Authors: JM Stewart
Before she lost her nerve, she closed the distance between them and pressed along his length. Every inch of her trembled, from nerves this time, and warning bells rang in her head, telling her she played in dangerous territory.
His body stiffened with surprise. His eyes widened with alarm. “What are you doing?”
She didn’t answer. Instead, she snaked a hand around the back of his neck, lifted onto her toes, and seized his mouth. Determined to get her answer, she kissed him hard.
A quiet, almost reluctant groan erupted from deep within his chest, and his large hands seized her shoulders. He wrenched his mouth from hers and set her away from him, holding her at arm’s length. His chest rose and fell at a rapid pace, matching the fierce pounding of her heart.
His eyes searched her face. “Why’d you do that?”
“I had to know . . .” She gave a miserable shake of her head. “The only way we’re going to move past this is to face it. Head-on. Gran always used to put me off, and I hated it. Please don’t do that, Kyle. I’d rather you be honest with me.”
He remained frozen in front of her, the muscle in his jaw ticking. Tension radiated off him. A fraction of a second later, his hands dropped from her shoulders and seized her waist, tugging her flush against him again. The same eyes that searched hers in confusion only moments before now darkened, taking on a rebellious glint. Every ounce of breath left her lungs.
“You want the truth? You really want to know how I feel about you, what you do to me?” His frustrated tone mocked her as his hands slid down her back. He cupped her bottom and tugged hard, grinding his hips against hers. The hard length of his arousal pressed into her belly, showing her exactly how she affected him.
A soft gasp escaped her as her intentions blew up in her face. Every inch of her trembled as a lethal dose of intense, undeniable desire snaked through her, coiling low in her belly.
“I don’t know how to be any more honest than this.” He dipped his head and brushed his lips over hers, whispering against her mouth. “You drive me crazy. Every time you look at me, touch me. Do you have any idea how hard it was to lie in bed with you Friday night? To hold you so close I felt your heartbeat but not be able to touch you like this?”
His hot mouth skimmed across her jawline, and he nipped at her earlobe. “I almost lost my mind tonight, seeing you dance, watching you watch me. You look at me like that, too, you know. Like you want me, and it makes me crazy. Then you had the nerve to wrap your arms around me. I appreciated it when you told me we’d always be friends. I was afraid I’d really screwed this up. But your breasts against my back and your hot breath on my neck are equal parts bliss and torment.”
A whimper of need left her mouth. His words, the soft touch of his hands skimming her curves, had her knees quivering. She dropped her head back, arching into the intense connection of their bodies.
“And this.” He lifted his head and traced the edge of her V neckline with the tip of his index finger. “This was the worst. You look incredible in this top, do you know that? This damn neckline teases me, gives me the barest hint of where I ache to be able to see you, to touch you.”
A shiver of need slid through her, weakening what was left of her defenses. Her body sagged into his, and his strong arms tightened around her, her fingers curling around the curves of his biceps. Oh God, she hadn’t intended to go this far. A kiss. It was only supposed to be a kiss. It was
supposed
to force communication; then maybe they’d laugh and talk it out and they’d get over this. They’d finally move past this and she’d get her best friend back.
What she
needed
to do was send him home. Letting this continue could ruin their friendship. She’d lose him, and she couldn’t do that. She just couldn’t. She was already dangerously close. With Gran gone, he was all she had. If she lost him, too, she’d be all alone.
Except she lacked the willpower to push him away. His warm, hard, deliciously male body against hers felt too good. His hard chest rubbing her aching nipples, his strong thighs brushing hers. Being in his arms lit her body on fire. All those naughty pregnancy hormones sent molten lava pumping through her veins, and all she could think or feel was how desperately she wanted him. Oh, how he made her ache. She wanted his touch on her body, yearned to feel the soft heat of his bare skin against hers.
God help her, but she wanted him, the way she’d never wanted another man in her life. Damn sure she’d never wanted Jimmy this way.
“Yes.” Despite knowing it was wrong, the word left her mouth on a soft, needy whisper.
Kyle let out a quiet, agonized groan as his lips skimmed hers again. “I won’t deny I want you. I won’t deny I’d love nothing more than to carry you inside the house and show you what making love is supposed to be like.”
His words, the raw hunger in his voice, sent a heady shiver snaking through her body. He trailed the fingers of one hand up her side, cradled her left breast in his palm, and dragged his thumb across her hardened, aching nipple.
A half-strangled whimper wrenched from her throat. Mindless with need, her body humming and riding a razor-sharp edge, she arched into his hand. Her nipple strained against the fabric of her shirt, desperate for him not to stop the delicious torture. Why hadn’t Jimmy’s hands ever felt like this? No man’s touch ever had. So good. His lips skimmed the curve of her neck, his teeth gently scraping her skin, and she tightened her grip on him, holding on for dear life.
“But I won’t.” As abruptly as he’d grabbed her, he pulled back, taking her gently by the shoulders. He set her away from him, holding her steady as she found her land legs again.
Like a bucket of ice water dumped over her head, shock settled over her. Her eyes opened. For a moment, she blinked up at him, dazed and confused. The lack of his warmth against her had a cold shiver raking down her spine. Disappointment and frustration wound through her. How could he do that? How could he draw her in and then push her away like that?
The answer came all too easily, however, and regret sank like a stone in her stomach. But she’d asked for this, hadn’t she? She’d asked for this, needed to know how he felt about her, demanded he tell her, and when he wouldn’t, she’d forced the issue. Now she wished she’d never asked.
“We’re so good together. You’re my best friend, and you’ve been my best friend since I was ten.” The same regret holding her prisoner took shape in his eyes. He stroked a hand over her cheek, his voice softening. “I won’t deny I want you, Ceci . . .”
He paused, something vulnerable in his eyes as they flicked over her face, searching for her reaction. It didn’t escape her notice that his breathing increased and his hands trembled. But those words from his mouth . . . Her heart stuttered to a stop as they sank over her. He
was
attracted to her. Somehow, she’d hoped he’d deny it. He’d kissed her, but she’d hoped he’d explain it away, that they could go back to being just friends. But to hear him actually the words . . .
Oh God.
He shook his head. “ . . . but I won’t ruin what we already have for the sake of sex. If I do, then I’ve become my father, and I won’t do that to you. You mean too much to me.”
Before she even had time to process his bold admission, the truth sank in her stomach like a stone. Tears stung behind her eyelids. He was right. Their friendship was too important to waste on lust, on a few nights, or even a few weeks of passion, however phantasmal.
He
was too important. The desire would eventually run out and leave their relationship shattered. She needed him as her best friend. Without him, she had nobody.
Embarrassed heat flooded her face. Pregnancy hormones had struck again. God, what he must think of her right now. . . . She was a fool. A complete and utter fool. How could she have let the moment get so far out of hand? How would she ever face him after this?
“You’re right.” With a nod, she took a step back and wrapped her arms around herself, desperate to pull herself back together. “Of course. You’re right.”
“Ceci . . .” Tenderness and sorrow etched his voice. He stepped forward, reaching out to her.
“No.” Shaking her head, she sidestepped his outstretched hand. “Please, don’t.”
She wrapped her arms tighter around herself and drew up straight. If he touched her right now, she’d crumble. She’d made enough of a fool of herself tonight.
He let out a heavy sigh, his shoulders slumping. “You’re mad.”
She darted a glance at him but couldn’t force herself to meet his gaze. She didn’t want to know, didn’t want to see whatever played in his eyes. “No, I’m not. I promise.”
“Honesty, remember?” He reached out, lifting her chin with two fingers.
“I’m sorry. I am, but I can’t just shut off my emotions. My pregnancy makes them stronger than ever, and I know you mean well, but I . . .” She shook her head, her voice wavering, stupidly close to tears she didn’t know if she had the words to explain. “I can’t bear you touching me right now. I feel like a fool. You must think I’m so stupid. I just wanted . . . Oh, it doesn’t matter. I shouldn’t have let it go that far. It hurts, okay? Of all the men I’ve dated, a rejection from you hurts, and I don’t know what to do with that. I asked for this, and now I have to deal with it, and I don’t know how.”
“I don’t think you’re a fool, Ceci. It takes guts to put it out there that way. And I can’t shut it off any better than you can.” He turned his back to her and shoved his hands into his pockets. “I’m just a little better at hiding my emotions than you are. It comes with the job. Believe me, this isn’t what I want. This is what it needs to be. You’re important to me, too, and I won’t lose you.”
The rushing, swirling river water filled the aching, tense silence. Two seconds ago they had been on the verge of making love, of getting as close as two people could get. Now they were so far apart she couldn’t see the road back to him anymore.
Any other time, he would’ve drawn her to him and enfolded her within his embrace, or at the very least have stroked her cheek and given her a tender smile that would’ve made everything okay. She wanted him to. She longed to feel the bond between them again. But everything had changed. Actions that were once common practice weren’t so simple anymore.
“So, what we do now?” Unable to bear his expression, she turned away from him, watching the fast flow of the river.
“I go home, and we pretend this never happened.” His voice lowered, soft, yet full of conviction. “I’d still like you to consider my offer. I know it won’t be easy. You’re right. This changes things between us, and it’ll take us a while to put this behind us. But I’d like us to get back what we had. Best friends. It doesn’t change how I feel, though. Your baby deserves a father. You said you wanted that.”
She couldn’t deny that. “Yes. I do, and I think it’s generous of you to offer, but what do we tell your family, Kyle? It’s going to be awkward if they think we have a child but we aren’t together. It would be like with Becca and Jackson. Now that they’re divorced, he’s no longer part of the family.” She hugged herself, for a moment lost in the ponderings. “I couldn’t bear not seeing them anymore.”
“Jackson is still very much a part of the family. He just chooses not to come. He told me once it makes him uncomfortable. But Malia always makes sure he knows he’s always welcome. He’s Allie’s father.” He finally turned to face her and stood, studying her for a long, unnerving moment, his expression hard to read. Finally, he sighed, his stance relaxing. “I don’t care what they think, and I won’t allow them to
make
it awkward. Not that I think they will. This is about what’s best for you and your baby. You deserve to have someone you know you can rely on, and I hope you know . . . whatever happens between us, Ceci, I will always be there for you. No matter what. You do know that, don’t you?”
She couldn’t deny that. “Yes.”
He gave her a soft smile, warmth in his eyes.
“I’m glad. Most important, your baby deserves to have a good father. Though we may have to tell everybody the truth at some point. They won’t judge you.” He paused, staring at her again. Somberness erupted in the depths of his eyes. “Promise me you’ll consider letting me take responsibility for the baby? You want this, and this is something I can easily do for you and the baby.”
She nodded. “I’ll think about it.”
“I’m going to go.” He smiled again, soft and warm, studying her for a moment, then bent and pressed a kiss to her cheek. Then he turned and moved back through the trees, heading for the house. As his tall form disappeared into the shadowy foliage, his words echoed through her mind, tormenting her.
I won’t deny I want you . . .
I’d like us to get back what we had. Best friends.
The words hung heavy in her heart. She knew he meant them, but could she even do that anymore? Did she want to? Or had what she feared already happened? Had she lost him already?
Cecelia woke with a startled gasp to a darkened room. The smell of gunpowder filled her nostrils. Her heart hammered in her ears, and her T-shirt clung to her perspiration-dampened skin. She took long, deep breaths in an attempt to slow her rapid breathing as she scanned the darkness in search of something familiar to ground her. Menacing shadows stretched and weaved along the walls, over the floor and across the ceiling, as if reaching for her. Outside, the wind whistled past the house, too reminiscent of the screams echoing through her mind.
“It was a dream.” She turned to stare at the clock, hoping it would ground her, the way it had the night she spent at Kyle’s, and repeated the mantra over and over. Terror refused to release its hold on her chest. The muted red numbers of her clock read 3:05, the color reminding her of the blood. Of the awful eyes that stared blankly back at her. God, she’d never seen the eyes before. They stared at her, cold and lifeless.
Four days had passed since the night at the river. Each morning Kyle called before she left for work to chat and see how she was doing, or so he always said. It was a step in the right direction for them, but all her mind ever concentrated on was his voice, still husky from sleep. It still sent tingles down her spine. Would things ever be the same between them?
The dark shape of her phone resting beside the clock taunted her. It teased her with what she wanted so badly her hands shook. To call Kyle. The simple sound of his voice used to calm her. Would it now? Could she even do that anymore, call her best friend at three in the morning because she needed him?
His words that night floated into her mind. She couldn’t forget them.
I won’t deny I want you. . . .
She closed her eyes, and the images from her dream flashed before her, as if in some awful form of an answer. The sightless eyes. The blood seeping across the carpet. The fear that gripped her chest so tightly she couldn’t breathe. It always left her wondering what was real and what was a dream, and she always woke in a sweat-filled panic, forgetting for a moment where she was. It was a dream. It had to be.
Then how come those sightless eyes made her chest ache?
The thought taunted her, and tears pricked behind her eyelids. Unable to resist, she opened her eyes and snatched her phone off the nightstand. With trembling fingers, she found Kyle’s number in her favorites, then rolled onto her back, heart thumping, and stared at the ceiling as the line rang. It was late. Chances were, he was asleep.
“Morgan.”
A single word, but his deep voice washed over her, wrapping around her like the soothing comfort of a warm blanket. Her mind drew up an image of them, as they’d been that night she lay in his bed. In his arms. The tension gripping her chest finally released, and more tears, grateful ones this time, filled her eyes. This had to stop.
She blew out a shaky breath and pulled her grandmother’s quilt up under her chin, relief flooding through her as she relaxed deeper into the mattress. “Hi.”
“Hey. It’s pretty late. You okay?” His tone was conversational, like he’d just been awake at three in the morning and had nothing better to do than talk to her, and she had to admit, she was grateful.
But her mind drew up an image of him, lying in bed in his pajamas, staring at the darkened ceiling above her, the way she was. Guilt grabbed her chest. She’d probably woken him, and here she was, calling him like a child. A silly little girl having a nightmare.
“I’m okay.” She bit her lower lip. “I’m sorry. I feel silly now. I just . . . needed to hear your voice.”
“It’s okay. I told you, I’m always here. Whatever you need. The nightmare again?”
“Yeah.” She paused, unsure whether to tell him the truth or not, uncertain whether she wanted to relive it again. The lure of him on the other side of the phone won, the need too strong to deny. She wanted her best friend back. It was time she stopped letting her doubts keep her from doing all those things she used to once upon a time. That included confiding in him. “This one was different.”
“Different how?”
“Oh God, I saw faces this time. In detail. A man with dark hair, lying cock-eyed on the floor. A woman with hair the same color as mine, but longer. It was spread out around her head where she lay on the floor. They were covered in blood. And their eyes . . . they were open but sightless. God, is that what you see every night? How do you do that?” Cecelia squeezed her eyes shut, trying to close out the onslaught of ugly images.
“Yeah. I’m the one they call when they find a scene like that. I don’t think about it. I keep my personal feelings out of it. It’s a job. I know that sounds cold, but it keeps me sane. Keep talking. What about the faces bothered you?”
The images rose again, shining vivid and corporeal, in her mind’s eye, and a cold chill ran down her spine. “I’ve never seen the faces before. The strangest part is, I felt like I knew those people.”
The nightmares had come more often these past few days, sometimes as often as three times a night. The ghostly images slowly became clearer, more vivid. Too real. They left her with an overwhelming sense of panic she hadn’t experienced before. The urge to run, as far and as fast as she could. What she couldn’t bring herself to utter out loud was the odd sense she’d actually been there. That was crazy, right?
On top of it all, an awful feeling nagged at the back of her mind. That somehow the nightmares, those people, were connected to her past. She knew those people. How she had no idea, but every time she thought about them, the cloying ache of losing a loved one clenched at her chest. Like now. She wanted to weep for their loss. They meant something to her, she was sure of it, but what? How was it even possible? Wouldn’t she remember something like that?
“I can come over if you need me to.”
Kyle’s voice drifted soft and reassuring across the line, breaking her from her reverie. God, he had no idea how much she longed to say yes, but what would happen when he arrived? Would she be able to lie in his arms, hold him and sleep with him in a strictly platonic sense, the way they’d done for years? The way they might have done only six months ago? Her mind flashed on the night by the river, bringing back the feel of his mouth on her, searing wherever it touched. Heated tingles raced along the surface of her skin, replacing the cold chill of the dream. She couldn’t forget the solid warmth of his body against hers. How his hands set her on fire and made her ache. If he hadn’t stopped them, she held no doubt she would’ve made love to him that night.
The thought lodged inside of her, and she opened her eyes, dejection weighing on her. They weren’t the same anymore. She had no idea if she could lie with him and not want . . . more. Even now, even with these damn dreams, she didn’t know.
“No, I’m fine.” She let out a quiet, defeated breath. She couldn’t take the risk. Whatever insanity was happening between them had to stop, which meant redrawing her boundary lines. If she was lucky, in time, they’d go back to normal. “I’m sorry I woke you.”
“It’s okay. I wasn’t sleeping.”
“Headache?” Despite her previous thought, she couldn’t resist the lure of conversation. She missed him, missed the simple things, like talking to him. She needed to redefine this boundary line. If she accepted his offer, they were going to be parents together, and she had to find a happy medium. Laying in bed with him was inappropriate now, but conversation was always safe. Wasn’t it?
“Mmm. I was going over some of my files, waiting for the Excedrin to kick in.”
This admission worried her. She furrowed her brow. “You really should go to the doctor, Kyle. Sounds like migraines. They have special medication for that.”
“It’s just stress. This case is making me nuts.”
She wanted to ask him to talk about it, but she knew he couldn’t discuss the finite details of his cases with her. Neither was she ready to let him go. Talking to him, however simple their conversation might be, relaxed the tight knots in her chest. They’d have to figure out how to be together again without the tension always rising between them. If they couldn’t, then she really had lost him, and she refused to give up.
All the same, the conversation dwindled, and silence ticked out, echoing across the phone line, long and awkward. The thought made her chest ache. She hated this. Words failed her. She didn’t know what to say to him or how to talk to him anymore. Kyle was back to being that stranger again.
“What’re you thinking?” Kyle broke the silence first. His voice held a low, almost intimate, hum that called to the deepest part of her. Like he noticed the awkward silence, too.
She yearned with everything she had to tell him the truth. In her fantasy, they’d talk this out and he’d make everything better again, the way he always did. But the truth wasn’t so simple. Talking this out wouldn’t get them anywhere but where they’d already been. Hadn’t she proved that to herself?
So she drew up the questions she’d pondered before going to bed tonight. A much safer topic. “Actually, I wondered what we’ll tell the baby, about us, I mean. We’ll be living separately and all. He’s bound to ask.”
“We’ll figure it out when we get there. I think we have a few years yet before the kid starts asking questions. Does this mean you’re accepting my offer?”
Did it? She slipped her free hand beneath the quilt, rubbing over her still-flat stomach. She wasn’t even showing yet, but rubbing her tummy already made her feel connected to the tiny baby within. The idea of Kyle taking over as the baby’s father settled inside of her, and the fantasy filled her mind. Of them, a year down the road, after the baby was born. Kyle would be right beside her for the birth.
She saw them five years down the road when her child started kindergarten. Kyle walking their daughter to her first day of school. He’d make an excellent parent, and she
did
want a father for her baby. So what held her back?
The attraction seated between them. She kept her child from having a wonderful father, because the newly discovered attraction to her best friend terrified her. She was being selfish.
She squeezed her eyes closed and released a heavy breath. “Yeah. Yeah, I think I’d like to.”
“Thanks. For putting your trust in me, I mean. I won’t let you down.” His voice lowered to a husky murmur, soft and joy-filled.
In the tiny silence that followed, their connection zinged along the phone line, wrapping around her like a protective shroud. The longing to be in his arms hit her again.
She rolled over in bed, staring at the clock again. “What are we going to tell your family?”
He sighed. “I still think you should tell them the truth. It would make this a whole lot easier. You’re not alone, Ceci. I’ll be there with you, right beside you, every step of the way. We’ll do this together.”
The tender conviction in his voice lodged inside her heart. She hoped she’d admit her fear to him and he’d say all the right things, that he’d soothe the wound and douse the fear like a flame. But the tenderness in his tone brought back the night she’d spent in his bed, not quite a week ago. For a moment, she closed her eyes, and he was there beside her again, lying with her, his strong arms holding her tight. This time, the effect was so different. A yearning ache filled her belly, heat pooling between her thighs. She couldn’t blame it on pregnancy hormones now. Their talk by the river a few nights ago had proven that.
She opened her eyes, her hands trembling. It was time to end the insanity. “I’m feeling better now. I’ll let you go. ’Night.”
More silence echoed across the line. This one came so full she could almost hear the things he wanted to say to her. She prayed he wouldn’t voice them. At some point, they had to move beyond this, but apparently tonight wasn’t that night.
An ache filled the center of her chest. She hated this.
Finally, he sighed. “All right. ’Night, Ceci.”
She returned the phone to the nightstand and settled back. The glowing numbers showed 3:15, reminding her why she’d called him in the first place. She glared at the clock, determination filling her chest. She was tired of being afraid. Tired of being scared of her shadow and afraid to trust her heart.
And damn tired of the nightmares. She couldn’t ignore them anymore and hope they’d go away. She’d been having them for twenty years. It was past time to put them to rest once and for all. Unfortunately, the right man for the job refused to help her. So she’d go to the second best. Chase.
***
The following morning, Cecelia’s heart raced as she stood in the middle of the long, cracked sidewalk, eyeing the old house in front of her. How many times over the past twenty years had she made this particular trek, across to the property adjoining hers? Too many to count.
The family that lived here once had long since grown up and moved out. Georgia had moved out a couple of years ago. She’d said that without her kids there with her, the house was too big. She rambled around in the space. So she’d gotten an apartment nearby.
Always good with his hands, Chase had offered to make the repairs needed on the house. The idea had originally been that they’d eventually sell the house, but Chase grew attached to the space and never left. He’d started his PI business in part as a way to earn money for the renovations.
Of the four siblings, Chase was always the loner. After he lost his partner, he’d become something of a hermit. Starting his private investigation business suited him. Like Kyle, he had a nose for research. He was good at digging up hard-to-find information.
Which was exactly why she’d come to see him. One way or another, she’d find her parents. Kyle refused to help her, so she’d ask Chase.
With a deep breath, she screwed up her last ounce of courage, mounted the front porch steps, and knocked on the door. Learning about her past had become more than simply wanting to fill the hole deep inside her. She needed answers, and she wanted them before she had the baby. A mother who lived in fear wasn’t much of a mother.
The sound of the dead bolt sliding sent excitement bubbling in her tummy. As the door swung open, she shifted like a child on Christmas morning. The door opened moments later to reveal Lila. In a knee-length black skirt and a red silk blouse, Lila appeared as perfect as ever. How she did it, Cecelia didn’t know, but it was barely eight in the morning. Not so much as a hair on her auburn head fell out of place.