by Marie Force
He returned with a hand towel that he used to mop up the mess he’d made of her chest and abdomen. His gaze shifted to her face, and their eyes met and held, the connection between them crackling and electric. Leaning forward, he kissed her. “That,” he said, “was crazy.”
Mary smiled and nodded, letting her gaze travel over his naked body. Even after twenty-four hours in bed with him, she hadn’t gotten tired of looking at him. Apparently, he hadn’t gotten tired of looking at her either. He stared at her with a look of stunned amazement that had to match hers.
She reached for him, and he crawled into her embrace, burying his face in her hair and breathing her in. It made her feel better that he seemed equally undone by their lovemaking. For the longest time, they held each other close and breathed the same air, the aftermath as intimate as the lovemaking.
“What’re we going to do about this situation?” he asked after a long, comfortable silence.
“I have no idea.”
“How am I ever going to let you leave me tomorrow?”
“I don’t know that either.” The thought of leaving him made her feel queasy and unsettled, so she tried not to think about that. Not now, when they had all night and most of tomorrow before they had to deal with leaving each other.
“Are you sure you can’t come to the Orient with me?”
She had the vacation time, and he said he could get her a passport, and God, she wanted to go. But she couldn’t just drop everything for two weeks with hardly any notice. She had responsibilities and obligations that couldn’t be shirked because it would be fun to run away with him. “I’m sure. I can’t leave work without giving Linc some notice that I’ll be gone, especially this time of year when the holiday season is getting underway. He and Molly are going to England soon, so I really can’t be gone at the same time he is. And I have other things, too.”
“Tell me about your other things.” As he spoke, he ran his fingers through her hair. “I want to know everything.”
“I help out at my church and a local soup kitchen, and I’m hosting book club next week. Then there’s Mildred, the oldest employee at the store. We all help with whatever she needs. I drive her to church on Sundays and bring her dinner once or twice a week.”
“Who’s driving her tomorrow?”
“Charley Abbott. She does Mildred’s grocery shopping, so I asked if she’d mind taking her to church. Charley isn’t much of a churchgoer, but she said she’d do it for Mildred.” Mary glanced at him. “It all must sound so terribly boring to you.”
“No, it sounds lovely, actually. You take care of each other, look out for one another. It must be nice to be part of such a community.”
“It is. I can’t imagine any other kind of life.”
“Could you imagine…”
“What?”
“I thought better of what I was going to say.”
“That’s not fair.” She poked his shoulder playfully. “Now I need to know.”
“I was going to ask,” he said tentatively, “if you might be able to picture yourself in a Park Avenue penthouse.”
Mary’s heart skipped a crazy beat as his meaning registered with her. “Ummm, since I’ve never been anywhere near Park Avenue, it would be very difficult to picture myself there.”
“We’ll have to rectify that very soon. I want you to come see my world. Do you think we might be able to make that happen?”
Mary nodded, even though she wondered if she would stick out as the small-town girl she was in his world.
“Stop frowning,” he said, even though he couldn’t see her face.
“I’m not frowning!”
“Yes, you are. You’re thinking about why you shouldn’t come to New York or be here with me or the million and one reasons why this is never going to work out between us.”
“I am not. Quit acting like you know me so well. It’s annoying.”
His body shook with silent laughter.
Mary tried to pull herself free of him, but he tightened his hold on her.
“Stop,” he said. “I’m only teasing you, and the reason why you’re getting mad is because you know I’m right.”
“I knew you had to be too good to be true.”
“Mary, sweetheart, look at me.”
She looked down at him looking up at her, too handsome for his own good—or hers. “What?”
“I love you.”
If she’d been electrocuted, she wouldn’t have been any more shocked than she was to hear those three little words from him. “You… No.” She shook her head. “Don’t say that if you don’t mean—”
“I mean it. I love you. I love every single thing about you. I love talking to you, laughing with you, poking fun at you—and having you do the same to me. I love your sweetness and your devotion to your community. I love your beautiful face and your soft hair and your sexy body and the absolute magic of making love to you. And more than anything else, I love that I can be completely myself with you. I love you, Mary Larkin, my Sweet Mary from Vermont.”
As she listened to him, tears ran unchecked down her face. “You…”
“Love you. I, Patrick Murphy, love you, Mary Larkin.” He raised his hand to her face, brushed away her tears with his thumb and brought her down for a kiss.
“Wait. Stop. I need to blow my nose!”
But he didn’t stop. Rather, he kissed her so passionately, she forgot that she needed to blow her nose. Who could think of such mundane things when Patrick Murphy was kissing her after declaring his love for her with such amazing, romantic words?
“Patrick,” she said on a sigh when they finally came up for air.
“Hmm?” He kissed her neck and ran his tongue over the outline of her ear, making her shiver from the desire that beat through her like a live wire.
“I…” Her throat closed around a lump of emotion that made it impossible to speak. She loved him, too. Of course she did. She’d been slowly falling for him since the day she met him, and this weekend had pushed her right over the line from maybe to definitely. So why couldn’t she say so?
“Relax, sweetheart. Just relax and let me love you.”
Mary dropped back into the pile of pillows and tried to shut off her whirling mind so she could focus on his soft kisses, his endlessly appealing scent and the overwhelming news that he loved her.
Sunday afternoon arrived far too soon. As the day had progressed, Patrick became more desperate to prolong their time together, knowing he wouldn’t see her again for a couple of weeks, if not longer. After the weekend they had spent together, it felt like pure torture to know he’d have to go so long without seeing her, touching her, kissing her or making love to her.
She came out of the bathroom, dressed in jeans and a ski sweater that looked lovely on her, but it would look far better on the floor.
He felt like a petulant child who’d been told he couldn’t play with his favorite toy for the next few weeks. Even his analogy was petulant.
Mary sat on the bed next to him. “You look like you’ve lost your best friend.”
“She’s about to leave me here all by myself.”
She smiled at the face he made. “Poor baby. What time are you leaving?”
“I’m flying from Burlington to Tokyo first thing in the morning. Are you sure you don’t want to stay tonight? I’d get you home in time for work.” He’d been trying since last night to talk her into spending tonight, too, but she continued to decline.
“I have to get ready for the week and get some real sleep, or I’m going to be a mess tomorrow.”
“You could never be a mess.”
“Yes,” she said, laughing, “I can and I will if I stay up all night with you again, which we would do if I stay.” She leaned in to kiss his cheek and then his lips. “You need to get some sleep, too. You have a big week of travel and meetings.”
“I want to cancel all of it,” he said, even though he couldn’t.
“I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be right here wa
iting for you to get back.”
“You are going somewhere that’s hours from where I’m going to be, and that makes me very, very cranky.”
“Will I still talk to you every day?”
“Absolutely. I’ll call you either first thing or last thing your time. I’ll try not to wake you.”
“Don’t worry about that. I’ll be waiting for you to call.”
He sat up and wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight against him. “Best weekend ever.”
“It was for me, too. Are you going to walk me out?”
“If you insist on leaving me.”
“I do. I insist, and you need to put some pants on.”
He let her go reluctantly and got out of bed to find the jeans that’d been discarded on the floor last night. Or was it the night before? As he pulled them on, he turned to find her watching him, her eyes glittering with desire and appreciation that were an instant turn-on. “Don’t look at me like that and then leave me.”
“How am I looking at you?”
“Like you want more.”
“If I have any more, I’ll need to be hospitalized.”
Patrick smiled at her witty reply. His body ached in places that hadn’t ached in years. Decades. It felt good. Hell, it felt amazing. He pulled on a shirt and picked up her bag to take it downstairs even as everything in him railed at the idea of her leaving. After waiting so long to find her, the fear of losing her made him feel panicky. The last time he’d felt that level of panic was when the doctors told him Ali might not survive after childbirth. Suffice to say, it wasn’t a feeling he welcomed.
He forced himself to take deep breaths, to calm the fuck down and not show her how undone he was by her looming departure. She worried about him losing interest, but he was afraid of driving her away by wanting her too much.
Mary went into the kitchen for a glass of water. “I put the sheets and towels in the dryer. Don’t forget to take them out.” Over her glass, she studied him with an amused light in her eyes. “You do know how to make a bed, don’t you?”
“Yes, I know how.”
“Oh good. And you remember how to fold towels?”
He went over to her, unable to stay away even when she was teasing him. Taking the glass from her and placing it on the counter, he said, “Let me give that fresh mouth something else to do besides make fun of me.”
She was still laughing when he kissed her, pouring all the love he felt for her into a kiss that he hoped would sustain them both until he could see her again.
He kept one arm wrapped tightly around her and buried the other hand in her thick, silky hair, wanting to keep her anchored to him forever.
The doorbell rang, and he swore as he drew back from the kiss.
“That’ll be my ride.”
He hugged her, buried his face in her hair and breathed her in. “Don’t go.”
“You’ll be back before you miss me.”
“No, I won’t. I already miss you, and you haven’t left yet.”
“I have to go.”
“I know,” he said, but he only held her tighter.
“Patrick…”
With tremendous reluctance, he withdrew from her.
She patted his face. “Thank you for such a wonderful weekend. I’ll never forget it.”
“Neither will I. It was perfect. You made it perfect.”
“We made it perfect.”
He nodded because he was too emotional to speak. When was the last time he’d been so undone? Probably when he gave Cam away at her wedding. Patrick helped Mary into her coat and opened the door to greet the driver, who was annoyingly punctual.
“Afternoon, Mr. Murphy, Ms. Larkin,” Bob said. “I trust you had a nice weekend.”
“We did,” Mary said, her gaze fixed on Patrick. “A very nice weekend.”
“Excellent.” He took Mary’s bag from Patrick. “I’ll wait for you at the car. Take your time.”
“If I took my time,” Patrick said under his breath, “he’d be waiting all night to take you away from me.”
“You’re very cute when you’re pouting.”
“I’m not pouting.”
“You’re pouting, but that’s okay. It’s nice to know that you don’t want me to go.”
“I do not want you to go. If I had my way…”
“What?”
He shook his head. “Too much. Too soon.”
“Say it anyway.”
“If I had my way, I’d keep you forever.”
She drew in a sharp deep breath and released it slowly.
“I told you—too much, too soon.”
Mary shook her head. “No, it’s not. It’s a lovely thought, and we’ll have to see what happens, won’t we?”
“We will indeed.” At least she hadn’t said no. He took comfort in that as he put his arm around her to walk her out to the car. After settling her in the backseat, Patrick leaned in so she could hear him. “I’ll call you later.”
“I’ll be waiting.” He kissed her one more time and then forced himself to stand, to close the door and to wave as they drove off. For a long time after the car was out of sight, Patrick stood in the driveway, oblivious to the cold air coming from the lake or the encroaching darkness.
Chapter 6
“Keep love in your heart.
A life without it is like a sunless garden when the flowers are all dead.”
—Oscar Wilde
Back in the house, Patrick went straight upstairs to his cell phone. He found his assistant, Maggie, who was number three on his list of favorites, after Cameron and Mary, and placed a call, not caring one iota that it was Sunday night or that he tried not to bother his hardworking employee on the weekends.
“Hi, Patrick,” Maggie said. “How was the weekend in Vermont?”
He hadn’t told anyone why he was coming to Vermont, even his faithful assistant, who was also one of his closest friends after so many years of working closely together. “It was great. I need to make some changes to the itinerary for the trip.”
“Um, okay… What kind of changes?”
“I want to be home in ten days rather than fourteen.”
“Patrick… You know as well as I do that’ll be almost impossible.”
“Almost impossible is not impossible. Will you see what you can do to shorten it up?”
“I’ll take care of it,” she said with a long-suffering sigh. By now she was certainly used to the never-ending challenges that went with working for him, and he paid her an exorbitant salary to ensure that she’d never leave him.
“You’re the best, Mags.”
“Anything for you, Patrick. Have a safe trip, and I’ll be in touch.”
“Thanks.”
Knowing he could see Mary again in ten days rather than fourteen went a long way toward making him feel better about her leaving. He went downstairs and poured himself a glass of Linc’s best bourbon and took it to the window that overlooked the lake. It was so pretty here. He could see why Linc and his family loved it so much.
As he stared out the window, another thought came to him, making him smile as he considered the idea from every angle. Then he went back upstairs, taking them two at a time, so he could call Cameron. She answered on the second ring, sounding out of breath. He sure as hell hoped he wasn’t interrupting anything between the newlyweds.
“Hi, Dad. We just got home from skiing, and I got your email. I was going to call you tonight.”
The sound of her voice made him happy—and if she was skiing, there was no way she was pregnant. Mary was right—he had to tell Cam sooner rather than later about her family history when it came to childbirth. “You had a good time skiing?”
“It was great. Will said there’s hope for me yet. I say there’s hope as long as I stick to the bunny slopes.”
Patrick sat on the unmade bed and listened to her tell him about being the only student Will had ever failed to teach to ski.
“He doesn’t give up, though,” Cameron conc
luded. “Even with defeat staring him in the face.”
“Your mom was a terrible skier, too.”
“She was?” Cameron asked in a small voice that made him feel bad that he’d never told her that before.
“Yeah, I took her a couple of times, but she couldn’t get the hang of it.”
“Will!” Cameron called. “It’s in my DNA! My mother couldn’t ski either. It’s not my fault!”
In the background, Patrick heard the deep rumble of his son-in-law’s voice and then the delicate sound of his daughter’s laughter. “He says that’s no excuse and he’s going to teach me if it takes the rest of our lives. If he wants to waste his time, I can’t stop him!”
“You two are funny.”
“What’s up with you?”
He felt guilty for not telling her he was in Vermont, but this weekend had been for him and Mary, and he suspected Cameron would approve. She’d been hoping he’d find someone new to love since she was old enough to understand what he’d lost when her mother died. “Getting ready to leave on my trip in the morning.”
“Oh, that’s right. Back to Asia. How long this time?”
“A couple of weeks. I’ll let you know.” He didn’t say anything about shortening his time overseas, because he wanted to surprise Mary by coming home early.
“Did you get the invite to Hunter and Megan’s wedding?”
“I did, and it’s on the calendar.”
“Excellent. You’ll stay for Christmas, too, right?”
“Wouldn’t miss it.” He’d missed too much with his daughter in the past and appreciated that she held him close regardless of his failings. She was the greatest blessing of his life, and he adored her.
“Oh good! We’ll have so much fun.”
“I’m looking forward to it.” Christmas in Vermont had never sounded as good to him as it did this year, because he’d get to spend the holiday with the people he loved best. “I won’t keep you. I’m sure you must be tired after all that skiing.”
