by Lydia Rowan
His doorbell rang and Matt went to answer it, surprised when he saw his father standing on the steps.
“Dad?” Matt said.
“Mathias, can I come in?”
“Of course,” Matt said, standing aside.
His father entered and looked around. “You did an amazing job with the place. Your mother would be so happy.”
Matt said nothing and just watched as his father moved through the foyer and on to the kitchen, eyes misting, though no tears fell.
“She would have loved this,” his father said, running a hand across the smooth quartz countertop. Then his gaze turned to the French doors and into the backyard.
“May I?”
“Of course. You want something to drink?”
His father nodded and then went to open the doors, and out of the corner of his eye, Matt watched as the old man drifted outside. He soon joined him but didn’t say anything as his father floated through the space.
“She would have loved all of this,” he repeated as he sat at the patio table.
“Is everything okay, Dad?” Matt asked. His father hadn’t been back to the house since Matt had bought it, so this visit was unexpected to say the least.
“No…I just wanted to apologize. For the cemetery.”
Matt looked up sharply.
“It’s just hard, and I got overwhelmed.”
“I know it hurts, Dad.”
“It does, but you don’t deserve that. Never did. I’m sorry, son.”
They’d had this conversation a thousand times before, and though Matt often felt resentment, it was absent today. He couldn’t find it in his heart to be angry with his father, not when he looked so broken and so remorseful.
“Have you thought about talking to someone like I suggested?”
His father looked away. “I know I have to move on, but I don’t know, it feels like I’m going to forget her.”
“Dad, you loved her, but she’s gone. And just because you aren’t living in grief doesn’t mean you’ve forgotten her. We’ll never forget her.”
“I know…maybe.”
“I can give you some names,” Matt offered.
“Maybe,” his father said.
He wasn’t relenting and agreeing to go to grief counseling, but it was something.
“I’m proud of you.”
“Why?”
“Because you did what I couldn’t. You’ve honored her in a way I never have, doing all this,” he said, waving his hand around.
“It’s not all bad, you know. I feel closer to her here, and it helps me remember the good times and not the pain.”
“The good times…” his father said, looking wistful. “I should think about those more.”
“We both should,” Matt said.
••••
His dad stuck around for a couple of hours, and they had a nice time, his father almost reminding him of the man he’d been when Matt was younger. But when he left, Matt felt at loose ends, and he knew why. A certain mechanic had burrowed her way into his mind, and he wasn’t quite sure how to get her out.
This wasn’t like him. Matt enjoyed dating and the occasional distraction, but no one had ever touched his heart, and he doubted anyone ever could. He’d run the odds, seen firsthand how things went—or didn’t go—and decided the chances of a relationship lasting were infinitesimal. So reason dictated he avoid them altogether. But this felt different; she felt different, and he had no idea why. And it occurred to him then that he was thinking of him and Ariel and “relationship” in the same breath. Something he didn’t understand.
But understanding, more accurately, lack thereof, aside, he did know he wanted to see her again, so, moving before he could talk himself out of it, Matt grabbed the phone and dialed.
“Hello?” she said.
“Ariel. Hi. Did I wake you?” he asked, belatedly realizing the hour might be too late.
She laughed, the low, husky sound crossing the phone line and curling around his cock like a caress. “It’s a struggle, but I manage to stay awake until at least eight most nights. Having more car trouble you need a hand with?” she asked.
No, but he did have a hard-on that he could use a hand with. Deciding that answer might not be the best way to begin this conversation, he said, “It was nice, running into you today.”
“It was,” Ariel replied.
After a few moments of silence filled the line, Matt said, “I hope you didn’t mind me carrying Dani. She looked so heartbroken when you said no.”
“She did, didn’t she? But if I fell for that, I’d be her personal Sherpa, so no thanks. But feel free to put your back to the test whenever you’d like.”
Matt huffed out a chuckle. “Ariel, how many times do I need to tell you my back is in perfect working order? You’re going to have to test it out if you don’t want to take my word for it.”
“You keep offering, I’m going to take you up on that,” she said, voice going even more husky.
“How about next Saturday?” he asked.
She laughed again, the sexy, slinky sound making his throbbing erection stiffen further. “You’re serious?”
“Well, maybe not about that, but I would love if we could get together again. And you’re welcome to bring Dani, too,” he added hastily.
“And if I don’t want to bring Dani?” she asked. Then she quickly said, “I can’t believe I said that.”
“Why?”
“What are we doing, Matt?” she asked, voice serious all of a sudden.
“I don’t know,” he said. “But I want to spend time with you, and I think you feel the same.”
She exhaled, and Matt could hear her internal struggle. “I shouldn’t do this,” she said.
“No pressure, Ariel.”
“But I will,” she said.
Matt wanted to give a victory yell, but managed to swallow it.
“Great,” he said instead.
“So I’ll bring the food and you’ll supply the place?” Ariel asked.
“Yes. Saturday?” he asked.
“Saturday it is,” she said, and Matt would swear that she sounded as excited as he felt.
Chapter Six
Over the days between Matt’s call and Saturday, Ariel had decided to cancel the date countless times but couldn’t bring herself to do it. And by the time Saturday rolled around, Ariel had given up the fight. If she was going to go through with it, and it seemed she was, she might as well enjoy it.
She had gone easy and settled on salad and grilled chicken breasts. If only her wardrobe was that simple. Ariel wanted to stick to her casual vibe but look nice and available without being too formal or too available. Problem was, though her closet was full, the variety of jeans, khakis, and coveralls didn’t quite hit the mark.
The urge to call Blakely to get advice, or Mandy to gossip with, was strong, but Ariel resisted. First, she wasn’t exactly sure what she’d say, and second, she refused to act like a giddy teenager giggling with her friends over a date. She was a grown woman for goodness’s sake; she could pick out her own clothes. Resolved, she decided on a pair of dark wash jeans and a black V-neck T-shirt. Not exactly attire that would have him falling at her feet to worship at the altar of her beauty, but she’d do. One last look and she was on her way.
••••
Matt deliberately slowed his pace as he hurried to the front door after Ariel rang the doorbell. He couldn’t have her knowing he’d been waiting for what felt like hours, turning his ear toward every car that had passed silently, hoping it was her. And now that she was here, he was almost giddy with excitement, something he didn’t think he’d have been able to claim in a decade and a half.
When he opened the door, her face was slightly turned away, the impending dusk giving her skin a luminous glow. Her hair was unrestrained, wild curls blowing in the slight breeze. He glanced down and tried not to let his gaze snag on the intriguing V of her T-shirt, or the large breasts underneath, and then tried not to let it s
nag on the fullness of her hips.
“Ariel, come in,” he said, reaching for the bag she held and then quickly stepping aside.
She flashed a quick smile. “Thanks. And I forgot to ask about dress code, but it looks like we were on the same page,” she said, gesturing toward his own jeans and T-shirt.
“Yeah, I try to keep it casual,” he said as he led her into the kitchen. “Please have a seat.”
“I also didn’t ask what you like to eat, so I hope salad and grilled chicken is okay,” she said.
“Perfect. You mind if we sit outside? It should be cool enough.”
She shook her head. “Nope. I love it out there.”
“If you’ll grab the wine, I’ll take this,” he said, and together, they went to the patio.
“You should open your own shop. You’d make a killing,” he said around bites of chicken once they’d been seated.
She took a bite of her own and then leaned back, face turning introspective.
“I had one back in Charlotte, but when I moved here, I was focusing on settling in, and then after… Dani needed me, still does, and I can’t build the business because she’s still young. Maybe as she gets older, I’ll think about it, but for now I’m happy where I am. I have pretty flexible hours and the money’s good enough, so it works.”
“How did you become a mechanic anyway?”
Ariel laughed, and the smile on her face almost took Matt’s breath away and set his heart to gallop. It was a dangerous thing, that smile.
“I was lucky. I went to one of the last high schools that had hands-on classes like body shop. I had a bit of an affinity for it and showed some aptitude, so that was it. Of course, I’ve had to learn more about computers than I ever wanted to.”
“Why?”
“I sound like a grumpy old man, but these new cars are loaded with computers. Now, most mechanics spend most of their time reading what the machine tells them is wrong and then adjusting this sensor or that. Not as much fun as getting under the hood and playing around but a necessity in these times we live in. I still like to think I know a little bit better than the machine, so I have a little competition to see who’s right more often.”
“And…?”
“The machine usually kicks my ass, but there’s time yet,” she said.
“I’m in awe. What?” he said when he saw her trying to bite back another smile.
“You’re a SEAL, right?” Ariel asked.
“No longer active, but yeah,” he responded.
“So you’re the best of the best, right? Modern warrior, leap tall buildings, etc.”
“Sure, I can do all that,” he said, not bothering to try and hide what he knew was a cocky smile.
“But you can’t change a tire?”
“‘Can’t’ is such a limiting word…” He trailed off and barked out a laugh at her skeptical expression. “And no, I can’t, a fact that I’ve taken a tsunami of shit for over the years”—he paused to smile at her—“but nobody’s perfect.”
“Nope, and I assume you have other talents,” she said, voice dropping ever so slightly.
“I do,” he said, his own voice lowering.
Ariel flushed and looked away guiltily. “I swear I don’t always go around dropping sexual innuendo at every turn,” she said.
“Have I done anything that suggests I mind?” Matt said, lifting a brow in question.
“Nope,” she said and then took a swallow of wine.
••••
“Thanks again for inviting me over,” Ariel said later as they drifted toward the door after they’d finished dinner and chatted for what felt like hours.
“And thanks for coming,” Matt replied.
“My pleasure.”
Matt was now standing close, closer to her than she could ever remember him being. She was awed by the size and strength of his body, how feminine and desirable his closeness made her feel. She licked her lips and then immediately chided herself for the silly, girlish move. But the chiding stopped, everything stopped, when he moved forward and pressed his lips against hers. It was a gentle kiss, not a mandate or a demand, but she could feel the power he kept leashed inside.
He trailed his lips across hers, planting soft kisses along the expanse of Ariel’s mouth. For a moment, she stood still but when she felt Matt’s exhaled breath, saw the way he tightened his hands around her upper arms, it let her know she hadn’t been alone. That he’d felt it too. Then he kissed her harder before he swept his tongue inside.
Ariel whimpered but then grabbed his shoulders and squeezed, telling him, and herself, how much she wanted this. Her message was received for soon he was kissing her deeply, passionately stroking every inch of her mouth with his heavy, wet kisses, and Ariel imagined how it would feel when he kissed the rest of her.
She would have stood there and let him kiss her all night, but lack of air forced her to pull back. As she sucked in deep, gulping breaths, she stared at Matt, his eyes alight with a passion that was also reflected in the hard pulse of his erection against her stomach.
“Do you want this, Ariel?” Matt asked, his voice low, gravelly with an edge of need.
“I do…”
She glanced away, but he cupped his hand against her cheek and turned her to face him again. “What?”
She took a deep breath and then met his eyes, heat spreading through her when she saw how hazy with passion they were.
“It’s been a long time… I may have forgotten how this is done,” she said and then she added a little laugh. It was a silly thing to say, but something compelled her to be honest with him, tell him where she stood.
“It’ll come back to you. And I’ll help.”
He said the last with a little lift of his mouth, but then any humor faded and only the passion remained. Ariel basked in Matt’s kiss, basked in the way his calm precision seemed only to underscore his desire for her. She returned the kiss, but she was not as controlled as he. She needed him, needed this and had no qualms about showing him how much.
She found herself pressed against the kitchen wall, and when Matt moved away, taking his heat and the intoxicating weight of his muscled body, she started to protest. The protest was short-lived for when she opened her eyes, he stood before her, strong, calm, but the riot of emotion in his eyes promising her a passion she wouldn’t ever forget. She reached out to seize it, lifted her hand to him, and when he entwined his strong fingers with hers, her stomach flipped and her knees went shaky.
Wordlessly, Matt led her up his beautifully carved, dark wood staircase and down an equally beautiful hall. What she’d seen of his home so far was breathtaking, but not nearly as much as the man who led her. She’d only shared herself with one other person, and though she had known where this was headed before she’d arrived, nerves had still fluttered in her belly.
But she wasn’t nervous now. Whatever happened in the future, whatever had happened in the past, this moment, what she and Matt had in this moment, was so right, so perfect, she had no doubts.
After they entered the bedroom at the end of the hall, she looked around quickly, noting how masculine and tasteful and Matt-like the room seemed. But the thought scattered when he recaptured her lips and laid his hands on her ass, his touch bold, encompassing as if touching her so intimately was the most natural thing in the world. Though she couldn’t quite match his ease, she touched him as well, slipping her hands under his shirt and moaning out at the contact, his muscle and hot skin as strong under her hands as it had looked to her eye.
When she dropped her hands and moved them forward, first over the tight ridges of his stomach and then across the front of his pants, he stilled and then tightened his hands on her ass, eyes drifting closed. Once he moved again, she did as well, teasing and testing his turgid flesh, and the way the fabric of his pants buffered her touch only made her more anxious. Even through his clothing, he was thick, hot, and Ariel squirmed with the rising anticipation of revealing all of him.
She’d
been so distracted by her own exploration, she hadn’t noticed him moving his hands, so she jumped with surprise when, with a surprising deftness, he popped her bra open. Then he stroked his hands down her bare back, and she shivered. As he lifted the hem of her shirt, she reluctantly broke contact and lifted her arms, the regret at no longer touching him taken over by the excitement of him touching her, of his hands against her skin.
He tossed her shirt and bra aside and stared down at her through heavy-lidded eyes. For a moment, she wondered if he was disappointed by her body, the one that had always been bigger than acceptable and that now bore the effects of pregnancy. But when his eyes darkened and went deep with a lust that was almost tangible, there was no room for doubt.
And she wouldn’t have been capable of it anyway when he skimmed his hands up her sides and then grasped her breasts, his hands the perfect roughness to make her crave more. He massaged her breasts and stroked her nipples in just the way she liked, as if he’d somehow been privy to her desires before today. And she was grateful, her body buzzing, her head lighting up with the intensity of the sensation.
His shirt under her palms reminded her that he was still clothed, something she planned to change. With a feat of will, she put some distance between them, ignoring the way her body protested his absence, and worked at his shirt. Much as he had done, she tossed it away and took Matt in, letting her gaze roam his powerful chest and arms and then following the path with her hands.
He let her touch him to her heart’s content as he worked to rid her of pants, but she froze when he cupped her sex in his big hand, that rough palm against her tender lower lips almost enough to send her to climax. He lifted, hand pressing tighter against her and she stepped back. It was too much—too soon—she wanted to make this last, see all of him before she lost her senses.
She worked at his pants, the snick of his zipper as it lowered ringing loud in the room and sending Ariel’s already heated blood to another level. The outline of his cock was clear through his boxers, and the sight of it was enough to push Ariel to continue, so she peeled them down, eyes glued to him as he was exposed to her hungry gaze.
