A Small-Town Reunion (15 page)

She shifted her hand, turning her palm up to lace her fingers through his, and squeezed back.

He shifted closer, leaning in to place another kiss along her jaw, and she moved her head to the side so he’d linger. “What’s next?” he murmured.

“Everything behind the screen.” She led him around the edge of the folding wooden frame and gestured with her goblet at her bedroom area. “The dresser. The armoire—standing in for the missing closet. The trunk that holds everything that won’t fit anywhere else. The bathroom, behind that plywood wall.”

“And the tub.” He let go of her hand to skirt the foot
of her bed and stare at the claw-foot tub angled across one corner of the room. Old-fashioned plumbing rose to shower height and formed one section of a ring supporting a plain white curtain. “Cool.”

“Yes.” She finished her wine and set her glass on her nightstand. “Very cool, after about fifteen minutes, when the hot water runs out.”

“And this is the bed,” he said.

“Yes.” She raised her hand to her neckline and unfastened one button with trembling fingers. “And this is the end of the tour.”

He emptied his glass, lowered it to the stack of old crates in the corner and stood, staring at her across the expanse of rumpled quilts. She recognized the reflection of her own nerves in his jerky swallow and flickering gaze, and the thought that she’d unsettled him gave her the reckless courage to undo another button.

“What about dinner?” he asked, staring at the gap in her shirt.

“Are you hungry?”

She reached up to unfasten one of the clips in her hair, and he lifted his hands, palms out.

“Stop,” he said. “Just…
stop
.”

She froze, gripping a plastic butterfly, iced through with mortification. She’d known she’d be clumsy at this. She’d never seduced a man before, and it had been a major mistake to try the trick now, when every move, every word, mattered so very much.

Dev moved around the bed and pried her fingers from the clip. “Let me do that,” he whispered.

D
EV HAD INTENDED TO
take things slow. He’d meant to savor every moment of this first time with Addie—had made big plans for a memorable scene—but his hands were shaking, and his knees were knocking, and his breath was backing up in his lungs. He was afraid she’d drive him stark, raving mad with her innocent striptease. There was only so much a man could take.

“I love your hair,” he said as he pulled out the clips. He shoved his hands along her scalp and combed his fingers through to the ends. “Promise you’ll never cut it.”

“I have to keep it trimmed. And besides,” she added, frowning, “that’s not your decision to make.”

“You’re right.” He framed her face in his hands and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. “I lost my head.” And another to her cheek. “I can get a little crazy—” and another to the tip of her nose “—on home tours. Especially when there are antiques involved.”

“Do you like antiques?”

“Yes.” He slid his hands down her shoulders and reached for the next button on her shirt. “Very much.”

He worked his way down, grazing her stomach with his knuckles and smiling at her shivers, until he slid the last button through the last hole. He swept her shirt
over her shoulders and down to the floor. “Beautiful,” he murmured, tracing the edges of her bra with his fingertips, teasing her with touches that meandered over cotton and lace and skin. “I knew you’d be beautiful.”

“Dev.”

“Hmm?”

“The bed’s an antique.”

He grinned. “That sound you just heard was my control snapping.”

He tugged the hem of his shirt over his head, and her hands streaked over his chest, grasping and kneading before he’d untangled his arms from the sleeves. He drew her against him, desperate for the feel of flesh against flesh, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, giving him what he wanted. He tipped her to the side, and she took him with her, and they laughed when they fell with a bounce onto her bed.

She scrambled over him, straddling his hips, and raised her arms like a pagan goddess to lift her hair above her head. And then she leaned forward, letting it fall in a silky curtain around his face as he cupped her breasts in his hands. “Beautiful,” he said.
“Addie.”

Her busy hands attacked the fastenings at the front of his jeans, and he arched up, knocking her to the side, to tug a foil packet from his back pocket. She rolled back into his arms, and he crushed her lips with his, sinking into a mindless pleasure. Hands stroked, teeth nipped and someone—he thought it might have been him—groaned.

“Let’s get inside,” she murmured against his mouth in her siren’s voice.

“That’s the plan.”

“I meant inside the sheets.”

“That’ll work, too.”

They scooted off her rumpled quilt, drew back the layers of covers and shimmied out of their pants in a frantic race. She kicked off her sandals, and he hopped on one foot, wrestling with one of his shoes and nearly knocking over her nightstand when he lost his balance. “Remind me to buy a pair of flip-flops,” he said as he climbed into bed with her and pulled the sheet over their bodies.

“I forgot to get a good look,” he said after she’d snuggled close again.

“That’ll teach you.”

“I knew you’d figure out a way to give me detention.” He shifted to sprawl over her. “Guess I’ll just have to find my way by feel.”

She smiled as she lifted her hands to cradle his face. “That’ll work, too.”

“Addie.” He lowered his head, trying to show her with one kiss what this night meant to him. “There’s so much I want to say.”

“I know.” She raised a knee, rubbing her soft foot along his leg. “I feel the same way.” She trailed her fingers up and down his spine. “I thought I’d be shy with you, but I’m not.”

“Was it the dinner?” He brushed his lips over one perfect, rosy nipple. “The candlelight?” He ran his tongue around the other one. “The wine?”

She gasped and shook her head. “No. It was when you finished your project and turned it over, and there was a piece of paper still stuck to one of your glass pieces.”

He stilled. “Is this your new method of leveling the playing field?”

Her soft laugh was a warm vibration beneath his chest. He covered her mouth with his and began to concentrate on the serious part of the evening. Yes, he had a lot to say, with the glide of his hand down her back and the stroke of his tongue along her lips. And she answered, with a soft sigh of surrender and a flowing ripple of delight.

Somewhere outside, a siren wailed through the night, and the evening shadows grew together into darkness as her mantel clock ticked off the seconds. Her pillows smelled of flowers, like her hair, and she tasted of wine and womanly secrets. He breathed deeply, and tasted deeply, and still couldn’t get his fill of the woman in his arms. He suspected he never would.

Everything between them tonight seemed new and fresh, and yet somehow part of an old, familiar pattern. They rubbed along together, searching and exploring and straining for their perfect fit, their own click of connection. He slid inside her, as easy as an old friend and as fervent as a new lover. She arched up, taking him deeper, welcoming him in, welcoming him home.

So good, so right.

A
DDIE SAT ACROSS FROM
Dev on her bed near midnight, both of them cross-legged and partially wrapped in her sheet. They’d feasted on the antipasto—sharing a few bites with Dilly—and reminisced about school days and summer vacations. She’d told him about her desire to travel, and he’d told her about some of the places he’d seen. And then they’d made love again, a fast, plunging roller coaster of pleasure and joy that had left them tangled in the quilts, laughing and breathless and sated…for the moment.

She finished her second slice of pizza and began to lick her fingers clean.

“Here,” Dev said, pulling her hand to his mouth. “Let me get that for you.” He sucked on her fingers, tickling them with his tongue. And then he kissed her fingertips, her palm and her wrist before shoving her hand back into her lap and taking another bite of his own pizza slice.

She smiled and grabbed the second bottle from the bucket propped on the mattress. “More?”

He reached behind him to retrieve his goblet from the nightstand, and she dribbled the rest of the wine into his glass. “I wish we could have been together,” she said. “Before, when we were in school.”

“Like this?” He frowned. “We were kids. We still had a lot of growing up to do—I did, anyway.” He gave her one of his long-lashed gazes, the thoughtful kind of expression that was on her list of top-ten favorites. “We might have ruined what we have now.”

She rested her elbows on her knees and folded her hands beneath her chin, cherishing the fact that they had a
now
to share. And that Dev could shift so easily from passion to philosophy and back again. He was an endlessly fascinating man. “Or we might have skipped all the lost times in between,” she said.

He shrugged and took another bite. “We’ll never know.”

She sighed and stretched out on her side, facing him. “I don’t mind not knowing.”

“You don’t?”

“Does that surprise you?”

“Nothing about you surprises me anymore.” He carefully scooped the rest of their things into the
bucket, placed it on the floor and crawled across the bed to sprawl over her in his artless, effective way.

“Now there’s a phrase with more than one interpretation,” she said as she stroked his hair from his eyes.

“We could discuss the possibilities in a different location.” He dropped one of his sweet kisses on the tip of her nose. “Want to find out whether that tub of yours is big enough for two?”

A
S DAWN ADDED TRACES
of pastel to the gray shadows in Addie’s room on Friday, Dev lay beside her, his chin in his hand, watching her sleep. He’d considered waking her an hour ago for one last, leisurely round of lovemaking, but he’d decided she needed her rest. She had a full day of work ahead of her. And they’d had a very busy night.

And he was content to lie here, watching her. For the first time in his life, he hadn’t awakened with restless dissatisfaction with what he had to do that day or where he happened to be at that moment. He was exactly where he wanted to be and doing exactly what he’d always been meant to do—loving Addie Sutton.

The process of falling for her had been so gradual he couldn’t have seen it if he’d looked. And so inevitable he couldn’t have escaped it if he’d tried. As simple as breathing, as difficult as life could sometimes be. From the moment he’d first seen the fascinating little girl to the moment he’d finally taken the bewitching woman into his arms—every moment had been leading to the next. To this one, here, with her. To love.

Nothing part-time for Dev Chandler anymore, he thought with a stupid, sappy grin. He’d talk with Geneva about a long-term stay in her guest house, and
he’d start looking for a job here in the Cove. He didn’t need the money, but he needed to be a permanent part of the place.

The room lightened another degree, and he skimmed a finger down the miniature ski slope of Addie’s nose.

“Mmph.” She moaned and rubbed her nose, opening her eyes. “What? What are you doing?”

“Waking you up.” He shifted closer, tossing his leg over hers, and she snuggled against him, all warm and pillowy. “I should go soon,” he said. “My car’s still parked out in front of your shop.”

She stiffened. “I don’t suppose there’s any point in worrying about that now?”

“Probably not.”

She rolled onto her back with a sigh and stared at her ceiling. “I’m awake now.”

“Good. Because there’s something I want to ask you.”

“Out to breakfast?”

“Sorry.” He combed his fingers through her hair, arranging it over her pillow. “I have to drive out to the bluff to take care of Geneva’s dogs.”

“And I should clean up my shop and get ready for work.”

“Okay, then.” He paused, trying to swallow. Asking a girl for a date shouldn’t dry up all his spit like this—especially when he was in bed with her. “There’s this dance on Saturday night. I want you to come with me.”

The look of shock on her face nearly made him wince. “Are you asking me out?”

“I thought we could give it a try.” He lifted a
shoulder in a casual shrug. “If it works, we could go steady.”

“We’re not—”

“Friends? Lovers? A couple?” He leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to her lips. And another, just because he could—and to prove his point. “Maybe it’s time to make some changes.”

She smiled and slid a hand behind his head, pulling him close for a kiss of her own. “Maybe we should take things one step at a time.”

“We’re doing okay so far, aren’t we?” He traced her lower lip with a finger. “Besides, we won’t know unless we give it a shot.”

“All right. I’d love to go out with you on Saturday night.” She smiled and nipped at his fingertip. “Where’s the dance?”

“At The Breakers.”

She stiffened again.

“It’s the anniversary dance,” he said. “Not a ball, really, but—”

“Very dressy.”

“Yeah. Kind of.” He hadn’t packed a suit, he realized with a frown. He hoped he could find one on short notice.

He shoved his way through the tangle of quilts on her bed and grabbed his jeans from the floor. And then he leaned back to take her in his arms and kiss her some more because he still couldn’t get enough of her, although he sure enjoyed trying to. “Addie?”

“Yes?”

“Remember when I said last night that nothing you do surprises me anymore?”

“Yes.”

“I was wrong.” He kissed her again. “You snore.”

D
EV RAISED A HAND
in greeting Friday afternoon as Geneva strode across the tarmac with the other shuttle passengers, heading toward the tiny airport’s arrival gate. She adjusted the shoulder strap on her tote and responded with a smile. She looked happy and rested, he noted as she drew near. And he was incredibly happy to see her.

But then, he was incredibly happy with everything today.

He moved to one side of the small patio cordoned off from the tarmac with a low chain-link fence and waited until she’d passed through the gate. And then he stepped forward, wrapped his arms around her and hugged her tightly, lifting her off the ground and swinging her in a circle.

“Well.” She wrestled a smile under control and patted her hair, after he’d set her down, though he’d come nowhere near to mussing her upswept roll. “You certainly seem to be in high spirits this afternoon.”

“Sorry about the PDA.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Public display of affection.”

She smiled. “I think I like that acronym.”

“Want another?”

She laughed and took his arm. “And here I thought you’d be growling after having been forced to spend time with my dogs.”

“They aren’t so bad.”

“Not when someone else is looking after them, you mean.”

He grinned. “I should have known you’d check up on me.”

“Yes, you should have.”

They followed the other passengers through a door into a narrow reception area. At one end, a short luggage carousel belt began a rumbling turn through the room and out again.

“I remember when they used to set our luggage on a bicycle rack near that same spot.” Geneva smiled. “This is one more improvement Carnelian Cove can boast of.”

“You love it here,” he said.

“I have since I first saw this place.” She searched his face. “You love it, too. Even though you’re always in a hurry to leave.”

“Yeah.” He glanced at the wall behind her—a mural of a fanciful Victorian farmhouse tucked beneath a redwood grove, dark ocean cliffs and white foamy waves in the background. “It’s a special place.”

“So it’s not the place you’re escaping. It’s the people.”

“Is that one of your bags?” At her nod, he squeezed past the small knot of passengers to lift it from the belt, glad he’d had an excuse to avoid answering her question. How could he make her understand he’d been escaping himself, too? Escaping his inability to earn his father’s notice, escaping his forbidden attraction to Addie.