Delinquent Daddy (Banks / Kincaid Family #2)(37)

But for a second time, he rebuffed her and jerked the book away before she could get it. "Damn it, Ellie," he snapped and lifted his face to send her an irritated scowl.

Her mouth fell open; she could only gape at him in agonized surprise.

His annoyance fell flat when he caught her gaze. He gritted his teeth as if supremely conflicted. Then he sighed and closed his eyes, letting his head fall back to bump against the headboard.

"Look, I just want to be alone and study this for a while, okay." His tone was mildly apologetic. Though the word 140

Delinquent Daddy

by Linda Kage

"sorry" didn't cross his lips, he opened his eyes and said it with his expression.

Ellie had no idea what was wrong, but she was vividly aware of the fact that this was the first time she hadn't been able to pull him from a mood. It shocked and scared her and made her think she'd done something wrong, something to upset him. Not wanting to look clingy and beg him to talk to her, she nodded wordlessly and scooted off the bed.

"I'm sorry I bothered you," she murmured and hurried from the room. She ran all the way back through the lazy rain to her dorm room, where she shut herself inside and wept the rest of the afternoon.

Boston appeared the next day. Once again, dismal weather filled the campus with a slow, miserable warm rain. Ellie had dried up from her tear fest and was doing homework when the soft knock came. After scooting off her bed, she went to the door and checked the peephole. Her heart about thumped out of her chest when she saw Boston standing there, his hair glistening with raindrops.

Pulse racing, she flipped the deadbolt and flung the door open. He lifted his face, and they both froze, taking a good ten seconds to just stand there, soaking in the sight of each other.

Finally, Boston asked, "Want to go for a walk?"

Neither seemed to care how wet it was outside. Ellie merely bobbed her head and answered, "Let me put on some shoes."

He stayed in the hall and watched her through the open doorway as she plopped onto the floor and jerked on a pair of 141

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sneakers. The fact that he didn't come inside told her things still weren't kosher. But Ellie didn't care. He was here. He was attempting a reconnection.

She assumed he'd tell her what was wrong, what she'd done that had upset him. She'd been wracking her brain for twenty-four hours, trying to think up something she might've said to displease him. But she couldn't think of anything. All she knew was that she loved him, and thinking he was upset with her hurt her to no end.

Ellie was surprised when he remained strangely mute as they started their walk. He didn't seem to want to talk. He only wanted to walk.

So, they walked.

It was ten minutes into their stroll before he even took her hand. Still no words were spoken; he merely slipped his damp fingers through hers and held on. Ellie closed her eyes briefly and tightened her grip in quiet support. Another ten minutes passed. He led them to a deserted memorial park and into a thick copse of trees off the beaten path.

When he slowed to a stop, Ellie looked up. He turned to her slowly and blinked as if surprised to see her.

"You're all wet," he murmured, realizing it for the first time. He lifted his hand and wiped a stream of rain off her cheek.

Her heart warmed. "So are you," she told him and brought her hand up to mimic his actions.

He closed his eyes and moved his face against her fingers, delighting in her touch. Lightly catching her wrist, he held her 142

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hand still as he pressed his mouth against her palm and kissed her, licking the rain off the inside of her fingertips.

Ellie's loins tightened and her spirits lifted. "Boston," she whispered.

He inhaled loudly, smelling her scent. When he opened his eyes and looked at her, she felt the zap in every pore of her being.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, looking regretful like he'd never looked before. "God, I am so sorry."

Then he reached for her face. She eagerly reached back.

They made love right there, in the slow rain with no protection. No umbrella. No condom. Boston had been inside her without a condom before, but he'd always pulled out at the last moment.

This time, he didn't. He didn't even seem to realize he had nothing on to prevent a pregnancy. And Ellie was too glad he wasn't upset anymore to remind him otherwise. She didn't want him to stop. So, she held him close and continued to participate in the most erotic, prolonged event of her life.

He said sorry a few more times; she assumed he was apologizing for his mood the day before. It took her a week to learn there was so much more he'd been trying to beg forgiveness for. Yes, she found out exactly why he'd withdrawn from her the Saturday before. And it had nothing to do with her own failings.

She entered her American history class at nine the next Monday morning and was startled to hear a couple of girls mention Boston's name. They didn't just say Boston, either.

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They said Boston Kincaid. There was no way they were talking about someone else.

A chesty, lithe redhead by the name of Heather Grimaldi described him to a tee and went on to enlighten her friends how she'd picked him up at a party the week before. Then she bragged about how she'd gotten him to go back to her room with her. She hadn't been able to go into much more detail before she sighed with delight and slumped down in her chair, smiling dreamily at her companions.