Melting Into You

by Laura Trentham

  Her smile faltered, and she surrendered any attempt of bravery or politeness. His touch sizzled through her nerve endings in remembered pleasure, but just as quickly, dread followed.

  “What do you want?” She shrugged his hand off and barked the question. Her current predicament was half his fault, even if he didn’t realize it. He probably wouldn’t care anyway. Just like college.

  He clenched his hand into a fist at his side. His entire body seemed to take on a similar defensive aggression, yet his face remained bland and unemotional. The man was a freaking robot—except in bed. Then, his hazel eyes had sparked and his face had reflected soul-changing intensity.

  He was dressed in crisp khakis and another button-down, this one red-and-blue checked, his hair brushed and tamed. Her eau de stale pizza and chocolate milk did not mingle favorably with his combination of soap and male body spray. She pulled at her shirt, wishing there was a display of something she could hide behind.

  “I see you’re taking my advice on the surge protector.”

  He spoke as if he hadn’t seen her nearly naked, hadn’t been inside of her, hadn’t made her climax so hard she’d forgotten all her worries for a few amazing moments. It was all too close to what she’d experienced with him in college, but even worse. At least then, she could blame teenage hormones and beer. How had she gotten dumber since college?

  “Oh my God, you are such an asshole.”

  A tear slipped down her cheek, and she wiped it away with the back of her hand. She shoved his beloved surge protector at his chest and took off in a run-walk. Once through the automatic doors, she ran for her SUV.

  But he hadn’t bothered to chase after her. And why would he? Who wanted to be with a mess of a woman like her? Her SUV was a decade old, her house was two centuries old, and she might be knocked-up. Plus, he was under the assumption she had used sex to get a pass on a freaking electrical inspection. Could things get worse?

  Her phone rang. Her mother. Dear Lord, the universe had it in for her today. She ignored the call, not up to handling her mother’s subtle jabs and not-so-subtle guilt trips. She had taken Lilliana’s move to Falcon as a betrayal. As if the bond to Lilliana’s unreliable, mostly absent father was stronger than to the woman who raised her.

  Her mother would never understand the draw to Falcon had little to do with her father, and everything to do with the bosomy hugs and coddling she received from Aunt Esmerelda and the rest of the librarians. And between Darcy and Logan and her cousins, she’d always had someone to play with. Her summers in Falcon had been starkly different than her life as a latchkey kid in an apartment building full of adults.

  As a single parent, her mother had been responsible and no-nonsense. Her response to the Alec situation would involve disappointed head shaking and a directive to buck up and deal with it head-on.

  Falcon was full of family and friends. No matter what happened, she didn’t have to face the fallout alone. Maybe that’s why she returned after her father left her Hancock House and why she stayed.

  She dialed her best friend, hoping she was in town and not overseeing one of her new projects. Jessica Wilde answered with a chipper, “Hello, sweetie. I was just thinking about you.”

  The tears Lilliana had managed to stave off in Walmart burst out in hiccupping waves.

  “Where are you? Have you been in an accident?” Jessica’s voice was frantic.

  She pulled in a shuddery breath. “No, nothing like that. Are you home?”

  “At Adaline’s, but I can meet you at the house in ten. You okay to drive?”

  She shuddered in a deep breath and wiped the tears off her cheeks even as more welled out of her eyes. “Yep. I’ll meet you there.”

  She hung up and started her old Bronco, pumping the gas a few times while the engine sputtered. In her rearview mirror, a tall brown-haired man grew larger. Throwing the Bronco in reverse, she whipped out of the space too fast and drove off, leaving Alec standing in the parking lot.

  * * *

  The next day, Alec wandered through the weight room of the practice pavilion in a distracted, dark mood. The words Lilliana had launched at him still echoed in his head. Had he been an asshole?

  After he’d stalked out of her house in righteous indignation, he’d alternately cursed her and then his gullibility. He’d felt used and stupid. But, seeing her standing there looking a panicked mess with a tear slipping down her face, he wondered if his high horse hadn’t gone lame.

  That was the thing with Lilliana. She had no poker face. When she laughed, her entire being lit with joy. When she was angry, her eyes flashed with murderous intent. When she was sad, her face reflected an aching melancholy. Yesterday, she hadn’t been able to hide her hurt. The blame aimed squarely at him. Had he misjudged the situation? Had he misjudged her? Acid churned in his stomach.

  The surge protector he’d bought for her was still in its bag on his desk. He hadn’t had the chance—or courage—to drop it off. He plopped into his chair and pulled a bottle of Tums from one of the drawers.

  Logan Wilde sauntered in, whistling a tune, happy and untroubled. Alec wanted to punch him. Logan shot him a look before sitting down. Their desks were set up catty-corner, which made it difficult to ignore him. Logan was a nice guy, as were the other coaches, but Alec tried to keep things as impersonal as possible.

  “Dude, you look like shit,” Logan said with his typical good humor.

  Alec sighed and toyed with the plastic bag. “I haven’t been sleeping well.”

  Logan chuckled with an air of commiseration. “I see ‘woman trouble’ flashing in neon red. Who is she?”

  Alec tapped his finger on the desk, debating how much to tell, if anything. He hadn’t allowed anyone close since his fall from NFL fame to obscurity after blowing his knee out. That’s when he’d learned how few true friends he’d had. Once the money train stopped, everyone had cleared out, leaving him to pick up the pieces alone. The betrayal soured his life. But in the three years he’d worked with Logan, Alec had come to trust the man—a little.

  “Lilliana Hancock,” Alec said grimly.

  Logan’s eyes flared before they squeezed tight. He shook his head. “Aw hell…”

  “What?”

  Logan sat forward in his chair, both elbows on his desk and looked over his shoulder. The kids were due any minute. “Lilliana called Jessie in a panic yesterday. Did you maybe forget something? Starts with a C? And, I’m not talking C for cookie.” Logan waggled his eyebrows.

  “A condom?” Not only had a condom not crossed his mind, but he hadn’t even considered pulling out. In fact, given the option he’d have stayed inside of her the rest of the afternoon.

  “Bingo.”

  “I didn’t go over there expecting … It happened so fast—”

  Logan laughed. “Not exactly a ringing endorsement of your skills in the sack, dude. Maybe that’s why she was so upset.”

  “Ha-ha. Very funny. I assumed she’d be on something.” The door opened and boys poured through, their energy crackling the air. “I’m an idiot.”

  “You said it, not me.” Logan got up and grabbed a clipboard, but stopped to jab a finger into Alec’s shoulder, his demeanor suddenly serious and slightly intimidating. “Listen, Lilliana has been a good friend to me and Jessie. Don’t be a dick.”

  Alec could hear an unspoken threat hanging in the air. Logan got the team warmed up, then doled out the strength-training exercises. Alec should have been preparing the workout for his quarterbacks. Instead, he stared out the window. Leaves danced on the branches of the tree, a few making the jump to the ground where they would wither into brown husks.

  Lilliana was the last woman he should have been messing around with. Yes, she was freaking gorgeous, but he’d sworn off wild women after Philly. She was the prodigal daughter returned from New York City. A bohemian artist.

  Yet, was she? She could certainly be brash, but she hadn’t tried to fit in with Falcon’s typical demographic of women. She didn’t dres
s high-society, even though she had the name to rule such circles. She wasn’t one of the bleacher babes who giggled in the stands during practice. She didn’t hang out at any of the local bars or date around from what he’d heard.

  Her portrait of the old woman had startled him. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected, something new age and abstract, something he didn’t understand. The woman she’d drawn was a stranger, yet he recognized her. The longer he’d stared, the tighter his insides had twisted.

  He’d been so caught up in her touch, reality had ceased to exist. His need had been intense, and she’d seemed as desperate. His groin tightened at the memory. His extreme horniness had led to a stupid, teenagelike mistake.

  “’Sup, dude.” Hunter Galloway, the Falcon’s star quarterback, strutted toward him. His pants sagged halfway down his butt, but his blue Falcon golf shirt and closely cropped afro were more preppy than street.

  “Pull your pants up. And, I’m not your ‘dude,’ I’m your coach.”

  Hunter laughed, a shadow of boyhood innocence still there, as he hiked his pants up and tightened his belt. “It’s the style, Coach.”

  “Do girls actually go for that look? Go dress out and get ready to work.”

  Hunter jogged toward the locker room. The boy had grown a good five inches since the previous season and added thirty pounds of muscle. At six-three, he was still too skinny, but that would change soon enough if he kept lifting.

  He was good. Really good. More top schools came sniffing around with each game they’d won. He already had two offers from lesser-tier schools, but Alec urged him to wait. The big dogs circled, and one would bite. Especially if they made it to the state playoffs.

  Alec tried to put Lilliana out of his head, but his gaze swept over the bleachers, on the hunt for a long dark ponytail on his jog toward the practice field. Nothing. He pushed the illogical disappointment away.

  His two backup quarterbacks threw the ball back and forth, ribbing each other. The underclassmen weren’t ready to lead the program, but Alec’s job was to get them ready. Every coach and quarterback feared the kind of injury Alec incurred. A backup might warm the bench one play and be called to action the next.

  He spent time with the youngsters, drilling curl routes, tosses, and handoffs. Then, he dismissed them to work with the wide receivers while he concentrated on Hunter. Alec drew a couple of new plays on a whiteboard, which Hunter picked up quickly.

  “Did you watch the film?” Alec asked. “Did you notice their blitzing strategy?”

  “Didn’t have the time.”

  “Did you have a test to study for, lots of homework?”

  Coach Dalton had high expectations for the kids’ grades, and Alec respected that. But he also expected Hunter to study film on his off time, when he wasn’t studying calculus. The extra work served a two-fold purpose, keeping Hunter busy and out of trouble and making him a better quarterback and leader.

  “Nah, not really.” Hunter looked off toward the parking lot for the umpteenth time.

  The frustration and anger brewing about the situation with Lilliana oozed into his voice. “You got somewhere else to be?”

  Hunter’s focus shot back toward Alec. “No sir.”

  For the rest of practice, Alec rode Hunter hard, getting in his face when he forgot the route or overthrew his receivers, yanking him aside when he bobbled a good snap and fumbled. When Robbie Dalton blew the whistle, Hunter was the first one into the practice pavilion to hit the showers.

  Logan joined Alec on the walk back. “Kind of tough on Hunter today.”

  “He blew off the videos and was distracted all practice.”

  Logan nodded. “Maybe so, but I have the feeling your personal issues made their way onto the field. You don’t know what he’s got going on at home. Cut him some slack.”

  Alec stopped and grabbed Logan’s arm before they entered the pavilion. “You know something I don’t?”

  “I heard-tell things are heating up in Mill Town. Cops might let small amounts of pot and alcohol slide, but not meth. Will Galloway’s name is on lots of people’s lips. Hunter’s a good kid, but he’ll try to protect his brother. Think about that.” Logan jogged ahead, leaving Alec outside.

  Alec sighed and leaned against the gray cement wall. His job was to condition Hunter’s body and mind for games. That’s it. He’d done his best to ignore the rumors about Hunter’s twin brother, but apparently, they were getting louder and more ominous. Still, Alec only held sway on the football field. It wasn’t his place to get involved, yet guilt niggled at his conscience.

  A jacked-up car with oversized tires and shiny rims pulled up, booming a deep bass rhythm. Hunter came out of the side door, a backpack slung over one shoulder. He tugged his pants to ride low on his hips on the way to the car, his walk turning into a swagger. The passenger-side window lowered. Alec tucked himself as far into the wall as he could manage.

  The bass line and distance kept Alec from hearing what was said, but Hunter’s body language changed the longer they talked. His affected slouch turned defensive, his feet shuffling apart, giving the appearance of fight or flight. A tingle of warning heated the back of Alec’s neck like an electrical shock, and he pushed off the wall and into sight.

  A hand extended out of the lowered window to point in Alec’s direction, and Hunter looked over his shoulder, their gazes clashing. Alec wasn’t getting involved, he just wanted to make sure Hunter was okay after the rough practice. Taking a deep breath, he approached.

  The engine revved, and the car shot away from the curb, tires squealing on the turn out of the parking lot. Alec held Hunter’s gaze over the distance. Before he got close enough to engage Hunter, the boy turned away and jogged toward a beat-up Toyota with rusted-out panels sitting at the far end of the parking lot. He was gone before Alec made it halfway across.

  Responsibility tugged at him. Getting involved in Hunter’s complicated home life ranked down with having a kid with a one-night stand. Reality was that the distant cold-hearted image he’d worked hard to cultivate the past few years was a smoke-show.

  Jogging back into the pavilion, he grabbed a shower and debated his next move. He had no idea where in Mill Town Hunter lived or how to help him. But Lilliana’s house was only a stone’s throw from the school. What could he offer her?

  Apologies? Reassurances that he wasn’t the asshole she’d accused him of being? Old lessons from his mother surfaced. In the south, births, deaths, thank-yous, and apologies all involved food. Maybe he could start by offering her dinner. Maybe she would slam the door in his face. Maybe she wouldn’t. He wasn’t sure which scenario made the nerves bounce higher in his stomach.

  Chapter 4

  The doorbell dragged Lilliana off the couch. She prayed Jessica had decided to come home from Birmingham early. The new Falcon Foods restaurant was set to open in two weeks, and Jessica was slammed with work, but Lilliana could definitely use a friendly ear and a distraction from counting the cracks in the ceiling.

  She checked out the side window, took a sharp breath, and dropped the old-fashioned lacy curtain back in place. Alec Grayson’s broad back and amazing butt were on her porch. What was he doing here? Considering she’d called him an asshole yesterday, she assumed this was not a booty call.

  He turned back to the door and rang the bell again. Even though she’d been expecting it, the three descending tones startled her a few steps back. They echoed through the open foyer before a heavy silence smothered her. As discreetly as possible, she looked through the side window again.

  “I can see you, Lilliana. Open up.”

  She jumped again, her nerves shot to hell after three nights of restless sleep. And, was that amusement in his voice? Tendrils of anger turned her panic to ash. “Are you here to finish the inspection?”

  “No.”

  “Then go away.”

  “I hoped we could talk.”

  She heard a rustle and checked the window again. He held two bags, one with the local Chine
se take-away logo and a blue Walmart bag. He jiggled the food bag. “I brought your favorite … beef lo mein.”

  Dammit, that was her favorite. How did he know that?

  “And spring rolls,” he added in a cajoling tone.

  On cue, her stomach growled. She unlocked the door and gestured him through. “Fine. Only because you brought food. And how did you know what to order?”

  “The guy taking orders called you ‘my Lilliana’ about five times.”

  Lilliana grabbed the bag and walked into the kitchen. He could follow or leave for all she cared.

  “Are you two dating or something?”

  She whirled. “I am offended on so many levels, I don’t know where to start. Firstly, he’s all of nineteen years old. I’m not into corrupting America’s youth. And, seriously, you and I had sex three and half days ago. Would I do that if I were involved with someone else?”

  His forehead smoothed and his gaze skated off to the side. “Women cheat all the time,” he said in an emotion-roughened voice.

  Someone had cheated on him. The flash of insight doused her outrage, leaving her with an awkward river to traverse. “I wouldn’t ever cheat. Believe it or not, I haven’t—” No way could she admit she hadn’t had a date much less sex since she’d moved back to Falcon three years ago. It would be too pathetic. “—been dating anyone lately.”

  “Is that why you didn’t mention you weren’t protected?”

  Even though there was no blame in his voice, her shoulders hunched forward and she backed around the granite counter, her voice hitching. “It’s not like you offered up a condom or bothered to ask.”

  Alec’s eyes closed briefly and he shook his head before stepping forward, the barlike counter between them. “Look, I didn’t mean that to sound like this is your fault. I’m equally to blame.”

  “That’s big of you.” Her Freudian slip registered a split-second after the words were out. She couldn’t stop her gaze from dropping to his crotch before skittering off to the side.