Before he could put his key in the lock the door opened in front of him, as if by magic. Annabelle stood there looking so beautiful it made his heart ache. She had a warm, welcoming smile on her face. For the first time since he’d moved into his house, it really felt like he was coming home.
He kept moving forward until Annabelle was forced to back up into the house. The smile fell from her face and she bit her bottom lip. Mike dropped his parcels on the hall table and shoved the door shut. It closed with a solid bang and he turned the lock. He didn’t want the outside world to intrude upon them.
“Is everything all right?” Annabelle’s voice held concern and her beautiful blue eyes were filled with worry.
Mike moved forward, wrapped her in his arms and simply held her. Her body melted against his. The tension of the week slipped away now that they were alone together and she was in his arms.
Spending their nights apart during the workweek had been hell. He often found himself rolling over in the middle of the night looking for her, missing her lying next to him. He would never admit it out loud, but he loved the way she cuddled into him when they slept. It made him feel as if he belonged.
“It is now,” Mike murmured in her ear. He relaxed even more when she slipped her arms around his waist and hugged him. Contentment filled him. This is what Annabelle did to him, what she gave him.
“I made supper.” Annabelle slowly tugged away from his embrace, and reluctantly he let her go. “I hope you’ll like it.”
Mike placed a single finger on her lips. “I’m not picky, I like just about anything.” Leaning down, he kissed her, just a brief taste. “Besides, I’ll never say no to a meal cooked by you.”
Keeping one hand on her waist, he snagged the parcels with the other and herded her toward the kitchen. She walked easily beside him, fitting perfectly next to him. He deposited the bags on the kitchen counter and began emptying the contents for her inspection.
“I didn’t know what you were making for supper, but I figured this bottle of white wine would go with just about anything.” Mike handed her the bottle and reached back into the bag.
“It’ll go great with the chicken and potatoes I’ve got baking in the oven.” Annabelle rummaged around in the kitchen drawers until she found a corkscrew. She pulled down a couple of wineglasses from the cabinet and carried all of it to the table. “You can open the wine when you’re ready.”
“This is for you. For dessert.” Mike produced the container with a flourish.
“Chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream. Mmm.” The look Annabelle gave him was almost sensual. “It’s my favorite.”
“I know.” He’d also had to make two stops on the way home to find the kind she liked. It was worth the effort when she gifted him with a soft smile and kissed him on the cheek.
“Thank you.” Her voice was a whisper against his skin. He wanted to drag her into his arms and up to bed, but he held himself back. That would come later.
“Have I got time for a shower?” He really needed a cold shower to get a grip on himself. And besides that, he definitely smelled as if he’d been working on a construction site in the sun all day long. He smelled ripe.
She gave him another of her seductive smiles. “You’ve got plenty of time.”
Taking her at her word, he went upstairs, pulling off his dirty clothes as he went. A sense of satisfaction washed over him when he noticed a flowered tote bag sitting on the chair in his bedroom. Annabelle was his for the weekend. It didn’t escape him that his tension headache was almost totally gone now that he was home and Annabelle was with him.
He hurried into the bathroom and took the quickest, coldest shower he could stand. He soaped, scrubbed and rinsed in record time. He turned off the water and sluiced the water out of his face before snagging a towel off the shelf.
As he wrapped it around his waist, he inspected his face in the mirror. He was definitely sporting a shadow. He could use a shave but decided against it. He could always do it later. Annabelle was waiting supper on him.
He padded back into the bedroom and pulled on a pair of clean jeans and a T-shirt. It was the weekend and he wanted to be comfortable. His hair was still damp but it would dry soon enough. He detoured long enough to dump his dirty clothes into the hamper and hang the damp towel over the rod. Having Annabelle around made him more conscious about picking up after himself. Not that he was a slob, but he was a guy.
Less than fifteen minutes after he’d left her, Mike was back in the kitchen, clean and with his libido under control. She’d been busy while he’d been gone. The table was set just like a restaurant with all the correct dishes and utensils. There were even cloth napkins on the table, and he knew for sure he didn’t own any. That meant she’d brought them with him.
The vase holding the wildflowers on the table didn’t belong to him either. He eyed both of them, liking the fact that Annabelle felt comfortable enough to bring some of her things into his home. It gave him hope that she was beginning to think of them as more than just an affair.
Annabelle had opened the wine and helped herself to a glass. She watched him as he took in the table and snagged his own glass of wine. Raising his glass, he proposed a toast. “To a beautiful table, a tasty dinner, and an even more delicious lady.”
She reached her glass out to tap his even as she blushed at his words. “You don’t mind that I brought a few things over?” She busied herself straightening one of the napkins.
“Nope, looks great.” He took a deep drink of his wine to fortify himself. Mike wanted nothing more than to scoop her up and take her to bed, but she’d obviously spent a lot of time preparing this. There was no way he’d disappoint her.
“It smells great too.” It sounded cliché but he really meant it. Taking a deep breath, he inhaled and just enjoyed the scents permeating the air. The aroma of fresh chicken and yeasty bread filled the kitchen. His stomach growled in anticipation.
“Sit down and eat before it gets cold.” Annabelle’s face was suffused with pleasure as she ushered him into his seat at the table. The plates had been filled with golden brown chicken, steaming baked potatoes with rosemary and melted butter, and glazed baby carrots. A basket of warm rolls sat in the center of the table with a fancy little dish filled with butter sitting next to it.
“This is amazing.” Mike snagged a roll, slathered butter on it and took a bite. “I missed lunch, so I’m starving.” He tried the chicken and groaned. “Delicious.”
“I’m glad you like it.” Her face was red, but Annabelle seemed pleased by his compliment. “It’s only chicken.”
He reached over and took her hand in his. “It’s more than just food. You took the time to make this for me.” He rubbed his thumb over her knuckles. “Thank you.” He paused for effect. “Now dig in.”
• • •
Annabelle laughed, pleased by his reaction to the meal she’d prepared. It had felt strange coming into his home when he wasn’t there. Stranger still to leave a bag with clothing in his bedroom and unpack groceries she’d purchased in his kitchen.
She’d enjoyed cooking for Mike. It was her way of thanking him for all the kind gestures he made his past week. As on edge as they’d made her, she was also touched by how well he seemed to know her.
He’d seemed upset earlier, almost angry. Whatever had been bothering him, he seemed more himself now. Not that she was an expert or anything. They’d only been seeing each other for a week.
But she’d known him for months. He was an easygoing guy and everyone around town liked him. If there’d been any negative gossip she’d have heard it by now. Some of the library patrons liked to talk a little too much. Annabelle disliked gossip, but she knew that many older people just wanted someone to talk to. She didn’t mind and considered it part of her job. The library was a gathering place for young and old alike.
“How was work this week?” She knew very little about the daily running of his construction business.
Mike scooped up a fork
ful of potatoes. “Good. I’ve got crews working on two custom homes and we’re putting a new kitchen in another. That’s been delayed. The granite slab for the kitchen counter cracked during delivery.”
“Oh, no.” She could only imagine how disappointed the homeowners must be. “Your clients must not be very happy about that.”
“Yeah. The stone guys have to replace it, but I take the heat.”
“Do people really get angry with you over something that’s not your fault?”
Mike chewed and swallowed. “Sure. I’m the face of the operation. That’s why I get the big bucks,” he teased. “Had a couple of guys out with a stomach virus this week, and my tile guy had another job run long and can’t start on mine until next Tuesday.”
“You handle a lot of details on a daily basis, don’t you?” She’d never really thought about the logistics of it all. Like most people, she’d seen the renovation shows on television, but they always skipped past the days and weeks of hard work, showing a minor problem or two and the finished result.
“Sure, but I don’t mind too much. I prefer the actual physical work. There’s something satisfying about seeing a finished job. How about you?” he asked. “Anything exciting in the world of books this week?”
Annabelle laughed. “You’d be surprised. Several of the kids who come to the children’s reading hour must have had the same stomach virus your crew did.”
Mike slowly lowered his fork. “Oh, no.”
She nodded. “Oh, yes. It was quite a mess, but I’m happy to report the children are feeling much better now.”
Conversation flowed and Annabelle shared stories of all the interesting things that had happened at the library. She told him about her shrinking book budget, the struggle of having to depend on a small part-time staff and a few volunteers to keep the place open, and the constant battle to provide all the services the community demanded.
“I never considered how much you have to contend with.” Mike scooped some more potatoes and chicken onto his plate. “I figured it was mostly putting books on the shelf and checking people out at the desk.”
Annabelle didn’t take offense. Most people had no idea exactly what a librarian’s job entailed, especially working in a small-town library.
After dinner, they cleared away the dishes, working in tandem as though they’d been doing it for years. Annabelle enjoyed herself. It almost felt as though they were a real couple.
For the first time, she wondered if she was selling herself short by not wholeheartedly embracing their relationship.
She started the dishwasher and wiped her hands on a towel. Better to be safe than sorry. She’d play it cautious for now and see how things between them played out. They were still in what all the women’s magazines referred to as the “honeymoon” stage of their relationship, both of them on their best behavior. What would happen if they had a big fight or if Mike got bored with her after a month or two?
She ignored the twinge in her heart. “Do you want coffee?”
“I’ll get it,” he told her. “You get the ice cream.”
She spooned one scoop into a bowl for herself and two into one for Mike. They carried it into the living room and curled up on the sofa. Mike turned on the television and found a sitcom they both enjoyed. They laughed and ate ice cream. It was a relaxed and ordinary evening.
It all changed with one simple statement.
She was leaning against Mike and he had his arm around her, playing with a wisp of hair that had come free from her bun. “I want to take you to the end-of-summer fair next week.”
All of her earlier concerns came roaring back. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.” Being seen as a couple in public was a huge step forward. This wasn’t some large, impersonal city. This was Summersville. Everyone knew who he was and most of them would recognize her. She got sick to her stomach just thinking about being under the scrutiny of so many people.
“Why the hell not?” Each word was spoken slowly and carefully enunciated.
She wasn’t quite sure how to respond in a way that he’d understand. He was a handsome, successful man who could get a date any night of the week. She was the quiet librarian who’d lived here for months and never had a date until Mike had asked her out. It wouldn’t hurt him in the least if they were seen as a couple and then broke up a few months down the road.
She moved several feet away from him. A muscle in his jaw flexed and his gaze narrowed. “Why the hell not?” he repeated. Each word grew louder and he was shouting by the end.
Annabelle jumped up from the sofa and began to pace. “Because, people will see us together and have expectations . . .” She trailed off, searching for the right words.
Mike slowly rose to his feet and crossed his arms over his chest. “What’s wrong with expectations?” he demanded to know. He caught her by the arm when she paced by him and turned her to face him. “I’ve got expectations of my own.” There was something in his voice she couldn’t quite place. He was upset and angry.
Annabelle was totally flustered and near tears. “You know it probably won’t last,” she blurted out. The worst of her fears had gushed up from deep inside her and spilled over.
“What won’t last?” He dragged his fingers through his hair and huffed out a breath. “Us? Not when you have that attitude.” Mike cupped her cheeks with his hands and used the pad of his thumb to brush away the one tear that rolled down her cheek. “Damn it, Annabelle, don’t cry.”
“I’m sorry.” She hated crying, especially during a fight. It seemed so manipulative.
Mike groaned and kissed her. He tilted her head so he could delve deeper. He slid his tongue past her lips and coaxed hers to play. She sighed and wrapped her fingers around his wrists.
He eased away and stared down at her. “When have I ever given you the idea that this was temporary?”
“Never,” Annabelle whispered. He’d always made her feel special. It was her insecurities causing the problem. She didn’t know what she was going to do.
• • •
“Never,” Mike echoed. He bent down until his forehead rested against hers. “It’s you that’s made this a secret affair. Not me. I’ve always been honest with you about what I want. It’s you who’s been dishonest with me and with yourself.”
He gave her no time to reply before covering her lips once again. If there was one place she was honest in their relationship it was when they were physical. And he wasn’t above taking advantage of that.
He kissed her using every bit of skill and experience at his disposal. Like every other time he touched Annabelle, she responded eagerly and openly. He angled her head for better penetration and she eagerly invited him inside. He tasted coffee and ice cream and the sweetness of Annabelle herself. He loved the small sounds of enjoyment she made when they kissed. Annabelle was a very passionate woman.
He retreated, hoping she’d follow. She did. When her tongue swept into his mouth, he captured it and nibbled. She rewarded him with another moan of pleasure. Mike was fully aroused, his erection straining at the zipper of his jeans. Annabelle made him hotter than a hormonal fifteen-year-old boy. And he would know. He’d been one once.
He swept his hands down her back and molded her body to his. As he kissed her, he rocked her back and forth in his arms, loving the feel of her breasts against him. He knew her nipples would be hard. His mouth watered to taste them.
Annabelle pressed against the bulge in his jeans. The more she yielded, the more he wanted.
He grasped her hips in his hands and lifted her onto her toes, rubbing his hard-on against her mound. Mike knew he was in danger of losing all control if he didn’t stop, and he didn’t want this to end any time soon. He would love her so long and hard she wouldn’t even think of leaving him.
This was no longer just a kiss but a declaration of his intent.
He ran kisses over her jaw and down her neck. “I’ll take as much as you give me until you give me everything I want.”
&n
bsp; • • •
Before she could respond to Mike’s cryptic statement, he lifted her into his arms and strode out of the living room. She knew she’d hurt him, angered him with her unwillingness to take their relationship public. But one thing hadn’t changed. She felt safe and treasured within the confines of Mike’s embrace as he carried her upstairs to the bedroom.
She was confused. Had she been lying to herself, as Mike claimed? Maybe, but she was also realistic. What did he want from her? And how could he know so soon in their relationship?
She started to question him but he pressed his lips against hers, stopping her before she could speak.
“Shhh. Don’t talk. Just feel.” He released his hold on her legs and they slid down until she was standing in front of him. “Take what I give you and know that it’s real.”
Annabelle was curious to see what he planned to do next. She might be uncertain about the nature of their relationship, but she trusted Mike implicitly when it came to the sexual side of things.
His gaze never left hers as he reached for the first button at the top of her dress. His nimble fingers slid the button through the hole and glided down to the next one. He continued working his way downward until her dress gaped open, revealing a glimpse of a pale blue satin bra.
It was the first time she’d ever owned lingerie that wasn’t serviceable white cotton. She’d gone shopping on a whim earlier this week and was glad she’d given in to the impulse. Mike had given her the confidence to test her womanly wiles. If his heated stare was any indication, she had more than succeeded.
“Pretty.” He pushed open the dress, which now hung loose around her, and he traced the satin cup of the bra before sliding his fingers up over the strap. “Is it new?”
“Yes.”
“I like it even more than I did a second ago.” He eased his hands inside the neck of the dress and eased it away from her shoulders. The material slid down her arms and over her hips to pool around her feet. She was left standing in front of him wearing only her panties and bra.
Uncovering Annabelle Page 11
