A strange, ragged sound escaped her. “Let’s, uh, go sit on the…”
That was as far as she got. Because right then, he reached out those big, hardworking hands and grasped her shoulders.
Another wordless sound found its way past her lips. It wasn’t supposed to be a moan. But it sure sounded like one.
He pushed the door shut with the heel of his steel-toed work boot—gently, so it drifted closed with no more than a faint click. Then he pulled her even closer. It felt so good, her breasts pressing into his hard chest, the warmth of him, the clean scent of his skin.
She gulped again, caught one of his hands and gave it a tug. “The sofa,” she said.
He had that look, like he was going to sweep her high in his arms and take her up the stairs to her room. But he didn’t. “Sure, Riley. The sofa it is.”
Before she could throw herself at him all over again and beg him to kiss her and carry her to bed, she turned on her heel and marched from the entry area, past the stairs and into the living room.
He didn’t object, just followed along behind her, his heavy boots firm on the hardwood floor.
Leading him past an armchair and around the coffee table, she stopped in front of the sofa. “Have a seat.”
He turned and sat. She sank down beside him.
Where to begin? She wanted to prepare him a little. It seemed all wrong to just blurt it out in a guilty rush.
While she valiantly sought the right words, he bent, untied the heavy laces of his big boots and then pulled one off and set it at the end of the coffee table. Still unsure how to start, she watched as he took off the other boot and set it by the first one.
“Rile?” His voice was soft now, like velvet. It rubbed along her nerve endings, reminding her all over again of how good it felt when he touched her.
She answered with a breathless little, “Hmm?”
“You okay?”
“Ahem. Yeah. Of course…”Tell him. Do it now!What was the matter with her? He needed to know, and it was her responsibility to tell him. “I just…”
“You just what?” he asked. And then, as she struggled over how to answer, he put his arm along the back of the sofa and leaned in a little closer, bringing his wonderful scent of cedar and a hint of leather. His breath was minty. The longing to throw herself into his arms increased with each beat of her heart. “Okay,” he said. “Now I’m getting worried…”
“Oh! No, don’t be. I’m fine, really. Perfect, I promise you.”I’m also a big, fat coward,she thought.
His expression had turned serious. “Want me to go?”
She bit her lip and let out a silly, weak little moan. “God, no…” With a small cry, she gave in and did what she longed to do—she reached for him.
He pulled her close and wrapped those fine arms around her.
Their mouths collided.
One more time, she thought desperately as his big hand closed around her breast.Just once more. And before he leaves tonight, I will tell him what he needs to know…
* * *
“You can’t be serious,” Riley’s best friend, Macy Bravo, accused in a whisper late the next afternoon. “Youstillhaven’t told him?”
Macy, who was married to Josh’s second cousin, Joe, had dropped in about an hour ago. She’d brought her eight-year-old, Ana, and her baby boy, Justin, who was now sound asleep surrounded by pillows lying on the sofa between Riley and Macy.
As for Ana, she’d led Riley’s son, Dillon, into the study on the other side of the entry area. Riley could hear her in there bossing Dillon around. “Sit right there,” Ana instructed crisply. “And be very quiet or I won’t read another word.”
Dillon said nothing. Riley could just picture him, sitting yoga-style on the study floor, rapt. Both Dillon and Josh’s son, Shane, adored Ana. Ana read to them from her favorite books and came up with fun games to play and never had any trouble keeping the boys in line.
“Earth to Riley,” Macy whispered sharply.
“Uh, sorry. Just listening to the kids…”
