And now the Graysons’ teenage daughter had run away. He knew things must have been pretty bad for the teen to leave and try to face life alone rather than stay and work it out with her parents. He prayed she would be all right.
“She’s just a kid, Dillon,” Donald said. “She has no idea about the crazies out there.”
Dillon felt his brother’s pain and had the sudden, but strong urge to call his boys. To hear their voices and make sure they were okay.
Donald proceeded to stretch out on the couch. “You mind if I crash here for a few? I don’t feel like driving home right now.”
Dillon cast a quick glance at his bedroom door again. What could he say? “Why don’t you crash in Calvin’s room?” he suggested casually. “The bed is much more comfortable.”
Donald shook his head and pulled one of the sofa pillows behind his head. “This is fine. I’ll just crash for a while then go home. You go back to bed. I’ll let myself out.”
After Donald was settled, Dillon strode back to his bedroom. Monique was awake and sitting up when he returned.
Her eyes were anxious. “Is something wrong?” she asked.
He locked the bedroom door and took quick strides to her, needing to hold her again. “It’s Donald,” he said, then proceeded to tell her. the story Donald had told him.
“That’s awful, Dillon.”
“I know,” he said. “She’s much too young to be out on her own.”
Monique wondered at the compassion in Dillon’s voice. He seemed genuinely concerned for the young girl. She wondered why he couldn’t see the similarities between her and the Grayson girl.
“Sometimes people have to make hard choices, Dillon,” she said. “Sometimes the risk of being on one’s own is better than the risk of staying.”
He looked down into her eyes and she knew he knew she’d been talking about herself. He squeezed her to him. “God, I was so worried about you,” he said, his voice full of pain. “I couldn’t believe you had left on your own. I just knew something awful had happened. I’ve never been so scared in all my life.”
She felt his pain and she hated that she’d inflicted it on him. “I’m sorry, Dillon.” She knew her words were inadequate, but they were all she had. “I’m so sorry that you had to go through that.”
He continued to hold her, but neither spoke. Though she was still in his arms, the tone of their time together had changed. The past had intruded upon them like a splash of cold water. She wondered if it would always be between them, or if they could somehow get past it. The fact that she was in his bed said that she hoped they could.
Her dreams and her demons were staring her in the face right now. The fact that Dillon still held her in his arms told her that the dream she’d long held of a life with him was possible. But she recognized that the demons that threatened to ruin any chance of that ever occurring hovered nearby. She tried to concentrate on the dream and ignore the demons. This time she would fight fate to the end to get what she wanted.
Hours later, Monique still lay in Dillon’s arms. She knew he was wide-awake even as she was. Too much was going on between them for either of them to sleep. She wanted to know what he was thinking, but she didn’t know how to start the painful discussion. She contented herself to rest in his arms.
A short while later, she heard movements in the outer room and concluded that Donald was leaving. The click of the front door confirmed it. She looked up at Dillon, intending to say something about Donald, but the barely contained passion in his eyes stopped all words.
“I need you,” he said as he’d said earlier in their evening together. “I need you so much.”
And then no words were necessary. He lowered his head to hers and took her mouth in a kiss that began with an acknowledgment of all that was uncertain between them. His tentativeness almost broke her heart. She pressed her hand against his chest and pushed him back on the bed. Her lips fought with his to control the kiss. His groan told her that he’d given in to her. In response, she proceeded to make love to his mouth while her hand paid homage to the contours of his perfect male body.
The kiss that had begun tentatively, now burned like brushfire between them. Dillon wrapped his hands in her hair and pressed her closer. Her body was flat against his from chest to thigh, and she loved the feel of him. Of her against him.
It was only natural that her body sought him and found him. When they merged in the way of lovers, the past was forgotten and they were one. If what they had now could only last, was Monique’s final thought before he transported her to their own personal paradise.
Chapter Fifteen
Dillon stared down into Monique’s contentedly sleeping face and decided to stop fighting. Her constant presence in his life made it impossible for him to ignore the potent attraction that flamed so brightly between them. And after making love with her, he knew any effort to fight that attraction would be futile.
Unable to resist the temptation that she presented, he leaned down and placed a light kiss against her sweet lips.
“Mmm,” she murmured, those enticing lips turned in a smile. “I like that.”
He sank down in the bed and pulled her closer in his embrace. “You stinker,” he said, “I thought you were asleep.”
She opened her eyes and they, too, were smiling. “I was.”
He patted her bare rump. “If you had been asleep, that little kiss would not have awakened you.”
Her eyes grew serious and dark. “It wasn’t the kiss that woke me.”
“What was it, then?”
She touched her palm to his cheek. “I felt you looking at me. That’s what woke me.”
He groaned, understanding the truth and the depth in her words. It was that connection that had always existed between them. It was still there, and both were powerless against it.
“What’s happening between us, Dillon?” she asked.
He increased the pressure of his arms around her. “I’m not sure.”
“You’re not?” He heard the skepticism in her voice.
“I don’t want to analyze it right now, Monique. I just want to go with it.” She didn’t say anything and he wondered where her thoughts were. “I want what’s between us and with the boys to continue. That’s all I know right now.”
Monique knew a lot more about her feelings than Dillon knew about his. She knew that she was as in love with him now as she’d been as a teenager. She even wondered if she didn’t love him more. She wasn’t the same needy teenager she’d been then. She was a grown woman. A woman with options. A woman who knew her worth as a person and who knew that men—many men—found her attractive. Dillon was her heart, but he was no longer her lifeline.
She peered into his eyes and the passion she saw there made fresh the memory of their night of lovemaking. Dillon might not want to talk about his feelings, but she knew he definitely had them. A man couldn’t make love to a woman the way he’d made love to her without some very strong affection for her. Maybe even a little love.
Monique also knew he wasn’t the kind of man to take a woman to his bed carelessly. Had he been, there would have been a woman in his life when she’d returned to town. But unless the single women in Elberton were blind and crazy, he’d been alone by choice. Surely that she was in his bed meant something even if Dillon wasn’t ready yet to voice it.
She smiled. “I’m hungry. You forced me to stay the night. Now aren’t you going to feed me?”
He playfully swatted her rear again, this time allowing his touch to end in a caress. “Forced you?”
She rolled out of his embrace. “You don’t play fair. You know that, don’t you?”
His long arm reached out and brought her back to him. “I play to win. To hell with fair.” He kissed her roughly across her mouth.
“Now, Dillon,” she chided when she could breathe again. “What would the boys say if they heard you talk that way?”
“If you’re thinking about the boys at a time like this, I must be doing
something wrong.”
He looked so hurt, Monique almost laughed. She placed her hand flat against his hard chest and followed with her mouth as she placed light kisses across his pecs. “You’re not doing anything wrong,” she said.
He groaned, then leaned back and dragged her across his body. Her breasts were pressed almost flat against his chest, and his mouth seemed to want to swallow hers. She loved it. She loved him.
“Dillon,” she said between kisses.
“Hmm.”
He caught her mouth in another long kiss, one that made her body tingle all over. “Dillon.” His name was a moan this time.
“Tell me what you want,” he ordered in a voice thick with need. “Tell me.”
Monique fought hard to gather her wits, but it was difficult with his hands seeming to touch her all over her body at the same time and his mouth seeming to want to explore every crevice of hers. This man would consume her if she allowed him.
“Tell me what you want, Monique,” he said again.
Though more than anything in the world, Monique wanted Dillon inside her again, she knew they couldn’t spend the rest of the day in bed. Her mind fought with her heart and body over that conclusion and her mind won. “I want…”
“Tell me,” he urged.
She accepted another kiss, then broke contact and propped her elbow on his chest. “I want bacon and eggs.”
She did laugh at the expression that crossed his face then. But before she finished her laugh, he’d rolled her over and sank himself deep into her body. In the end, neither of them was laughing.
On Monday morning, Dillon leaned against Monique’s open office door and. watched her mouth expletives at her computer. It felt good standing in her space and knowing that she wanted him there as much as he wanted to be there. “I don’t think that thing responds well to cursing.”
She spun around in her chair and gave him a grim smile. “Well, nothing else is working. I thought I’d give it a try.”
He pushed away from the door and walked toward her. “Want me to help?”
“Help yourself.” She got up and pointed to her chair. “I don’t think it likes me.”
He cast a quick glance at Monique’s door and seeing no one in the hallway, he planted a brief kiss across her lips. “You look adorable when you’re frustrated.” He smiled into her darkening eyes then took a seat, making a pretense of rolling up his sleeves. “Now let’s see what a man can do.”
She playfully slapped him across his shoulders. “You’re the reason Calvin and Glenn are such young chauvinists. Now, get this thing to work and stop being so macho.”
He looked up at her and wiggled his brows. “I thought you liked it when I got all macho.” He sucked in his breath at the passion that flared in her eyes. “Don’t look at me like that,” he cautioned.
She lowered her lashes and leaned back against her desk, not saying anything. His eyes traveled from her soft leather red pumps up her smooth, firm calves to just above her knees where her skirt stopped. Sighing, he looked into her eyes. “If only—” he started, then shook his head. He wanted her. Real bad. But there was nothing he could do about it now. He turned back to the computer.
“It was working fine. Then it just locked up on me. Do you think you can fix it?”
“No problem.” He hit the control-alt-delete sequence and rebooted the system.
Monique got up and leaned over his shoulder. “What are you doing?” she asked, her tone full of anxiety.
“I’m rebooting the system,” he explained calmly. “That’s a surefire way to end a lockup.”
“I could have done that, Dillon.” Her lips turned in a frown. “Now you’ve lost my file.”
“Oh, ye of little faith,” he said, shaking his head. “Now, would I lose your file?”
Her pert nose wrinkled in uncertainty. “You wouldn’t do it on purpose, but—”
“But nothing,” he said. “Now watch this.” He executed the program she’d had open when he rebooted the system. “See.” He pointed at the recovery file on the screen. “Is that your file?”
She leaned closer and her breasts brushed against his shoulder, causing his body to come to attention. She jumped away from him, obviously affected by their contact.
“Ah, let me see.”
As she studied the screen, Dillon studied her. He remembered every curve of her body because he’d touched every curve, kissed every curve and loved every curve. The memory of the two days they’d spent together over the weekend would always be with him. The first time he’d held her, he’d been a boy. A boy in love, yet still a boy. But this past weekend, he’d been a man. And while he hadn’t been in love—he no longer allowed himself that luxury—he’d felt deeply, even more deeply than he’d felt when he’d first loved her. There was something about Monique that would always bind him to her. It was his weakness, and he’d no longer fight it.
“So, is your file all there?” he asked, bringing his thoughts back to the present.
She turned back to him and gave him a smile that made his insides churn. “Yes, thank you, Dillon. You’ve saved my life.”
“Well,” he said. “I guess that means you owe me.”
She lifted a questioning brow. “I’m afraid to ask what your price is.”
“No need to be afraid. At least, not this time. I was just wondering if you and Glenn would have dinner with me and Calvin tonight. My house. I’m cooking.”
Monique smiled. “I’m not sure. Calvin doesn’t speak too highly of your culinary skills. Maybe you should offer to take us out to dinner instead.”
He shook his head. “No way. My house. And I prepare the dinner.” He didn’t know why it was so important, but he wanted her and his son in his house tonight.
“What are you cooking?”
“Does it matter?”
Her gaze met his. “Not really,” she said, and he was pleased that she didn’t pretend coyness. “What time do you want us there?”
“Why don’t I pick Glenn up at Ma’s? That way you can go home, change clothes and relax a little before coming over.”
She nodded. “Sounds good to me. I’ll get over around six or so. Is that okay?”
“Fine,” he said, walking to her door. He glanced in the hallway. Seeing no one, he closed and locked the door. In short strides, he was at her side. “I’ve got to touch you,” he said, brushing a kiss down her cheek.
“But—” she murmured.
“No buts.” He took her mouth in a kiss that left both of them wanting more. When he finally lifted his head, he brushed his thumb across her lips. “I had to do that.”
She nodded understanding.
“I missed you last night,” he whispered. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to sleep in that bed again without thinking about you. And wanting you.”
“Dillon,” she pleaded, her eyes bright with passion.
“Okay, I’ll stop now, but only because we’re at work. Tonight all bets will be off.”
Her eyes widened. “The boys, Dillon.”
He tapped her nose with his finger. “I’m not going to ravish you on the dining room table,” he assured her.
She frowned. “Why, thanks. Now I feel a lot better.”
He strode to her door and unlocked it. “Don’t worry so much. The four of us will have fun tonight. I promise you.”
It was exactly six o’clock when Monique pulled into Dillon’s driveway. They were playing with some other boys in the neighborhood. This was the life she’d wanted for her son. He was happy here. And Calvin was happy with him.
The two boys left their friends and met her at the car, both talking at the same time. She gave each one an ear and tried to understand what they were talking about She gathered it had something to do with Dillon’s plans to take them camping.
“Camping?” she asked.
“Yeah, Mom,” Glenn said. “It’s gonna be great. We’re going to sleep outside and cook on a fire and everything.”
“You are, ar
e you?” The boys’ enthusiasm was evident by their bright eyes and fast-moving lips. “Are you inviting me to come along on this trip?”
Calvin looked at Glenn, who said, “Aw, Mom, you’re a girl.”
Somehow that response didn’t surprise her. She shook her head, thinking she and Dillon were going to have to have a very long talk about the roles of boys and girls. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”
The boys shrugged, then ran back to their friends. She shook her head again and headed for the front door. She knocked, but when no one answered, she opened the door and let herself in. As soon as she stepped across the threshold, the memory of the nights she’d spent here with Dillon filled her mind. A warm flutter started in her stomach and moved throughout her body. She felt good being here. Right, almost.
“Hey, I didn’t hear you come in,” Dillon said when she entered the kitchen. The sight of him in his jeans, sweatshirt and white apron tickled her. She’d bet more men than women wore aprons these days.
“I let myself in when you didn’t answer,” she said, taking a seat at the round dinette table. “It smells good. What is it?”
He flashed her a smile. “It does smell good, doesn’t it? It’s lasagna. My own special recipe.”
“Not bad,” she said, then paused for effect. “For a man.”
He pressed a hand to his chest in mock offense. “You wound me. Why would you say something like that?”
She shook her head at his antics. “Dillon, we’ve got to do something about Glenn and Calvin. They’re turning into little chauvinists. At first, I thought it was only natural that they wanted to spend time alone with you. After all, they’re little boys and aren’t yet interested in girls. But now I’m beginning to get worried. I don’t want them to grow up thinking there are things women can’t do.”
Dillon pulled out a chair next to her and sat down. His face turned serious. “What happened?”
She placed her hand atop his to ease his worry, and he entwined their fingers. His strength and his warmth flowed to her, and she was comforted even as she sought to comfort him. “It’s nothing really serious. At least not yet.”
Second Chance Dad Page 15
