Confused, embarrassed, wondering if she’d misread the signals, she opened her eyes and was snared instantly by his gaze. Only then, when they were connected—eye to eye—did Reece’s lips settle over her own.
He robbed her of air with the first touch of his mouth.
With the second touch, he gave her his breath and with the third, took inside of him everything she had to give.
Just that easily she was lost.
Just that easily she was his.
Reece teased her, played with her—his lips soft and gentle and coaxing—until she moaned and melted against him. Until she opened to him.
Then his tongue swept inside, toying with her, tasting her, and Sarah met him stroke for stroke, letting her tongue tangle sweetly with his.
Following his example, she tasted him, too. Caught his lower lip between her teeth and sucked until he groaned, his hands tightening where they were buried in her curls. He tasted delicious—exotic. Salty like the ocean. Fresh like the rain. Tart like the lemonade that was her favorite treat.
His mouth hardened at her uninhibited response, took command, devoured her, until all she could think of was him. Until all she could want was him. She was sinking, drowning, awash in layers of sensation she’d never before imagined.
He pulled back a little and she whimpered, lifting her own arms to wrap around his neck and hold him in place. Hold him to her. She knew she should let him stop, but she didn’t want to let him go. Couldn’t let him go, if she was being honest. The need was growing in her, making her body pulse, making her ache like she hadn’t ached in six long years. Longer. Maybe forever. The thought had her heart beating too fast and her lungs burning for air. Tightening her arms around him, she pressed herself more fully against him and gave herself up to him. Totally. Completely.
His mouth grew more urgent, his kisses deeper and darker and oh, so devastating. He pulled back slowly this time, kissing the corners of her mouth. Sweet licks that had heat shimmying through her. Soft nibbles that had her body straining to be closer to him. Sharp nips that both enticed and commanded.
And when he ran his tongue over her top lip then under it, she nearly imploded. The warmth that had already seeped into her very pores erupted, shot flames into every part of her.
She moaned low in her throat, and just that easily his kiss went from gentle to rough. Exciting. Devastating. He shifted, pushing her down until she was prone on the sofa and his body covered hers. His hard, sexy heavily muscled body.
As he settled between her thighs, his erection pressed against her and she arched into the delicious pressure. It was her turn to bite at him, to suck his tongue into her mouth. His answering thrusts told her how much he’d enjoyed her uncharacteristic boldness.
Breathless, she tilted her head to offer him her jaw, her throat. To offer him everything, though she knew that she wasn’t ready. That he wasn’t ready. That they weren’t ready. But at this moment, with his body against hers, with her body tense and tormented, it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except—
“Shit.” Reece ripped his mouth from hers, then lay panting—his face buried in the couch cushion—for long seconds. She wanted to howl, to weep, to beg him to continue before her long-dormant body spontaneously combusted.
“What’s wrong?” she gasped, her hands running frantically down his back. “Reece, why—”
“The baby.” It was a groan—low, harsh and nearly unrecognizable. At first she didn’t understand. Then she heard Rose’s cries turning into high-pitched wails.
“I’ve got her.” Reece sat up slowly, and it was all she could do to keep her eyes from his obvious arousal.
“No.” She slipped out of his arms before he could protest. Or she could forget about her baby, crying. “It’s my turn. You put her down.”
“But—”
She shot him a smile as she took one trembling step toward the stairs, not sure her shaky legs would actually support her. But her knees locked and she managed to stay upright. “I’ll be back in a few minutes. Okay?”
He nodded, his face solemn, his eyes black with desire. “I’ll be here.”
It took longer than a few minutes to comfort Rose and get her back to sleep. It was too early for another bottle and the baby didn’t seem hungry so much as in need of some cuddling from her mother.
As she rocked, she thought of Rose and Reece, Johnny and Justin. And Vanessa. Sarah thought of her friend most of all. She could still feel Reece’s lips on her own, knew if she were to look in a mirror her mouth would be swollen from his kisses. She wanted him still, needed him with an intensity that bordered on madness. Even as she sat here in the dark holding his child, her child—Vanessa’s child—her body burned for his.
How could she have done this, how could she be doing it still? This was Reece. Reece.
Vanessa’s husband.
Rose’s father.
Sarah’s friend.
How could she want him when everything she believed marked him as off-limits? How could she hunger for him when she knew that the last woman he’d made love to had been her best friend?
Sarah shuddered at the thought, her body tensing even more with horror. She had to stop this, had to find a way to make it right.
Because no matter how badly she wanted Reece, she couldn’t have him. He already belonged to someone else.
CHAPTER NINE
“I’VE GOT TO GO to California.”
The words echoed in the kitchen, and for long moments Sarah’s brain simply wouldn’t comprehend what Reece was telling her. It had been a long night, one she’d spent dozing upright in the rocking chair, a fitful Rose in her arms. Every time she’d thought the baby was in a deep sleep and had tried to put her in the crib, Rose had woken screaming, her hands clutching desperately at Sarah. She’d finally concluded the baby was getting sick and had abandoned all attempts to put her down. Instead, Sarah caught whatever sleep she could sitting upright holding Rose.
She’d heard Reece going to bed some time after eleven. His footsteps had hesitated outside the closed door of the nursery for long, heart-wrenching seconds before continuing on.
And she had known that he was as unsettled by what had happened as she was. That he was as conflicted. And she had known, even then, that he would attempt to back away as far and as fast as he could.
But an unplanned business trip nearly two thousand miles away? Surely that was taking things too far.
“When did this come up?” she asked as she poured herself a large mug of coffee and took a long, slow slip. It didn’t wake up her foggy brain, but it did chase the worst of the cobwebs away.
“Matt called this morning. Said things were falling apart at the site and that the situation needs my touch.” He wouldn’t meet her eyes, might as well have been talking to the wall for all the attention that he paid her.
Anger built. She tried to shove it down. To ignore it. After all, it wouldn’t change anything and it certainly would not get her the answers she needed.
“When are you leaving?” She continued to watch him over the rim of her cup, even knowing that it made him uncomfortable. Maybe because she knew it did.
“This morning.” He glanced at his watch. “I’ve got an eleven o’clock flight.”
He was a fast worker. As it was already after eight, he’d have to leave for the airport in the next fifteen minutes. Which left no time for questions. No time for arguments or recriminations. She took another sip of coffee, struggled to hold on to her calm demeanor.
“How long will you be gone?”
“I don’t know.” He dumped his uneaten cereal down the garbage disposal, then used the noise as an excuse to avoid talking to her.
When he turned around, his eyes were distant, his face carefully blank. “Two weeks,” he said. “Maybe three, if it’s not an easy fix.”
Three weeks? Confirmation that the trip was an excuse to get out of an uncomfortable situation. An excuse to get away from her.
A chill swept through her despite the hot tempe
rature outside. He was walking out, leaving them. He hadn’t said the words, but she recognized the signs. She’d been here before. I’ll be gone a couple of weeks. Famous last words.
Her father’s voice echoed in her head, blending with her husband’s. The couple of weeks had turned into months, then years, until Sarah had forgotten what they’d looked like. What had made her think she should expect more for her children? It wasn’t like she hadn’t been anticipating this.
That was the kicker. She had known better, had told herself this very thing would happen when Reece had moved in months ago. Had spent the first two months waiting for the slam of the door behind him.
But he’d convinced her that he wasn’t like that, had taken such an interest in her sons and their daughter that she had let herself believe. That she had let herself think maybe, just maybe, he wouldn’t walk away from them as casually as her parents had walked away from her.
She’d been wrong and had only herself to blame. She pictured the boys’ confused faces when they learned that Uncle Reece had left without saying goodbye. She pictured them waiting for him to come back, clinging to the hope only children could have.
Her children didn’t deserve this—she didn’t deserve this. They had done nothing but open their hearts to him and he was cutting at the first sign of trouble? What a coward. If it wasn’t for the children, she’d be damned glad to be rid of him.
“Well, if—”
“Sarah, I—”
They spoke at once and both stopped after the first few awkward words. When he didn’t speak, she said, “You should probably go. Traffic’s bad in the morning and you don’t want to miss your flight.”
Reece studied the wall behind her head. “You’re probably right.” He started to turn away then stopped. “I’m sorry. I know the timing of this trip is crappy.”
“Not really. I think it will be a good break—for both of us.” She was proud of how even her voice was, how calm, when what she really wanted to do was rage at him. But she forced a smile, even managed a small pat to his shoulder. “Well, take care. Have a safe flight.”
“I’ll call you.” His voice was low, uncertain. One small corner of her brain registered just how unusual that was, but the rage blinded her against trying to figure out what that uncertainty meant.
“You don’t have to.” She started up the stairs.
“I mean, to check on Rose. And the boys.”
For how long? she wanted to demand. For a few days? A few weeks? Until he forgot they existed? How long could she expect him to remember to pick up the phone?
“Of course. I’m sure they’d like to hear your voice.”
“All right, then.” He picked up his suitcase—his very large, very bulky suitcase that reinforced that he was planning for a long stay. “I’ll talk to you soon.”
“Sure.” She paused at the top of the steps and looked down at him. “Good luck.”
“Sarah—”
“I’ve got to take a shower,” she said, “or I’ll be late for my client appointment.”
“Oh, shit. I was supposed to babysit Rose.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll think of something.”
“Think of what?”
“It’s not your problem.” She pointed to the clock. “You need to go.”
His eyes followed her finger. “I’m sorry, Sarah.”
“Don’t worry about it. I certainly won’t.”
She walked into her bedroom without another backward glance, closing the door behind her. Less than a minute later she heard the front door open and close. Tears welled in her eyes, but she refused to shed them. Instead, she wrapped her arms around herself and sank to the floor. She concentrated on taking deep breaths, telling herself that as long as she was breathing she wouldn’t fall apart.
But it was a lie. She could feel her heart—already so fragile—crack in half at Reece’s departure.
* * *
HE FELT LIKE A TOTAL ASSHOLE. The look on Sarah’s face as she’d climbed the stairs haunted Reece still, nearly two weeks after he’d run away from her like the coward he hadn’t known he was.
But what was he supposed to do? Stay when he wanted her so badly he could barely see straight? Take her when he wasn’t ready to take anyone, let alone his wife’s best friend? Use her when she’d already given—and given up—so much?
What other choice had he had but to leave? If he’d remained in that house with her and the kids, he would have made love to her. And she would have let him. Maybe not that night or the next, but soon, when the hormones and the emotions were too much for them.
Then where would they be? Their friendship ruined, the arrangement they had destroyed. And for what? Some great sex that went nowhere? No, he assured himself as he slowly got dressed, he had done the right thing. Even if it hadn’t looked like it from his spot in the cheap seats.
Sarah had been devastated, his rejection hurting her much more than he’d dreamed possible. She hadn’t wanted to hear his explanations. He had called her numerous times but had only spoken to her twice. And on those occasions, she had let the boys do most of the talking, claiming that Rose had a cold and she was busy taking care of her.
Frustration ate at him until he felt like a wild animal in a trap—unable to find a way out and willing to chew off his own foot in order to escape. He wanted her to understand that he’d done what he had to protect her.
“Are you ready?” Matt poked his head into the living area of the two-bedroom suite their clients had put them up at. “We’re going to be late for dinner.”
“Yeah. Let me grab a jacket. I’m still not used to how cold it is in this city.”
“It’s San Francisco.” Matt had his own jacket over his arm and headed for the door. “You should be grateful we’re not suffering through the hundred-degree heat that’s still swamping Austin, man.”
“I guess.” Reece checked to make sure he had his keycard and wallet before following his partner into the hall.
“Well I, for one, am enjoying it. I was just at Fisherman’s Wharf—that place is so cool.”
“You think anywhere there’s water is cool.”
“Well, yeah. I still can’t believe you land locked me in the middle of Texas. We so should have set up business somewhere near a beach.”
“So you could surf all day and I could do all the work?”
“There a problem with that?” Matt shot him a well-duh look that would normally have had him grinning, but today Reece couldn’t work up even a twitch of his lips.
“Hey, what’s going on?” Matt asked. “You look worse than you have in months.”
“I don’t know. Tired, I guess.”
“With all the tossing and turning you do at night, it’s no wonder.”
It was his turn to shoot Matt a look. “How do you know whether I’m tossing or turning at night?”
“Thin walls, man.” Matt held up his hands in a peace-making gesture. “Your room is right next to mine.”
“I kissed Sarah.” The words were out before he could stop them and Reece shuddered as he awaited his friend’s reaction.
“No kidding, really?” Matt’s eyebrows shot up as they stepped onto the empty elevator. “When?”
“Ten days—”
“Of course. That’s why you came running out here like a cat with its tail on fire. I thought it was ’cause you didn’t trust me.”
Reece didn’t bother to grace that comment with an answer—he knew exactly how warped Matt’s sense of humor was. “I needed to get away from her for a while.”
“It was that bad?” Matt stared at him incredulously as they made their way through the lobby. “I can’t believe that. Sarah is fine!”
Reece punched him in the arm. “I swear, you still think like a frat boy.”
“Hey, once a Pike, always a Pike.”
“Well, grow up. It’s not that it was bad—”
“So it was good?”
“Why do I even bother to talk to you? It’s l
ike conversing with a sixteen-year-old.”
“What does it say about you, then, that I’m the best friend you’ve got?”
“I shudder to imagine.” Reece kept his voice dry, but the truth was Matt’s antics were lifting his mood—exactly as his friend had probably intended. Reece still wanted to put his fist through the nearest wall, but at least the urgency was gone.
“So seriously, then,” Matt said as he climbed into the driver’s seat of the black Lexus he had rented. The guy had a serious thing for black cars—refused to drive anything else because of the cool factor. “What has you so freaked out? She’s a beautiful woman, you’re an okay-looking guy. You’ve already got a kid together. Seems like a match made in heaven.”
“She’s Vanessa’s best friend.” Reece stared at him in disbelief. How was it that Matt couldn’t figure out what was stressful about the situation? But then a look at his friend’s face told him not only had Matt figured it out, but also he wanted to downplay it as much as possible.
The car fell silent for a few minutes.
“Vanessa’s dead, Reece. She isn’t coming back,” Matt said quietly.
It took all his self-control not to punch Matt. “I’m well aware of that. More so, I think, than you are.”
“I didn’t mean it like that, Reece. I meant, you have a daughter who needs her mother and two little boys who look up to you like a father. Would it be so bad—”
“It hasn’t even been a year yet.”
“I know that.” Matt fixed his hands on the wheel. “But will it be better in a year or two? After Sarah’s given up on you and moved on to someone else?”
“You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”
“Don’t I? Reece, she’s a beautiful, intelligent woman with two little boys who need a father. How long do you think it’ll be before she goes shopping for one?”
“Sarah’s not like that.” God help him if she was, because he could scarcely control the jealousy at the mere thought of her looking at another man.
“Like what? From what you’ve told me, her husband left six years ago. Why wouldn’t she want to get married again?”