Well Played (Well Met #2)(59)

“I don’t loom.”

“You’re ten feet tall, of course you loom. Not to mention you’re soaking wet.” So was I. And with the air conditioner running I was also freezing. I suppressed a shiver.

“Oh.” He looked down at himself, plucking his wet shirt away from his chest with a sigh. “Well, there is that.”

I ducked into the bathroom for towels and to check on Benedick, who glared at me from behind the toilet. When I caught sight of myself in the mirror, I tried not to scream. I’d worked so hard on my hair, and now the carefully pinned-up curls listed to the side like a drunken wedding cake, flowers poking out haphazardly. And the less said about my supposedly waterproof mascara, the better. When I came back out, Daniel was back to leaning on the front door, his expression unsure.

“I should probably . . .” He jerked a thumb over his shoulder, toward the downpour outside, and my heart fell into my stomach. It was only his uncertain expression that kept me from despairing completely. He didn’t want to go. He was just giving me an excuse to kick him out if I didn’t want him there.

I didn’t take it. “Don’t be silly.” I handed him a towel as thunder rumbled outside. “You can’t go back out in that. It should let up soon. Stay.”





Seventeen




The word hung in the air between us, and I was afraid to breathe, to make any sound that would erase it. Daniel reached for the towel but I didn’t let go, so when he tugged on it, he pulled me closer to him. He ran a thumb under my makeup-smudged eyes before stroking my hair. “You’re wet.” His voice had dropped an octave, and a shiver ran through me that had nothing to do with the cold.

I wanted to snicker. I’d been hanging out with Mitch for too long, because my first instinct was to respond with a dirty joke. But Daniel had let go of the towel to take my face between his hands, and I remembered he’d been about to kiss me at the wedding reception before the rain interrupted us.

There was nothing to interrupt us now. His kiss was a greeting, an affirmation, a confirmation that he was meant to be here at this very moment. No perfectly-broken-in pair of jeans had felt as comfortable, as right, as his mouth felt on mine.

But comfortable didn’t last long. The heat in his kiss chased away the chill of being caught in the rain. I let my mouth open under his as he began to press, to explore, and before I knew what was happening he had turned us, so now my back was against the door and he pressed against me, crowding into me, and I didn’t mind it a bit. I let the towel fall to the floor as I reached for him. The skin of his neck was cold against my palms but warmed up fast, and the wet hair at the base of his skull slicked between my fingers.

“Stacey.” My name was a whisper, a prayer on his lips. His fingertips traced a tingling trail down the side of my throat. He pulled back to catch my gaze with his, and whatever he read in my eyes must have been encouraging since he bent to me again, catching my mouth in a quick, searching kiss as if he couldn’t bear to be away. Then his mouth dropped to my neck, nuzzling just under my jaw, and my blood raced in response.

I stretched onto my toes to get closer to him, and he stooped a little, his hands cupping my hips. We were dealing with a definite height difference here, but I could work with that. I’d climb him if I had to. I just needed to be closer to him. From the way Daniel’s touch had turned from caressing to grasping, he was feeling the same way. He leaned into me, pressing me against the door, almost lifting me against it, and I could feel myself melt against the hard lines of his body.

And then my landline rang, and it was like being doused with a bucket of ice water. I groaned and let my head fall back, thudding onto the door behind me. “Mom.”

“If you’re thinking about your mom right now, I’m doing this wrong.” But he smiled against my neck and slowly, slowly released his grip on me. The loss was devastating, but my phone was still ringing.

“On the phone.” I lightly pushed at his chest with my fingertip and he stepped back. I got to the phone on its fourth ring, thank God. I didn’t have an answering machine hooked up and Mom was tenacious; she’d just let it keep ringing till I answered. Or worse: she’d give up and come looking for me.

“Hey, Mom.” I blew out a breath and tried to slow my racing heart. I sounded pretty calm for someone who was just making out fifteen seconds ago.

“Oh, hi, honey.” There was Mom’s usual mild surprise that it was my voice on the other end of the line. “How was the wedding?”

I had to laugh at that. “The wedding was great, Mom. You were there.” But even as I laughed, alarm bells went off in the back of my mind. None of her health issues had ever been neurological. Could this be a new thing?

Mom scoffed. “Well, of course I was. Emily was a beautiful bride. I hope Simon appreciates her.”

“Oh, I’m pretty sure he does.” The alarm bells faded a little, replaced by impatience. The last thing I wanted to do right now was rehash Emily’s wedding. I loved her, and I loved my mother, but there was a much bigger priority in the room right now. A priority that was well over six feet tall and was the best kisser I’d ever experienced. So why were we having this conversation? Why now?

“I meant how was the wedding for you? We left early. Did it start raining before it was over?”

“It did! I’m glad you got home before it started. It came on kind of sudden.”