Some Kind of Wonderful

by Barbara Freethy

  "Should I write this down?" David asked. "I didn't know there were actual rules to parenting."

  "Absolutely," Matt replied.

  "What's rule number two?" Caitlyn inquired.

  "Never answer a woman when she asks you what rule number two is."

  David laughed. "That goes along with never answer a woman when she asks you if she looks fat."

  "Ha-ha," Jackie said, slipping her arm around her husband's waist. "You just have to know the right answer, sweetie."

  "You look incredibly thin, beautiful, and drive me wild with desire," David replied.

  "Ah, I have taught you something." Jackie planted a smacking kiss on his cheek.

  They were so perfect together, Caitlyn thought wistfully, and in a few weeks they would have a baby to make their family complete. The thought jabbed at her like a knife. When would it end? When would she stop looking at happy families and wonder, Why me? When the real question was, Why not me? What made her so special? Nothing. She was just like everyone else. She'd had an accident. It was no one's fault, except maybe her own. And she had to find a way to live with it.

  "Let's go home," Matt said quietly, putting his arm around her and Emily.

  They were a family, Caitlyn thought suddenly. The three of them were a family. Her body tightened with an impossible wish -- a wish that it would last. But where would that leave Sarah? And where would that leave Matt? They were the true family, Matt, Sarah, Emily. Caitlyn was the interloper, the one who didn't belong, but she wanted the wish anyway.

  "Let's go home," she agreed. Maybe she wouldn't have tomorrow, but she still had tonight. And if her accident had taught her anything, it was that every moment counted.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Emily was still asleep when Caitlyn and Matt stopped in front of their respective doors. The silence that had grown between them on the car ride home lengthened and deepened. It was no longer comfortable but tense, edgy, filled with unspoken questions, unanswered desires.

  "Think Emily is out for the night?" Matt asked as he unlocked his door.

  "Probably. She was up all evening."

  "That doesn't mean anything."

  "I'll keep my fingers crossed for you."

  "Does that mean you won't be staying?"

  She met his eyes and nervously licked her lips, drawing his attention to her mouth, which was a big mistake. Because then she thought about kissing him. And she was trying not to think about that.

  "Well, since you have Emily..." Her voice drifted away, knowing it was just an excuse. Emily was a tiny baby and was also fast asleep. As far as chaperones went, she wasn't much of one.

  Matt pushed open his door. "Running away again, Caitlyn?"

  "Hardly. I'm not even moving," she said defensively.

  "But in a few minutes you'll be on the other side of that door with the chain pulled safely across."

  "Where do you want me to be?"

  "You know where I want you to be, naked, under me, on top of me, all around me."

  She blew out a sharp breath, her nerve endings fired up by his blunt response. "God, Matt, how can you just say things like that?"

  "It's the truth." His gaze bored into hers. "But you're afraid of the truth, aren't you?"

  "No," she said, although he was partly right. She wasn't just afraid of the truth, she was afraid of the way she was feeling about him, like she was in quicksand, going under without any hope of being saved.

  "It's your move, Caitlyn. You know where you can find me." He walked into his apartment and shut the door.

  "Good night," she muttered crossly. "I had a great time. Thanks for the invitation."

  She stood there for a long minute and stared at that closed door. It was not the way she'd expected things to end. At the very least, she'd thought maybe a kiss on the cheek, a "Thanks for the nice evening," a smile. But no. Matt had to make his point. Well, he could wait forever for her to act.

  She unlocked her door and stepped inside her apartment. She threw her purse down on the table and kicked off her heels. Going to bed would be a good decision, she told herself. Only problem was she didn't feel tired, more like wired, jittery, frustrated. Matt had been warming her up all evening only to give her the cold shoulder now. Why? Because he wanted her to come to him.

  Well, she could do that if she wanted to. But did she want to? Matt wouldn't be easy. He wouldn't play by the rules. He wouldn't let her hide in the shadows, where she was most comfortable. He probably wouldn't even stay on his side of the bed. Not that she was planning to go to bed with him. Good heavens! How crazy would that be?

  Crazy in love... there was that pesky word again. Not love, lust. Okay, maybe a little liking, but that was it. Then she remembered the way he'd asked her about her day earlier, listened to her design plans for Danielle's wedding dress, and he'd never looked bored. And she thought about how he'd pulled out her chair at the dinner table and changed the subject when she'd become uncomfortable, the little proprietary touches that made her feel protected... She didn't just like him a little. She liked him a lot.

  Too much. She had a feeling this one could hurt bad. She also had a feeling that this one could be spectacular.

  "Oh, Matt, why did you have to leave it up to me?" she whispered.

  Brian would have either kissed her or said good-night. He wouldn't have left this indecision between them. But then Brian wasn't here. He was at home reading some book, trying to figure out how to get her back. As if a book could explain her actions; she couldn't even explain her actions. Nor could she explain how a lone wolf bachelor with a lot of rough edges had completely stolen her common sense and replaced it with overwhelming desire.

  This wasn't her -- this woman who wanted to strip naked and make wild passionate love with the sexy man across the hall. She wasn't wild or passionate. Or was she? The woman before the accident had certainly not been those things. But those were the days of innocence, when she'd happily anticipated everything's ending up happily ever after. Now she knew she'd have to find her own happy -- even if it didn't last forever. She wondered what Brian's book would make of that.

  Of course, Matt didn't need a book. He knew exactly which buttons to push. He probably knew what she was thinking right now, no doubt writing her off as someone who couldn't make a decision, couldn't take a risk, a scared little girl who couldn't say she wanted a man to his face. Well, she'd show him.

  Throwing open the door, she found Matt leaning against the doorway to his apartment.

  "What took you so long?" he drawled.

  "You are too annoying to sleep with," she replied, both hating and loving the fact that he could read her mind.

  "I wasn't planning on sleeping," he said with a sexy smile.

  She opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out. There was such a predatory male look in his eyes, she was torn between running back into her apartment and closing the door and taking the last three steps to bridge the gap between them.

  "We sure are spending a lot of time in the hall," he said. He crooked his finger for her to come forward. "Come here."

  And she went, God help her. Straight into his arms, directly into his kiss. His arms came around her as he explored her mouth with a warm sweep of his tongue. He tasted like the chocolate they'd eaten earlier, deliciously spicy, dangerously addicting, and her arms crept around his neck, keeping him close as she wantonly plastered her body against his.

  "Uh, Caitlyn, we're still in the hall," he murmured against her mouth.

  "So?" She looked him straight in the eye. "I want you, Matt, right here, right now. What do you say?"

  The pulse in his throat leapt at her words, and she felt a feminine surge of power.

  "Uh..."

  "You want truth, Matt. Here it is." She took a deep breath and looked straight into his eyes. "I want to make love to you. But there's a part of me that's really afraid that at the end of it all I'll be in love with you. And you won't like it, and I probably won't like it either."

 
"I can't make any promises, Caitlyn," he said in a husky voice.

  "I'm not asking for any. I don't have a lot to offer a man -- not for the long-term future anyway."

  "You have more than enough to offer any man." He pulled her into his apartment and backed her up against the door, then kissed her until she couldn't think straight. His hands ran through her hair, trapping her in a passionate prison from which she didn't want to escape. She just wanted more, more of his mouth, more of his hands on her body, more of him.

  Caitlyn pushed up his shirt, spreading her hands across his abdomen, running her fingers up through the fine black hairs on his chest.

  Matt groaned. "Slow down, honey, we're not even in the bedroom."

  Despite his protest, Caitlyn felt the zip on her black dress hit the bottom of her spine and a second later the dress was pooled around her ankles, leaving her in the sexy underwear she'd chosen earlier. Thank God for a little forethought.

  Matt lifted his head and looked at her.

  She held on to his arms, trying to keep him close, but he wasn't going anywhere, he was just staring at her, his gaze drifting from her mouth to her breasts, to her belly button, and below...

  "Wow," he murmured.

  She smiled. "That's the best you can do? I might have to get you a dictionary."

  "You might have to get me oxygen," he said with a groan, filling his hands with her breasts, his thumbs drifting across her nipples, raising them into tender, pulsating points that demanded even more attention. His mouth pressed against her lips, then dropped to her cheek, his tongue sliding along her jaw, dancing past the edge of her ear, his breath sending shivers from her head to her toes. And then he was peeling back the straps of her bra, unhooking the front clasp, his lips, his tongue nuzzling the valley between her breasts, circling closer and closer, as he licked his way slowly to the heart of her, his mouth finally closing over her breast in a kiss of desire, possession...

  Caitlyn eagerly pressed her body against his, his denim jeans brushing roughly against her thighs, arousing her even further with proof of his hardness. She dropped her hands to his waistline, to the top snap of his jeans.

  "Yes," Matt murmured, leaving her breast to plant a quick kiss on her lips before grabbing her hand and whisking her across the room. She stumbled after him, not at all steady on her feet, but she didn't need her feet when he pushed her down on the king-size bed in the middle of his bedroom. Dazed, she simply lay there, watching him as he stood at the edge of the bed, his ragged breaths raising his chest up and down. He was all male, tall, strong, muscular. And her heart stopped as he reached for his jeans and slowly undid the snaps.

  One by one they popped open as if in slow motion, each click giving her a chance to run... or not. She raised herself up on her elbows, barely aware that her breasts were bare and she was wearing nothing more than a tiny black bikini. She was mesmerized by Matt, by the way he was watching her, by the sight he was revealing. She'd never seen a man strip before, and certainly not one with such slow deliberation.

  He slid the jeans down his hips, taking his briefs off along the way, leaving nothing to the imagination. Not that her imagination could have sculpted such a handsome specimen.

  "Now you," he said huskily, tipping his head toward her underwear.

  She hesitated, thinking it would be easier if he stripped her. But then she realized that was what this was all about, choices, truth. He wanted her to come to him without hiding anything. She lifted her hips and pulled off her panties. "Is this the way you want me?"

  "It's one of the ways," he said as he came down on the bed, covering her body with his. "But I'm open to suggestions."

  She loved the feel of his skin against hers, his hands in her hair, his hardness pressing between her thighs, and she wanted him so bad she didn't think she could wait one more second.

  "Why don't you come inside," she invited as his mouth drifted against her ear.

  "What about foreplay?" he asked, his fingers sliding up her thigh.

  "Haven't we been playing all night?" she asked on a sigh as his penis pressed against her hot spot.

  "I want you to be ready," he whispered.

  "I was ready three days ago."

  He looked into her eyes and said, "You're going to kill me."

  "I'm going to try."

  He reached over her and opened the drawer in the nightstand and pulled out a condom. His hand shook as he ripped open the package, and it was that tiny tremor that told her this was absolutely meant to be, for Matt was as nervous and as needy as she was.

  Caitlyn put her hand over his and smiled into his eyes. "Let me." She pressed him down on his back and slid the condom on, then straddled his legs. His hands moved from her waist to her hips as she took him into her body, delighting in the breaching of the final barrier between them.

  They moved together in delicious friction, her breasts against his chest, her mouth against his mouth. Each movement drew her muscles tighter and tighter and tighter, until she burst with pleasure, her cries mingling with his as they caught each other on the way down.

  Matt put his hand around her neck and pulled her face into the crook of his shoulder. "Don't move."

  "I wasn't planning on it."

  "Good. Because I'm not leaving until you kick me out."

  Caitlyn sighed with satisfied pleasure. Kicking him out was the last thing she wanted to do.

  * * *

  Matt awoke, bewildered at first by the fragrant womanly scent surrounding him. Then he realized Caitlyn was curled up next to him, her head resting on his chest, her arm flung across his waist, one of her legs tangled up with his.

  She was all woman and all his... the thought came to him unexpectedly, shocking him with the truth. He wanted her to be all his, and only his. How had that happened? He'd slept with women before and not awoken with this possessive need to keep her close throughout the rest of the night. In fact, he was usually the one who got up and dressed in the dark of the night and went home to his own bed. But this time Caitlyn was in his bed, and he didn't want to leave.

  She'd touched him in ways he'd never imagined, not just great physical sex, but mind sex, too. She'd made him laugh. She'd made him shake. She'd made him want more. Damn.

  What had she said -- that she might fall in love with him after sleeping with him. Well, he had a feeling she wasn't going to be in love alone. Jesus! What was he thinking? He wasn't in love. He was... Well, he didn't know what he was, but love... What was love anyway? It had always been a transient emotion in his life at best. He didn't know how to handle it, and he sure as hell didn't know how to keep it.

  "Are you awake?" Caitlyn asked in a soft voice as she lifted her head off his chest.

  He only wished the shadows weren't so deep. He wanted to see her, really see her. They would have to make love in the sunshine so he could watch every expression travel through her eyes. She hid nothing from him. This woman who'd been living with secrets had bared her body and her soul to him. And the gift humbled him in a way he'd never imagined.

  "I'm awake," he replied, even though it was unnecessary, because she was smiling into his eyes with a love that took his breath away. At least he thought it was love. Maybe it was just the aftermath of great sex. How could he be sure?

  Her hand slid down his thigh, and he caught his bottom lip with his teeth. "Don't start something you can't finish, honey."

  "Who says I can't finish it?"

  "Apparently, Emily does," he said with a groan as the baby began to cry. "It must be the witching hour." He glanced at the bedroom clock. "Two a.m. Right on schedule."

  Caitlyn laughed. "Do you want me to get her?"

  "Would you?"

  "But I'm naked."

  "So am I."

  "I'd rather see you walk across the room naked. It turns me on."

  "Caitlyn, there is a baby in the next room. Where is your sense of propriety?"

  "I left it in the hallway." She kissed him on the cheek and sat back so he could get
out of bed.

  He heard her whistle in appreciation at his obvious arousal. That was the problem with being a man, nowhere to hide. He ruthlessly pulled on his jeans, Emily's piercing cry helping to deflate his libido. And by the time he reached her crib, which he'd placed in the living room, he was back under control.

  Caitlyn joined him a second later, wearing one of his T-shirts. In companionable silence, she made a bottle while he changed Emily, and it struck him how good it all felt, how normal, how family like. He sat down on the couch and propped his legs up on the table as he placed a bottle in Emily's mouth. Caitlyn sat down next to him and rested her head on his shoulder.

  "This is nice," she said.

  "Aren't you tired?"

  "Not really. What about you?"

  "I'm okay." It was a massive understatement. He was better than okay, better than he'd been in his whole life. He had Caitlyn. He had Emily. He had it all. Until this moment he hadn't really known just how much he wanted it all.

  "Do you want me to go home?" Caitlyn asked a few moments later, her voice sounding a bit unsure.

  "Do you want to go home?"

  She hesitated. "I want to stay."

  "Then stay." Stay forever if you want.

  A while later, they went back to bed and the next time Matt awoke sunlight was pouring through his window, the smell of bacon was coming from his kitchen, and he could hear Caitlyn talking to someone. He stumbled out of bed, grabbed his bathrobe off the hook in the bathroom, and walked into the living room.

  Caitlyn sat on the couch, a sketch pad propped up on her knees. Emily was playing with the mobile over her car seat which was carefully placed on the coffee table next to Caitlyn. It was a scene out of a storybook, he thought, wondering how this particular scene had ever come to happen in his supposedly bachelor apartment.

  Caitlyn looked up and saw him standing there. A smile of delight, of intimacy, of awareness spread across her face. One look from her and his whole body tightened. He remembered every kiss, every touch, every incredible moment that had passed between them, and he wanted to do it all over again.