by Carol Henry
Not good.
He opened the door and lifted her out of the car seat. Juelle put Makenzie’s diaper bag and the blanket in the seat and lifted it out of the car, and then followed Hunter onto the front porch.
“We can go through the house again before we eat. Leave everything here, I’ll get it later. Where do you want to start?”
Juelle pulled the key from her slacks pocket and unlocked the door.
“I feel as if I should be carrying you over the threshold or something.” He chuckled and wiggled his eyebrows.
Juelle’s heartbeat stuttered. “Wrong occasion.”
“Nevertheless, it’s a special occasion.”
“You have Makenzie. That will do.” She held the door open for them, then followed them into the foyer. And stopped and stared. Even though she’d been there before, it was an overwhelming sense of having come home, just knowing it was almost a reality. Almost hers.
“I feel like a kid and want to run through the entire house all at once.”
“I’m sure you’ll have it looking like a real home soon enough. Do you need help with the move?”
“Not much to take with me, thanks. Katelyn and I plan to go furniture shopping after the closing.”
She took Makenzie from him and led the way down the wide hall toward the bedrooms, Makenzie wiggling in her arms. “There’s just Makenzie’s things—crib, dresser, those sort of things. I’m sure Sven will help out.”
They entered one of the bedrooms with lavender walls and white trim. “This will make a perfect nursery for Makenzie. I love the color, and there’s plenty of room for growth. As she gets older I can put a regular bed here and a full size dresser over there.” She put her daughter down on the hardwood floor and walked to the walk-in closet.
“She’s going to love this when she becomes a teenager.” Hunter smiled. “What girl wouldn’t?”
“You’re very forward thinking for a single guy.”
“I have cousins and aunts.”
“What, no girlfriend back home?” Good Lord, had she really spoken her thoughts out loud? It was a good thing he was behind her and couldn’t see the embarrassment she was consumed with at her stupidity.
“No, Juelle. No one at present.” His voice sounded hesitant. “Most of the women I’ve dated were more interested in having a good time on the beaches and not interested in settling down and raising a family. Unless you count the ones who thought owning a travel agency entitled them to free travel with the owner every other week.”
She picked up Makenzie, walked down the hall to the very end, and entered the master bedroom.
“Wow. Spacious. I guess I missed this room during the open house. I hope you’re planning on buying a king size bed to put under those skylights?”
She was in trouble. Visions of her and Hunter entwined in each other’s arms—and legs—in a king sized bed with a starry night sky peeking through the skylight overhead had her entire body on fire. Speechless, she was more than ready to turn around and head back down the hall.
Hunter walked across to a half wall laid up with white Italian tiles that divided the room. “What’s this over here?”
Juelle was stuck in place on the mauve wall-to-wall carpet, images of Hunter and her lying in that imaginary bed still playing out in her mind.
“Look at this. Did you see this on the tour?”
Oh, yes. She’d seen it all right. A walk-in shower, the entire interior covered in white Italian marble, naked goddesses taking center stage in smaller tiles three-quarters of the way up and circling three of the walls. It had been one of the selling points for sure.
“Um, yes. Charming, isn’t it?”
He stepped inside the shower stall. She didn’t have to imagine what he would look like naked—she’d already seen the real deal. She gulped and then turned her back on him and the vision her mind was conjuring up and headed for the hallway. She had to get him out of the bedroom. The house. The State of Maine before she made a fool of herself again. Inviting him to the house had been a colossal mistake.
She switched Makenzie on to her other hip and walked down the hall toward the kitchen. A kitchen should be a neutral, safe place…, well…, maybe not.
Makenzie clutched Tilley in her arms and clung to her neck, bringing Juelle back to Earth and sane thoughts.
“I should make a list of items I’ll need.”
He followed her into the kitchen, his hand now on her shoulder. “Do you have something to write on? I have a pen.”
His touch had her throat going dry. She stepped aside hoping the zing coursing through her entire body hadn’t been noticeable.
“No. I, uh…I’ll do it another time. Let’s go out back. It’s getting late and I need to feed Makenzie.”
Juelle gave the kitchen a cursory look, declared it fabulous, and then headed toward the side door.
“I’ll get the picnic things and Makenzie’s car seat. I’ll meet you in the backyard.”
Juelle stepped out onto a sprawling stone patio with a full awning over top. The area was landscaped with bedding plants in various stages of bloom. She took a deep breath to clear Hunter McClintock from her space and mind and continued to check out the yard. The warm evening air was soothing. She took in the fenced in lawn and the spacious yard was big enough for a swing set for Makenzie. She would have to buy a few lawn chairs and a picnic table. Someone had mowed the lawn for the open house. Juelle kicked off her shoes and stepped onto the grass. She didn’t dare walk on the McClintock Estate’s perfectly manicured lawn. Here, she would be able to do what she wanted without a disapproving eye following her every move.
“Here we go. Where do you want the blanket?”
“Anywhere is fine.”
He proceeded to set the car seat turned carrier on the lawn, flicked the blanket open, and sprawled it out in the middle of the yard. “How’s that? Your magic carpet awaits.”
If only.
Juelle settled Makenzie in her seat and then sat on the blanket. She dug in the diaper bag for her daughter’s dinner, while Hunter opened the paper sack Mrs. Sullivan had prepared for them. He unwrapped the lobster rolls and put them on paper plates, and then opened the Styrofoam containers of coleslaw, and handed her one.
Hunter took a hefty bite out of the lobster rolls. Juelle’s mouth watered, watching him, and it wasn’t for wanting one of Mrs. Sullivan’s specialties. She held her breath, gulped, as Hunter’s lips circled the roll. Her insides squirmed.
She looked away, took a nibble from her own roll, then scooped another spoonful of warmed, mixed vegetable baby food she’d kept in the warming container, and spooned it into Makenzie’s waiting mouth. Concentrating on her daughter grounded her emotions.
“Wasn’t sure what kind of wine you preferred, so I kept it simple. White zinfandel. I hope that’s okay?”
“I’m not an expert. White zinfandel is perfect.”
He pulled out two plastic wine glasses, filled them, and handed her one.
“To your new home.” He offered a toast. She played along as they pretended to clink their plastic stemware together.
“When do you think you’ll be able to move into the house?”
“Not soon enough. Mr. Jordan is expediting the paperwork and closing for me.”
A slight humid breeze rustled the leaves on the three maple trees on the far side of the lawn, casting shadows along the edge. Juelle pulled a small lightweight blanket from the bag and tucked it around Makenzie, exchanging the food for a bottle of warm milk. Her daughter’s eyes drooped. She adjusted the seat so Makenzie could lay back and sleep in comfort.
They continued eating in silence. The bottle Makenzie was holding slipped from her tiny hands and rolled to the blanket. They laughed together. Juelle picked up the empty bottle and put it, and the remainder of her daughter’s meal, back in the bag.
“In regard to my mother’s proposal,” Hunter said. “I called her after the meeting with Mr. Jordan, to let her know Hunt had left her a large a
mount of money. Of course, she refuses to accept it.”
“Why? It’s the least she deserved after he abandoned you and your mother. Was she upset?”
“She doesn’t need or want the money. She feels like I do, just the fact that he recognized her by mentioning her in his will was more than she expected after all this time. My mother is a saint. Even before I left the Islands to come here, she encouraged me to face my own demons. Said it would be therapeutic.”
“And…?”
He gave her a lopsided grin. Her insides squirmed.
“It’s been more therapeutic than you know.” He wiggled his eyebrows. She concentrated on finishing the rest of her sandwich. “My mother told me to ask if you would disburse the money where it would most benefit the people of Lobster Cove.”
“Me? That’s very generous of her. But why me?”
“My mother is wise. She figured Eugenia wouldn’t want anything to do with money she’d inherited from Hunt. And, she feels the money belongs to the people of Lobster Cove, as they were the ones instrumental in helping to make McClintock and McClintock a success—their hard work should be repaid.”
“How gracious of her. I can ask Eugenia where she feels it would do the most good.”
“You don’t think she’ll refuse to help us with this task? Knowing it’s coming from my mother—Hunt’s first wife?”
“Eugenia might be a difficult person most of the time, but if she can help those in need, she’ll do it in a heartbeat.”
“What about you? Do you have any ideas?”
“There are a few places that always need assistance—organizations like the local food pantry, the library, the school. I know Eugenia has helped others on occasion, including the Fisherman’s Bereavement Fund and the McClintock Scholarship Fund she created.”
“They all sound worthy. I’ll check with my mother and see what she thinks.”
“And I’ll double check with Eugenia. It might be the olive branch needed to smooth things over between you.”
“I doubt that is ever going to happen. Especially once the DNA tests are confirmed.”
“I don’t know, I think her heart scare might have given her something to think about. She was genial when I visited her last night. Günter Jordan stopped by with a bouquet of roses. I think she actually blushed.”
“That reminds me…” He reached into a bag and presented her with a small potted plant. “Your new house needs a plant. Consider it a house warming present.”
Speechless, she could only stare. Other than her grandparents, no one had ever surprised her with gifts, no matter how small. Her heart melted. It may be insignificant to some, but to her, it was a big deal. Where was this guy two years ago? Why hadn’t she met him instead of Sebastian? Her heart ached knowing he was leaving town—leaving her behind. Oh, my God. She had fallen in love with him, and he was leaving. Tears pooled in her eyes.
She reached for the plant only to have Hunter set it aside and draw her across the blanket into his arms. His warm lips on hers sent sparks hitting every nerve in her body.
“You’re welcome,” he breathed against her mouth and pulled her closer. She clung to him and kissed him back, more urgently this time, a spine tingling longer embrace. They fell toward the ground, his hand protecting her neck, and the other splayed across her back, guiding her to a more comfortable position. Her body was on fire for this man whose touch she couldn’t resist.
The sun had disappeared over the top of the trees, the air warm and sensual as it whispered around her sensitized body. She quickly glanced at Makenzie snuggled in her seat—she was content and secure. She glanced up at Hunter and found his eyes full of desire, silently questioning her. Despite her resolve, she was finding it hard to resist him. She craved one more taste of paradise to hold onto for when he was gone—something to keep tucked in her heart. She lifted her lips to his, her hands pulling his head down to meet them in an embrace that was filled with the passion she could no longer hide. Thankfully, Hunter didn’t hesitate, his hands finding every erotic spot she never knew she had. The man made her feel things no one ever had.
****
Hunter had been patient long enough. Juelle McClintock was a sea siren—had driven him crazy, calling to him since the first day he laid eyes on her. After making love with her the other night, she was all he’d been able to think about. She was in his arms, now, and she wasn’t pushing back. In fact, her kisses were loaded with enough sexual sparks to burn her new home down. And what they did to him was illegal.
He had told himself he wasn’t going to make love to her again—there was no way he wanted to hurt her. She knew he was leaving, but he hadn’t been able to keep from kissing her, touching her one last time, and damned if he wasn’t about to lose control just holding her in his arms—he wasn’t going to let go. He couldn’t get enough of her, but would she resist if he continued to play out the fantasy he’d been having about her…them…in that shower big enough for two—their bodies naked, sudsy, and slick with lust—and that bed…under the skylight…
She pulled his lips to hers—it took his breath away. He pressed his body against her soft curves, tugged on her hips—she arched into him. Yes! She was on the same wavelength.
“Hmmm, Hunter…”
“Hmmm?” He didn’t want to remove his lips from hers, break the connection they were having at the moment. He shifted slightly in case he was too heavy against her. Then rolled her to the side with him. He groaned when her legs curled around his. The lady was going to kill him before they managed to make love—he couldn’t wait. He ran his hands over her breasts, down her waist, her hips, her thighs, and groaned. He nuzzled her neck—her moan as she tightened her arms around his neck had him growing hard.
He didn’t know where this was headed, but he damn well wasn’t going to stop now. Not unless she stopped him within the next two seconds.
Like the other night, she reached for his belt. He stopped her long enough to sit back on his haunches and proceeded to unbutton her blouse. It slid down over her shoulders. He didn’t hesitate, he slid her bra straps down over her silky smooth shoulders and caressed them with his lips. He felt her breasts against his chest and within seconds, they were both naked, back on the blanket, and in each other’s arms.
“Hunter?”
“Hmmmm?”
“Don’t stop now. Please.”
“I’m no genie, but your wish is about to be granted.”
Chapter Twelve
Juelle carried Makenzie upstairs and laid her in the crib. She tucked her in, gave her a soft kiss on top of her head, and then shut the light switch off on her way out. How could she feel like her world was finally falling into place, her heart soaring on cloud nine, when she knew having made love to Hunter McClintock, again, was wrong on so many levels?
She wanted to chalk it up to being a grieving window—lonely, distraught, needing a comforting shoulder to cry on. But she couldn’t. The only grieving she felt was for the loss of life—Sebastian’s—not the widow part. Their love had faded long ago. He’d been having an affair. She had only met Hunter a few days ago—it was too soon to fall under his spell and into his arms, let alone have sex with the man—twice. He was flying back home soon—she wasn’t into one night stands.
She headed for the shower, but got side-tracked and sat on the edge of the bed. Oh, my, God! Her daughter had been sleeping several feet away while they had made love. What kind of a mother was she? Granted her daughter had been sleeping and unaware. It was all Hunter’s fault. He’d hypnotized her into a state of forgetfulness—her surroundings, her daughter, her problems. And yes, she’d lost her mind. But, dear Lord, her mind had returned, and there was no way she could forget what the two of them had shared. Yes, there had been an instant attraction between them—an attraction she had tried hard to ignore. But he’d kept coming to her aid—she should have been on alert to…, what? That he was drawn to her? Felt sorry for her? Wanted her? Like she wanted him? Loved him.
She jumped from the bed and stepped into the shower, her guilt following right behind. She turned on the water and stood under the stinging spray. She shampooed her hair, rinsed, and then let the warm water run over her body, suds pooled around her feet. Was it a mistake? She didn’t want it to be. Guilty? For sure. Regrets? She pondered on that one for a moment, smiled, and then with a definite nod, decided she had no regrets. None. Hunter was a very gentle sexual lover, and there had been nothing tawdry about his love-making. He’d made her feel cherished…loved…alive.
She stepped from the shower, grabbed a towel, dried off, and put a nightdress on over her damp head. After blow-drying her hair, she padded across the floor to the bed and stopped. No way could she lie in this bed—a bed she’d shared with Sebastian—after having made delicious, all-consuming love with Hunter moments ago.
She threw on a robe, trooped to the front room where she sat, and looked out over the harbor. Sleep was the furthest thing from her mind. Instead, she could only think about being held in Hunter’s arms. How he made her feel, the fire he ignited inside her—a slow burn at first, a rekindling of a glowing ember lit so bright they’d had a hard time putting it out. She sighed, sat back in the chair, and wondered if she’d done the right thing. Was it too soon to be falling in love with Hunter McClintock? No…yes…NO! Just the thought of being held in his warm, strong, sensual arms, his tenderness as he made love to her, caused tears to form in the corner of her eyes. The lights on the harbor glistened as she focused on them. Tried to control her chaotic emotions.
She would never be able to go in the backyard of her new house again without the memory of the two of them making love under the moonlight in the middle of the lawn. She looked down at the rings Sebastian had placed on her finger two years ago.
It was time.
Juelle didn’t hesitate—she slipped the rings off, held them between her fingers, and gazed at them, contemplating what they had meant to her versus what they had meant to Sebastian. To her, they had been everything. But they were a lie. She fisted the rings, held them, holding in the anger that had been welling deep inside since the funeral and Nora Spears’ outburst. She had to let go of her anger or it would destroy her. She had a daughter to take care of, to love and protect.
