Authors: Hope Navarre
He squeezed her to him, hugging her with his free arm. “I don't know. You feel rather solid to me.”
She laughed. “You are a funny man, Mr. Chapman.”
“Laughter has gotten me through some rough spots.”
She could only imagine. His life must have been stressful as a kid. He could have gone the other way. Become jaded, mistrusting, resentful. But no. He decided to be a caregiver. That spoke volumes for the man's character. And here he was, new in town, hadn't even settled into his home and was taking his free time to make sure she was okay. She had to tell him her story. It was her turn to confide.
CHAPTER NINE
T
HE
SOUND
OF
the
breeze moving the leaves of the oak trees that surrounded the house soothed Cassie. Standing in the darkness while Peter opened his door, she took a moment to close her eyes and listen. Amazing how nature could calm her. She'd always found that the sound of the ocean waves hitting the beach could wash away her stressâwhen she took the time to listen.
Yet, that same soul-calming water had stolen Kyle. She'd never forgiven the sea for being so cruel. She had yet to step foot on a boat since that time, and she only started swimming again a few years ago. But right now, she felt as if the whispering breeze through the trees was Kyle whispering to her that everything was going to be all right.
She opened her eyes. Peter was studying her, curiosity etched on his brow.
“Are you okay?”
She managed a smile. “I will be.”
“Come in. I want to hear what you have to say.”
He switched on the light. The room was tidy, the couch still the only furniture in the living room. His surfboards stood against the empty wall near the hallway. He led her to the dining room and pulled out a chair for her.
He lifted the bag of food. “Your mother is sweet.” He put the food on a plate and popped it into the microwave.
“She didn't want you to miss your home-cooked meal.”
Peter smiled, then took a breath. “I get why you're concerned about the biopsy tomorrow. You have a history of cancer in your family, which has to be a worry.” He paused, sending her tender understanding in a glance. “Is there more?”
His softly spoken question thawed the chill she felt every time Kyle entered her awareness. Peter touched her with words without laying a hand on her. Powerful. Could she trust him?
That would be wonderful. She'd never given her full trust to just one person, except perhaps her mother, but she'd learned from watching her family and the families in this small, intimate community that safety came by working as a unit.
The locals guarded each other from calamity. It was a tradition passed down since Lion Gardiner had settled among the Montauk Indians in the 1600s. Women from every generation lost their men to war, to the sea. Cassie had suffered that pain before she and Kyle ever had the chance to explore the depths of their love. Spreading trust and affection to a network of folks left fewer chances to have a heart completely broken. Someone was always there to help rebuild a damaged spirit.
She'd seen it with Mom when she was ill.
She'd seen it with Dad while watching his wife battle death.
Could she explain this to Peter?
As if reading her mind, he reached for both her hands. “Go on. I'm listening.”
The microwave beeped. She waited until he retrieved the lasagna.
He placed the microwave dish on the table and folded his arms across his chest.
She gestured to the plate. “Eat.”
“It's too hot. I want to hear your story. Please.”
She blew out a breath. “Okay. The other day when you said my not dating sounded like a broken heart, you were correct.”
He gave her his complete attention. “What happened?”
“I was in love with my high school sweetheart. His name was Kyle, and we were engaged. He went with my Dad's crew on a fishing run. Kyle never came back.”
“My God, Cassie.”
Tears filled her eyes as they always did when she relived the pain. Kyle's loss had dulled over the years, but never enough. “They were doing a haul out in the canyons. A bad nor'easter hit. Washed Kyle off the deck of the boat. They couldn't get to him. His waders sank him pretty quickly.”
Tears silently spilled down her face, blurring her vision. Before she knew what was happening, Peter had scooped her up and carried her to the couch. He pulled her into his lap, wrapping her in his arms.
She wiped her tears, smelling the salty, musky essence she was rapidly coming to know as his. Alive. Warm. Within reach. He held her gaze with a depth of heart like she'd never seen. Peter was solid. Instinct told her he'd experienced enough trauma in his life that he refused to allow it in his world any longer. She needed that.
“Losing your boyfriend must have been devastating, Cass. How did you handle it?”
She laid a hand over her wildly beating heart. “I'm still learning to deal with it. I can hardly talk with his mother without us both getting choked up.
“Kyle and I wanted to have a family. Grow old together. He wasn't even sure he wanted to be a fisherman.” She let out a hoarse laugh. “He wanted to be an accountant, for God's sake.”
Peter held her tighter. She wrapped her arms around his neck, grateful for his understanding. “I'm afraid to love again after feeling so much hurt. And now that I've met you, emotions I've never known are rising to the surface. What if I was to fall in love with you only to lose you? Or worse, what if I die and leave you empty like Kyle left me? Either way, it's a hell neither of us deserves.”
He brushed her cheek with the back of his hand. “I think I understand. As time passes, it sometimes seems safer to stay true to a memory than risk losing love again.”
She stiffened, unsure. “Safer?”
“Sure. Think about it.”
She relaxed her shoulders, honoring the truth in his statement. “Easier, for sure. Once you build a wall, it's easier to stay behind it.” Cassie tilted her head, studying Peter's forehead and tracing the hint of his scar with the pad of her thumb. “Until you drove into Montauk in that big truck of yours. I haven't been the same since.”
“I've never been so grateful for a car accident in my life.” Peter brushed a curl off her shoulder, the light touch sending chills over her body.
“Why?” She sounded breathless to her own ears.
He shook his head. “You captured my heart from the first glance. I don't know what it is, but I can't get you out of my mind. All I want to do is touch you, talk to you, be with you.”
Cassie pressed her lips together, not wanting to reveal the depth of her attraction for him, though his honesty demanded it. His strength lay in daring vulnerability, a willingness to take rejection.
She laid a hand on his chest. “You make me feel things I've never felt before, not even with Kyle.”
He rested his forehead against hers. “I won't hurt you.”
“How do I know?”
He smoothed her hair and cupped the nape of her neck. Desire and hunger filled his gaze, setting her pulse racing. He whispered, “Trust me, Cassie.”
* * *
T
HE
DRIVE
THAT
Peter
felt to keep Cassie safe in his arms practically overwhelmed him. His chest ached with compassion for Cassie's suffering, her heartbreak and, worse, how her pain had formed her core belief about love. Sure, he and Gil had hunkered down and protected each other through their childhood and formative years, but they always had each other. For him, girlfriends came and went. Broke his heart now and again, but nothing as earth-shattering as losing a lover to the sea and not even being able to bring his body home.
An indescribable surge of promise filled him when, through the last of her tears, Cassie managed to smile when he asked her to trust him. She whispered, “Okay. Let's see where we go with this crazy attraction of ours.”
Slowly, his mouth descended toward hers. “I want to lose myself in your kisses, Cassie. I want to make love with you.”
She caught a breath. “What if we're making a mistake?”
He pulled her tighter against him. Making sure every ounce of his desire was reflected in his answer, he said, “Believe me when I tell you that loving you is a very good idea.”
A small tremble crossed her lips, but she lifted her face, her gaze focused on his mouth. He didn't wait for her to reply, and teased her mouth with a gentle brush of his lips. Sipping. Tasting. Her lips were soft, warm, giving. Salty from her tears. Oh, God he wanted more.
Capturing her face with his palms, he deepened the kiss. The press of her mouth against his, the hunger in the way she returned his kiss, shot all thought from his head. She smelled great. Tasted amazing. Her tongue wreaked havoc on his senses as she tightened her hold around his neck, meeting his deep kisses with a want of her own.
With Cassie in his arms, he lay back on the couch. She didn't resist. Instead, she turned into him, not breaking the kiss. A small sigh rose in her throat as he pulled her closer, molded her body to his in the narrow, cramped space. She felt perfect in his arms.
He broke the kiss and waited until she opened her eyes. The need he saw reflected in that sky-blue gaze melted his heart.
“Peter...”
He smoothed her hair. “If you make love like you kiss, Cassie, I'm a goner. Please don't break my heart.”
She slowly shook her head. “What is this between us? We hardly know each other.”
“I know.” He released a slow, steady breath. This was all happening so very fast, but like a runaway train, he couldn't stop. He had to know this woman more and more and more.
“Will you promise me something?”
She bit her lip. “Promises are dangerous.”
“This one will be easy.”
She wrapped one leg over his, nuzzling closer as if they'd been intertwined their entire lives. The small smile that broke on her lips gunned straight for his groin.
She whispered, “Ask away.”
He tapped her chin. “Promise to always be honest with me. Talk to me. Let me know what you're thinking. Let's be careful with each other because I can promise you that I've already fallen for you. Hard.”
Her smile widened. “That is very good news.”
He kissed her. “Promise me.”
She released a long breath. “I can promise to be honest with you. Always. It's how I operate.”
He caressed her side. “I've been imagining you naked since first laying eyes on you.”
She chuckled. “Now that's being honest.”
He kissed her neck. Gently kissed each cheek, her chin, her mouth. “I want to make love with you more than anything in the world.”
“More than eating Mom's lasagna?”
He laughed. God, he loved her humor. Her kindness. The heat of her body against his. He wanted to wrap himself around her like a blanket and keep her here all night. He kissed her again. Against her lips he whispered, “What lasagna?”
Cassie broke into a fit of giggles. Nerves. For sure. He stole the moment to pull her on top of him and settled her into his arms. She seemed content to comply and looked like an angel with her blond curls spilling on her shoulders, her chest pressed against him, exposing the soft tops of her fabulous breasts in the navy tank top. He was rock-hard for this woman, feeling a need stronger than reason. But he hadn't been prepared for making love and now this. He'd go slow...he just couldn't resist her. Not now.
Growing bolder, she ran her hands across his chest, her touch like electricity through his body. “I have an advantage over you.”
He nuzzled her neck, trailing whisper-light kisses along her throat. “And what is that?”
A mischievous look filled her eyes. She sat up on him, grasping the hem of his shirt. Pushing it up his chest, she followed the motion with kisses along his abdomen up to his solar plexus. With each kiss she said, “I have...already...seen you naked...and liked...what I saw.”
The hum of satisfaction rising in his throat seemed to spur her on. She pulled the shirt over his head. The fire in her eyes ignited a response in him that he'd never felt. In. His. Life.
The urge drove him wild to find out what about Cassie Michaels made him want her so, but no. Safety first.
He caught her wrists. At the questioning look on her face, he released a deep breath. “Cassie, when was the last time you made love?”
She frowned. “I can't remember.”
He kissed her forehead, brushed back the hair that had fallen against her face. “Me neither. As much as I crave having you, I didn't want to assume it would happen. I'm not prepared.”
A devilish grin creased her lips. “Wait here.”
She rolled from the couch and headed for her purse, pulling out a familiar black-and-gold box. She shrugged, her bashfulness sexier than the blush rising on her cheeks. “I took the chance and stopped before coming here. With how fast my world is changing right now, I'm a fool if I don't take what you have to offer and not look back.”
Peter sat up. Oh, yes. Cassie Michaels was an exceptional woman. Vulnerable. Daring. Truthful. Exquisite. Sexy as hell. She held out the condoms like a siren in the lamplight, her lips kiss-swollen, her honey-colored hair in wild disarray. She possessed the solution for this very awkward moment, and at her seductive grin, he wanted to howl.
He stalked over to where she stood and caught her mouth with his in one more lethal kiss that stole both their breaths. Words escaped him, but he could show her how he felt with actions.
When he broke the kiss, he shook his head in amazement at the desire clouding her eyes. She was surrendering to him, and the realization drove him wild. Heart pumping, he lifted her into his arms and carried her back to the couch. His voice low with need, he said, “I wish I'd stopped and bought that damned bed.”
She laughed. “I see nothing wrong with the couch. For now.”
A moan caught in his throat as he pulled her back onto the cushions. “I want to love you like you've never known.”
She stretched herself full-length against him, shuddering beneath his searching hands as he feathered her with kisses, her sighs spurring him on. His fingertips explored her through the soft fabric of her top, his palms caressing her belly beneath the silky material. His hands trailed up her torso, pushing up her tank top to reveal her soft, natural breasts captured in a black lace bra. The bra's little pink bow at the valley of her breasts left him needing more. He kissed the top of each soft mound, inhaling the powdery scent of her skin. His fingers begged to touch the ivory flesh spilling from the sheer lace. She lifted her arms as he slowly worked the top over her head. Her blond curls fell haphazardly on her shoulders, driving him deeper into ecstasy.