The Dollmaker(The Forgotten Files #2)(91)

He opened his refrigerator and pulled out a beer, twisting the top and taking a long pull. The doorbell rang. He set the beer aside and put his hand on his weapon, moving toward the door. A glance through the peephole. Tessa.

He closed his eyes, relieved and worried all at once. He snapped open the door. “What are you doing here?”

She held up a bag filled with Chinese food. “I brought food, which I’ll trade only if you tell me how it went today at Shield.” Smiling, she pushed past him and walked straight toward the kitchen, where she unpacked the cartons. “I want to know all about it.”

“It’s been a long day, Tessa. I’m not in the mood to talk.”

“Déjà vu. I’m not buying it,” she said, laughing.

His response had been the theme of their marriage. Her begging him to talk, him too spent to talk. Now she wasn’t begging. “Yeah.”

“Tell me about Shield, we’ll eat, and when we’re finished, I’ll clean up and leave. You were never good at eating when you were working.” She set her bag on the counter and slid off her jacket.

“You put protein bars in my jacket pocket. They tasted like cardboard.”

She unpacked the small white boxes along with a couple of sodas. “But it kept you going. Just like letting off a little steam and talking will do the same.”

He unfastened his cuffs and rolled up his sleeves. “Yeah.”

She unpacked plastic forks and handed him one. “The beef is still your favorite, right?”

He accepted the carton. “Yes.”

She unwrapped a fork. “Eat up.”

She settled on a bar stool and dug her fork into a bucket of vegetables. For a moment, he didn’t know what to say, so he ate.

Finally he said, “I just received a letter from Roger’s attorney. Roger left me his lake house.”

She jabbed her fork in the half-eaten dish and left it there. “Wow. That’s got to feel weird.”

“I don’t want the house.”

“Then sell it. Donate the money, if it makes you feel better. Set up a scholarship in Kara’s name. But before you do any of that, remember that you were all Roger had left, and he wanted you to have what was his.”

“Roger and I didn’t get along.”

“When it came to the big issues, you were more alike than different. When’s the last time you saw the house?” She rose and moved toward him, taking his white carton and setting it aside.

“Twelve years ago,” he said.

When he didn’t say more, she asked, “Are you at least going to see the house again? There could be items inside you want to keep.”

He looked at her, his gaze heavy with loss. “I don’t know.”

“I can go with you.”

“Why?”

“Moral support. I’m not working tomorrow.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“There’s a lot I don’t have to do. But I do it anyway.”

He rose up from the bar stool. She set her food aside and turned toward him. He laid his hands on her hips, pausing, waiting for her to move away. She held her ground.

“You can kiss me,” she said. “I won’t bite too much.”

His frown deepening, he traced her collarbone with his thumb. “I do.”

She laughed. “Just you try. I’m faster on my feet than you.” She cupped his face with her hand, and the sensation was a cutting blend of pleasure and pain. She leaned in and kissed him on the lips.

He stood stock-still. “I assumed our last hookup was about pent-up emotions and hormones. What’s this time about?”

“I want you. That’s never changed.”

“Why do you want me?”

“I love you.”

He tilted his head, his eyes level on her. “Love wasn’t enough the first time. And I’ll never be easy.”

“You’re starting to sound like a broken record.” She took his hand in hers. “I’m a little older and wiser now. I see your methods might not be easy, but your heart is in the right place.” She kissed him again, and this time he placed his hands around her waist.

She closed her eyes and allowed him to taste her lips, to explore her mouth, to savor her. When he drew back, she moistened her lips and reached for the buttons of his shirt.

“This time it doesn’t have to be so frantic,” she said. “I want to enjoy this.”

Nothing was fixed between them. The issues ran too deep. And knowing that didn’t stop him from reaching for the tail of her shirt and pulling it over her head. He cupped her lace-covered breasts and kissed her again. He slowly undressed her.

They made it to the bedroom, but barely. By the time she dropped back onto his bed, he was pulling off his shirt and all but ripping his undershirt off. Shoes, socks, pants went in seconds. When she scooted up on the pillows, he was seconds behind her. And when she parted her legs, he drove into her, hoping this was slow enough for her.

She wrapped a leg around his waist and pushed her pelvis up, matching his downward thrusts. Her hands gripped his shoulders as she kissed him.

When he growled out his release, she quickly followed, and he collapsed on top of her, their sweat mingling between their naked bodies. He stroked her hair back from her face, staring, afraid to voice his feelings.