by Baird, Ginny
“A few bottles of white.” She reached in a bag and produced the evidence. “And, oh yes. A nice big bottle of Chianti.”
He grinned, and Sarah’s foolish heart went all aflutter. “You pour, and I’ll cook dinner.”
At the moment, a glass of wine sounded good. If she didn’t fear Matt would be counting, she might even have two. But her plus Matt Salvatore—plus alcohol—equaled trouble. She hadn’t quite forgotten that. This time, Sarah would have to keep her wits about her and watch every step. For there was really no way around it. Unless there was a dramatic break in the weather soon, the handsome heartbreaker was staying the night.
Chapter Three
Sarah set down her fork and dabbed her pretty mouth with a napkin. “That was absolutely delicious. The best fish I’ve tasted in ages.”
“I just hope I didn’t use up too many of our rations in preparing the wine sauce.” He lifted the bottle of chardonnay between them, offering to pour her another glass. She declined with a shake of her head.
“I don’t think I’d better, thanks.”
The deluge continued outdoors, slamming the house with fierce winds that howled in from the ocean and ripped in torrents across the sound. Their small refuge was a battering ram in the eye of the storm but fortunately had been built sturdy enough to withstand it. Over dinner, Matt had learned that Sarah now worked as an interior designer. It was an ambition she’d held since she was a little girl who’d meticulously stylized her dolls’ houses. The last time he’d seen her, she’d been considering leaving her stint as a receptionist for a political magazine and finally realizing her dream. She’d found a paid internship at a small design company in Northern Virginia and had eventually worked her way up. Sarah was glad to now have clients all over the District and in parts of Maryland as well, and Matt was proud of her for achieving her goal.
While she was just as beautiful as before, in some ways she seemed more mature, like she’d gained inner confidence. And Matt found that self-assurance intoxicating. He started to pour himself another glass of wine but then thought better of it. With Sarah sitting across from him in the candlelight, her dark eyes catching their glow, he was already feeling light-headed. No sense mixing his emotions up further by stirring in alcohol.
She stood to clear the table, then turned toward the oceanfront window, which was streaked by heavy slogs of rain. “I doubt that they’re running the ferry.”
“I’ll bet that ferry stopped running hours ago,” he said, standing and scooping up some plates as well. How he wished he had a clue as to what went wrong all that time ago. Perhaps if he got up the nerve tonight, he’d ask her. He clearly wasn’t going anywhere in this weather. Not only was the ferry bound to be cancelled, the beach road that led to the dock was sure to be knee-deep in water right now. Even if the squall magically stopped at this moment, it would take several hours for the storm surge to subside.
Sarah walked to the kitchen and set some dishes in the sink. “It’s fine with me if you stay here,” she said, color dusting her cheeks.
Matt set his plates on the counter and touched her arm.
She turned toward him.
“I really don’t have any other place to go.”
She flushed more brilliantly now, slightly catching her breath. “Of course, I know that. I mean, it’s silly to think… What I mean is, naturally you should stay. There really are no two ways about it.”
“No.”
She nervously turned on the water and began scrubbing dishes with a furor, her dish brush circling around and around again in exactly the same spot. Water streamed from the tap, growing hotter, steaming her face, and adding spring to her tight curls.
“Sarah?”
“Huh?” She lifted her brow, appearing surprisingly domestic, standing there by the sink very nearly about to scald herself.
Matt leaned forward and shut off the tap. “I think that one’s done.”
She stared into the shiny white plate, vaguely spying her reflection. “Uh, yup.”
“Tell you what,” he said kindly. “Why don’t you leave the rest of them for me.”
“Really?” she asked, appearing relieved.
He motioned to the plate she’d just finished drying. “After all, you’ve already done your share.”
Sarah was glad to have the opportunity to move to the living area and get out of the kitchen. If you can’t stand the heat, indeed… Sitting across the table from Matt had proved dangerous enough. What with his easy demeanor and good-natured laughter, it was simple to recall why she’d developed that raging crush on him.
“Can I fix you some tea?”
“Tea would be great,” she said, settling on the sofa.
“How about peppermint, in honor of the season?”
“Perfect!” She didn’t know what it was about Matt being near that made her such a ball of nerves, but somehow, when he stood close, her heart pounded faster and all reason seemed to evaporate like a wafting soap bubble. Thank goodness he’d sent her out of the kitchen before she’d done some serious damage to herself or the tableware.
Sarah tried to relax and tell herself she was getting all worked up over nothing. So what if she and Matt had a past and he was spending the night? They were two adults and certainly could handle it. It wasn’t like there weren’t two master bedrooms here.
Sarah nabbed a magazine off the coffee table and casually tried to survey its contents, but her gaze kept traveling away from the copy and homing in on Matt’s muscled back. Even through his cable-knit sweater, she could make out its contours, broad shoulders holding steady as he went about his work. He opened a cabinet and stretched tall to grab a teapot off a high shelf, jeans taut across his athletic backside. Sarah recalled that same derriere rising from their cozy bed, clad in nothing but checkered boxers, and felt her temperature rise.
“Doing all right?” he asked, turning toward her as she fanned herself with the magazine.
“Just a little warm in here.”
“Warm? I was about to say that it’s getting chilly. Suggest we build a fire.”
“Great idea,” Sarah said, tugging off her too-warm sweater.
Matt set the kettle on the stove, wondering what she was so hellfire nervous about. Okay, so maybe they’d had a bit of a history. But that was years ago. Surely she was over it by now. He was, wasn’t he? When they’d tumbled into bed, Matt had thought of nothing more than taking Sarah in his arms. Kissing her soundly. Making love to her… Matt’s neck flashed hot at the memory. There’d been something almost hypnotic about her, and the way their bodies had molded together on the dance floor had held the promise of something more. He’d secretly liked her since that first wedding party held on Elaine’s outdoor patio. Elaine and Robert had just gotten engaged and wanted to share their newfound joy with a close circle of friends. As it turned out, the dinner guests were also top picks for the wedding party, with Sarah selected as the maid of honor and Matt designated as the best man. He’d taken Sarah a beer, spouting some stupid line about how that meant they’d be working together. She’d narrowed her eyes with a laugh and said, “Don’t bet on us working together too closely.” From that moment, he’d been desperate to hold her and learn more about what made her beautiful brain tick. Sarah wasn’t just the best-looking woman in the place, she was also funny and fiery, a bright mischief burning behind those pretty brown eyes. He’d flirted with her all evening and at every prenuptial event after. It wasn’t until the wedding reception that she’d finally caved just a little, indicating that all along she’d equally been interested in him.
“You going to get that?”
Matt blinked hard at the kettle squealing on the stovetop before him. He’d been so lost in his reverie, he hadn’t heard it go off. “Yeah, sure,” he replied as casually as he could. “Just waiting on things to get nice and hot.”
Sarah’s eyes flashed. “It… I meant, the water… Yeah.”
He shot her a tight smile, then turned his back on her to make tea
. Hang on, this wasn’t right. All this while he’d been thinking she was the skittish one, but just look at him. Let’s build a fire… Let things get nice and hot. If he was going to come on to her, he could at least man up and do it directly. Not that this was in his plan. It hadn’t been his idea to walk out last time. Sarah had been the one to tell him to hit the road. And, given that the roads around here were certainly washed over, Matt decided that now wasn’t the time to bring up any touchy-feely subjects.
He strode across the living room with two steaming mugs of tea and sat down beside her, handing one over. Nearly imperceptibly, she rearranged herself on the sofa, scooting just the tiniest bit away from him. This was it, then. No sign could be clearer than that. Sarah wasn’t any more interested in Matt getting close than she’d been three years ago. Fine. He could deal with that. He was just here for one night, anyway.
Sarah took a sip of peppermint tea as the rain beat down harder and the winds wailed. “It’s delicious. Thank you.”
“I’m sorry?” he said beneath the commotion slamming their cottage from every direction.
Sarah raised her voice just a tad. “I said thanks for the tea! It’s delicious.”
“Glad that you like it,” Matt called back. The lights flickered, and they both stared at each other.
“You don’t think we’ll lose power, do you?”
“Robert put in a generator,” Matt said in an effort to reassure her. But all Sarah could think of was being alone here. With Matt. In the dark. It was hard enough to resist him with all the lights blazing, Sarah thought, feeling overheated again. She inched away from him on the sofa, then laughed when he gave her a quizzical look.
“Just getting comfortable, that’s all.” As if to prove it, she stuffed a large throw pillow behind her back. “Ah. Much better!”
Matt drank from his tea, then set it down. “Hmm. Yes.”
“When do you think they’ll reopen the ferry?”
“I suppose as soon as the water calms down.”
Outside the large glass door, the ocean tumbled about furiously, giving no indication that would be anytime soon. “Sarah,” Matt said, studying her sincerely. “I don’t want you to worry. Don’t think anything will happen here just because you and I—”
“No, of course not,” she rushed in, feeling idiotic.
“I mean, we do have separate bedrooms, after all.”
“I know,” she answered, wishing with all her might he hadn’t said that. Bedrooms plus Matt Salvatore in her mind led to one terribly embarrassing memory. Not that she totally blamed her formerly drunken self. She’d been a little younger and a whole less wiser back then. These days she understood what keeping her distance meant. It meant steering clear of unnecessary temptation. She picked up her tea, standing. “I think I’d better carry this back to the bedroom. Start unpacking.”
Matt’s brow creased with concern. “Did I say something…?”
“Oh no, it’s nothing like that. It’s just been a long day.”
She stared into deep blue eyes, consumed by them. He was one good-looking man, maybe the best-looking one she’d ever seen. It was impossible not to remember what it was like to kiss him and how his mouth had moved over hers with obviously practiced skill.
He held her gaze, and her heart stilled. “I hear you,” he said below the tumult of the storm. “Sleep well.”
When she spoke, she found her voice a little breathless. “Will this place be in one piece tomorrow?” But the truth was, she was more worried about her heart than the house getting lost in the squall.
“I’m sure we’ll be fine. This house has withstood far worse and lived to tell the tale.”
It was impossible for Sarah to sleep with the winds wailing outdoors. Each time the house shook, she feared for their security, imagining their tiny cottage being swept out to sea in a swell. But that was ludicrous. Matt was right. This place had been built to withstand the winds. And this wasn’t some huge hurricane anyway. It was nothing more than a fierce winter storm tearing its way down the east coast. Winds howled again, sending the window casings rattling in her room, and Sarah sat up with a start. An eerie light illuminated the room, emanating from the solar-powered nightlight placed in a low wall outlet. No way could she settle down now. Maybe some more of that herb tea would help.
Sarah slid out from under the covers and tugged a sweatshirt over her head. It had grown chilly in the midst of the storm, a damp cold seeping indoors. She’d be warmer sleeping with someone else but wasn’t about to consider it. Falling into bed at the drop of a hat wasn’t her style. This was one reason her escapade with Matt had proved so jarring. While she wasn’t precisely chaste, she’d slept only with the few guys with whom she’d had committed relationships. Bedding the best man had been an outlier. So far outside her realm of normal behavior, in fact, that it had caused her to question her priorities. And when she examined those, she saw that what she longed for most of all wasn’t some guy who was in it for a one-night stand. She wanted a guy who would stick around forever, in sickness and in health. Someone who wouldn’t turn tail and run the moment he learned more about her.
Sarah sighed, wishing so much that Matt had proved himself to be different. But he’d been like all the rest. Eager to take advantage and then ride off into the sunrise at the first crack of dawn. Of course, she understood she was equally to blame for their night of debauchery. It was just a pity that—after all the trouble it had caused—she couldn’t recall the details.
Matt rummaged through the cabinets in search of something to eat. He didn’t know why he was so incredibly hungry, but his stomach had been growling so loudly he hadn’t been able to sleep. Perhaps he hadn’t had enough dinner, or maybe it was nerves. Growing up in a big Italian family had taught him that the best way to settle any insecurity was with a hearty dose of food. But why should Matt feel unsettled at all? It wasn’t like he had to worry about becoming involved with Sarah. She clearly had no greater interest in him now than she’d had previously. And that was a shame too. The truth was she’d never given him a chance. Never given us a chance…to see what might be. He couldn’t imagine what he’d done wrong, but she hadn’t even wanted to talk about it. At least she’d been upfront in saying good-bye. Conniving Katya would have kept him coming back for more, as long as he’d failed to discover her duplicity.
He set a box of crackers on the counter and opened the refrigerator in search of some cheese, believing he’d think better after a snack. He didn’t know what it was about Sarah that still got to him after all this time. For all intents and purposes, she was a small part of his past. A long-lost flirtation he should have written off over the years. But seeing her again had proved something different. Matt had an odd inner instinct that maybe there was a reason… Some convoluted explanation for why they’d wound up here together. He wondered vaguely if she was sensing this too. Or whether he’d only imagined Sarah’s warm brown eyes registering interest as she’d held his gaze, saying good night.
Sarah padded toward the kitchen in her slippers thinking she’d heard noises there. But it was after two in the morning. Surely Matt couldn’t be up? She rounded the corner, then stopped in her tracks. It was Matt standing nude on the far side of the open refrigerator door! All she could spy from her position was the top of his gloriously muscled chest, bare shoulders, and his deep blue eyes peering in her direction.
“Sarah?” he asked with surprise. “What are you doing up?”
She took a giant step back, hands to her cheeks, which felt as hot as coals. “I…uh…” She dropped her hands with a questioning look. “What are you doing up?”
He glanced downward as if checking something, then once again met her eyes. It was pretty hard to tell in the dim light of the kitchen, but Sarah could almost swear his face had colored as well. “I’m just getting a snack.”
“Do you always eat naked?” she blurted out, the words racing off her tongue.
A slow, sly grin worked its way across his sexy face.
“Not usually,” he said, shutting the refrigerator door.
Sarah gasped and shut her eyes. “Ah!”
She’d hoped she would hear him making his retreat. Or at least, goodness knows, grabbing a dishtowel. Instead she just heard silence, coupled with competing winds.
“Well, they may be a little ratty, but I don’t think my camp shorts look that bad.”
Sarah peeked between splayed fingers to see he was right. In fact, what he wore—something akin to boxers—made him look absolutely terrific. He smiled and held out some cheese. “I was just sitting down for a bite. Want to join me?”
“Will there be wine involved?” she asked, thinking she needed it badly. Not a whole lot, just a small glass. Enough to calm her nerves—and erase the picture she’d just envisioned.
“There could be.”
“Do you think you could put a few more clothes on?”
He laughed warmly. “Anything you’d like. Do you prefer jeans or sweatpants?”
“Doesn’t matter,” she said, feeling her cheeks warm again.
“Why don’t you pick the wine while I go change?”
Sarah found the corkscrew with unsteady fingers. Staying here alone with Matt wasn’t nearly as easy as she’d imagined. Every time he centered those gorgeous blue eyes on hers, the memories came racing back. Most of them, anyhow.
“Still don’t have it open yet?” Matt asked, resurfacing in record time. He wore jeans and an old gray sweatshirt. Only his feet were bare as before.
Sarah grimaced, wrestling with the bottle. “Cork seems to be stuck.”
“Here, let me help with that.”
He stepped forward to take the bottle, and Sarah’s heart beat faster. It was hard to forget what being in his arms had been like. More impossible still to erase the memory of his kiss.
Matt easily opened the wine and poured them each a glass. Once he’d set some cheese and crackers on a platter, they each settled down on one of the barstools abutting the center island.
