Forcing herself to relax, she leaned back in her chair. Hadn’t she promised herself that she wouldn’t allow him to run her off anymore? So she had to stay. And she couldn’t help it if she checked him out. Any woman would.
His bare feet stretched out before him, strong and sturdy, looking for all the world as if they would run over hot coals to save his woman if they needed to. Soft, faded jeans covered his legs. She was pretty sure those were jeans he wouldn’t wear out in public, as they caressed him a little too snugly in places. He might be built as if he didn’t work behind a desk and demand hundreds of dollars per hour in front of a judge, but that didn’t mean he’d show up in public underdressed. And as already noted, above the waist … he wore nothing.
The moon was nowhere to be found, so she couldn’t enjoy the view to the fullest, but it wasn’t as if she’d ever forgotten what he looked like without a shirt. Nor what he’d felt like.
She’d gotten reminded of that a couple nights ago as she’d clung to him in the water.
He was hard. Ripped. Everywhere.
And she suddenly wanted another drink.
“I spilled my wine,” she murmured, straddling the chair on her way to standing up. She was not quite steady on her feet but not what she’d call shaky, either. “I’m getting some more.” She stepped just inside her room before pausing. “You want a glass?”
They’d once sat together on the small deck of their Boston apartment in the evenings, drinking wine and enjoying the end of the day. Only they’d always drunk from the same glass.
“No, thanks,” he said.
She disappeared into the room without another word, quickly shedding her wet pajamas and tugging back on the shorts and T-shirt she’d recently discarded. She glanced down at her obvious lack of a bra but decided she didn’t care. It was after midnight, and she didn’t want to be bound. A woman had a right to sit on her own deck however she wanted.
She topped off her wine and headed back outside. When he saw that she’d changed, his glance lingered on her chest before he lifted his eyes to hers.
“You made me spill my wine on my bottoms,” she said. “I couldn’t very well sit out here like that.”
He nodded and she slipped back into her seat. What was she doing? She should run him off, or better yet, run back into her own room. She should not be sitting out there like she was. It was too personal. Too much like the old days. Yet sitting there was exactly what she wanted to be doing, so she stayed. Because she was a glutton for punishment.
He finally spoke. “Thought we could talk a little.”
“Probably it would be better to just sit. And then you’ll need to go find your room.”
“This is my room.”
“No, it’s not.” She scooted her chair around so she could see him better, then curled over onto her side. She took another sip before resting her head against the vinyl strips of the chair. The sound of the rain soothed her. “Mr. and Mrs. Masterson will be in that room when they arrive.”
They were a couple in their eighties who were unlikely to do anything at all to cause her any distress.
“The other room is bigger,” Mark said. He rested his hands in his lap, clasping them together, his thumbs tapping out a slow rhythm against each other. Her gaze locked on the movement. “And there are two of them,” he continued. “Me taking this room makes more sense.”
“That’s a load of crap,” she said, her voice a soft whisper. “You took it just to screw with me.” She did not need him on the other side of her wall.
He turned his head, his eyes laughing, then reached out and took her wine. “Screw with you, huh? When did you develop such a potty mouth?”
She shrugged. A little wine and Mark in close proximity, and there was no telling what she might come out with next.
A couple drinks later he handed back her glass. “You should have brought out the bottle.”
“I should have brought you your own glass.”
The broad slash of his mouth turned up in a curve and Andie realized it was the first time she’d seen him smile since he’d arrived. And of course, her temperature shot off toward the sun.
“Would it upset you if I told you that your aunt Ginny was the one who let me move into this room?”
She most definitely should be upset. But the wine was doing its job. She was more relaxed than anything. And she couldn’t say that she was surprised, either. Ginny had been sufficiently mad on her behalf when the wedding hadn’t happened, but Andie had always sensed that she’d understood something about Mark that she’d never shared. Though who knew what that might be. “Why would she do that? She should be busy hating you like I do.”
“
Awww.
” He blew her a kiss before stealing her wine again. “You don’t hate me, sunshine. And neither does Ginny.”
“I do too hate you.” She squinted again, as if that would help her brain focus. “And why’d you just call me sunshine?”
He shifted in his chair until he was lying on his side, mimicking her position. “Because for some reason the days have seemed brighter this week. I credit that with you.”
With the soft rain and the dark night surrounding them, it felt as if they were tucked away in a cave.
“That makes no sense,” she said. She took back the glass, but it was empty, so she shot him a frown. “Really? You show up uninvited and drink all my wine? Rude.”
Before she could rise to go for a refill, he took the glass from her and walked straight into her room. He didn’t flip on any lights — as if he’d been there a hundred times before and knew his way around — and she busied herself with watching his butt move under the denim. Appeared to still be in nice shape. And firm. Then she rolled her eyes.
Sheesh!
She really should not be out there with him. Wine and dirty thoughts were doing nothing but telling her libido that it was winning this round.
When he returned he handed her the glass and set the bottle on the ground beside her. “And for the record, you don’t hate me, either. Your kiss the other night said otherwise.”
“That was a good-bye kiss.” She kept her eyes on him until he was back in his seat, half-afraid he was going to push the point and try to kiss her again. Between her hormones and the wine, she suspected she would let him. And if those abs didn’t quit catching her attention, she might even start it. “Did you forget that?”
“I didn’t forget.” He turned to her, his strong face clear in the darkness, with the smallest glimmer of humor coloring his features. “I just didn’t buy it.”
“Well, you might as well get on board, because this train is leaving without you.” She closed her eyes and thunked the side of her head against the chair. What in the hell had that meant? She rolled to her back and let out a long, weary sigh while Mark chuckled beside her.
“Can’t hold your wine these days, babe?”
“I can hold it fine. I just skipped dinner.”
“Ah.” With that he reached over and took the glass from her once again. “Maybe I should finish it for you, then.”
“No. Give it back.” She reached out, intent on not letting her good buzz go anywhere, but he caught her wrist with one hand and held it up high in the air. The playfulness disappeared from his gaze.
“I’ve done a lot of thinking these last couple of days,” he said. “I suspect you have, too.”
“Have you?” She wiggled her fingers in the direction of the glass, wanting desperately to break the mood he was trying to create. And no way was she going to admit that she’d done a lot of thinking, too. “About how to steal a woman’s wine and get away with it?”
He brought the glass to her mouth then, her hand still caught in his, and she quit moving. He tilted it so she could take a drink, and she watched him over the rim as the clear, cool liquid slid down her throat. His eyes never left her lips.
When he pulled the glass back, he took another sip, licked his lips, then set it on the ground between them. He lowered her hand to his lap and caressed his thumb along the center of her palm.
Finally he admitted, “It scares me. This thing between us. I’d rather it was gone for good.”
She nodded. Her, too. Since it wasn’t, there was the constant fear she’d screw up and get her heart broken again. And that had been no fun at all the first time around.
“But it is there,” he said. “Whatever it is. And I came to a decision about it earlier today.”
She caught the intent in his eyes and quickly shook her head, panic flaring to life inside her. She did not want to hear that decision.
When he only smiled in reply, she shook her head again. More deliberate this time. “No,” she whispered. It came out like a plea.
He chuckled and ran a finger down her cheek. “Yes.”
She closed her eyes, then shivered as she felt the heat of him hover near her.
He whispered directly into her ear. “I don’t think it should be good-bye yet.”
Fuck
,” Andie murmured, and Mark laughed out loud.
“Shhh,” she whispered, pointing to the deck above them. “Mr. Jordan already saw us out in the water the other night. Don’t you dare let him realize you’re down here with me right now.”
He looked up. “He saw us?”
She nodded, not looking pleased, but Mark couldn’t help the smile.
“Bet he liked it.” Who wouldn’t like seeing Andie all wet?
“No, he did not. And I’m pretty sure his wife isn’t speaking to me.”
He laughed again, but at her stern look covered his mouth with his hand. When he did, their eyes met and they both seemed to return to his statement about their kiss not being good-bye.
The tight, annoyed look on her face would be funny, except it wasn’t. They had some kind of ridiculous chemistry between them.
“It’s too late,” she said. “It was good-bye, Mark. Really.”
“It didn’t feel like it.”
The way she’d clung to his body had felt like the sweetest woman he’d ever known, coming darn close to falling apart in his arms. And it had felt amazing.
She remained silent, so he reached out and grabbed her lounge chair, yanking it over to his. He shot her an apologetic grimace when the move knocked over the glass between their two chairs, followed by the unmistakable sound of glass shattering. He owed her a wineglass. Probably should throw in a bottle of wine while he was at it. Leaning in, he got close enough to smell the alcohol on her breath.
“You going to tell me it honestly felt like good-bye to you, Andie?” He stroked along her neck, dipping his thumb to the pulse at the base of her throat. It was not beating slowly. “Because if so, I’d be willing to wager that you’d take another good-bye right now.”
“What it felt like was two people who once knew how to kiss each other, who …” She paused, and he felt her throat rise and fall with a swallow. She twisted her hand, which still rested in his, and freed herself but didn’t pull back. “Who … apparently needed to kiss and get it out of their system. And they needed to kiss
good-bye
.”
He grinned. He’d always been able to fluster her. The wine seemed to be helping, too. Plus, she was cute when she drank. “Then how about we kiss good-bye for the next two weeks?”
“No.” Her eyes rounded. “Why would we do that?”
He pushed an errant strand of hair back behind her ear, and knowing she wasn’t wearing a bra, forced himself not to lower his gaze to her T-shirt. But he couldn’t keep from leaning in and whispering in her ear, “Because it would be …
So. Much. Fun.
”
She shoved him, and he allowed her to put space between them but didn’t let her get up and walk away. He wanted to discuss this. It could be exactly what they both needed.
“Okay, serious,” he said. “Here it is. From what I’m guessing we’re both unattached?”
He left it as a question, and as he sat there waiting, she finally looked away from him and made a face but gave a little nod.
“Good.” He nodded, too, then turned her back to him. “And I suspect we both could stand a break from working so hard. I’m here, you’re here — we both know how good it could be between us.” He shrugged, hoping she was buying his casual tone. “No strings attached. Why not?”
Those eyes that still had a way of getting to him — even today — blinked, and then scanned slowly down over him as if she were trying to determine if he was worth spending her free time with. She’d already checked him out once when she’d first realized he was on the deck with her, but this time was different. This time it was as if she was viewing him as a potential bed partner. As he watched her gaze inch down his body, the jeans he wore became tight.
Maybe a two-week, nostrings affair was just what he needed to push her from his mind and finally move on. Because he couldn’t go back to Boston still thinking about her.
Finally, she opened her mouth and shocked him with the words that came out. “Because you already know how to maneuver the landscape?”
He cringed. “Where did that come from?”
She turned away and crossed her arms over her chest. “Rob told me he suggested you
maneuver my landscape
while you’re here.”
“Awww, that’s just wrong. You should know I never listen to Rob when it comes to women. The guy has the couth of a caveman.” He reached out and nudged her face back around to his. “No, sunshine,” he whispered, shocked at the amount of feeling in the words. “This has nothing to do with Rob. It’s just between you and me. And I think we need to let this play out.”
She nibbled on her bottom lip, her nervousness clear on her face.
He tried reminding himself that she’d only wanted him for his name. That she’d worked so much she’d barely even remembered he was there. But none of it mattered.
He wanted her naked, and he wanted her in his bed.
And he was pretty sure he wasn’t going to stop until he got her there.
“I came out here tonight to make a list of all the men I’m going to ask out over the next few weeks,” Andie admitted.
That caught him off guard. He jerked himself back, putting distance between them. A hot flare of an emotion he didn’t want to acknowledge lit inside him. Though she’d likely dated plenty of men since they’d been together, the thought of her going out with someone else suddenly irritated the hell out of him.