“He’s my dad and I’m never going to stop loving him.”
“I’ll always love him, too.”
“Then why are you kissing him and going on dates?” Peter protested, pulling away from her hug. She could read his scowl—betrayal. She was a betrayer as far as her son was concerned. She couldn’t let him think that because the idea broke her already-broken heart.
“Going on a date isn’t the same as what Daddy and I had. But I need friends, too, Peter, just like you do.”
“He was supposed to be my friend. Now it feels like he was only nice to me to get to you.”
“I don’t believe that. You and I met Mark on the same day, and since then we’ve both gotten to know him better. Wouldn’t you agree he’s a nice man?”
Reluctantly, Peter nodded, obviously hating where the conversation was going.
“If I like Mark, it doesn’t mean he can’t be your friend, too.”
Peter’s angry stare and extra-long sigh made her want to reinforce her original point, because she had a hunch her boy was worried about where he stood in their changing world.
“No one will ever replace your father, or you, in here.” She pointed to her chest. “We’re family. You’re my son. I love you more than you can understand.”
Things went quiet for a few seconds as Laurel hoped Peter was taking in her declarations. A light tap on the door drew her attention.
Mark opened the pocket doors with a sandwich on a plate in the other hand and a can of soda under his arm. “Okay if I join you guys?”
Peter shot Mark a look that stated he wasn’t ready to forgive him for kissing his mother just yet, that maybe he never would. Mark seemed to sense now wasn’t such a good time to join in and put the sandwich on the table, then prepared to leave.
“Peter’s upset about our dating.” Laurel figured Mark deserved an explanation, especially after all he’d done that afternoon and evening searching for her son and bringing him home.
“Peter, I value our friendship—” unfazed by Peter’s glower, Mark went on “—and want to keep hanging out, just the two of us. But I like your mother, too. Would it be okay if she and I went out once in a while?”
More silence from Peter, who was definitely not on board with Mom branching out.
“I know you’ve been through a lot of changes lately, and I thank you for sharing a lot of them with me when we surf,” Mark continued. “I don’t want to push you, so I’ll leave you with your mom for now and we can talk later.”
Mark turned to leave. When he got to the doors, he swung around. “I’m glad you’re home and safe, Peter. It scares me when my friends go missing.” He opened the door.
“Mark?” she said.
He looked back watching Laurel cuddling her skinny son.
“Thank you.”
How could he not see the deepest appreciation Laurel could possibly show from far across the room. She’d willed it into him. How grateful she was to him for bringing her son home. Things could have ended up a dozen different ways with Peter’s taking off on his own without telling anyone, they both knew it. Surely, his sheriff brother understood.
He nodded solemnly and closed the doors. She offered the turkey and cheese sandwich to Peter and surprisingly, he took half and ate a bite.
“I just want things to be the way they’ve been, just you and me and the twins,” Peter said, his mouth full.
Laurel couldn’t let that comment go without a challenge. “Don’t I have a say in it? And who says our family unit is going to change just because I go on a date?”
Peter hung his head, looking as though the entire world had just crashed on his shoulders.
“I get that you may feel abandoned by Dad’s dying,” she said, “Sometimes, I do, too. But get it in your head, I’m not leaving you. You’ll be begging me to leave you alone long before I will.” She figured a little humor injected into the tension in the room couldn’t hurt.
Peter relaxed a tiny bit in Laurel’s arms, giving her hope some of the words were sinking in. “You know beyond anything in the world that you’re my son and I love you with all my heart.”
Peter inhaled a long, ragged breath, and Laurel put her chin on the crown of his head. He’d always be her little boy, even though he was almost as tall as her now. She figured after all he’d been through today, he might want to hear her say it one more time. “I’ll never abandon you for anyone else. Please don’t ever take off again without telling me where you’re going.”
“Okay,” Peter mumbled, because his mouth was full with another bite of sandwich.
*
Mark was grateful the kid had made the right choice and come home with him and Conor. He also understood how deeply thankful Laurel was to have her boy home, and that Mark and Conor had brought him. Her sincere thanks was the only payment he needed.
The intense moments had made him thirsty, so he walked to the kitchen to get a drink of water before he left. He heard the girls laughing and making a racket. Then he remembered his brother had pulled bambino duty. The thought made him smile. He tiptoed down the hall to peek a look at how Conor was handling things, but with no intention of taking over. His little brother, who was two inches taller than him, sat cross-legged on the floor, with the twins messily building from mounds of primary-colored click-together blocks.
Seeing his huge brother in that position cracked a smile on his previously grave expression.
He padded back to the kitchen and drank the water. Man, being a parent had to be the toughest job in the world. It was certainly not a job he felt ready for, either firsthand or in a step-in role. He genuinely liked Peter, it was true they were friends, but having the responsibility of being a father figure was a whole different ball game.
Mark had heard enough of Laurel’s heartfelt pleas to her son to realize what a great mom she was. How she was nothing like any lady he’d ever been involved with before. And though he was nowhere near ready for anything more than stolen kisses and promising glances, it hit him what a good woman she was. His relationship with Laurel and her kids wasn’t for play. It was real, and he better be sure he was ready for it.
That from a guy who didn’t even feel ready to take on surfing lessons for guests at the hotel. And he loved surfing!
“Flush, wash and be on your way!” Claire said as the bathroom door closed. Was that for Conor or Gracie?
He gulped down the rest of the water, needing to get out of there but not wanting to get caught by Conor before he left. So he waited until he heard the toilet flush, the water run and the door open and close again. He peeked around the corner again and saw the back of his brother heading into the twins’ room. So Claire even bossed big guys around. It made him chuckle inside.
Feeling guilty, he headed down the hall to let Conor know before he left that he was sticking him with the childcare. But he overheard something else first, something he’d never expected to hear in his life.
When we play and make a mess, it’s always good to try our best,
To cleeeaaan up.
Conor had taken an old TV jingle and put new words to it to get the girls to help him clean up the toys. Would wonders never cease? Mark shook his head and smiled, then deciding not to interrupt the little play party, he left for the hotel, because he had a whole lot of thinking to do.
*
Around eleven, Laurel texted Mark. Feel like talking?
In her usual easygoing way, she’d coaxed him to tell her what was on his mind. A whole helluva lot!
After getting chewed out by Conor for abandoning him with the twins, Mark had been sitting on the pub deck thinking thoughts he hadn’t expected to think for years yet. About how he might be falling for someone for the first time in…a decade?
He couldn’t ignore Laurel’s invitation to talk, not after all she’d been through that day. Instead of answering her text, he walked across the street and tapped on her door. When she opened it, it was obvious she’d taken a shower and her hair was still damp. Dresse
d in pale gray girlie-styled sweats and big fuzzy slippers, she smiled demurely, not saying a word, like she’d been expecting him. As if they belonged together.
When he stepped inside, she hugged him, and he immediately remembered why he’d been thinking about Laurel the way he’d been for the last few hours. She felt right when he held her. Made him want to be around her…all the time.
“You okay?” he asked.
“I needed a hug.”
So he hugged her tighter and threw in a neck kiss. “Everyone in bed?”
She nodded. “Want some herbal tea? I just made a pot.”
It wasn’t his thing, and he didn’t want to let go of her, but why not. “Sure.”
They strolled to the kitchen, his arm around her shoulders, her arm tucked tight around his waist. She wasn’t kidding about having a pot of tea ready. She peeled away from his side and found a small tray, soon putting two of her beautiful bone china English teacups on it, then cream and sugar, and four homemade peanut butter cookies.
“I have an idea,” she whispered. “To keep from waking up the kids, I thought we could have tea upstairs.”
“Let me carry that for you.” He took the tray and let her lead the way to the far end of the second floor. The exact opposite of where her children slept below, he noted. She opened the door to the second-biggest guest room, not the honeymoon suite, but one with ample sitting space, and a gas fireplace that had conveniently already been lit, making the room feel extra cozy. Not to mention the huge bed in the large arched recess. Hmm, she must have been doing some thinking, too?
He set the tray on the coffee table in front of the daintily flower upholstered love seat, then sat.
She stood a couple of feet away, an appreciative look in her eyes. “I owe you a big thank-you for finding my kid.”
“Hey, I was glad we found him. All I did was put a few things together and get an idea.”
She poured them both some tea, handed him his cup, then sat beside him. “I don’t know what I would have done without you today.”
He didn’t know what he would’ve done if he hadn’t found Peter. “Did he open up more after I left?”
“He told me he trusted you, and got upset when he thought you had used him.”
“Damn, that makes me feel horrible.”
“I straightened him out. Plus, he believed what you told him.” She took a sip of chamomile tea and stared at him over the cup. “He admits you’re a great guy, and I told him that’s how I felt, too.”
She stopped talking in an obvious it’s your turn sort of way. He remembered the text and why he’d come over in the first place. “Well, while we’re admitting things, I guess I should say, first off, I really do like your son. In fact, I like all of your kids. You’ve done a great job.”
“Thank you. Some days, like today, I’m not so sure.”
“Nah, you’re a good mother. I can’t imagine all you’ve been through since your girls were born.”
Her gaze shifted downward, studying her tea. He could only imagine how hard she’d had it for so many years, and it made those protective feelings he’d been trying to avoid swell up again. “I have to also admit that I, too, really like you.” Could he sound stiffer? That was not the way to impress a lady. He needed to make his declaration more personal. He took the teacup from her hand and placed it on the small table to get her full attention, then edged closer to her. “Not to sound like a geeky kid, but that’s a big deal for me. Haven’t thought about a woman the way I think about you in a long time.”
Her gaze lifted ever so slowly, until he captured her stare. “And how is that, Mark, the way you think about me?” Gone was the thoughtful Laurel, in her place the flirty girl he was just getting to know, and especially liked.
He’d played poker enough in the army to know you never gave away your hand. As it stood, he had a lot of crazy mixed-up cards, but he somehow knew if he played them right he might win. One day. If that’s what he wanted.
“Besides a lot?” That got a twinge of a smile from her, which always tripped him up.
Could he trust her with his feelings? She seemed to trust him enough to invite him over at this late hour, to take him to a beautifully decorated guest suite, so they could have some privacy. It was damn obvious she trusted him on many levels.
“I think I’m falling for you—” he may just have revealed a card too many “—and to be honest, that’s freaking me out.”
Her eyes popped open a bit more, and she reached for his face. “I wouldn’t want you to freak out about anything on my account.” Then she kissed him, and he didn’t care if he’d blown his hand or not. “The thing is,” she said with a trusting gaze, “I think I’m falling for you, too.”
She had his full attention, and the sincerity in those wide, light hazel eyes made her look like a young, delicate-hearted girl. That worried him, yet he was drawn too closely to her in the moment, so he skipped over that “worried” part. Right to his gut reaction.
“Maybe we should test out this liking-each-other theory,” she said. It wasn’t a question, and it came out breathy and quiet and very, very sexy.
He’d been looking for a sign, or a tell, and she’d just given herself away. Blurted it right out. After a long, thoughtful gaze into the center of his eyes, triggering tiny bolts of lightning along his spine, she glanced toward the elephant in the room. The king-size four-poster bed.
“Did I mention the kids are all asleep?”
Chapter Seven
Mark seemed as shy about getting naked as Laurel felt. Were they ready for this—making love? Her emotions had been on a roller coaster all afternoon, and after all the chaos settled, her one remaining thought had been how special Mark was. He’d taken responsibility for her son’s running off, gone after him and brought him home.
She hadn’t met such a good man since Alan died—a real man, as her father used to call her husband. She knew better, didn’t she? To let her guard down? She had to protect herself for her children’s sake. Okay, that was a flat-out excuse, but still partially true. The thing was, Mark possessed the one characteristic she’d always been drawn to. He was trustworthy. Then all those gorgeous “all man” traits came next, which scared the wits out of her. Yet she’d just come this close to begging the man to make love to her. So the question remained, was she ready? All she wanted to do was get lost in his body for a while, to help put the horrors of the day behind her, to forget how lonely she was every day. For that, she was positive she was ready. But more? Not before she cushioned her heart, because she could never go through the torture of losing someone again. Tensing a bit, she worried she was making a mistake to let go with Mark.
He unbuttoned his shirt, then, with that amazing chest on display and those cut abs just beneath, he put a hand on each of her upper arms, with a serious-as-hell expression. “You sure about this?”
No! But her body betrayed her, wanting to be close and comforted, especially after all she’d gone through that afternoon. It had been so long. Couldn’t she take this bit of time for herself, just for right now? Be bold. Go for what you want. She pulled her top over her head and, in answer to his question about whether or not she was sure about this, whispered, “Yes.”
Her reward was a smoldering gaze of appreciation from a man who didn’t seem to mind she’d once carried twins and her abs were nonexistent. He moved in, and his warmth enveloped her. And it was exactly where she needed, no, wanted to be. With him. Completely.
Tucked safely away in the Gardenia guest room, they kissed and kissed, and he worked her up to near panting. Still, Mark kept his hands strictly above the waist. It gave her pause, and she wondered how long it’d been since he’d been with a woman. Mark would be the only other man she’d ever made love with besides Alan. The thought released a shiver through the heat Mark had done such a great job stoking with his deep kisses and needy caresses. Yet they were still only half-undressed and just halfway to the bed. Besides being the handiest man she’d ever met, he
was also a gentleman. Make it clear that you want him.
So she stepped things up several notches by reaching between the front of his legs and gently squeezing.
After that he delivered an amazingly ragged kiss, lifted her as she wrapped her thighs around his hips, walked her to the bed, then laid her down. In her excitement, she fought for her breath and let Mark have his way with her neck and breasts. Scattering chills across her shoulders and chest, he explored and kissed the parts bulging above her standard white bra. Her legs remained wrapped around his waist, a deep pulse pounding harder and harder in her core. Be careful, an annoying tiny voice far in the back of her mind whispered. She ignored it.
Suddenly needing more to silence her doubts, she cupped his head in her hands and guided his gaze up to hers, first kissing him tenderly on the lips, then reconnecting with those eyes. Silently she communicated, I’m ready, at once exciting and frightening her.
With his hair mussed and those heavy-lidded blues knocking her sideways with longing, she could practically hear his reply.
In the next moment, he lifted her again, her legs still wrapped around his hips, pulled back the bedspread and laid her against the supersoft sheets she’d handpicked for guests. Then he removed her bra and lounge-y sweatpants, and peeled down her weekday, nothing-special cotton briefs. Because she didn’t have any idea her day would end like this when she’d showered an hour ago. In the next moment, he got rid of his jeans and baby blue boxer briefs.
The sight of Mark Delaney without his shirt or underwear, fully erect, nearly blinded her with desire. The nagging reservations dropped like autumn leaves—she finally and firmly gathered them and tossed them out the window—and the chills ignited in scattershot when he covered her. She felt every part of his tight body. So different from Alan. When Mark rolled over and she wound up on top, his hands cupping her hips snugly against him, sparklers set off beneath every erogenous zone she possessed. As they moved together, slick with heat, powered by passion, she became completely lost in Mark, and the amazing way he made her feel. And how very, very lucky she was.
Soldier, Handyman, Family Man Page 12
