by Julia London
Dax leaned forward. He touched her chin. “I’ll keep her.”
Kyra didn’t understand. “Keep who?”
“Ruby Coconuts. I’ll keep her,” he said. “I’ll babysit while you’re at work.”
Kyra gasped. Her heart swelled with affection. “Ohmigod, when did you get to be so nice? That . . . that is a very generous thing to offer, Dax, and I can’t tell you how much it means to me. But I can’t let you do that—”
“Sure you can. I’ll put the kid to work. If she keeps my dog out from under my feet, it will be well worth it.”
“No, I can’t let you do that. She needs a lot of attention. She’ll be underfoot as much as Otto.” He had no idea what he was offering, but Kyra did. She would not subject him to a rambunctious, yard-wandering, talkative six-year-old. “I won’t take advantage of you like that. She needs to be with a babysitter who can focus on what she’s doing, and I know I can find one. I went cheap the first time around, but I never will again, I don’t care how much it costs, I’ll find something appropriate and safe—”
“Hey,” he said and cupped her face with one big hand. “Take a breath, Kyra.”
She obediently gulped a breath.
“Listen to me . . . I’ll keep her until you can arrange something else. Or until school starts. It’s not that big a deal.”
“It is.”
“It’s not,” he said, shaking his head. “Ruby likes to help. It will be fine.”
She ought to protest, to refuse his offer, but once again, Kyra was overwhelmed with gratitude. He’d just offered to save her from yet another bind. She’d never realized how many binds she constantly found herself in until someone came along to help her unbind. She looked into his eyes, which she’d once thought were so dark and distant and now seemed so kind and caring. “You keep saving me,” she said. “Doesn’t that get old?”
“I’m not saving you, I’m helping you. Isn’t it nice to have someone to lean on for once?”
He had no idea. She was so overcome with emotion that at first she could only nod. “Yes, it is. And you know what else?”
“What?”
“I so want to kiss you right now.”
His smile, slow and sexy, burned right through her. He leaned back in his chair and opened his arms. “I’m sitting right here, baby.”
Kyra wasn’t very graceful in her lurch across the table, and in fact, she managed to knock over his empty wineglass. But Dax caught her and dragged her onto his lap before she destroyed the kitchen. She pushed her face into his neck and kissed him as she wrapped her arms around him. “You have surprised me in so many ways,” she said. “I’m overwhelmed right now.”
“Don’t think about it,” he said, his breath warm and soft on her skin. “Just kiss me.”
Kyra kissed him. He twisted her around, bending her backward to kiss her more thoroughly. A shiver of desire quickly turned liquid in her veins, and her thoughts began to race toward what he’d said yesterday—he knew his way, he knew how to get in and get it done.
She pushed up and slid off his lap. She grabbed his hand and pulled him to his feet. Dax didn’t question her, but let her lead him down the hall to her bedroom. Kyra pushed him inside, then carefully closed the door so as not to wake her little sleeping beauty. She turned around and faced him.
The two of them stood a moment, staring at each other. The air around them felt highly charged; it was as if a thousand words passed between them, the mute but mutual agreement that they both needed this, and in a bad way.
“Do you have any protection?” he asked quietly.
She nodded.
That was it, the only thing either of them needed, because they reached for each other at the very same moment.
Dax put her on her back on the bed and crawled over her. He stared down at her, his eyes darkening in the soft, pink light of an outside street lamp that illuminated her room. His mouth looked luscious to her, like candy, and she raked her fingers through his hair before pulling his head to hers. She didn’t think about what this meant, if it was more than a moment, if she was ready for it or not. The yearning in her was so strong and explosive that she leapt headlong into it. She was staggered by how much she needed him right now, both physically and emotionally—but she would worry about that tomorrow.
His hands and his mouth were moving across her body as their clothes came off, a piece at a time. Kyra had to bite her lip to keep from whimpering with joyous agony when she saw him without his clothes—he was a Greek god, a powerfully built and perfect man. The fire in her began to rage, and there was no way to extinguish it except to take him inside her.
The sex was erotically chaotic as their hands and mouths and limbs tangled together. Her skin felt almost singed in every place his mouth touched her, sizzling right off the bone. She moved her hands in trails down his body, exploring and arousing him. Just the scent of him, all spicy and woodsy, drove her wild. When he looked at her, she felt desirable—she was not a single mother working long hours and trying to study for a real estate license in this bed—she was the woman she’d once been. She was young and vibrant and enthusiastic and beautiful.
He moved down her body, to her breasts, ravishing her with his mouth and his hands.
Kyra’s breath grew shorter. She was inflamed and impatient, ready for all of it. She’d moved well past lust, well beyond reason. But she also wanted to move slowly, to savor it. And yet she pressed and moved provocatively against him, demanding more with her hands and mouth.
When Dax at last sank into her, the weeks and months and years of leashed desires began to ebb away from her. She had forgotten how exquisite the feel was of a man inside her. She’d forgotten how powerful she felt when he was moving against her. His body, his attention were like salve to an old wound.
As he stroked her with his body and his hands, Kyra moved with him, pressing harder and faster until she cried out in the tsunami of her release as the desire flooded out of her. She was aware of his release, aware of the heavy weight of him as he collapsed partially onto her. But it was several moments before she could swim to the surface of her consciousness and open her eyes.
He was looking at her, his expression soft and even affectionate. He brushed hair from her face and smiled. “Well, hello, Kyra Coconuts.”
“Hello, you,” she said and wrapped her arms around him.
At that moment, Kyra didn’t care what happened tomorrow, or the day after that. She had gone so far down the rabbit hole of desire and tenderness that she didn’t think there was any way out of it for her now.
Kyra liked that idea. She liked it a lot.
Chapter Fifteen
At half past three in the morning, Dax sprang up the steps of his cottage with more energy than was reasonable.
Otto was lying outside the door, and he lifted his head as Dax approached. He did not, however, wag his tail as was his habit. “Don’t get your panties in a wad,” Dax said and opened the door. Otto slipped inside and halted just at the threshold so that Dax had to step over him. “Look, I know you don’t like it, but I’m entitled to be a man every now and again,” Dax said and bent down to scratch the dog’s head.
Otto wasn’t buying it. He sashayed off in the direction of his dog bed.
Dax went into the kitchen for a glass of water. He was parched after that magnificent romp. He looked out his window at the tiny bit of light glowing through Kyra’s kitchen window. He’d left her in her bed, wearing a T-shirt and some thong panties that she’d pulled on at the last minute. Her hair was all over the place—thick, rich, black Greek hair. He didn’t know if she was actually Greek, but that’s the way he thought of her now—a Greek goddess.
It had been a good evening. A spectacular evening. He was privately pleased to discover that he still knew how to ride that bike, but more than that, he was in awe of how he’d been moved by her response to him. She’d been all-in, an eager participant. He thought of how routine it had been between him and Ashley in the last year of the
ir marriage, and the two trysts Dax had had since then were more about sex than anything else. But with Kyra . . . there had been something unexpected and intense about it. Dax wasn’t sitting on his invisible shelf high above the rest of the world any more. Tonight he’d tumbled right off and had landed in soft, gooey happiness.
He went to bed smiling.
Otto woke him the next morning, whining to go out. Dax stumbled out of bed and opened the door and was surprised to find Ruby. “How long have you been standing there?” he asked.
“I don’t remember.” Her hair was in a long braid down her back and she was wearing overalls. “Mommy said to tell you that, um . . . we’re, um . . .” She paused to pet Otto.
“Spit it out, kid,” Dax pressed her.
Ruby’s fingers began to flutter, and Dax realized he’d forgotten to mention the seizures to Kyra. He squatted down and touched Ruby’s face. “Wake up, Coconut.”
She blinked rapidly, then managed to focus on him. “Mommy said we’ll bring you something from the store if you want. Do you want ice cream?” she asked hopefully.
He laughed. “No. Tell your mom I’m good. I’ve got all that I need.”
“Not even ice cream?”
He couldn’t help his smile. “Yeah. I want some ice cream. What kind should I want?”
“Chocolate.”
“I want some chocolate ice cream.”
“Awesome!” she said, thrusting her fist in the air. She whirled around, leapt off the porch, and landed on all fours, then bounced up and began to race toward her house. “Mommy! He wants chocolate ice cream!”
Dax walked out onto the porch and looked over at Number Three. Kyra was standing on the steps. She waved. He waved back.
Yeah, he was going to like this. A lot.
As it turned out, Kyra didn’t have to work today, and they ended up in neighborly companionship during the afternoon. Ruby went back and forth between their cottages. Kyra brought Dax some iced tea she’d made. Dax finished a piece he was working on and put it in the truck, then invited Ruby to ride along to the John Beverly shop. Ruby was thrilled.
“You don’t have to do that,” Kyra said. She was wearing loose jeans and a gauzy white top and had her hair tied back with a bandana. She looked like she’d just walked back from the market on Mykonos Island and could not possibly have been more attractive to Dax.
“I know I don’t have to. But I need a helper, and you need to study.”
She smiled, her eyes sparkling with what he interpreted to be affection, and it rained glitter inside him.
“I’m making spaghetti for Ruby tonight. Will you at least let me feed you?”
“Meatballs?”
“Are you kidding? Of course meatballs. Did you think I was some sort of bizarre health nut?”
He laughed and couldn’t help himself—he stroked her cheek. “I think you’re a beautiful nut.”
“Stop it,” Kyra said sheepishly, blushing. But she was obviously pleased with the compliment—her smile was luminescent. She turned to go inside but said over her shoulder, “Hurry back, okay?”
Oh, he was going to hurry.
At John Beverly Home Interiors, Wallace eyed Ruby as she hopped out of the truck, then Dax. He frowned. “I wouldn’t let Janet see that child if I were you.”
“Too late,” Dax said and nodded toward the shop door. Ruby had already disappeared inside. She’d been chattering about bath toys since they left the cottages.
Wallace looked over the pull-up chair Dax had made. “We need more consoles,” he said as they went inside for the check. “The two we had sold before we could put them on the floor. You’re becoming quite the furniture guy around town, did you know that?”
“No,” Dax said.
He did not get to hear more about what a stud he was in the furniture field, because Janet met them at the door from the storeroom into the showroom, her hands on her hips. “Are you kidding me, Dax? What’s going on here?” she asked, jerking her thumb over her shoulder. “Isn’t that your neighbor’s little girl?”
“Ruby, put that down,” Dax said, and Ruby returned the candlestick to the display table. He shrugged and said, “She’s my helper.”
“Helper my ass,” Janet said. “I know what’s going on, Dax, I’m not stupid. You do know that Heather thinks you have a date Wednesday.”
Dax snorted. “I don’t think so—”
“You do. You told her you’d go.”
“I didn’t . . .” He sighed. “I didn’t tell her I would go. I was answering someone else when she asked me, and she misinterpreted—”
“She is counting on it, Dax. She bought a new dress!” Janet made it sound like Heather had donated her kidney to him.
Great. “Okay, Janet. I’ll handle it.”
“You better,” she said, pointing a finger at him.
He collected his check and Ruby and got away from Janet as fast as he could. As they headed home, he realized he would have to call Heather and break a date he’d never made. If he’d learned anything from this experience, it was that he would never, never let anyone set him up again. People tended to get a little bit too invested in it.
That evening there seemed to be a lot of chaos around the preparation of dinner. Kyra tried to cook and bathe Ruby at the same time, while Otto tried to take a bath with Ruby. Dax made himself useful by repairing a loose doorknob and a window that wouldn’t latch. Twice, he noticed Ruby’s seizures, but Kyra was talking and Ruby was talking, and Kyra seemed not to think much about it.
He figured she knew about them. Of course she did.
The spaghetti was standard fare, but the real treat was the conversation around the table and the delight with which Ruby squealed every time Otto would lick her. The dog had staked out his claim underneath the table, monitoring the floor closely for any food droppings.
Dax was a little surprised by how much he enjoyed the evening, but moreover, he was reminded of his truest desires. This was exactly the sort of scene he used to envision when he was married to Ashley. Somewhere along the way, he’d let that dream drift away from him and rarely thought of it now. This evening had brought it all back to him, and he realized that he still wanted it.
After dinner they played a game with Ruby until just before bedtime. As Kyra was putting the game away, Ruby had another petite seizure.
“Okay, come on,” Kyra said. She didn’t remark on the seizure, and honestly, Dax couldn’t say if she’d noticed it at all. He reminded himself to speak to her about it after Ruby was in bed. He sat on the couch and listened to their voices as Kyra read her daughter a story, and Ruby interrupted her with questions.
Was he crazy to be thinking about this long-term? Had he allowed himself to return to an old, but failed, fantasy? Maybe it wasn’t a fantasy. Maybe this thing between them could actually work. Dax felt a little foolish for even thinking about it after a couple of pseudodates with Kyra, but he was comfortable, and he was astonishingly happy. After all this time since Ashley had laid her bombshell on him and destroyed his good humor, he did not want to lose that.
He heard Ruby’s door close, and then Kyra appeared. She leapt across the tiny living room and landed on his lap, straddling him, and then began to kiss him.
“Hey,” he said between kisses. “There is something I need to tell you.”
Kyra lifted her head and stared down at him. “Already?”
He laughed. “It’s not bad.”
She sighed with relief. “For a minute there I thought I made you my signature spaghetti and meatballs and you were going to tell me it’s been swell, but.”
“Please,” he said gravely, “I would never do that on spaghetti night.”
She laughed. “So then what are you going to tell me?”
He kissed her again. “Just in case you should hear about it, I’m breaking a date with Heather I never made.”
She pushed herself up completely, bracing her hands against his chest. “With Heather, huh?”
He nodde
d. “We had a miscommunication, and she thinks I agreed to go. I didn’t.”
Kyra slid off his lap. “Hey, you don’t have to explain,” she said and pretended to pick up the game she’d already picked up. “I mean, I knew you were dating her, and we were having a ‘moment,’ so please don’t feel like you owe me any explanation.”
“Wait—what are you talking about?” he asked, feeling suddenly and annoyingly anxious.
“That’s what you called it, remember? A ‘moment.’ And I . . . I took that to mean that it’s mutually beneficial as long as it’s mutually beneficial.”
“That makes no sense. Who thinks that way? I never meant that.” He reached for her hand and made her drop the game box. “Does this,” he said, gesturing between the two of them, “feel like a ‘moment’ to you?”
“No. It feels like a thing,” she admitted. “Are we having a thing?”
He pulled her down onto his lap again. “What do you want it to be?”
Her gaze settled on his eyes. “I don’t know,” she said, then instantly shook her head. “No, that’s not really true. I do know. I want it to be a thing.”
Dax drew a deep breath. Before he could respond, she said, “Is that the wrong thing to say? I’m out of practice here, and I know I’m not supposed to jump the gun, and I know I’m supposed to be coy and play hard to get, but I want it to be a thing, Dax. I would really like to see where this goes between us, because I have a feeling it could be amazing. So if you don’t want it to be a thing, now is the time to pack your dog and go.”
He chuckled softly and ran his hand roughly over her head. “I want it to be a thing, too.”
Her eyes widened with delight. “You do?”
“Yes.”
“So . . . we’re a thing?”
“We’re a thing,” he said and smiled at the craziness of it all before he kissed her. He wrapped his arms around her, and he kissed her, and she sank into him and kissed him back.
They eventually and quietly made their way to her bedroom, and Dax found himself floating in that space between conscious thought and blissful release again. He didn’t know why her, what it was about Kyra Kokinos that drove him to such heights of pleasure, but the sex felt almost new again. It was different and exciting, and he was . . . damn it, he was falling for her. Plummeting, really.
