Just This Night (16 page)

“I just wish Ashley were a little older,” he said with a sigh, pacing the floor again. “At least then I could somewhat explain things. I mean, she keeps asking me, like every day, when Mommy is coming home. It's like she refuses to believe she's gone for good.” He paused, then added, “And then there's her nightmares. She has these horrible nightmares and wakes up screaming for Victoria . . .”

He trailed off, closing his eyes, looking defeated. My heart squeezed, empathy warring with encroaching rage on his behalf. Here he was, this poor guy, doing the best he could for his little girl. While her own mother was off, gallivanting God knows where, clearly not giving a shit about any of it.

It wasn't fair. It wasn't right.

And suddenly I found myself rising from the couch, walking around it, and pulling him into my arms.

“Ashley is very lucky to have you,” I whispered in his ear.

I had only meant to hug him. To try my best to comfort
him and ease his pain. But while my mind might have had the best of intentions, my body, it seemed, had far less innocent ideas. And suddenly I was pressing against him, my lips coming down on his own.

For a moment he stood still, as if shocked into stasis by my unexpected move. But he recovered quickly, his lips fusing with my own with an intensity that took my breath away. His tongue swept into my mouth. His hands tangled in my hair. His body shoved me up against the back of the couch and I could feel his erection pressing hard against my stomach as his mouth moved over mine.

This wasn't the gentle kiss from the beach. This wasn't a worshipful caress. This was hard, unapologetic, almost violent in its intensity—a kiss from a man who was desperate to lose himself in the moment. To allow emotion to sweep away his pain—even temporarily. Suddenly he was taking faster than I could give and I gasped into his mouth, my vision spinning and my mind going numb as the sensations coursed through me as hard and fast as the kiss itself.

Soon his hands became restless, abandoning my hair, dropping to my arms, then falling to my hips. Still kissing me, he lifted me, as if I weighed nothing at all, placed me on the back of the couch, then used his thigh to part my legs. A shiver of desire rang through me as he closed the gap between us, his hands slipping under my tank top, scorching my skin. I reached around and grabbed his butt to steady myself, rejoicing at the feel of the firm muscle under my hands. He groaned into my mouth and thrust against me and, for a moment, I thought I would come, right then and there, still fully clothed.

But Mac, it seemed, had other ideas. Abandoning my mouth, he dropped to his knees before me, bunching my skirt up to my waist. I swallowed heavily as my still hazy brain realized his intentions and gripped the couch with white-knuckled fingers as he worked to pull my panties down to my ankles and then remove them completely.

His hands rose to my knees, forcing my legs wider apart, exposing me fully to him, before lowering his head between
me. I let out a small “eep” as his tongue slid between my folds and began licking every inch of me, all the while his hands gripped my knees, forcing me to keep my legs spread. As he took my clit into his mouth and sucked hard, I almost fell off the couch.

But somehow I managed to hold on for dear life, biting down on my lower lip so hard I soon tasted blood. Mac's hands abandoned my knees and rose upward, slipping under my tank top and up to my breasts, his thumbs rolling the nipples, while his teeth lightly nipped me below.

And that was it. I shattered into a thousand rays of light.

“Oh my God,” I whispered, still clutching the couch, my heart pounding in my chest as the sensations rolled over me like a tidal wave. “Oh, Mac!”

I was dimly aware he had risen to his feet and was reaching down to unbuckle his belt. Somehow I managed to reach out and try to help him, my breath still coming in short gasps as I anticipated what was about to come. All rationalization had fled the building. All common sense had fled my head. All I knew was here, now. Mac.

“Daddy? My water's all gone.”

Mac froze. He stared at me with horrified eyes. Then he broke away, pulling up his fly. Face burning, I pushed down my skirt, back over my knees.

“Ashley, sweetie?” Mac called in a rough voice. “Are you okay?”

“I need some more water,” she announced, holding up her sippie cup. “And some magic sleeping pixie dust.”

Mac sucked in a breath, then swallowed hard. “Okay, sweetie. Go back to bed. I'll bring you some water in a minute.”

Ashley was silent for a moment. Then, “Are you guys playing monster and reporter without me?”

I stifled a giggle; I couldn't help it. But the look Mac shot me was enough to wipe the grin from my face. Shit. He was definitely not seeing the humor in the situation.

“Go back to bed, Ashley,” he ground out. “I'll be there in a minute.”

“Aww.”

“Go, Ashley!” His voice rose. “Now!”

His daughter let out an angry sob, lobbed her cup at us, then ran back to the bedroom, slamming the door behind her. Mac groaned, buckling his belt and grabbing the cup, then stalked over to the kitchen to refill it. I watched him, not able to help but notice how he was looking everywhere but at me.

As he headed back to his daughter's bedroom, I grabbed my panties and slipped them back on, then collapsed onto the couch, my whole body still vibrating like crazy, not sure what to do. Mac looked so mortified and I was guessing he wasn't going to want to pick up where we left off. I wondered if I should try to tell him it was no big deal. Ashley didn't see anything, and she was far too young to understand, even if she did. But I was guessing none of that rationalization was going to help in this case.

He returned about ten minutes later, looking exhausted and drained. “Sorry about that,” he muttered under his breath.

I sat up on the couch. “Is she okay?”

“She's fine.”

“Good.” I bit my lower lip. “How about you?”

He shrugged, but I caught a hint of a smile creeping at the corners of his mouth. Now that she was back in bed, he could allow himself to see the humor in the whole thing, I guess.

“Monster and reporter.” He shook his head. “Now
that's
one I've never heard before.”

I cracked up. I couldn't help it. And he rewarded me with an embarrassed grin. “Welcome to the thrilling world of modern parenting,” he quipped, plopping down onto the couch. “So glitzy and glamorous I can hardly stand it sometimes.” He rolled his eyes. “At least now you can see what I was talking about earlier. My life? Not exactly my own these days.”

“Yeah, well, at least your fearsome overlord is pretty darn cute.”

He chuckled softly, then opened his arms. I curled into him, resting my head on his chest. His hands reached to stroke my hair and I felt his heavy sigh against my ear.

“I'm sorry, Beth,” he said. “I know this whole thing is totally unfair. The way I keep pushing you away, then dragging you back again.”

“It's okay,” I said. “I mean, it's not like I've exactly been an unwilling participant in the whole thing.”

“That's true actually,” he said. “You
have
made yourself unfairly irresistible. So there's that.”

I laughed. “I'm going to use that as my tagline from now on,” I said with a smile. “Elizabeth White. Unfairly irresistible. Live at six.”

He snorted, then pressed his lips against the top of my head, kissing me softly and sending a chill straight to my toes. “God, Beth,” he murmured, his lips still brushing against my hair. “It's like everything inside of me says I should scoop you up into my arms and take you to my bedroom. Lock the door and do dirty things to you all night long.” He shook his head. “But at the same time I know that won't solve anything. And tomorrow we'll be right back where we started.”

“Would that be so bad?” I asked, pulling my head from his chest to meet his eyes with my own. They were so blue. And so sad. It made my heart squeeze. “I mean, I'm not trying to push you to do something you don't want to do. But we're both single. I think we both like each other. I understand you don't want to upset Ashley, but we could play it quiet, at least for now. At least until we know for sure whether there's something between us.”

“You sound like my sister,” he said with a groan. “But it's more complicated than that.”

“I don't see why it has to be.”

He stared down at his hands, and for a moment I thought he wasn't going to reply. Then he lifted his head, his gaze fixing on the wall across the room.

“Ashley's mother,” he said in a gravelly voice. “My ex-wife. She was my coworker, too. And when things imploded between us—let's just say I lost more than just my marriage.
There's a reason Ashley and I had to flee Boston. And I'm damn lucky I was able to get a job in San Diego to be near my sister. This is my last chance. And if I fuck this up, Ashley and I have no place left to go.” He swallowed heavily.

My heart wrenched at the pain I saw in his face. “Mac . . .”

“There's a little girl in there,” he interrupted, gesturing to the bedroom. “A little girl who depends entirely on me. Who needs me to keep a clear mind and a steady job. To think with my head instead of my dick.” He closed his eyes for a moment. “When her mother took off, I made a promise to her. To always put her first. And I intend to keep that promise. Which means no more drama. No more romantic entanglements. Especially not with another coworker.” He squeezed his hands into fists. “The risk is just too great for me to be that selfish.”

I nodded slowly, not sure what to say. How could I even argue his points? As much as it hurt to be rejected, he was doing it out of love and protection for his daughter. How could I fault him for wanting to be a good dad and to keep her safe? I wanted, of course, to tell him that I would never do anything to hurt Ashley or cause her any confusion. That even if things didn't work out between us, I would never endanger his job or his family.

But why should he believe me? He'd only met me a week ago. And it sounded as if he'd gone through something terrible back in Boston with his ex. No wonder he wanted to play it safe this time around. His daughter depended on it.

“Look, Beth,” he said turning back to me. “I think it's obvious I like you a lot. And not just in
that
way, either. I like you as a person—you're funny, you're smart, you're passionate about what you do. And you care about people. The way you treated that family at the fire? That was the moment I realized that even if I could never be in a relationship with you, I'd still want to be your friend.” He gave me a sheepish look. “I know that sounds stupidly cliché, but in this case it's also the truth.”

“I know,” I said slowly, staring down at my hands. After all, what else could I say? That sex was the only thing I
valued about him? That was definitely not true. While yes, he was completely hot and made me crazy every time he touched me, that was only the beginning of what Jake MacDonald was starting to mean to me.

I looked up. “I want to be friends, too,” I told him. “Friends and coworkers.” I paused, then added, “Under one condition.”

“What's that?”

“You have to stop kissing me. If you kiss me, I can't make any promises that I won't kiss you back. And you can't blame me if I do.”

He laughed. “It's a deal. No more kissing. And no more games of monster and reporter, either.”

“Definitely no more of those.” I made a fake, exaggerated shudder as my mind flashed back to the scene. Of his hands pushing on my knees. Of his tongue sliding up inside of me.

Whoa girl, get back in the friend zone.

I could feel Mac watching me. I forced a wide smile. “Friends,” I pronounced, putting out my hand.

“Friends,” he agreed, taking it.

But as the all-too-familiar sting of electricity shot through me at his touch, I wondered if it could ever be that easy.

MAC

D
addy, Daddy, where'd Beth go?”

The high-pitched voice crashed into my bedroom well before dawn, breaking me from dreamland. At first, I tried to lie still, in a vain effort to pretend I was still asleep, hoping she'd eventually give up and head back to her own room for at least another precious fifteen to twenty. But I should have known my daughter better than that. And a few minutes later she was on my bed, grabbing my face in her tiny hands, trying to pry open my eyelids with her fingertips.

“I'm up, I'm up!” I protested, playfully swatting her hands away. But she just giggled and crawled on top of me, succeeding, of course, in kicking me hard in the stomach in the process. Seriously, I should hire this kid out as an alarm clock. Rip Van Winkle himself couldn't have stayed in bed with her on the job.

“Be gentle with me,” I begged. “You've only got one daddy, you know. Gotta try not to take him out.”

“Sorry, Daddy!” she chirped. “I'll kiss it better!” She leaned over to kiss my stomach, managing to nearly kick me in the head in the process. Groaning, I grabbed her and
wrestled her back onto the bed. She shrieked and giggled. Then she looked up at me with her big brown eyes. “I love you, Daddy.”

“I love you, too, jelly bean.”

“I'm not a jelly bean! I'm a princess!” she squealed.

I let her go, giving her a mock bow. “I'm so sorry, your majesty. My mistake.”

Ashley giggled. Then her smile faded. “Where'd Beth go?” she asked, as if suddenly remembering why she'd come in here in the first place.

“If she's not in the guest room then she had to go home,” I told her. “Remember, she told you that she might not be here when you got up?”

“Aw,” Ashley said, scowling. “I wanted her to stay.”

I sighed.
Me, too, baby girl. Me, too.

I glanced over at the clock. Before going to bed last night I'd set my alarm, hoping to beat Beth up this time and cook her a little breakfast surprise of my own before she had to leave for work. Sure, my culinary skills were noobish at best, but it was only fair to give it a try, I'd told myself, after all the trouble she'd gone through for me the morning before, only to have me rush her out the door.

Besides, we were officially friends now. And friends were totally allowed to cook one another breakfast. In fact, cooking breakfast could be seen as a very friendly thing to do.

But evidently she had already left the building. And it wasn't even six
A.M.
An unexpected feeling of disappointment panged in my gut. What time had she gotten up? Or had she slipped out in the middle of the night?

I sighed. I couldn't blame her if she had. After all, last night had not gone exactly to plan, to say the least. And, of course, it was all my fault. Seriously, what was it about that girl that caused me to have the complete inability to keep my freaking hands to myself?

Not to mention my mouth.

God, she'd tasted so sweet, too. Even sweeter than I'd remembered. And the way she felt as she came against my mouth, I'd completely lost all common sense. Thank goodness Ashley
had come in and interrupted when she did. Or I would have surely gone through with making yet another huge mistake.

One huge, delicious mistake.

But no. That would have been beyond stupid. And this was for the best. We'd come clean to one another, we'd talked it through, and now, from here on out, we could move forward without any new guilt to weigh us down. We could be platonic friends and coworkers. No big deal. After all, the stakes were far too high for it to be any other way.

“Is she coming back tonight? Can we have pizza when she does?” Ashley broke in, her voice bringing me back to the present.

I shook my head, wagging a finger playfully at my daughter. “No more pizza,” I scolded. “In fact, I'd like to actually see you consume something vaguely vegetable shaped tonight. It's been a while. And no, Beth unfortunately won't be coming over.”

“Aw. Why not?”

Why not, indeed.
I wrestled for an explanation she could understand. “She has to find a new place to live,” I said, inspired.

Ashley seemed to consider this, and for a brief moment, I thought she'd be satisfied with the answer. Silly me.

“I know! She can live with us!”

I sighed. “I'm sorry, sweetie. I don't think that'll work.”

She frowned. “Why not?”

“Well . . . We only have one guest room for one thing,” I reminded her. “So where would Aunt Sadie and Uncle Joe sleep when they came over?”

“Beth could sleep in my room . . .”

“In your little twin bed? I don't think she'd fit.”

“What about your bed, Daddy?”

Out of the mouths of babes . . .

“Beth can't sleep in my bed,” I tried to explain.

“Why not? Your bed is big! Really big!” Ashley made a sweeping motion with her hand, as if to prove her point. “And you sleep in it all by yourself.”

Way to rub it in, kiddo.

I flopped back onto the pillow, staring up at the ceiling. “Ashley, that's really generous of you to want to share your house with Beth. But she's got to find her own house. Just like Auntie Sadie and Uncle Joe have their own house.”

Ashley was quiet for a moment. “Does Mommy have her own house now, too?” she asked quietly.

And there goes my heart.

I sat up in bed again, taking her hands in mine and looking her in the eyes. “I don't know, sweetie,” I said slowly, wanting to be honest with her, without causing any more pain. “But I think she probably does.”

“Yeah.” Ashley dropped her gaze to her lap. “I think she probably does, too.” Then she looked up at me, her expression taking on a sheen of hope. “I like Beth, Daddy, I like her a really, really lot.”

“I'm glad, sweetie,” I managed to say past the lump in my throat.

“Do you like her, Daddy?”

“She's very nice.”

“Yes,” Ashley said resolutely. “She's very, very nice. And I really, really like her. Do you really, really like her, Daddy? Do you?”

My mind flashed back to Beth again. But not, this time, to the way she looked on the couch, to her curves, to her naked body, to the way her mouth felt against mine. But rather to the way she had curled up with my daughter the night before, reading her a story. To the way she'd taken her time, hadn't skipped any pages, acted out all the voices and explained the plot points when Ashley broke in with questions. As if, at that moment, there was nothing more important in the world to her than that book in her hands.

Than my daughter in her arms.

I swallowed hard. “Yes, Ashley. I like her a really, really lot.”

And that,
I thought,
was becoming a really, really big problem.