The Love Series Complete Box Set (137 page)

“No, you know what . . .”

“I’ll stay.”

Our words run over each other once again, as they have a few times before. Strange how that happens.

Hugging him once more, I nearly cry at how safe I feel knowing I won’t be alone tonight. “Thank you. I’m sorry to . . .”

“Lucy, please. Stop with the ‘I’m sorrys.’” He cups my jaw and plants a soft kiss to the corner of my mouth. “There is nowhere I’d rather be right now.” After kissing the other corner of my mouth just as sweetly as he kissed the first, he wraps his arm around my shoulder. “Come on, let’s get you to bed now.” And we walk up the narrow stairs arm in arm.

I step into the adjoining bathroom when we get to my room. After washing my face and brushing my teeth, I stare at myself in the mirror. To say it’s weird being in this room with another man is a huge understatement, but it also feels strangely normal.

When I go back out into my room, Evan is slouched over on the edge of the bed, elbows resting on his thighs, cradling his head in his hands—his shoes and socks in a pile on the floor. I guess tonight took a toll on him too.

“Bathroom’s all yours. I left you out a new toothbrush too.” I smile lamely, trying to ease the tension of the night.

“Thanks. I’ll be right out.” As he walks past me, I catch the scent of his cologne and immediately feel calmer, more at ease.

I make quick work of changing and climb into bed, sheer and utter exhaustion washing over me the second I hit the pillow. When Evan comes back into the room, I fold back the comforter for him to get under the blankets. Fully clothed, he wiggles under the blankets.

“You don’t have to sleep in your jeans, Evan. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

“Sleeping in bed with a beautiful woman and having to keep my hands to myself is going to be challenging enough.”

My cheeks heat and I thank God the only light in the room is the muted glow of the moon as a few clouds pass in the night sky.

I never said he had to keep his hands to himself. Must be his own idea at chivalry or something like that.

I decide to drop it, not wanting to make him feel uneasy—not wanting to make
me
feel uneasy. But as he lies back, he squirms in place. Shifting and moving restlessly, he finally forfeits the fight with his pants. Standing abruptly, he shucks them down and quickly climbs back into bed. “Fine. You were right. Happy now?” he snips with more than a little playfulness in his words.

I stifle the “I told you so” that’s dancing on the tip of my tongue and cuddle up next to him instead. Nuzzling into the side of his warm body, I smile against his t-shirt-covered chest. “Yes, very happy.”

Resting his cheek atop my head, I feel his smile as well. “Good, then I’m happy too. Now, let’s get some rest.”

I angle my head up to him as he stares hungrily down at me. He reaches out to me, stroking his hand across my cheek for a moment before pulling my face up to his. His lips dance softly along mine, sensually and teasingly at the same time. He rolls to his side and he runs his rough hand up and down my arm, leaving a million points of dotted flesh in its wake. My nipples stiffen under my shirt and he has to feel their hardened points pressing into his chest.

The growing erection settled against my belly makes me fully aware of how I’m affecting him. I press against him, moaning into our kiss. A whimper flies out when he pulls away. “Did I do something wrong?” I search his face for some kind of answer.

He smiles sexily at me, rubbing his hand up and down my arm again. “No, you definitely didn’t do anything wrong. It’s just with everything tonight . . . I don’t want this to be tainted by what happened earlier.” He pops a sweet, soft kiss to my forehead and squeezes me to his chest, accidentally copping a feel as he does so.

“You just grabbed my boob,” I giggle and look up at him. I laugh even harder when he does it again.

“Actually, it was just side-boob,” he chuckles and we both let out a deep exhale.

“Come on. Let’s get some rest,” he whispers against my hair and my eyes suddenly feel as if they’re weighed down with lead.

Cocooned in his warmth, encircled in his arms, bathed in his masculine scent, I fall asleep faster than I have in years.

Blinding sunlight fills the room. I roll away from it expecting to find Evan, but he’s gone. Reaching next to me, I discover I’m all alone, but the bed is still warm. Curling up around the pillow he used, I can still smell him. Sadness punches me in the gut; he’s left already.

I knew last night was just about being there for me after the house was broken into, but I was actually looking forward to waking up beside him. Not one to wallow around in self-pity for too long, I get out of bed and head down stairs to make some coffee and call Linda.

Just as I’m about to pull the coffee container out of the cabinet, I hear something out in the garage. Fear grips at me again. What if one of those guys got away? What if they came back? I hear loud clunks as someone climbs the three steps back into the house. With a heavy cast-iron frying pan in hand and ready to go, I stand beside the garage door.

It falls from my hands and crashes to floor when I see Evan coming back into the kitchen.

“Hey! What’s all this about?” He picks the pan up from the floor as I clutch at my chest like the damsel in distress that I so clearly appear to be right now.

Slinking down into a chair, I calm my racing heart and laugh at just how ridiculous the scene must have looked from his point of view.

“You weren’t in bed when I woke up, so I thought you left. Then I heard someone in the garage and I couldn’t exactly go in there and hide. The pan was there, so I just grabbed it.” He laughs and sits next to me.

“Why would I leave you?”

Shrugging my shoulders is probably the lamest response I can come up with, but that’s all I’ve got right now.

“Well, you didn’t want to take your pants off last night. And then you stopped when I was kissing you, so I figured you. . . .”

His loud, booming laughter cuts my words off abruptly. “Wait a second,” he chuckles, placing his hand on top of mine on the table. “You think that just because I didn’t want to get nearly naked with you last night after you could have been attacked that I didn’t want to be here in some way?” His quirked eyebrow and small smile reveal just how good looking he really is.

“I . . . well . . . I mean . . . yeah, I thought you felt obligated, like I was a burden, a pain in the ass, a helpless. . . . you can stop me anytime here.” I’m rambling and he’s letting me.

“And how would that be fun?” Winking at me, he stands and continues making the coffee I had just taken out. I scan the kitchen and into the living room office combo spreading out to the side of it, and I realize he must have gotten up early to clean for me.

Gratitude spreads warmly in my chest. Seeing my home back in order and knowing that he took care of it for me makes me fall for him even more than I already am.

But, falling for him or not, I can’t let him off the hook that easily. I lean up against the counter, facing him and crossing my arms. “Okay then, hot-shot. What was all the angsty, head-in-hands brooding about last night?”

After snapping the lid to the coffee container back in place, he slides the container back into the cabinet that I’m just now realizing is also fixed. “I’m not sure,” he says softly, shaking his head. “Maybe it was just being in your room. Mostly it had to do with knowing that you needed me and I failed you. I left you alone and you were almost hurt.”

His raw honesty cuts through me.

I slide over and squeeze in between him and the counter. His grey eyes are brewing a heavy storm and all I can think is that I want to get to know this complex man even better. But there’s something there that’s also telling me not push too much right now. Whatever is bothering him, whatever hero complex he might have, he has to share it on his own terms.

“Thanks for fixing that.” I tip my head back to the cabinet. “And for taking care of the rest of the place. It really means a lot to me.”

He lets out a sigh of relief and presses a kiss to my forehead, seemingly happy that I dropped the ‘almost being hurt’ subject. “No problem. I also cleaned up the mess in the garage. I didn’t want you to have to deal with it.”

The feeling of gratitude that settled in my chest moments ago morphs into something much more, but I push it down, knowing it’s just too soon to feel those kinds of things. The coffee pot beeps and he makes himself a cup, completely at ease in my kitchen once again. After he’s poured my mug, he looks over at me. “Sugar?”

“What?”

“No, sweetness. I was asking if you want sugar.”

“Oh, yes please.” My palms get all sweaty as embarrassment heats my chest, neck and face.

“That’s a nice shade of red, Lucy,” he snickers and drops a spoonful of sugar into my mug. After topping it off with a little bit of half-and-half, he hands me the mug and sits next to me.

There are so many things running through my head, so many things I want to ask him about how he’s feeling, what he thought about last night—the date part, not the breaking and entering.

I want to ask him if he felt as at home as I did sleeping in bed with me last night, if he slept more soundly because I was next to him, just like I did because he was there.

Afraid of the answers to those questions, I opt for something much simpler. “So what’s on your agenda for today?” Since we didn’t fall asleep until the early hours of the morning, we didn’t get out of bed until almost eleven.

“I actually have a furniture delivery coming in,” he looks down at his watch, “oh shit, in like twenty minutes. I completely forgot.” He goes to dump out his coffee, but I stop him and offer a to-go mug. Partly because he shouldn’t have to go without coffee after being up so late, but mostly because it might give him a reason to come back here.

Pathetic, right?

I walk him to the door for the second time in about twelve hours, but this goodbye is much more rushed than the one from last night. A quick peck on the cheek and an, “I’ll call you later,” and he’s out the door.

With my back pressed up against the closed and locked door, I try to calm my fluttering heart. The knock from the other side of the door scares the ever-living crap out of me. I take a look through the peephole and laugh when I see Evan on the other side.

“I just wanted to make sure that you locked it behind me.” He’s leaning his hip up against the frame, looking sexy as hell. “Oh and this too.”

His hand dives into my hair at my nape, his large and calloused fingers wrapping gently around my neck, tipping it back just enough to unleash the kiss of all kisses on my lips. When his tongue brushes up against mine, my legs buckle and I groan into his mouth.

His lips, so sensual and soft, feel more than heavenly on mine. His arms, so strong and capable, crush me to his body.

I stretch up on my toes and lace my fingers into his silky hair, the silvery silkiness softer than anything I imagined. “Evan,” I mumble breathlessly against his lips. He pulls my lower lip in between his teeth, nipping gently before licking over the same spot.

“Lucy,” he whispers as he rains down kisses across my jawline before planting a final, soft, wet kiss to that sweet spot right below my earlobe.

“Don’t forget to lock this behind me, sweetness.” He swipes his thumb across my bruised-by-his-kiss bottom lip. “I’ll call you soon. I promise.”

Chapter Thirteen

February 13, 2013

I’ve put off calling Lucy for a day or so, not wanting to appear too eager or excited. But, now, with Valentine’s Day tomorrow, I feel like I
have
to call; otherwise, I’ll look like a jerk. That’s the last thing I want her to think of me. Then again, I don’t want her to feel obligated about anything.

This is why I’ve avoided relationships. Too much confusion. Too much worrying about doing the right thing, about hurting someone’s feelings and sacrificing your own.

Yet despite all of those issues, there is something so down to earth about Lucy, so honest and real, that I just have this feeling in my gut that she’s different. The way her lips danced across mine, the way her soft body curled into my side, the way her eyes bore her soul—all told me she might just be worth it.