by Dani Collins
“Oh, L.C.” Sliding deeper into the seat, Mercedes closed her eyes. Why did he have to make this so easy and so difficult?
“I’ll leave the keys in the truck. You think about it while I’m inside. And listen, if you decide to drive away, don’t worry. I’ll make my way back when I’m ready. I just... I really want to hold you, M. Just for an hour.”
Chapter 19
Mercedes didn’t get out of the truck and walk away. She didn’t slide behind the wheel and drive away, either. She waited for L.C., knowing this was nuts, but just for an hour she wanted to be selfish. She wanted to be held. She wanted to be a woman who didn’t have two kids. Hi, Porsha, she thought, but still didn’t move.
L.C. smiled slow and warm when he came back out, making her heart trip.
“Why do I get the feeling I’m not the first girl you’ve persuaded to skip school to go parking?”
The crinkles beside his eyes deepened as he drove to the end of the building and parked. They climbed the outside stairs to the third floor.
The room was stuffy and boringly neutral in green and gold, but clean and bright. Mercedes left the heavy drapes open with only the sheer drawn, kicked off her sandals and dropped her purse.
L.C. flopped onto the bed, opened his arms and said, “Come here.”
She crawled onto the bed and he gathered her close, holding her in tight, safe arms, rolling so they lay on their sides, facing each other. Mercedes nuzzled her nose into his chest, inhaling all the subtleties that were L.C., appreciating the flat, hard muscles that refused to give against her cheek. She dug her fingers into his back and twined her legs with his, and they both shuddered and clung.
“You know what’s weird?” he asked, weaving his fingers into her hair and urging her closer. “I’ve slept with women because I was hurting, and God knows plenty have slept with me because they were hurting, but I’ve never slept with a woman who was hurting for the same reason I was.”
“Oh, L.C.” She squirmed closer and felt his fingers tighten in her hair.
“You have no idea how much I need this,” he whispered.
“I do,” she whispered back, lifting her head to touch her lips to his stubbly chin.
The hollow ache inside her eased and it was such a relief. She wished she could stay like this with him, close and warm, holding on, forever.
They stayed exactly like that a long while, not even speaking, just hugging and offering a few tender kisses to temple or throat. But soon idle touch turned questing. Their lips met in a real kiss. L.C. touched his tongue to hers and cupped her breast. Sweet fire kindled in her blood and she squirmed closer.
“I’m too hot,” she broke their kiss to say, then kissed him again.
He moaned agreement and they pulled at their clothes. Tugged free buttons and belt buckles, slithered hands into tight pockets of warm fabric and hot skin. His belly muscles jumped as she stroked the prickling hair along his navel, then found the thicker nest, the smooth shaft thrusting up.
His fingers slid south and incited, while their kisses grew wetter and longer and hungrier. With a suddenness that shocked her, she hit a sharp peak and gasped. L.C. stilled with surprise then played it out for her, chuckling softly against her ear.
“You’re easier than I am,” he said as she relaxed.
“You’re not that easy. You still have most of your clothes on.”
They pushed away from each other and closed the curtains properly and shucked clothing, kicking free to fall together again, rolling and rubbing in the square of paisley orange bedspread, moaning at the exquisite contact.
“I’ve been dying to know how far these freckles go,” L.C. said, lifting on an elbow to survey her nudity.
“All the way, baby.”
“And mercy me, the carpet matches the drapes.” He lightly stroked her springy auburn curls, then lowered his eyelids and deepened the caress, watching his hand and the way her hips lifted into his touch.
Mercedes closed her eyes, humming her enjoyment. “You’re awfully good at that.”
“I’m a man of many talents. Allow me to demonstrate.” He kissed her, then licked her nipple while his hand left her, moving to press her thighs open, making space for himself as he settled over her. He slid down, his lips brushing her ribcage.
“Wait.”
He lifted his head to give her a dark, hungry look. “Don’t say no, M. I’ll die.”
“No, I... I can do that, too.”
One brow cocked up and then he rolled away, splaying himself on his back. “Darlin’, I have officially died and gone to heaven.”
With a little chuckle, she came up on her knees above his head. “Me, too,” she said, bending to kiss his lips. “Spiderman kiss,” she murmured, because he was upside down to her.
“Is that what we’re calling this?” he asked in a throaty voice and her heart stilled. He almost made it sound like they had a future beyond this stolen afternoon.
Kissing her way down the center of his chest, she felt his hands grip her hips, guiding her to where he wanted her, pressing a hot kiss between her legs as she opened her mouth on him.
Heaven.
“You don’t get tired, do you?” she asked two hours later, dropping her arm over her eyes as he rolled off her, leaving her still tingling and just a little bit sore in the best possible way. Her skin was sweaty and sensitive, her lips salty and tender, her muscles achy and all of her sweet, sweet, sweet. She wanted to groan and roll and writhe in sheer ecstasy, but she didn’t have the energy.
“You’re the nympho. Jesus, M. I knew you’d put me through my paces, but I’m gonna call the cops if you don’t lay off.”
“Poor you.” She smiled blindly with her eyes still covered. He had made love to her on a bed of towels on the bathroom floor after their shower, made her come twice in there before bringing her to bed for two more. He was the one with all the stamina.
And yet there was something greedy in her that wanted him inside her again. She lifted her arm and crooked her neck to glance at the clock.
“Stop doing that,” he said.
“What?”
“You keep looking at the clock like it’s pointing a gun at you. This doesn’t have to be it, M. We can figure this out, make it work. Just ask me to stay.”
She groaned and dropped her forearm into place again.
L.C. sighed and rolled into her, gathering her alongside him, warming her cooling skin and pulling a pillow under their heads but leaving them sideways across the mattress.
“Why can’t you have kids?” he asked.
Oh, shit. Were they going there? She sighed.
“Tumors.” She pulled back a little so she could see him. “Not cancer. Something the doctors figure was hereditary. Mom’s sister had some, but mine got really bad because Mom put me on the pill pretty much the day I got my period. There are some that wouldn’t have made it worse, but we didn’t know, so I was on the wrong one. They gave me awful periods, too, not that Mom wanted to hear about it. I finally got diagnosed when I fainted at work. Turns out I was seriously anemic. I tried to manage it for a few years, but I finally had surgery five years ago. Rather than have a full hysterectomy, which would have put me into early menopause, they took part of my uterus and tied my tubes.”
L.C. frowned. “You’re not even thirty, are you? That’s young for such a big decision.”
“I was twenty-six, but I was spending ten days out of twenty-eight in bed. It was hell. I actually tried to get pregnant for a year before having the surgery.”
“With who?” he demanded.
“A guy I was seeing. He was nice, but being off the pill made my periods even worse. I finally woke up and realized how stupid I was being. I mean, I was trying to have a kid with a guy I didn’t really love because my sister was having kids. I thought I’d regret not having one someday, but I wasn’t really keen right then. That’s nuts, right?”
He opened his mouth, seemed to hesitate, then asked carefully, “Do you regret it? I g
uess you can adopt if you want a family.”
“Or surrogate. I still have my ovaries and I froze some eggs, so I have options. But yeah, I’ll always be sad I can’t get pregnant. I saw a counselor before and after, though. That turned out to be the best thing that ever happened to me. I worked through a lot of stuff about Mom and Porsha. I never would have wrapped my brain around separating my own life from theirs if I hadn’t seen that psychologist. And, frankly? My sister’s kids are about all I can handle. I don’t know if I want my own if I’m forever stepping in to help them.” She craned her neck to look at the clock again.
“Mercedes.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do that. I’m trying not to, but I want both, L.C. I’m greedy. I want you and I want to do what’s right for the kids. Can you stand to take it slow? To be second to them whenever that has to happen?”
He jolted and lifted to loom over her. His hand splayed on her flat belly. “Are you kidding? I’ll take whatever I can get.”
That made her feel like she was taking advantage of him, but she traced his mouth with her fingertip, beginning to tremble, which was silly. “Really?” Tears came into her eyes. She needed him so much.
“Yeah. ‘course.” He caught her hand and kissed it. Then he eased himself over her, a blanket of whispers and butterfly touches.
“You’re gonna break my heart, aren’t you?” she said, cupping his face.
“Pretty sure it’ll be the other way around,” he said, shadows moving into his eyes. “But I’m also sure it’ll be worth it.”
She drew him down to touch lips to lips. At the same time, he shifted and nudged where she was tender and wet. She arched and gasped as he entered her, so perfectly male and silky, so hot and completely hers.
Mercedes walked around with a dopey grin on her face all morning Friday. Friday the thirteenth. Lucky after all. She and L.C. had slipped back to the complex under the radar and managed to keep their hands off each other until dark. Then they’d shared a few furtive snogs before agreeing they’d both sleep very well thank you very much.
She hadn’t seen him yet this morning, but her insides churned with excitement as she considered hunting him down in the multi-purpose room where he was supposed to check a blown fuse. First, she had to get some work done, though.
Except she couldn’t seem to book the blood pressure truck without her own spiking at every heavy footstep. The email was out of control, but she stared into space rather than reading it. The board needed to meet to discuss an election. Letters needed to be written to the wait list people about Harrison’s unit, but all she could think about was how badly she wished L.C. could move in with her.
The kids might ask a few pointed questions, of course.
Mercedes sighed. Nice fantasy, but her relationship with L.C. needed to stay well below detection. And she really, really needed to get some work done.
Of course, recognizing that fact and seriously attempting to get to work meant that someone immediately materialized at her desk. Pete Dolinski arrived with a plain white envelope in his hand. He cleared his throat self-consciously.
“For Harrison’s estate,” he said, trying to drop the envelope and disappear into the cantina without saying more.
Mercedes picked it up, frowning as she glimpsed a wad of five dollar bills.
“Mr. Dolinski?” she called to his retreating back.
He stiffened and turned with reluctance, his hand rubbing at his offset, apologetic smile. “Just a settlement of a debt. See it gets accounted to him, if you don’t mind.”
“But I need to know who it’s from. What is it?”
Mr. Dolinski smoothed his shirtfront and approached, every step stiff while he muttered under his breath. “See here, Mercedes. This is a touchy subject, very poor taste, and I wouldn’t have brought it to your attention, but Harrison won fair and square.”
“Won what?”
“The pool.”
“What pool?” she asked, feeling her heart sink because she already knew.
Worse, in her periphery, she noted the courtyard door sliding open with a hushed whoosh. A man wearing jeans and white T-shirt entered just as Mr. Dolinski said, “L.C.’s truck was seen outside a motel yesterday. Shortly after you left with him.”
“Oh, God.” She ducked her head and covered her eyes, listening for L.C. to react.
Mr. Dolinski cleared his throat. He was a little deaf and seemed oblivious to the fact they were being overheard because he said, “None of my business, of course, and I wouldn’t have said a word to you, but the son of a bitch won.”
Mercedes couldn’t help it. She started laughing. Peering over her hand, she saw Pete Dolinski’s embarrassment turn to relief. He chuckled with her.
“Lucky bastard,” he added.
“L.C. or Harrison?” she asked, letting her gaze slide past Mr. Dolinski to L.C., bringing him in on the joke.
Except it wasn’t L.C. It was Zack, holding a box of books.
Oh, good grief. “Why aren’t you in school?” she asked, blushing to the roots of her soul.
“It’s exam week.” Flat. Not amused.
Mr. Dolinski gave the boy an oh-shit glance, turned red himself, and scuffled away.
Hotter than a habanero pepper, Mercedes grinned anyway, willing to take her lumps. She waited for a comment, a joke, a knowing smile...something to indicate Zack was over whatever mad he had against L.C. and was okay with her sleeping with his father.
“Dad said these go in the sun room?” He tilted the box of books so she could see they were Harrison’s.
“Oh, uh, right.”
As he headed down the hall, Mercedes stifled the urge to call out and ask him what bug had crawled up his behind.
In fact, she might go ask L.C. right now what his son’s problem was, seeing as she was getting so little done anyway. There was no reason as far as she could tell that Zack should disapprove. He was eighteen, for goodness’ sake, not eight.
Maybe things weren’t going well with his girl. He’d been concerned Holly’s father wouldn’t approve, but seriously, she couldn’t imagine anyone not being proud to have a young man like him join their family. She would sign on for that in a heartbeat.
With a little pinch in her chest, she thought of L.C. asking her about her inability to have kids yesterday. For the first time in a while, she’d felt deep regret that she couldn’t make a baby, couldn’t have a family. With him. That’s all she had ever wanted: a real family.
Maybe they could. Maybe it wouldn’t be picture perfect. Not the kind like the one climbing from the van in the parking lot— Who were those people?
Mercedes squinted. She knew all the regular visitors and had seen photos of pretty much every grandchild, great-grandchild and great-great. Besides, she would have remembered that blond hunk of perfection.
She watched him open the side of the minivan and bring out a blond toddler wearing a pair of pink bib overalls and a yellow t-shirt. He must have woken the girl because she drooped her head onto his shoulder in that trusting way babies had. As he rounded the back of the van, he met up with a stacked brunette holding another toddler.
No woman should look that good after having twins.
Actually, the baby girl on the woman’s hip was bigger, her face rounder and her bare arms brown where the other baby’s were pale. The older baby had sun-tips in her brown hair and it fuzzed out in a gorgeously poofy afro.
The couple held some kind of discussion as they approached the doors. Mercedes suspected the older child had been adopted. She’d heard that story before, when talking infertility with other women. I didn’t think I could get pregnant, but the minute we adopted, along came junior here.
Maybe someday she would adopt, like L.C. had suggested. She smiled as the couple came in, the man holding the door, the woman saying, “Grow up. It’s not a competition.”
“Did you hear the way he was talking when we left?”
“Do you hear yourself? You’re dreaming if you think we�
��re going to find time—Hi.” The woman smiled at Mercedes.
As Mercedes met her dark, soft gaze, she felt like she’d just met her new best friend. It was weird, like she knew the woman, recognized her, yet...
“Have we met? You’re not Mrs. Hapsburg’s daughter, are you?” Mercedes asked.
“No, I’m— There he is!” The woman started to offer her hand to Mercedes, but broke off as she saw Zack striding up the hall. Her arm went up in a hug of greeting.
“Hey! What are you guys doing here?” He smiled widely, so obviously excited, Mercedes grinned along with all of them, watching the mini-reunion as the woman gave him a one-armed hug and kissed his cheek, and the man shook his hand.
“I told her to call first,” the man said to Zack, almost defensive.
“Why did you even bother driving down? I only have one more exam and a few more community hours, then I’ll be home.”
“But your dad said he wouldn’t be coming with you. He won’t say where he’s headed, so...” The woman laughed as the baby she held turned from Zack’s attempt to take her.
“Oh, come on, Lindsay,” Zack said to the back of the little frizzy head. “You just saw me at Christmas. You know who I am.”
The older toddler shook her head, refusing to go into his waiting hands, but she was grinning. Playing hard to get.
“Brat,” Zack said affectionately, and patted her poofy hair while he said, “Mercedes, this is my Auntie Paige.”
Mercedes finally got her handshake and shared one with Auntie Paige’s dishy husband.
“Sterling Roy,” Zack said, then picked up the hand of the little blond baby. “This is Elizabeth. She’s theirs. Lizzie Beth will come see me, won’t you, sweetheart?”
“No,” Lindsay said, putting out her hand.
“Then you come see me,” Zack said.
“No!”
“Oh, go to your brother. You’re heavy,” Paige persuaded, giving the little girl a tiny jiggle.
Brother, Mercedes thought, and for some reason, her extremities went cold.
“Come on, Linds. I’ll give you an airplane ride,” Zack coaxed.
