Mystic Hearts (6 page)

The
delusions she experienced last night, ones she’d hoped would dissipate by this
morning, came back two-fold. For certain, her mother would take her for a psych
evaluation.

Not
only did she have to contend with wondering if she lost her mind, now she
fretted with whether or not she slept with a man.

Gorgeous,
compassionate Larry…what would she say the next time she saw him? “Um, thanks
for the memories? Catch ya on my next drunken stupor? Ugh.” She flopped back
against the headboard and hit her head. “Ouch.”

“Careful!”
a low masculine voice warned.

The
surprise of his voice pounded anxiety through her system. Her day went from out
of balance to humiliating. “Not possible,” she muttered under her breath.

The
bedroom door creaked open. “What’s not?”

The
care in Larry’s voice sent tingles down her body. To rub her arms and legs to
warm them before the goose bumps covered her skin meant she’d have to raise her
head and open her eyes. If she did, she’d see him. Right now, with humiliation
ruling her life, she couldn’t. She covered her face with her hands and prayed
he didn’t hear her say, “She’d catch him on her next drunken stupor.”

“You’re
up,” he said when she remained silent.

Not
looking at him wouldn’t make the problem go away. If he heard what she’d said,
then he did. She slid her fingers aside and peeked at him. “Hi!”

Larry
chuckled.

The
husky tenor that sent warmth through her body last night shot straight to her
core.

“No
need to be embarrassed.” He moved to the side of the bed, touched her arm, and
nudged it down.

She
dropped her hands to her lap. Unlike last night, she could see every nuance of
his face, the shadow of whiskers on his cheeks and jaw, the laugh lines at the
corners of his eyes. His auburn hair shined and his honey colored eyes zoomed
in on her. He had one hell of a sexy grin. But they weren’t his only features
holding her attention. His shirt was off and the hard plains and muscle ridges
of his chest and abdomen begged her to touch.

“I’m
not.”

A
smile stretched across his face, displaying straight, white teeth.

The
passion she fought back into its hiding place last night clawed at her soul to
escape.

“Are
you hungry?” He pointed to the nightstand. “I worked hard, making toast and brewing
coffee.”

She
hadn’t noticed the tray or the aroma of coffee. A scent she usually savored in
the mornings fell short in comparison to the man.

He
settled on the mattress, and his knee brushed against her thigh. His nearness
made her skin tingle. She studied his chest and lowered her gaze, following his
happy trail.

He
rubbed the sprinkle of hair between his muscular pecs, his face flushed pink.
“I should put my shirt back on. I took it off before I went to sleep.”

“No
need.” She smiled. “Do you usually sleep in jeans?”

His
masculine groan declared he battled over that decision and made her insides
clench. “I usually don’t, but thought, best not.”

She
grinned, enjoying his reaction. “Why are you here?” She hated to sound
ungrateful with the caffeine and food he put on the nightstand. “I mean, how’d
you get in my house…my bedroom?”

Moments
passed as he studied her. A flutter of excitement flipped her stomach. She
wanted to touch him, taste him.

His
eyes narrowed, a puzzled expression crossed his features. “Do you remember any
details from last night?”

“Not
really. No.”

“At
Paul’s request, you went to Greenwood Manor to distract vandals.”

Did she tell Larry?

“When
you didn’t answer your cell this morning, Paul called the other BOFs, and then
called me.”

As
far as she knew he hadn’t joined the BOFs. Now that he had, she’d see him every
week at Cocktail Hour. Keeping a handle on her growing feelings toward him
would be next to impossible. “I hadn’t realized you joined the group.”

He
shook his head. “I haven’t. I’m an honorary member.”

“Oh.”

“So
you don’t remember anything?”

“I
recalled the reason I went to the manor. The areas between drinking a glass of
wine on the porch until now are somewhat fuzzy.”

“The
rest will come back to you in time.”

“You
sound so confident. I feel like I’ve been hit in the head.”

He
lifted her hand and drew circles on the back of her hand with his thumb.

Each
soothing caress ratcheted up her desire.

“In
the past, I’ve experienced memory loss. It’ll come back in fragments, eventually,
the whole picture falls into place.”

Accepting
his explanation, she nodded.

Questions
whirled around in her mind. Before she could ask one, he said, “I heard you
fall.”

“Heard
me? Where?” She raised her eyebrows and searched her memory banks: the walk to
the small building, a rose bush. “I fell outside the building that looks like
an old one-room schoolhouse.”

“You
did, and it is a schoolhouse. I found lots of old textbooks inside, though I
don’t believe anyone’s taught in there for years.”

“I
heard you and saw the light. I was coming to find you.”

Larry
stopped watching his thumb rubbing her skin and locked gazes with her. “You
heard me?”

“Yes,
and some other guy.”

A
serious expression crossed his face, one that made her nervous. “I need to ask you
a few questions.”

To
get the monkey off her back, so to speak, and allow her time to get her
bearings before she answered a battery of questions, she said, “Okay, but me
first.”

He
arched a brow and hesitated briefly before saying, “Shoot.”

“Why
were you at Greenwood Manor?”

“Checking
on mysterious lights Paul told me about.”

The lights that
looked like lightening bugs
. “I saw them, fireflies.” She paused. “If Paul
asked you to check on the lights, then why did he need someone else to ward off
vandals?”

Larry
lifted their join hands. “I think we were victims to a matchmaking scheme.”

“Paul?
A matchmaker?” She had never known any of the BOFs to meddle in each other’s lives;
then again, she hadn’t been around them long.

“Surprises
me, too. It’s the only explanation.” He studied her. “Remember anything else?”

She
released his hand, braced her hands on either side of her, and straightened,
rising higher against the headboard. The next question she dreaded, but she
needed an answer. “Did you put my nightgown on me?”

He
glanced behind him at the door, then turned back around, and cocked his head.
“That explains what you muttered earlier.”

She
scooted back down and pulled the sheet over her head. “You heard me.”

He
gripped the edge of the sheet and lowered it. “Yep, ’fraid so. So you’re clear,
I would never take advantage of someone inebriated.” His gaze turned intense.
“No matter how much I want her.”

Despite
her reservations on pursuing a relationship, relief washed over her and little
feet danced happily over her heart.

“Here’s
the deal. I came to check out the mysterious lights, ran into someone, and had
words. Then he. A few minutes later, I heard you fall. I immediately scooped
you up and drove you home. Since no one else was here, I put ice on your head,
gave you some aspirin, and stayed.” He pointed to the chair in the corner of
her room. “I slept there.”

She
had hoped he spooned her during the night, but his caring for her was
wonderful. “Thank you.”

He
slanted his head to the other side, reminding her of a cuddly puppy, and
reached for something on the tray. “Do you remember this?”

A
variety of reactions flitted over her: shock, excitement, apprehension,
passion. None of them was she willing to latch onto and claim.

The rose.

“I
thought you said—” Her words broke off. She touched a hand to her chest. With
the other hand, she grasped the stem. “It looks so fresh.”

“Ah-h,
you do remember.” He slightly raised and kissed her forehead. “You had me
worried.” He placed a hand on her knee when he settled back on the bed.

The
ease at which he touched her, the flower…she knew more
had
happened, which brought her back to the confusion she had
earlier. “What about my nightgown?”

He
made a throaty noise. “I can’t explain it. We stayed downstairs for a while
until you drifted to sleep on the couch. You thrashed around, so I brought you
up here to bed. Here’s the part that might bother you.”

She
tensed.

“I
laid you on the bed while you were still sleeping. I turned to figure out where
I might snooze. When I turned around,” he ran a hand down his face, “your
clothes were gone.”

Her
eyes narrowed. “Huh?”

“A-ah,
I don-n…I don’t know,” he mumbled and shook his head. “Charlene, I can’t
explain why you stripped.” He pressed his lips together, the corners of his
mouth twitched. “I will say I managed to find the willpower of a lion. I looked
through your dresser, grabbed the first thing I found, and helped you put it
on.”

She
eyed him. “That’s it?”

His
lower teeth slid across his lower lip and he gave a slight nod. “Yeah.”

Emotions
pinged back and forth through her mind between gratitude that he remained a
gentleman in such a circumstance and being insulted that he hadn’t wanted her
enough. She decided on the high road…grateful. “You’re a gentleman.”

He
gathered her hands. “Please, don’t ever test me like that again.”

She
liked the sound of that. “Okay.”

He
looked like he wanted to say something more. Instead he watched her, the pulse
in his neck ticking.

She
smelled the rose. On the chaise…the flower. “If we didn’t sleep together, then
what I’m remembering with the flower, did it happen?”

“I
don’t know what you recall, but the rose did play a part in what we did last
night.” He leaned forward. Very gently, he touched the back of her head.

The
area smarted.

“The
knot is a lot smaller. Does it hurt?”

She
must have hit something when she fell. “Not much.” Her mind had played lots of
tricks on her, leaving her unable to determine what was real or fiction. “Did
we go inside the schoolhouse?”

He
glided the back of his finger from her temple down to her jawline. “No.”

If
they didn’t, then the romantic scene between them didn’t happen? An ache of
emptiness swelled in her chest. An occurrence she couldn’t explain or
understand.

The
fear that jolted her awake in a sweat rushed forward. Men on horseback raced
through the field toward them while they hid in the schoolhouse.

She
eyed Larry.

He
smiled. He didn’t look like someone who had anyone chasing him.

Curiosity
over what they actually did with the rose nagged her. Were they naked?
Charlene’s stomach flip-flopped, telling her to leave that question unasked.
Another thing that bothered her was when she first saw Larry, she’d called him
Ben. The name had slipped out without thought. Had she dreamed him up? “Who’s
Ben?”

He
chuckled.

The
sexy, masculine sound tightened her stomach like endorphins.

“Your
mind is playing tricks on you?”

She
nodded.

For
several seconds, he watched her as if trying to gather his thoughts.

Any
minute, he would realize she was crazy and leave. Not able to recall kissing someone
or anything that might have passed between them was unforgiveable in her book. She
hoped it wasn’t in his.

His
pupils grew darker. The gold flecks in his irises shined brighter. Shockingly,
he cupped her face. Testosterone oozed from him. Her intelligible thoughts
fled.

“Let
me remind you.” His heated eyes closed with the tilt of his head. Tender lips
connected with hers.

Desire,
hot, intense, and needy, throbbed through her body. The scrape of his teeth
over her bottom lip renewed her memory of the sizzling, passionate kisses they
shared.

Location
and time were overrated. The details might come back to her later. If not, who
cares? She parted her lips, inviting him in.

He
deepened the kiss. A low, guttural moan vibrated. One hand slid to the nape of
her neck. The other traveled down her spine, massaging and sending sparks of
pleasure through the silk. His adventurous palm rested on the small of her back
and pressed her closer. The kiss lasted until she grew so hot and damp, she
didn’t think she could speak, and eased back.

“Whoa,”
he panted. Confusion and longing settled in his enlarged pupils.