by Mindy Neff
Eddie nodded.
Adam stood, pulling Molly up with him. He handed Elena a card with their home phone number and address on it. “Why don’t you sleep on our offer and call us tomorrow?”
“When will you be needing to fill this position?”
“We’re ready whenever you are.” That wasn’t exactly so. Renovations were still under way, state certifications and local permits pending. He felt Molly’s glance, felt the gentle squeeze she gave his arm in appreciation for his fib.
She stepped around him and hugged Elena. It always amazed him how easily her affections were bestowed, her way of making everyone feel special.
They made their way out the door, Molly once again slipping her hand in his with a naturalness that melted his soul.
“Miss Kincade?” Eddie had followed them onto the second-floor balcony. They stopped at the top of the stairs and turned back. The porch light glanced off his dark eyes, illuminating the sparkle of tears he tried to hide. “Uh…” His voice cracked. “Thanks. You too, Mr. Walsh.”
Molly made a move toward Eddie, but Adam held her back. The kid was fighting for bravery. If she gathered him in her arms the way he knew she intended to do, Eddie would lose it. And tough-guy adolescents didn’t deal well with embarrassment.
“It’s a legit offer, Eddie,” Adam said. “Make sure I see you in school tomorrow.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Eddie gave a macho wave and stepped back into the house.
“He could have used a hug,” Molly griped, matching Adam’s steps as they descended the stairs.
“Not with all these other guys hanging around outside. Come on, Miss Fairy Godmother. You’ve dispensed enough goodwill for one night.”
She grinned up at him. “Oh, what a wonderful thing to say. I do feel a little like a fairy godmother.”
“Well, tuck your wand away and let’s get out of here before somebody steals the wheels off the car.”
“Ah, so the real reason for leaving the Porsche at home comes out.”
It gave him a punch in the gut when she referred to his house as home. “The tires cost more.”
“Careful, Adam. I might start thinking you’ve developed an attachment for a possession.” He noticed that she automatically went to the driver’s side of the Honda.
“Wrong door, princess.”
She shrugged. “Force of habit. I keep forgetting I now have a male ego to put up with.”
He put a hand at her waist and urged her between the parallel-parked cars. She raised her brow at the lack of space between her Honda’s front bumper and the rear taillights of the Chevy. It wasn’t the same car that had been there before.
“Close quarters,” she remarked. “Sure you don’t want me to get us out of here?”
“No. I don’t.” He unlocked the passenger door, put his hand on top of her head and gave a friendly push.
Molly just grinned and reached for her seat belt. “Macho man.” Her lips quirked and Adam’s eyes narrowed. “Hey, I think it’s kinda cute.”
He just glared and slammed the door.
PROPPED IN BED, Adam watched as Molly came out of the bathroom, letting out a flow of steam and the scent of vanilla. It was like a fist in the solar plexus every time he caught sight of her. Her skin was pink from the hot bath, her face free of makeup. The thin, silky robe clung to her lithe body. He felt like the luckiest man in the world, knowing that in just a few minutes she’d be crawling into his bed, snuggling up next to him, her delicate fingers dancing over his skin.
But he wasn’t the luckiest man in the world. In fact, he was probably the most unlucky. Because as much as he wanted to keep her, hold her to him right on into eternity, he couldn’t.
He didn’t have a future to give her. Couldn’t guarantee her tomorrow, much less eternity. Still, these hours with her were his own slice of both heaven and hell. He’d take the one, selfishly, for just a little while longer, knowing he’d get the other soon enough.
“Molly?”
“Hmm?” She was bent at the waist, smoothing scented lotion over her legs.
“What was it that gave me away?”
She jerked, spilling the lotion, scooping it back into the bottle and carefully closing the cap.
Turning, she crossed the room and climbed onto the bed, crawling across the turned-back spread. He lifted his arm, making room for her against his side. Her skin smelled like every one of his fantasies, a signature scent he’d never been able to get out of his mind.
“I knew it was you. It had to be. Because when I fall in love, it’s forever. And I found myself falling for you.” She traced his face, the scar at his brow, the dimple in his chin and the scar there, too, reaching up to press her lips against it.
“And I could never forget your kiss.” Her voice was hushed, as if to speak any louder might snap some invisible, fragile thread. “The last day I saw you, you kissed me goodbye. When you didn’t come back, I kept remembering that kiss, the texture, the flavor, the style. I built dreams around it. I haven’t kissed anyone since you.”
Adam closed his eyes, knowing he didn’t deserve this woman. He was a worthless ex-G-man who’d known nothing about softness until Molly had come into his world. She could teach him so much about life and love and loyalty. She had so much faith in him. If he only had the time…
“So when you kissed me at the charity dance, I knew, even though you denied it. It felt as if no time at all had passed.” She scooted up his body and leaned over him, her heart-charm necklace dangling forward, tickling his bare chest.
Slowly her mouth lowered to his. He drank in her scent, unable to keep his hands off her.
“And I love the way you kiss me,” she whispered. “The way you take my face between your hands, the way your fingers feel in my hair.”
Molly used her tongue to trace the seam of his lips. “I’d know you anywhere, behind any face. Because I’m your lady, Adam.” She wanted to say love, but held it back, never mind that he could read it in her thoughts, in her eyes.
“And you’re my man. Sometimes it scares me, this power I feel, as if you’re the other half of my soul. As long as I can hear the sound of your heartbeat, though, I can deal with the fear.”
“Molly—”
She covered his lips, whispered into his mouth, “Don’t think about tomorrow, Adam. Just give me right now.”
Chapter Eleven
He couldn’t fight her, was more than glad to take the coward’s way out, to do as she asked and not think about tomorrow, to accept what she offered so freely. To give back in return.
He slipped the robe off her shoulders, reveling in the softness of her skin. I’m your lady.
This woman humbled him. She filled him with life when he considered himself half-dead. He was lost. And the more she opened to him, the deeper he fell.
“There were nights,” he said quietly, holding her silky hair back from her face, “when I’d lay awake, sweating, so disgusted with what I’d become, feeling sorry for myself. And I’d dream about you. Just like this, lying above me, holding me.” He felt her shudder of response, saw the desire dilate her pupils.
“Oh, Adam. I dreamed, too.”
He tugged her face back down, angled her head and devoured her mouth, feeling frantic, as if alligators were snapping at his heels, as if he had to rash, to stay one step ahead.
He couldn’t get close enough, knew he could never make it last long enough. He felt her pulse hammer beneath his fingertips, knew that the strength of this woman was a memory he would carry with him long past the grave. She never shied away from the power of his need. Instead, she matched it, gave it right back.
His hands swept over her, down her back. He cupped her buttocks, tilting her hips, pressing her against him. Her arm was still caught in the sleeve of her robe. She shook it off, impatience screaming, her body writhing against his.
Hot, so sweet. Her breasts crushed against his chest, her hips nestled into his, moving, restless, need building. He rolled with her, jerking
her beneath him.
“No,” she panted, pushing him back, wrestling him for the superior position. “Let me.” She straddled his hips, her hands kneading his chest, his arms, all of him that she could reach.
Cherished. Her fingertips—so light, so eroticdanced over him, cherished him. Made him feel invincible when he knew the opposite was true. Emotion swelled in his chest, aching, threatening his composure. His throat closed. If he were capable of it, he might have cried. But he couldn’t. He could only lie there, muscles straining, heart soaring.
He felt the familiar rush, tried to control it.
“Shh,” she whispered. “Just feel. Easy.”
Their roles were reversed. He should be calling the shots, yet it was she who gentled him. His Molly. So small…so strong.
Her lips trailed softly over his heated skin, nipping, soothing, exciting. She knew just when to press harder, just when a light touch was better. She found points of pleasure he hadn’t known existed.
His hands skimmed her sides, tested the weight of her heavy breasts, circled and squeezed. Her skin was so delicate, milky white with a light tracing of blue veins just beneath the surface.
It was the hardest thing he’d ever done to lie there and let her minister to him, pleasure him. And when he could take it no more, he returned the favor, shifting her, using lips, hands, tongue and his whole body, gently, so gently, watching her, gauging her desire.
Molly felt the sting of tears. Something was different about his touch, a reverence that bordered on desperation, as if this would be their last time. But it wouldn’t. The power of her love would make sure of it.
She felt the fever of his skin, held him tighter, willed him her strength, her love, her faith.
When his fingers dipped into her, her breath snagged. Like a match to dry tinder, her insides flamed, then swelled, throbbed. A white-hot flash of desire raced through her, leaving her gasping and dizzy.
The world spun away, narrowing to encompass just the king-size mattress and the two of them. And still he gave her no respite, no time to catch her breath. Her limbs felt both weighted and energized. He touched her as if she were the most precious thing, touched her as no other man could touch her. She could hardly believe such intensity existed.
Her body shuddered and clutched.
And when she felt his lips against her in the most intimate of kisses, she came apart. The instant climax rocked her. Colors exploded behind her eyelids, vibrant and erotic. The shudders went on and on. She gripped his shoulders, feeling both sluggish and empowered.
“Now,” she begged. “Adam, now!”
She felt his weight shift, knew he was reaching for the ever-present condom. “No,” she moaned, trying to tell him it wasn’t necessary. She’d have his babies. Wanted his babies.
His eyes squeezed shut as he rose above her. “I can’t chance it. You know that.”
His voice was tortured. She knew he’d heard her thoughts. The thread of urgency waned as emotion twisted her insides into ropes of despair. “How long, Adam? How long before you’ll chance it? A month? A year? Ten years?”
He covered her mouth, stopping her words, her plea. “I’m sorry.”
“No,” she whispered, realizing she’d allowed reality to intrude on their magic. He might not have a month or a year…or ten years. And that horrible threat made their time together all the more bittersweet and precious.
It was a time where there was no room for demands or decisions or dissension. Nor was it a time for tears or plans for a future. It was a time just to hold and be held tight in return, to live for the moment and make that moment the best it could be.
A time to build memories and dream.
“I’m sorry. I lost my head,” she whispered. “I understand.” He wouldn’t chance creating a child when the substance that altered his body chemistry was still unidentified. And still unspoken was the awful reality that he wouldn’t leave her to raise a child alone.
She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, held on, absorbed him right into her soul, apologized with the sketch of her lips against his sweat-dampened shoulder, against the scar where the metal pins had been removed.
Where before there had been urgency, now there was quiet solace. And when at last he eased into her, it was a restful coming-home, a rightness that bolstered and rejuvenated and rejoiced. So easy, so silently, with gazes locked and hearts whispering. With no second thoughts, no explanations, no past or future. Just now. Two souls merging, a moment out of time.
Love doesn’t ask why, she told him again, using only her body and mind, not her words. It speaks from the heart and never explains.
She felt him swell even more inside her, felt his acceptance, his appreciation…his love. So they took what they’d found in one another, that once-in-a-lifetime bond, and allowed it to wrap around them, fill them—accepted the celebration and joy and tenderness of the moment.
No words.
Their bodies spoke, softly, slowly, faithfully. A beautiful joining that transcended the physical. He was buried deep inside her, and she felt him throb, felt her own response, synchronizing as their two hearts became one.
So still. So utterly exquisite. His lips lowered, barely touching, breaths mingling, eyes wide open, holding, loving in utter silence, utter stillness. Like an ancient ritual that soon became an obsession.
Her heartbeat picked up in rhythm, thudding deep in her chest. She felt the sensations begin to build, like a ripple coming from a distant shore, gaining speed and momentum, a rush of power, of passion. Her chest heaved, the tips of her breasts touching his chest, retreating, pressing again with each inhale.
She shifted, urging him higher, silently letting him know it was time for more.
And he gave her more. Slowly at first, then with building speed, the friction of his thrusts taking her right to the peak of madness, then all the way over the top.
“ARE YOU GOING to get up some time today, sleepy-head?” Molly asked. Adam didn’t budge and Molly frowned.
“Adam?” She touched his arm, felt the heat in his skin, the sweat at his forehead. Her heart trembled on the verge of panic. Heat was a good sign. It meant he was alive. But why didn’t he wake up? He was normally a light sleeper; more often than not, he shot straight up if the bed wiggled.
She shook him, hard, her heart pounding in fear. “Adam!”
His eyes opened slowly, sluggishly. They were bloodshot, dazed.
She let out a relieved sigh. “Are you all right?”
He nodded but didn’t speak. She pressed her lips against his temple, his eyelids, refusing to give in to the fear that tried to battle its way into her mind, conjuring all sorts of horrible scenarios.
“Sleep a while longer,” she whispered. “I’ll go make the coffee.”
ADAM NEEDED DISTANCE. What he and Molly had shared last night had raked his soul, stunned him. He wanted to run from the pain, from something that was so right yet so wrong.
His eyes had finally opened this morning to greet the sun—after Molly had nearly pounded him. But would they tomorrow? He didn’t know. The overwhelming tiredness scared the hell out of him. And because of that, he needed to tie up some loose ends. In a hurry. Before he became so weak—either physically or mentally—that she could talk him into staying.
He was sipping coffee when she came downstairs again, dressed for work in a pair of jeans and a tan blazer. Her heart-charm necklace flirted with the low-cut edge of her navy blue camisole. Looking at the jewelry, he felt blinded, felt as if his own heart had a crack in it.
Molly paused when she entered the kitchen, unhappy with the scowl she saw on Adam’s face. Never one to shy away from unpleasantness, she breezed right up to him, slipped under his arm and stood on tiptoe to kiss him.
“You might as well stop scowling. If ESP’s contagious, I think I’ve caught it. I can tell exactly what you’re thinking.”
“And what’s that?”
“You’ve got one foot out the door, Adam Walsh, and I�
�ll have none of it. So what if you were extra tired this morning. I get that way, too. There’s no sense in even thinking about running away. I’ll just follow.”
“Molly…”
“Damn it, Adam! Just shut up, would you?” She actually astonished herself by stamping her foot. She never stamped her feet.
She’d obviously surprised him, too. His brows shot up, and his eyes widened. And true to form, Molly laughed. She braced a hand against his chest and rested her forehead there—and laughed. “Now see what you’ve made me do,” she accused between gasping breaths. “My makeup’s running down my face.”
He tipped her chin up with his finger, his own lips quirked in a reluctant grin. “No streaks,” he declared. “Fierce little thing, aren’t you?”
She thumped him in the chest. “Watch it, buddy.”
“I’d like to just watch you.”
“Oh, what a thing to say five minutes before we have to leave for work.” She glanced around the huge kitchen, then eased up against his body. The snaps of their jeans snagged. “On the other hand, that table looks about the right height. Care to call in sick?”
She felt his body’s instant response, heard the deep growl in his throat. He hauled her in his arms and kissed her until she saw stars.
“Quick,” she panted. “Hand me that phone.”
“Uh-uh.” His lips nibbled at her ear, sending chills racing down her spine.
“What do you mean, no?”
“Gotta go to work.”
“Then what the heck are you doing kissing me like that and munching on my ear?”
He grinned. “Retaliation, Miss Molly, pure and simple. You make me hot, I return the favor. You had no intention of following through with that table suggestion.”
“I do now.”
“Sorry.” He pressed a quick kiss to her forehead and set her away from him. “I’ll take a rain check, though.”
Oh, yes, she thought. She’d give him a rain check, all right. Because rain checks meant a person would be back, that they wouldn’t run away.
“Think you’re pretty smart, don’t you?”
