by Tess MacKall
At six-thirty that evening, Nick strode through the back door of the shop looking a bit haggard. He plopped down in a chair across from Eden. She had to hand it to him. He’d really helped her out in a pinch and not once had he complained. If a woman knew the way to a man’s heart was through his stomach, maybe Nick had found his way to hers with his actions today. Her opinion of him had gone up several notches on the humanity scale.
“Tired?” she asked.
“A little. Carolyn said Wesley is sixty-two years old. I can see him getting through the hospital delivery. But the in-and-out part of the home deliveries is murder.”
Eden snickered. “He’s pretty spry for an old guy.”
Nick had really come through for her and she needed to thank him. But what then? He hadn’t said a word about their situation. Did he expect her to fall into his arms just because he’d delivered flowers for her?
“So how long is Wesley going to be out?”
“At least until Monday. But we can handle it. I’ll just leave Carolyn in the shop and do the deliveries myself, which is what I’d planned to do today until you stepped in. By the way, thank you. I appreciate your help.”
“You’re welcome.” He stood and stretched. “That wasn’t so hard was it?”
“What?” asked Eden.
“Saying thank you. And we spent some time together and got along fine.”
“You were gone more than you were here. We were both too busy to argue.”
“True, but I think it’s another building block.”
“Another?” she asked.
“Yeah, we made some headway in our relationship last night, and a little more today.”
“I’m not so sure about that, Nick. And what relationship?”
“The one we’re going to have at the end of the twelve days. Well, I’m heading home. Think I’ll hit a drive-thru for dinner. I’ll see you midmorning.” He turned and walked toward the door.
Eden leapt from her chair. “Nick, seriously, I can handle the deliveries.”
“I’m sure you can. But tomorrow is day ten. I’m still keeping my end of the bargain. And I’m still driving a Chevy.” He opened the door, looking up at the jingling bells. “Night, Eden.”
Speechless, Eden watched him close the door and cross the street to his car. She stomped back to her desk. Too exasperated to accomplish any more tonight, she grabbed the keys and proceeded to lock up, all the while wondering what Nick had up his sleeve. And again, why bother with her at all?
* * * * *
Countdown: Day Eight
Eden opened her eyes and stretched, glancing at the clock on the nightstand. She’d slept ’til almost three. The afternoon sun peeked around the edges of the blinds and streaked the pale pink walls of her bedroom in bursts of light. If she hadn’t spent so little time with her mother through the harried week, she’d turn over and sleep the rest of the day too.
Throwing back the covers, she grabbed her robe and made her way down the hall to the bathroom. A hot shower would wake her up, then she’d go help with the Sunday dinner her mother was probably already busy preparing.
While showering, Eden’s thoughts drifted to Nick. For three days straight he’d made all the floral deliveries. He’d kept his distance and hadn’t talked that much at all. He’d even brought lunch for her and Carolyn after his daily hospital run. She’d asked how he could take so much time from his own work and he’d shrugged, telling her it was one of the perks of being the boss. Although he had spent a lot of time on his cell phone, and the expression on his face appeared all business as he spoke.
The hot spray beat down on her tired muscles as she rinsed the shampoo from her hair. She turned off the taps, slid the shower door open and grabbed a towel. A vision of Nick stepping from the shower, water rivulets running down his smooth chest, flashed in her mind. Pleasure pangs simmered low in her belly. Damn! She couldn’t get away from the man. Pushing him from her thoughts, she dried off and slipped into her robe.
Eden flopped across the bed. Her mother had kept her room just the way it was in high school. With her workdays so long, she hadn’t had any time to redecorate. The pink walls, floral cushioned headboard and white furnishings had to go. Her tastes had certainly changed since she was seventeen.
Well, apparently not her taste in everything. She still had a hankering for Nick Lancaster.
Jumping from the bed and rushing to her closet, she pulled down her senior yearbook. Anxiously, she thumbed through the pages. Where is it? It was the only picture she had of her and Nick together. Even in the debate club photo, he stood on the opposite end of the stage from her. But in the one she was looking for…
There it was, a shot of her and Nick in chemistry class. They’d just happened to be paired as partners by the teacher that semester and the assistant principal had snapped the image in the middle of a class experiment. Nick was standing behind Eden, leaning over her shoulder. His arm lay draped across the back of her chair. He was smiling. Right before the picture was taken he’d whispered in her ear, “You know, we don’t really need that Bunsen burner. Being this close makes me think we could start our own fire.”
Eden hadn’t taken him seriously, of course. He’d simply liked yanking her chain and never failed to try to shock her. Her reply had been, “Blow it out your ear, Lancaster.” I was really clever in those days, wasn’t I?
She fell back against the bed with the yearbook across her chest. The man sure could start a fire. One day she’d love to shock Nick with a sexual zinger of her own. Like the fact that for the past year she’d masturbated almost nightly while thinking about him. Then of course she’d have to wipe that smug look off his face.
Thinking about his fingers playing with her the night at the lake had forced her to buy new batteries for her fingertip vibrator. Waking up with him on her mind, then having him in and out at work all day and going to bed and dreaming about him had unleashed a seemingly unquenchable thirst for him.
Sexual need charged through her. Her hands tugged at the sash of her robe as she shrugged out of the sleeves. She retrieved a small brown box hidden in the back of her nightstand drawer. Flipping the lid open revealed a small, shiny metal object. She slipped the attached band over her index finger and nestled her head on the pillows.
With a tiny click, a soft whirring sound emanated from the vibrator. She let it roam across her breasts, her nipples responding immediately—tingling, aching. Eden willed Nick’s face to her as the tiny toy trailed over her rounded stomach and down to the triangular thatch of hair covering her pussy. Teasing herself, she rested the vibrator on top of her outer lips but didn’t dip inside, wanting the sweet torture to last long enough to picture Nick’s head between her thighs.
“Mmm…I’m so wet for you, Nick. Lick me. Make me come in your mouth.” How she loved dirty talk, but only engaged in it when she was alone with her vibrator. It was one of the sexy little secrets she kept locked away with all her other fantasies. She pinched her nipples with her free hand and wet her lips. What she wouldn’t give to spend the rest of her life naked in Nick’s arms. The things she wanted him to do to her body were so wicked and wanton. Would he be turned-off if he knew her hidden desires?
Images of Nick parting her folds, his tongue twirling around her clit sent sharp spasms of lust to her center. Oh Nick, I want you so much. The throbbing in her clit increased. She spread her legs wide, arching her hips to allow the buzzing toy to sink within her wetness and stimulate her where she needed it most.
Remembering how hard Nick’s cock had felt against her body, she imagined it thrusting inside her, filling her up and touching every part of her.
“Fuck me hard. Deeper. Faster.”
Her head thrashed against the pillows as she whispered his name between moans. In her mind’s eye, his face hovered then lowered to her pussy and he scooped her clit in his mouth. The vibrator tapped relentlessly at the engorged nub as his head moved from side to side. She clenched her muscles tight, her climax buil
ding. She began to pant, and her eyes flew open but she squeezed them shut again with the incredible surge of satisfaction tumbling through her body and the image of Nick lifting his head with her juices shining on his face.
She lay there spent, legs splayed, heart racing, but feeling oh so relaxed. How she wished she could have been so shameless with Nick. She slapped her thigh. It was rock-hard but a bit on the large side. Why couldn’t she have been born tall and leggy like Jenna and that bunch? Her short, dumpy frame seemed to be the root of all her disappointments in life. When she was with a man, she could never let herself go completely.
Enough! Self-pity didn’t help.
She brushed out her freshly shampooed hair and clipped it on top of her head. Once she’d tugged on a t-shirt and sweats, she padded down the hall for a quick stop at the bathroom to wash her face and hands, then on to the kitchen. Her mother was doing exactly what Eden figured—prepping for the traditional Sunday dinner.
It had been only the two of them since Eden’s father had passed away when she was ten, but her mother had still made the effort. Eden couldn’t imagine the loneliness her mother had suffered while she’d been living in New York. Then again, maybe she could. Her own solitary existence hadn’t been much better.
However, Eden’s desolation had resulted from bad choices while her mother’s was not of her making. Eden agonized over her stupidity as much as she did her boss’s rejection. Instead of moving on once he’d dumped her, she’d kept her position as gallery manager, thinking he’d come to his senses and want her back. For an entire year she’d wallowed in self-pity. The phone call from her mother informing Eden of her illness, as terrible as it was, had been the swift kick in the ass she’d needed to leave behind New York and the career that was no longer enough to make her happy.
“Hi, Mom. I see you’ve started without me again.”
“You need your rest, honey. You work so hard. Come here and peel these potatoes.” Her mother set a bowl filled with potatoes on the kitchen island and handed Eden a peeler.
“Wow, you’re making mashed potatoes to go along with that chicken I see over there and potato salad?”
“No, just the mashed potatoes. We’re having deviled eggs instead of potato salad this time.” Humming a tune, Mrs. Riley began dicing an onion.
“Then you gave me too many potatoes. I’ll just peel three.”
“No. Peel them all. We’re having a guest.”
Something about the way her mother said that stopped Eden cold. Potato peeler poised midair, she asked, “Who?”
“Nick. We need to properly thank him for helping out this week. And don’t argue.” She hummed a little louder.
“I hadn’t planned on it.” Actually she had, but her mother’s tone cautioned otherwise.
“He’s a nice young man. I bet he never gets a home-cooked meal.”
“I agree. He’s very nice. And you’re probably right about the home cooking too.”
“My, haven’t you changed your attitude though.”
“Not entirely. So don’t get any ideas. But inviting him to dinner was the right thing to do. I’m glad you thought of it.”
Eden had to admit, while she still had her misgivings, the thought of seeing Nick sent her heart rate soaring. Being around him the previous three days had proved pleasant, almost comfortable. Of course work kept them from being in each other’s faces and probably prevented their usual verbal battles. Thank God the pre-Valentine’s Day rush had limited her physical reaction to him somewhat. But just in case, she’d stowed a pair of extra panties in her purse. For her mother’s sake, she’d try to keep things civil during dinner.
“Earth to Eden. Eden?”
“Yes?”
“You going to peel those potatoes or stare the hide off them? I told Nick six o’ clock. Hop to it, girlie.”
Eden began shaving the potato, anticipation swelling inside her.
Chapter Six
At six p.m. exactly, Nick rang the doorbell. Mrs. Riley’s suggestion that he have dinner with her and Eden had been right up his alley. The smartest move he’d made so far in his campaign to win Eden’s love had been to include Mrs. Riley. Dealing with Eden required an ally.
Three days of being with her and not touching her had damn near killed him. Every second of every day all he could think of was that one incredible kiss they’d shared and the way she’d reacted to his touch.
But he’d also spent a lot of time trying to figure out why she’d rejected him.
That kiss and the way she’d gone off like a rocket in his hand told him how much she wanted him. The fire that flashed in her eyes whenever she looked at him was about a hell of a lot more than being pissed off. And if she ached for him the way he did her, then why not let him make love to her?
Nick stifled a yawn. Each night after he’d left the flower shop he’d gone to the office to get some paperwork out of the way. He hadn’t been to bed before two a.m. in three nights. But after hearing Mrs. Riley say that Eden seemed happy that he was coming to dinner, he’d gotten his second wind.
The door opened and Eden, dressed in a deep red sweater and faded jeans, smiled at him. Nick’s shoulders relaxed. Had he really been that tense? Seeing her welcoming smile made it all worth it. Now if only he could take her in his arms and kiss her. Damn, she looked good in those jeans. And the way that sweater molded to her breasts kicked his cock into boner mode.
Soon, he promised himself.
“Hi, come on in.” Eden stepped aside and allowed him to pass.
He handed her a bottle of chardonnay. “Your mom said rosemary chicken. I hope this works.”
“Oh yeah. Looks good. Follow me to the kitchen and we’ll let this chill. We’re still putting the finishing touches on dinner. Hope you’re not too hungry.”
“No. I’m fine.” Actually, he was starving.
He had dealership reports that needed to be finished by tomorrow and had gone into the office at six that morning to try to make some more headway on them. Skipping lunch had seemed like a good idea at the time, but the smell coming from the kitchen awakened his hunger with a vengeance.
“Nick, how are you?” Mrs. Riley popped a pan of homemade biscuits in the oven.
“Wonderful now that I’m here. Thanks for inviting me.”
She stood and placed her hands on her hips. “Tell me, Nick. Honestly. When’s the last time you had a home-cooked meal?”
Grinning, Nick shook his head. “I don’t remember the last time. I’m sure it’s been since my mom moved to Florida though. And that was four years ago. I’m afraid my wife didn’t cook. We ate out a lot or did takeout.”
“That’s a shame, son.” Mrs. Riley wiped her hands on a dishcloth and opened the fridge door. Bent over, head inside the fridge, she continued, “Eden is a great cook.”
Nick looked over at Eden, whose face reddened.
“Mom, I don’t think Nick is worried about my cooking.”
Mrs. Riley straightened and brought a cheese tray out of the fridge, setting it down on the kitchen island in front of Nick. “You’re starving. I can always tell. Oh and here…” She slid a plate of deviled eggs over to him. “Take a couple of these too.”
“Thanks!” Nick said, taking a slice of cheese.
“Thought you said you weren’t hungry,” Eden chided in a playful voice.
“I lied. Haven’t eaten since a muffin this morning about five.” He picked up a deviled egg and added it to his mouthful of cheese.
“Why don’t you two kids go set the table? I’ll finish up here.” Mrs. Riley smiled and waved a dishcloth at them. “Go on. Shoo!”
* * * * *
Dinner went well. Having her mother there made things even more comfortable for Eden. Mostly they talked about how things had changed over the years and reminisced about the good ole days.
After dinner, Nick insisted that Eden’s mom sit and rest while he and Eden shared clean-up duty. Nick cleared while Eden loaded the dishwasher. Together they wrapped the lef
tovers and put them in the fridge.
Spending time with Nick doing such menial chores made Eden wonder. She couldn’t imagine him clearing dishes with Jenna. He’d said she never cooked and they ate out all the time. What kind of home life had he lived? And why hadn’t they ever had children?
Eden set the dishwasher cycle and pressed the start button. She turned to find Nick leaning against the kitchen island eyeing her. His easy smile became a lopsided grin.
He was just so damn handsome. Worse than that, she couldn’t stop having all these feelings for him. It would be easier if he picked a fight with her. Twelve Days of Love. What a silly idea. Still, it seemed to be working. They weren’t arguing. He’d been true to his end of the deal. Had she?
“Can I ask you something, Nick?”
“Anything.”
“Why didn’t you and Jenna have children?”
The surprised reaction on his face told her he hadn’t expected the question to be so pointed and personal. He didn’t speak right away either. Maybe she’d crossed the line and this would be the end of those Twelve Days of Love.
“Jenna didn’t want children. She told me she did. After the first three years, we talked about it and I thought we were trying. Two years later she still hadn’t conceived. I insisted we both go to a doctor and get checked out. Everything was fine with me and supposedly her too. She told me that the doctor suggested we simply relax and it would happen when it was supposed to.” He stopped talking and laid his hands flat on the island counter.
He appeared to be in deep thought. His eyes narrowed and Eden sensed he was reliving something in his mind. A clouded look masked his face. Then suddenly he shook it off.
