Carae's Touch (Long Line of Love, #4) (17 page)

He walked back to her and stared down into her beautiful gaze. "Just be thankful you didn't feel it
in
your ass, gorgeous brown eyes."

She inhaled and shook her head. "You are hopelessly delusional if you think you have a snowball's chance in hell of getting your oversized shaft anywhere near my anal opening."

He brushed the back of his hand against her cheek. "I thought women generally preferred bigger and harder when it came to cocks."

"Within reason. Your length and girth put you just outside of reason."

"Have you tried anal sex?"

"No and honestly I have no desire or intentions of trying it with anyone."

He trailed his fingers over her exposed cleavage. "I'm not just anyone."

She nodded. "I know, but that's not going to get you anywhere near my virgin behind."

"Virgin behind?" He slid his hand around to caress her ass. "You're making me burn."

She leaned forward to rub her cheek against his chest. "Go work it off, sweetie," she whispered.

He pressed a quick kiss against her neck and walked back towards the door. "I'll see you in about ninety minutes."

"I'll be waiting," she said.

"Hopefully stark naked and as horny as I am."

He heard her laugh. "Dream on, sweetie," she called out.

Smiling, he left the kitchen.

L
eft alone, Carae went out to the balcony to drink her coffee and assess her situation. Although she was pleased that he had moved Rissa's picture, his continual refusal to talk about her weighed heavily on her mind.  How could they have a serious relationship if he didn't care enough about her to discuss the only woman he'd ever loved?

And if he still loved her, where did that leave Carae? She glanced down at her stomach and slowly shook her head. Would she always be in the other woman's shadow?

She thought of his cock pressed against her ass for most of the previous night. He'd been hard and thick every time she woke. She knew he could have his choice of women, but apparently he wanted her. Maybe that gave her an advantage. Maybe, she could sleep her way out of Rissa's shadow.

You're not in my shadow.

Carae sat up on the chaise and glanced wildly around. Of course she was alone. Alone. Yet, she had felt the words in her head. Putting her cup down, she got up and made her way to Brandon's bedroom. A beautiful landscape of the Philadelphia city skyline occupied the spot that had previously held Rissa's picture.

She leaned against the wall by the open bedroom door, staring at the landscape. "What do you want from me?"

What he needs. Patience, understanding, and physical intimacy.

"If you recall, he's already had quite a bit of physical intimacy." She glanced down at her stomach.

Tell him. It will make all the difference for him
.

"And what about me? He's still in love with you and..." She shook her head. "I cannot believe I'm standing here talking to myself."

You're not talking to yourself.

"Then tell me what I'm doing wrong. Why he's still so in love with you."

I was his sheenea and I loved every minute of it. That ended with my death. Now, it's your turn. Be patient with him. Please. Help him complete the healing, freeing him to fall completely in love with you.

"Completely? Are you saying he's partly in love with me?"

He has been from the first night you met. He needs patience and understanding, but you can have everything with him that I wanted but didn't get a chance to fully embrace and enjoy. Be there for him in a way I didn't. Don't fail him as I did.

Even without words, she projected a wave of regret so strong and profound that Carae felt her eyes well with tears, for herself and for the other woman. "I have a novel idea. Instead of hounding me, why don't you talk to him and give him your blessing? Why don't you tell him it's okay to love me?"

I can't. I don't know why I can communicate with you but not him. I've tried but he doesn't hear me. He's not open to hearing me. That's one of the reasons and ways I know he's ready to love again. Love him and let him love you.

"He's dark and—"

Yes. He is now, but he wasn't always that way. He may always have a small measure of darkness, but you can help dispel it or at least keep it within reasonable levels. 

"What happened between you two? What made him feel responsible for your...death?"

It wasn't his fault.

"If you really believe that, why don't you tell him that?"

He can't hear me, but I'm thankful that you can. Tell him for me that I want him to find love again with you because I know you love him as much as I did.

"You haven't told me what happened between you."

That's something he needs to do. Once he has, you'll know he's let go of the past and my memory—

She shook her head. "He's never going to really forget you."

Maybe not, but he'll build new and enduring memories with you and the baby. You'll have him and his heart. Compared to that any lingering memories of our time together will pale in comparison—as well it should. Tell him that I said it wasn't his fault. That's what I was trying to say to him when I died. That it wasn't his fault. It's important to tell him that's what I was trying to say.

Before she could decide how to respond, her cell phone rang.

Shaking her head, she walked out of the bedroom and answered it. "Hi, Lelia."

"Hi. I'm having a few people over for a late lunch. Are you free? I'd love to have you and your guest come."

She hesitated only briefly before deciding she wanted to spend the day with Brandon. "Thanks, but I'll need a rain check."

"Sure.  If you change your mind, stop over anytime between twelve to six tonight."

"Thanks." After saying goodbye to Lelia, she called Jim.

"Are you all right?" He asked.

"Yes. I'm fine."

"When are you coming home? Do you need me to come pick you up?"

"No. Thanks."

"Did you tell him?"

"No."

"Are you going to?"

"Yes...eventually."

"Speaking as a man, sooner is probably better than later."

"Probably so, but I need to be sure of him. When I am, I'll tell him."

"Am I going to see you again this weekend?"

"I don't know."

"If you need me, call."

She smiled. "Thanks. I will." She glanced at her coffee, which was now cold. Taking her cup into the kitchen, she washed it before going to shower. Afterwards, she searched through Brandon's closets for something to wear. She settled on a sweatshirt and a pair of shorts.

When he returned after his workout, she was in the kitchen drinking a second cup of coffee while worrying that the vegetable omelet, French toast, and bacon was getting cold. "I expected you back half an hour ago. Breakfast is barely lukewarm."

"I needed more than 90 minutes, but everything smells great." He kissed her on her neck. "Give me ten minutes to take a shower."

She turned to look at him. "Brandon?"

"Yes?"

Recalling what Rissa had "said," she touched his cheek before curling her fingers in his hair. "Don't be long."

He kissed her. "I won't."

When he returned, he carried breakfast out to the balcony. While they ate, she kept her gaze on him, searching for any sign that he might be in love with her. But all she was certain she saw in his gaze was desire. That was nice, but mutual desire was not enough.

"You look charming in my clothes, but they're not suitable for dining out."

"Are we having dinner out?"

"Yes. We are. I can drive you home so you can pack a case or we can go shopping if you prefer."

"Really? I've had my eye on a couple of outrageously priced outfits for a while now."

"Then shopping it is," he said.

"I was kidding," she said.

"I wasn't. Where shall we go?"

"Take me home and I'll pack an overnight bag."

"Let's go shopping instead," he insisted.

They had a good natured argument before she agreed. She dressed and they went to an expensive boutique she only frequented on the rare occasions they held a sale.  He encouraged her to buy several outfits, including some decadently priced hose, lingerie, and heels, she knew would make her legs look great.

The bill was more than she made in two months. "I can't believe I let you spend so much money," she said when they were back in his SUV.

"It's not a big deal, Carae. The money isn't important and I meant it when I said there were no strings attached."

She sighed. Having him and enough money to buy such beautiful clothes would leave her with very little to hope for—if she could land his slippery ass. "Where are we going, Brandon?"

"Back to my place," he said, starting the car.

"No. I mean where are we going as a couple?"

He shut off the engine and turned to look at her. "There's really no getting around the fact that I'm too damned old for you, Carae. You're at a time in your life when you like going out clubbing and just enjoying being single and attractive; without anything to tie you down or impede your full enjoyment of life."

"And you?"

"I'm closer to forty-three than I am to forty-two. And I've never really enjoyed clubbing—not even in college. And I'm at a point in life when I just want..."

"What? What do you want, Brandon?"

"I want what my married brothers have: to be happily married to a woman I adore with a couple of kids, but—"

"Then have it, Brandon. With me."

"With you?"

"Yes. With me. It'll be a bit of a hardship, but with enough coercion, I think I could be persuaded to marry you and have your babies."

He caressed her cheek. "You deserve far more than I can give you, Carae."

"Probably so, but I want you anyway."

"For how long?"

"For how long? You want something in writing? I don't know for how long." She shrugged. "How long does anything last?"

"You're young and may be unsure of how you really feel."

She shook her head. "I'm twenty-eight, not eighteen. But even if I were eighteen, it wouldn't necessarily follow that I wouldn't know how I felt or what I wanted. I know how I feel."

"And how is that, Carae?"

She inhaled slowly. "What do you want me to say, Brandon? That I'm in love with you?"

"Are you?"

She shrugged and looked away from his searching gaze. "I like to go out clubbing occasionally. I love to dance and I enjoy being with my friends in a relaxed atmosphere, but that doesn't mean you and I...that we can't...that doesn't mean that we're incompatible or that I'm too young for you or that you're too old for me."

He sighed, nodding. "I think that's exactly what it means, Carae; especially since you deliberately ignored my question about how you feel."

"I don't recall you speaking about
your
feelings with any specificity either. So how do
you
feel?"

"Like I'm too damned old for you."

"That's skirting the issue and you know it is."

"Yes, I do, but we're emotionally incompatible. I'll be forty-three soon so I don't have a lot of time to waste dating unsuitable women while you have lots of time to do that with unsuitable men."

"What are you saying? That we're back to square one and you intend to admire me from afar?"

"That's what I need to do—given the fact that I've already hurt you."

"Is that what you're planning to do?"

"It's what I'd do if I had a decent bone left in my body."

"Do you?"

"Apparently not since that's not what I plan to do," he said.

"Are you in love with me, Brandon?"

He stared straight ahead. "Probably."

She moistened her lips. "Probably?"

"Yes. Probably."

"But you're not sure?"

He turned to look at her. "I've given you the answer I'm comfortable giving."

"I don't know, but it seems to me that a man your age should know if he's in love or not."

He nodded slowly. "Yeah. You're right."

"So are you?"

"If I say yes, it won't change the fact that I'm too old for you or the fact that I still have a lot of baggage."

She touched his arm. "And if I admit that I'm in love with you and willing to deal with you and all your baggage?"

"Are you admitting it?"

"No. I'm not."

He leaned over and kissed her neck. "Just so there's no misunderstanding...I probably am in love with you."

"Yes, well, sweetie, probably doesn't really work for me."

"There's no reason why it should."

"So you want to up the ante and delete the probably part?"

"Why don't we just take things slowly and see how they go?"

"Because maybe you're not the only one who doesn't have time to waste, Brandon."

He met her gaze. "Is there something you want to tell me, Carae?"

For a moment, she stiffened. Had he invaded her thoughts? Did he know? "If you're not interested, there are other men who are."

He moved away from her, narrowing his gaze. "That sounds like an ultimatum."

"And if it is?"

"And if it is, you might like to know that I don't respond well to them."

"That's good to know. Saves me the trouble of wasting both of our times issuing any. Now I think you were about to take me home."

"No I wasn't," he said and started the engine.

"It's where I want to go, Brandon," she said as he drove away.

"And it's where I'll take you tomorrow night. Right now, some friends of mine are having a barbecue. I'd love you to go with me."

"Brandon—"

"Please come with me."

The fact that he wanted to take her to a function with his friends felt like a step in the right direction—albeit not the declaration she longed for. "Drive on, James."

"Where am I driving to, Carae?"

"Wherever you like," she said.

He sighed in apparent relief. "To my place so you can change and then to the barbecue?"

"Yes."

He reached over to touch her thigh. "Thanks."

In his condo, she dressed and then they got back in his vehicle.

"Where are we going?"