A Winter Wedding(89)

Eve’s smile grew even warmer. “Anytime.”

“I really like Eve,” Lourdes said as she and Kyle walked down the street. “Actually, I like all your friends.”

Kyle grunted.

“You’re so grumpy tonight.”

“Grumpy?” he repeated.

“Yes. What’s wrong with you?”

He stopped and gazed down at her for so long she thought he might kiss her. Then he shook his head, took her hand and continued walking.

“Are you going to explain yourself?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“What doesn’t matter?”

He stopped again, only this time he whirled on her as though he was angry. Instinctively, she backed up a step, but he just moved toward her, coming so close she could smell his aftershave. “What I’m feeling doesn’t matter.”

“Of course it does!”

“Fine. You want to hear it? I’m pissed at Noelle for setting the damn fire. I’m pissed at the fire inspector for suggesting it might be me. But mostly I’m pissed at myself, because I can’t get you off my mind. My plant’s been nearly destroyed, and yet I’ve spent most of my day trying to stay focused instead of thinking about the way you felt last night. I can almost taste you as if it just happened. Even worse, I didn’t get enough, didn’t take you the way I really wanted to.”

They were at Victorian Days; this was the last thing she’d expected Kyle to say. She glanced around. Fortunately, no one seemed to realize they’d left the B and B. She could hear a teenage girl telling her mother that she’d gotten a picture with Lourdes Bennett. But with everyone bundled up for the cold and moving in clumps, no one appeared to notice that she was now standing in their midst. “How do you want me?” she asked, throat dry, heart pounding.

There was a challenging glint in his eyes as he stepped closer. “Where I can watch as I make you tremble. See the look on your face when—”

That was as far as he got before she grabbed him by the shirtfront and pulled him behind the closest building. “Then what are you waiting for?” she asked and dragged his mouth to hers.





24

Kyle had expected what he’d said to intimidate Lourdes. She’d just come out of a painful breakup, should’ve run for cover when confronted with such a frank admission. That was what he’d been aiming for. He needed a way to win the war he was fighting against himself, and he’d thought if he revealed he wanted sex with meaning, she’d retreat to protect herself from anything too intense.

But she didn’t. Instead of rebuffing him, she’d tugged him into the dark alley behind Callie’s photography studio. And now she had his shirt up, her mouth on his chest and her hands a bit lower, in much more sensitive territory, although he still had his pants on. He should take her home, he told himself. If they were going to make love again, they shouldn’t do it here. She deserved better. But the longer he put off stopping, the harder it became to even consider it.

So much could happen on the drive home; for instance, sanity could return. And he definitely didn’t want that. Not yet.

“Lourdes, someone could see us.” He did feel obligated to warn her. Obviously, she wasn’t thinking straight, either. She had a lot more to lose than he did if compromising pictures appeared on the internet. But who would be in the alley? The celebration was in the center of town. And the same desperation he felt seemed to hold her in its same grip.

Although it was too dark to see clearly, he was fairly sure she smiled up at him as she unbuttoned his pants. Then she knelt down and put her mouth on him, and the intense pleasure that brought destroyed the rest of his common sense. His knees nearly buckled, and he had to lean against the building for support. But before he could lose control, he brought her to her feet. He didn’t want to come that way; he wanted to be inside her when they were face-to-face. So he made quick work of helping her remove the thick black tights she wore beneath her skirt, and then he found the condom in his wallet.

As he lifted her up against the building, he could hear his fellow townspeople singing carols around the big Christmas tree in the park a block over, but he didn’t care. He had to have her now, right in the middle of Victorian Days, because nothing else in the world seemed to matter.

Maybe it had to be like this with her, he decided. Otherwise they’d overthink it, second-guess what they were doing. When it was over, Kyle was breathing too hard to speak, but he wasn’t willing to release her too soon. He continued to hold her up against that building, feeling his heart pound as he buried his face in her neck and struggled to catch his breath.

She didn’t seem any more eager to separate. She kept her hands in his hair and her head resting against his as if these few seconds were as important as everything that had happened before.

When he finally set her on the ground and they hurried to dress and straighten their clothes, he also tried to help fix her hair. The way it fell about her face made her look thoroughly ravished and he didn’t want that to give them away.

He was afraid she might say something, might want to “talk.” But he wasn’t interested in trying to figure out what the hell was going on. What was the point? It wouldn’t change the facts. He didn’t put her anywhere near the “you’ve really f*cked up your life now” class of mistakes that Noelle fell into, but he knew he was asking for more disappointment and pain. When it came to Lourdes, he just couldn’t seem to stop himself.