Susan Mallery Fool's Gold Series Volume One: Chasing Perfect\Almost Perfect\Sister of the Bride\Finding Perfect (65 page)

“We should stop talking about this,” he suggested. “You need to relax, not relive the event.” He rose. “I'll leave you to your bath.”

Not sure if she wanted him to stay or not, she watched him leave. After placing her glass of wine on the tile surround, she settled back in the water and closed her eyes.

As she did, she remembered the feel of the man's hand on her arm, the rush of air as he barreled into her, pushing her to the ground. She reached up and lightly touched the left side of her face. It was painful and swollen but not too bad. It could have been a lot worse.

She drew in a deep breath and tried to relax. This time when she closed her eyes, she saw Ethan, which was a much better picture. She smiled, thinking about
him
smiling. She thought about how he was with both Tyler and her nieces. How he looked after his mom and sisters. He had a strong sense of family. A need to belong to a community. He was his father's son.

He'd gotten Rayanne pregnant and had done the right thing. That's who he was. He would do the right thing now. She knew the character of the man and was willing to admit that twelve years ago, he'd still been a kid. Not mature enough to stand up for the woman he claimed to love. Or maybe he hadn't loved her enough. But that was the past and if they were to work anything out, she had to be willing to let it go. The fact that he might not have cared about her as much as she'd cared about him didn't change the fact that they had a son together and decisions had to be made.

It also didn't change the fact that she loved him more now than ever. Time had allowed her to pretend it was over, but she'd been fooling herself. So what was it to be? A second chance with the only man she'd ever loved? Did she allow pride and mistakes to keep them apart forever? There was no guarantee that Ethan felt the same way, but maybe it was time to find out.

She pulled the plug on the tub and stood. After drying off, she wrapped herself in the bathrobe he'd left for her and walked out into the master bedroom.

Ethan stood by the fireplace, staring at the flames.
He didn't hear her, didn't turn. She was able to study the handsome lines of his face, the stiffness in his body, as if he were forcing himself to do something he didn't want to do.

Or preventing himself from doing something he did.

“Ethan?”

He visibly shuddered, but didn't turn to look at her. “I'll drive you home.”

“Isn't your mom expecting me to stay here tonight?”

“It's not a good idea.” He swore under his breath. “You were attacked today. Attacked. He hit you. All I can think about is how I want to beat the shit out of him. And when I'm not thinking about that, I keep seeing you in the tub. I keep wanting…”

He swallowed. “I'm sorry.”

“For what? For wanting me?”

He looked at her, then. “Doesn't that make me the biggest jerk ever? A totally insensitive guy only interested in taking?”

“Would you only be taking?”

“You know what I mean.”

His guilt was charming, she thought. His feeling bad only made her want to be with him more.

She whispered his name. When he turned to face her, she slowly, deliberately, shrugged out of her bathrobe, letting it fall to the floor. She stood naked in front of him.

His intake of air was audible in the quiet room, then he moved toward her. Lunged was more like it. When
he reached her, he touched the uninjured side of her face with one hand and placed his other hand on her waist. He didn't have to draw her to him. She went willingly, surrendering with the first kiss.

His mouth was hot and hungry, his lips pressing against hers. Her mouth parted for him immediately. He swept into her mouth, their kisses both arousing and achingly familiar.

She felt the soft brush of his well-washed jeans against her thighs. Her breasts flattened against his shirt. Wanting heated her blood and made her long for him to touch her everywhere. She tilted her head and wrapped her arms around his neck.

His tongue stroked against hers. She closed her lips around him and sucked gently, causing him to groan. When he did the same to her, she felt the tug clear down to her belly. Her breasts swelled, as did that place between her legs.

He dropped both hands to her waist, then moved them lower, gliding over bare skin. He explored the curve of her hips before slipping around to graze his fingertips along the curve of her butt. The sensation was as ticklish as it was exciting and she shivered.

He kissed his way down the side of her neck. Warm, damp lips teased her skin. He licked the skin just below her earlobe, then nipped and made her gasp. Then he bent lower and took her left nipple in his mouth. He licked the tight tip, before sucking deeply, pulling her into his mouth.

The tugging sensation wove its way through her whole body. She had to hold on to Ethan to stay standing. Over and over he sucked and licked and then blew on her damp skin. She shuddered in response. As he moved to the other breast, he slipped his hand between her legs and found her damp, waiting center.

She immediately parted her legs. He moved his fingers against her, circling that one swollen spot over and over. Then he dropped to his knees, parted her with his fingers and kissed her intimately.

His tongue brushed against her with just the right amount of pressure. The steady rhythm made it impossible to breathe. Her legs shook and she could barely stand. When he thrust a finger inside her, she had to bend over and put her hand on his shoulders to stay upright.

Stop. He had to stop. They could go to the bed and lie down and then she would…

Only she didn't want him to stop. Not when everything about the moment was so perfect. Not when her muscles tensed and the wanting grew and she knew she was closer and closer. There was only the man and how he made her feel. There was only the sensation and pressure and tension and need. He closed his mouth over her clit and sucked. At the same time he pushed deep inside of her, curving his finger slightly and stroking the very center of her body.

She came with an explosion that made her gasp his
name. Shudders of release claimed her. He touched her until she had drawn the last drop of pleasure, then caught her as she collapsed into his arms.

“It's all right,” he whispered into her hair.

“Easy for you to say,” she murmured. “You're not the one who's naked.”

“I can change that.”

She looked into his dark eyes and smiled. “Would you?”

In the time it took her to get to her feet and walk to the bed, he had pulled off his clothes. Together they drew back the covers, then she patted the mattress.

“Right here,” she told him.

“What are you going to do to me?” he asked, his eyes bright with humor and anticipation.

“Everything.”

* * *

L
IZ AND
E
THAN ARRIVED BACK AT
her place about eight the following morning. If Denise suspected how they'd spent the night, she didn't say anything.

“Everyone slept fine,” she relayed as she collected her purse.

“Did you?” Ethan asked.

“I did okay. I wanted to check on them a few times in the night, just to make sure no one was having nightmares.” She yawned. “All right. Maybe I didn't exactly get my full eight hours. I'm heading home now. After church I plan to doze in my chair. It will be good practice for when I'm old.”

Ethan kissed her cheek. “You'll never be old.”

“I wish.”

“Thanks for staying here,” Liz said, hugging her.

“After what you'd been through, you needed a break. I'm happy I could help.”

Sunday was a lazy day of strolling around town, followed by lunch and a movie. Ethan hung out with them. Liz did her best to act normal so none of the kids would suspect that she and Ethan had behaved like more than friends the night before. At least thinking about sex meant she didn't have to think about her attacker.

Since she didn't know what making love with Ethan had meant, there was no reason to talk about it. Not that she would anyway. But it was difficult not to think about it or try to assign various meanings to their time together. It was a bit stressful, so by Monday she was ready to have her life back.

Unfortunately, the town didn't cooperate. She spent the day fielding visitors who stopped by to check on her. About ten-thirty, after her doorbell rang for the fifth time, she accepted the fact that she wasn't going to get any work done. At least not that day.

She already had a collection of casseroles in the freezer, salads in the refrigerator and enough cookies to make the kids do the happy dance for weeks. When the doorbell rang again, she braced herself for yet another visit where they would discuss her stalker fan, relive the attack, her rescue and crow over the fact that because she'd been in
Fool's Gold when it had happened, all was well. She wasn't expecting to find Dakota and Tyler on the porch.

“What's going on?” she asked.

Dakota held up a hand. “Don't panic. Everything is fine. I was heading into town when Tyler said he wanted to come home and talk to you.”

Liz looked at her son. He stared more at the ground than her, but there was something about the set of his shoulders that made her worry.

“Okay. That's fine.” She opened the door wider.

Dakota looked curious, but only said, “You can take him back to camp later if you want or have him stay home. Just phone the office and let us know which.”

“I will,” Liz promised.

Dakota waved and left.

Liz followed her son into the living room. Instead of sitting he turned to face her.

His dark eyes, so like Ethan's, were bright with emotion. He pressed his lips together, as if gathering his thoughts, then spoke.

“You should have married Dad.”

She held in a groan. Not exactly a turn she expected the conversation to take, and not a concept she looked forward to explaining.

“Is this about what that woman said on Saturday?” she asked, doing her best to sound calm.

“Sort of. Parents get married.”

“Some do. Some don't.”

Tyler glared at her. “I wanted to know my dad. I kept
asking and asking and you wouldn't tell me. You wouldn't say anything. It's not fair.” His voice escalated exponentially.

“Okay, if we're going to have this conversation, we're going to sit down and we're going to speak calmly. If you're going to get upset and yell, I'm not talking to you.”

“Fine,” he grumbled and collapsed on the sofa, his arms folded across his chest.

She sat on the coffee table in front of him, so they were facing each other.

“When I found out I was pregnant, I was terrified. I was only four years older than Melissa. Do you think she's ready to be a mom?”

He shook his head but didn't speak.

“I came back to tell your dad, but he was with someone else. A girl. And I was hurt and confused, so I left.”

“You should have stayed. You should have tried harder.”

“I know.”

“You should have,” Tyler repeated, his voice getting louder again. “He would have married you. I asked him and he said he would have married you. We would have been a family.”

She drew in a breath. “Tyler, please. I know you're upset, but I meant what I said. I'm not having a screaming match with you.” Especially not about this.

She reached out to touch his hand, but he jerked it
back. That hurt more than the questions, more than the accusations.

“He would have been my dad,” her son said more quietly.

What was she supposed to say to that? How could she explain?

“I was very young.”

“You keep saying that. I don't care. You were wrong.” His eyes filled with tears. “You kept me from my dad.”

Which is what this was about.

How was she supposed to explain about hurt pride and a bruised heart? Maybe she didn't.

“You're right,” she said again softly. “I did keep you from him. That wasn't my intent. I didn't mean to hurt either of you, but that's what happened and I'm sorry.”

“That's not good enough.” A tear slipped down his cheek. He looked away. “I needed my dad and he wasn't there.”

She thought about pointing out how she'd tried again five years ago, but fate, in the form of Rayanne, had intervened. Information Tyler would need at some point, but not now.

“I can't change the past,” she stated, feeling sick to her stomach.

“He would have come to get me,” Tyler told her, his voice fierce with emotion. “He would have wanted me with him.” He turned to glare at her. “I want to live with him. I want to live with my dad and not you.”

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

H
ELL CAME IN THE FORM OF A
pain that wouldn't go away. Ethan's rejection was nothing when compared with her only child telling her that he didn't want to live with her anymore. It was as if Tyler reached into her chest and pulled out her still-beating heart and threw it in the trash. She couldn't think, couldn't breathe. All she knew was that she couldn't cry in front of him because it might upset him. An irrational, maternal response that came from instinct.

She stood, amazed that her legs still worked, then walked into the kitchen.

“Did you hear me?” he yelled, following her. “I don't want to live with you. I want to live with my dad.”

Each breath sliced through her like a knife. She half expected to see blood pouring out of her body, pooling at her feet. It felt like she was dying. Truly no death could be worse.

After finding Denise's phone number, she turned to Tyler.

“I heard you,” she said quietly. “I need to make a call, then we're leaving.”

“I don't want to go back to camp.”

“Good, because you're not.” Liz couldn't imagine making the drive. She was in no shape to negotiate the mountain road and surely shouldn't be behind the wheel of anything dangerous.