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  “He’s lucky he can’t remember. I can’t get the damn sounds out of my head.”

  And that was what was frustrating him. He didn’t need to tell her that; she could understand how sounds and memories could torment a person.

  She wasn’t sure what to say or how to offer him comfort so she sat silently, a firm grip on his hand to remind him he wasn’t alone.

  Maybe she should mention seeing a professional for help or perspective but she wasn’t sure that was her place. Perhaps not her place, but she’d discuss it with JJ if he didn’t seem better in the next few days.

  “I feel like an asshole for envying his ability to walk in here without crutches, no aches and pains and no memories. And then I feel guilty for feeling like an asshole.”

  “It’s a vicious cycle,” she murmured.

  “No kidding.”

  He finally met her gaze, reluctantly as if he was scared of what he would find when he looked at her.

  “For what it’s worth, you might be moody but you’re not an...asshole. You never have been and I don’t think you ever will be. It’s not in the Fairchild DNA. I think it’s normal to envy those doing better than you. Maybe a little bit of envy is healthy? It probably makes you work harder. Or maybe you’re wondering why he got to sit in the front where the airbags protected him more? But the reality is, the past is the past. He was in the front. You were in the back. Peter died. Ryan can’t remember the accident and you can’t forget it. Neither is right or wrong. Neither is totally good or bad. How you come out of this is a tribute to your character and those memories will make you a stronger person.”

  He stared at her for several long silent moments and she worried she’d gone too deep-and-mushy on him. As the moments ticked by her anxiety ratcheted up.

  “But what do I know,” she said when she couldn’t take the silence any longer. “I’ve never been in an accident like that before.”

  She offered him a smile and he squeezed her hand.

  “No,” he murmured. “You’re right.”

  He dropped his gaze to where their hands touched.

  “Totally right. It was luck of the draw and there’s not anything I can do to change the past. I couldn’t save Peter during the accident and I can’t bring him back now.”

  He took a deep breath and then looked up at her again. A little more of the tension had drained away and a slight smile graced his lips. “How’d you get so wise?”

  “It’s a gift,” she quipped and her stomach growled.

  He grinned and then his gaze skipped over her left shoulder.

  “What’s in the bag?” he asked as she stood.

  “A new outfit.”

  “Can I see?”

  His words brought a flush of awareness over her skin, a delicious ripple that turned into a tingle. He glanced first at the bag, then at her and she felt completely naked. The feeling was similar to the rush she’d felt when she’d looked into the mirror at the shop.

  “I—um—sure.”

  “Great.” The dark cloud surrounding him vanished as if it had never been. He was rather good at dialing back his emotions; perhaps he could teach her a thing or two.

  “Can’t wait,” he added and his grin kicked up a notch.

  Oh wow. Somewhere in the last few days she’d forgotten he could be this virile, so potent. But that smile, the way his eyes crinkled, it made her a little breathless, and more than a little weak in the knees. Looking at him right now, smiling at her like he couldn’t wait to get his hands on her; this was what she’d daydreamed about since she’d left for work this morning.

  If he had any idea how much she wanted to knock that computer aside and kiss him until they both forgot their own names, he would not be smiling at her like that.

  Needing a little air, she stood. He didn’t let go of her hand, rather he gave her a quick yank that made her fall toward him. He released her hand and clasped her cheek as she caught herself against the back of the sofa. Inches from his lips, he held her gaze, studied her slowly as if he could see into her soul.

  “I have a confession,” he whispered, “I’ve been wanting to do this since you left this morning.”

  He tugged her those remaining inches and sealed his lips across hers. A startled breath filled her lungs, pulling in his delicious scent. Spicy and woodsy yet clean and refreshing mixed with the Coke he’d been drinking when she arrived. The combination was enough to make her want to burrow against him.

  She positioned her right knee against his hip so she didn’t tumble into his lap and then gave herself over to the kiss. Eyes closed, they shared the same air, moved against each other until she didn’t know where he began and she ended. Fused at the lip, she trailed her free hand up the solid wall of his chest and groaned at the warm muscle beneath her fingertips. He really was a fantasy come to life.

  And if she didn’t pull away she was either going to pass out from oxygen deprivation or forget every reason that they shouldn’t play the horizontal hokey pokey right now.

  Tipping her forehead against his, she sucked in a lungful of air. “I should go cook dinner.”

  He nuzzled her neck and her nipples tightened against her boring old bra.

  “That’s one heck of a confession,” she whispered, letting her hands slide down his chest. She couldn’t help herself; she wanted to feel those muscles for as long as possible.

  “I take it I wasn’t alone in that…yearning.”

  Oh Lord, help her. Did his voice have to sound so deep and rough and sexy? Not to mention his blue eyes no longer bore a mask of pain. Right now they were sparkling and wicked with intent. And the way he was rubbing his thumb back and forth over her hip bones, well, her panties might just spontaneously combust.

  “Nope.” Her voice came out like a squeaking mouse.

  “I’ll work on that list,” he murmured. His tone implied that coming up with the finishing touches his condo needed was the very last thing he wanted to be doing. She couldn’t disagree with him there. She was hot all over and more than a little wet.

  No horizontal hokey pokey.

  Biting back a sigh, she straightened and he reached for his computer.

  How did he manage to make her so wanton with a single kiss? It’s not like he’d even touched her breasts or anywhere south of them for that matter. And yet a kiss was all he needed to make her want to strip naked right there in her living room, curtains wide open, and offer herself to him.

  She strode into the kitchen and opened the fridge. Admittedly, cooking for two was a luxury and she was enjoying it a lot. Normally she had left overs for a week even when she tried to cut a recipe in half or fourths.

  “Fajitas okay?” she called.

  “Can’t wait,” he called back.

  She’d just put the tortillas in the microwave to warm them up when she saw him step through the doorway. Heaven help her, she wanted a repeat performance of this morning, of yesterday afternoon. Heck, she wanted more than that.

  “Are you cold?” he asked, stepping closer.

  At least he was getting around better.

  “No.”

  “You’re shivering.”

  Because of you. That’s what he did to her.

  “I’ll survive,” she murmured, hoping that was the truth. Because right now she didn’t think she could keep on breathing if he didn’t kiss her, touch her, hold her.

  “Need anything?”

  Him? Did that count?

  “I’m pretty good with a knife.”

  “I’m almost done. Just heating up the tortillas.”

  “Smells good. Want me to set the table?”

  He smelled good. Even though the scent of cumin and coriander hung heavy in the air, she knew that if she stepped closer and inhaled deeply, his scent would intoxicate her.

  Focus on dinner, Gretchen. Easier thought than done.

  “We should eat outside. It’s at least sixty degrees out and you’ve been cooped up too long.”

  As he stared at her, she wished
she could read his mind.

  “That’d be great.”

  “Good.”

  He closed the distance between them. “I’m sorry I didn’t greet you properly, Gretchen. I’m sorry I’m so stuck in my own head, but never have any doubt, I’m thrilled about your business and admire your drive and success. I’m happy to help in any way I can.”

  He touched her shoulder, made an absent minded pattern along her upper arm. “Forgive me for being short with you. Forgive my jealousy that your life is going so well right now and mine is—“

  She held a finger against his lips. As apologises went, it was a pretty good one, but the heat in his gaze brought a fresh shiver to her shoulders.

  “Apology accepted.”

  He put his hands on her shoulders and pulled her closer. After staring at her for a long moment, studying her as if he was checking the validity of her statement, he cupped her cheeks and tipped her face up.

  Her insides tightened and then relaxed as his head dipped down and he sealed his lips to hers. Oh heavens. Her knees really would give out this time. She braced her hands against his chest, soaking in the feel of him. The play of muscle beneath her fingertips was sexy as sin. She’d never been with a man so built. So hard and unyielding. It did crazy things to her mind, made her think of how strong he was and how he’d have no trouble at all lifting her onto the counter-top, stepping between her legs—

  His tongue slipped between her lips and tentatively touched hers. He tasted like soda; hot, slick, and warm, Coca Cola had never tasted so good.

  The tender invasion set off a series of explosions inside her, starting at her breasts, traveling downward to her stomach, her clitoris, her toes, and zinging everywhere in between.

  She snaked her arms around his neck as she opened for his kiss. How was it possible that everything she’d always wanted, always needed was wrapped up in one kiss? One man? Did he know he was setting her free? Her previous experiences, those less than stellar forays into sex were a thing of the past. Completely and utterly replaced. She wasn’t frigid or weird or asexual.

  The old Gretchen would have been too shy to welcome him with open arms but the new one gave as good as she got. Shoving her fingers through his hair, she pressed herself against the hard contours of his body. He groaned and his hands fell away from her cheeks and then, a heartbeat later, wrapped around her.

  He wasn’t just setting her free; he was creating a monster. A needy monster who wanted the kiss, the feeling of unity and home and completion to go on forever.

  But her lungs burned from lack of oxygen and she reluctantly pulled back, gasping for air.

  He reached over and turned the stove off. Thank goodness he had the presence of mind to keep the food from burning. All she could do was stare up at him, wondering if all this could be real. Was she in bed dreaming? Hot dreams about Greg Fairchild were nothing new. In fact, if a week went by without a naughty visit from Dream Greg…

  He sighed and his left hand slid around to the small of her back. His heat branded through her turtle neck and the lazy shapes he drew against her spine made her melt against him. “That’s a relief.”

  Were they moving too fast?

  Nope! The answer was like her body’s battle cry. She’d been waiting, wondering, dreaming of a man who could make her feel so hot and reckless. Who could sweep away her doubts and insecurities and show her what passion really was. The fact that she had sizzling chemistry with the man she cared for so deeply…that was one heck of a bonus.

  “What are you thinking about? I can see the wheels turning.”

  His right thumb caressed her jaw and she came really close to swooning.

  Did she dare tell him what was really on her mind? Would she be able to open her mouth and tell him how turned on she was? How long she’d fantasized about him?

  “You,” she said simply.

  “What about me?”

  Spit it out, Gretchen. No guts, no glory girl.

  “You’re a fabulous kisser.” Why the simple contact, touching lips, made her hot, needy and mindless, she didn’t know. But she liked it.

  “So are you,” he murmured and ducked his head for another kiss.

  A fresh wave of heat crashed over her shoulders and crawled up the back of her neck.

  “I also think,” she said when he released her lips. “You should go sit down and let me serve you dinner.”

  “Are you on the menu?”

  Holy cow. He didn’t pull his punches.

  She liked that. A lot. Adored that he made her feel undeniably feminine and sassy, sexy and desirable. She even enjoyed the flush of wetness between her legs. If she weren’t already in love with the man, the fact that he could turn her mind off, shut down her rapid fire thoughts and concerns, well, that was reason enough to fall head over heels.

  “I made you blush.” He grinned, showing off perfect white teeth.

  She held her hands to her cheeks, savoring the coolness of her fingertips. He made a tsking sound and removed her hands. “Don’t hide from me, Gretchen.”

  His words were so soft, so tender, that what was left of her resolve melted away. But he stepped back and slowly withdrew his hands. She missed his touch immediately and was tempted to follow.

  “Let’s eat. But I can’t promise I’ll keep my hands to myself.” Holy smokes. Where had the handsome brooding man gone? And where had this dreamy seduction artist come from?

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  They’d just stepped out onto the back deck when her doorbell rang.

  “Go ahead and eat,” she told him and turned back into the house.

  Annie stood on Gretchen’s front stoop, her eyes wet with tears, a tissue pressed against her nose.

  Before Gretchen could respond, her sister started forward, words tumbling from her lips. “Men are pigs! Roommates too.” There was something in there about Harlan, Annie’s boyfriend, sleeping together and getting home and leaving, but Gretchen could only make sense of every fifth word.

  “Come on.” She put her arm around her sister’s shoulders and reached for the overnight bag in her hand.

  “Everything okay?” Greg’s voice carried down the hall.

  Annie’s gasp couldn’t have sounded any louder without the help of a megaphone.

  “I–You’re–” Annie’s gaze ping-ponged between Greg, who stood just inside the back door, and Gretchen. Her sister knew who Greg was and how Gretchen felt about him.

  But the lift of Annie’s perfectly plucked eyebrows said she thought Gretchen had been holding out on her.

  “I didn’t mean to interrupt,” she amended, quickly wiping her eyes.

  “You’re not interrupting, we were just sitting down to dinner.” Gretchen squeezed her sister’s shoulders. “Let me put your bag down, then we’ll go into the kitchen and fix you something. Have you had dinner?”

  By the look of her, she’d missed too many meals this semester.

  Annie shook her head.

  “We’ll be right out Greg,” Gretchen said as they walked down the hallway toward him. He nodded, his gaze lingering on Annie for another moment before he returned to the deck.

  When they were alone in the kitchen, Annie leaned back against the counter, tipped her head back and laughed. She was like Gretchen in that respect, even when injured, Gretchen usually laughed. Only when the ache went bone deep did she shed a tear. Which prove just how invested she’d become in the man in her backyard.

  “My timing sucks. I’m sorry, sis,” Annie started.

  Gretchen paused from fixing Annie’s dinner and turned, using the sour cream spoon to point with. “Before you say anything you should know that he’s here because he was in a bad car accident Friday. The driver died. JJ was out of town and we couldn’t reach his brothers or his dad.”

  Annie remained silent while Gretchen finished fixing her a plate.

  “That sucks. For him…and for you.”

  Gretchen wasn’t quite ready to tell her sister about the kisses. Annie still h
ad the rose colored glasses of youth…although, today maybe they’d shattered. She hated for her sister to experience pain, but it was unrealistic to think she’d go through life without getting hurt. Besides, pain built strength, right?

  “I just need a place to sleep tonight while my bitch of a roommate clears out of the house.”

  Gretchen nodded, wanting the full story but also not wanting to press. “I understand.”

  She felt Annie’s gaze while she pulled a can of Coke from the fridge. “Are you all right? Is his family back yet?”

  Gretchen nodded. “We’ll talk about it later. For now, let’s go have dinner with a handsome man and worry about everything else after dessert.”

  Annie sucked in a shuddering breath and nodded. “You’re the best sister.”

  Despite the eight year age gap and questionable parentage, Gretchen couldn’t help but think that they’d turned out all right.

  Greg glanced up at them as they stepped through the back door. He and Annie had met several years before at a Fairchild party.

  “Greg, you remember my sister Annie.”

  “I do. How are you, Annie?”

  “I’ve been better.” She dropped her purse onto the deck and collapsed into the chair across from Greg.

  “Sorry to hear that.”

  Annie shrugged. “It’s life.”

  “Annie’s going to bunk here tonight.”

  Greg put down his glass and started to speak and somehow Gretchen knew what he was going to say.

  “Before you say it–” She gave him an I’m-talking-to-you-mister look. “You’re staying put in the master. Your leg isn’t fully healed yet and Annie can have–”

  “I hope you’re not going to say the daybed, dear sister,” Annie inserted. She flashed Greg an impish grin before turning her attention to Gretchen. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but my bones are younger. I’ll be fine on the couch.”

  Gretchen’s jaw dropped and Greg laughed.

  “Your sister just called you old.”

  “I think she did too. Fine. Take the couch.”

  Annie’s smile wobbled and a fresh sheen of tears filled her eyes. She blinked them back and stared down at her plate. “Sorry,” she whispered.