago to see where their attraction might go, she’d been hopeful things would go well. She’d had no idea that things would go so extraordinarily well. Their relationship had bloomed into one of mutual respect and admiration. The awareness and sexual fire that smoldered between them continued to burn as hot as ever. She’d never known she could be this happy. This content. Or that she would fall this deeply in love. Again. With the same man. Only loving him even more now than the first time around.
Opening the basement door, she slowly descended the stairs. The nail-gun noise stopped, and Adam must have heard her footfalls because he came to the bottom of the stairs. Her heart sighed with pleasure at the sight of him.
“Hi, gorgeous,” he said. He smiled up at her, but she noticed that the smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.
“Funny, I was just about to say the same thing.”
He raised his brows and looked down at his dust-streaked T-shirt and his old faded jeans that bore a multitude of smudges. “I’m a mess.”
She stopped on the last step so that they were on eye level and, without the slightest thought to her black suit, looped her arms around his neck and pressed herself against him. “A gorgeous, sexy mess who’d better kiss me right now. Or else.”
He leaned back, evading her kiss. “Or else what?”
“Or else I won’t tell him about the handyman’s special that was just listed on the market today.”
“Done.” He kissed her in that toe-curling, knee-weakening way of his that never failed to leave her breathless. But something felt…different. As if he were distracted. Her suspicion was confirmed when he leaned back and their gazes met. Normally when she greeted him, he looked at her with either warm amusement or blatant heat. Right now she saw neither. In fact, he suddenly looked very…unamused. Very serious.
“You okay?” she asked.
Something flashed in his eyes that she couldn’t decipher other than to know it didn’t reassure her. Neither did the fact that he released her and backed up a step.
“We need to talk,” he said.
Uh-oh. Normally those words wouldn’t have worried her, but there was something in his eyes, in his demeanor that edged real worry down her spine.
Reaching out, she rested her hand on his arm. “What’s wrong, Adam?”
He raked a hand through his dusty hair. “I’ve been thinking about…us. And the thing is, Mallory…I’m not happy anymore.”
Everything inside her seemed to stall. Her breath, her heart, her blood. An odd, numb sensation eased through her limbs and she had to lock her knees to keep them from shaking.
Not happy anymore? How was this possible? When had this happened? She wanted to ask him, but the words simply wouldn’t come. Instead she just stared at him, his words echoing through her mind. When she was finally able to speak, all that came out was a whispered, “Not happy?”
He shook his head. “No. And I need to do something a
bout it. That’s why I brought you that.” He jerked his head toward the far corner of the half-finished basement. Mallory turned and a puzzled frown pulled at her brows.
“A suitcase?” she murmured. His way of telling her to take a hike? Or maybe she’d misunderstood? A sliver of sunshine worked its way through the dark cloud his words had brought. Maybe the suitcase was filled with clothes-his way of telling her that he wanted to nail down a date for their trip to Europe? She latched on to that since the alternative rendered her incapable of breathing.
He walked to the corner, then wheeled the suitcase back, resting it next to her. “Open it,” he said, crouching next to the piece of luggage, tugging gently on her hand.
Lowering herself next to him, she reached out with shaking hands and slowly unzipped the bag. Then drawing a bracing breath and offering up a quick prayer to whichever saint protected women in love, she opened the lid.
And stared.
At an entire suitcase filled with-
“Hershey’s Kisses?” She stared in amazement at the little silver foil-wrapped drops. “There must be hundreds of them in here.”
“Ten thousand,” he said.
“Ten thousand?” She felt her eyes goggle and turned toward him to find him regarding her with that same serious expression. “You’re giving me ten thousand Hershey’s Chocolate Kisses?”
“Yes.” Clasping her hands, he stood, drawing her to her feet. “And asking for ten thousand kisses from you in return. If you give me one every day, it will take you 27.39726 years to pay me back. At that point, I figure I’ll fill up the suitcase with another ten thousand and we can start all over again.”
Speechless, she slowly shifted her gaze from him down to the Chocolate-Kiss-stuffed suitcase, then back up to him. Her throat tightened and tears pushed behind her eyes, and she wasn’t sure which she was going to do first-laugh or cry. Before she could figure it out, he gently took her face between his calloused palms.
Why Not Tonight? Page 19
