Letters from Home (Love Beyond Reason #1)(21)

Lena had moved into the living room. “It’s so different.” She waved a hand at the room. “Yet it’s the same, too. You’ve only been here since June, right?”

He nodded slowly, detecting an edge to her questioning. A fishing trip? “That’s right. Last year, when my dad’s health started deteriorating, we both decided he should move over to the assisted living on Luther Street.”

“Wow, nice arrangements. Not cheap.”

“Yeah, well. One day at a time, right? Anyway, the house was empty until I finished my commitment and came home.”

Nerves wracked his stomach. Why was she here? What made her come to his house? They’d arranged for him to pick her up. But it was more than the nerves wreaking havoc on his body. He wanted her even more today than he had a week ago, more than he had as a randy teenager. “Can I get you something to drink?”

“Glass of wine?” She suggested, and his heart fell.

“Oh, actually, I—” He rubbed a hand over his mouth to cover his laugh. What an idiot. He should have wine and flowers and all the things women loved. “Uhm…Beer?”

“Sure.” She followed him to the kitchen. “You seem nervous.”

The beer from the fridge was cold, and he wanted to take the damn thing and roll it over his forehead. “Not nervous, just…you look beautiful, by the way. And tomorrow’s Christmas. You’ve got that thing in the morning.”

“I saw your friend today.” She changed the subject, throwing him for a loop.

“Friend?”

“Mark?” She took a pull from the beer he handed her. “I was dropping a pile of cards at the Post Office.”

“Oh.” Oh. Zack cleared his throat. “How’s he doing?”

“He’s fine, I guess. I never did get a chance to talk to him. He was busy, you know, working.”

The way she spoke was enough to break him, as if she knew. But she couldn’t… Mark wouldn’t have told her he’d been writing the letters. There had to be a Federal law against that or something.

“Anyway,” she went on with a smile. “It made me think of the letters again. Think about who had written them. Someone who knows me quite well. I was always surprised by the insight in those letters, the true depth of this man’s compassion for what I was going through. He seemed to know exactly what I needed.”

Zack circled the table and approached her. He was not going to give up his surprise so close to the end of the game. He didn’t care how silly it seemed now. She wasn’t going to force his hand.

Lena took a step back, but she came up short against the counter top. “Oops.”

Zack stopped and wrapped his hands around her small waist. He felt the soft flesh under his hands and ached. “Been a crazy week, hasn’t it?”

“Mmm,” she murmured, gazing into his eyes with an openness about to bring him to his knees. “Thank you, by the way.”

He frowned. “For what?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know yet.” Then she leaned in, pressing her lips softly to his. Her arms circled him, warming him with her embrace. He let her lead, and she took him down the road of no return, coaxing his mouth open with the wet glide of her tongue.

He drew her closer with trembling hands. Every perfect curve molded against him. His hands explored her rib cage, and he found the underside of her breasts with his thumbs. He softened his touch, caressing her as the kiss went deeper and deeper. The taste of her drove him on until he had to break free in order to breathe.

“Lena,” he whispered, tracing small kisses over her lips, her cheek, and down her neck. The need for her grew, every muscle tensed with the passion of her touch. He lifted her and set her on the counter at her back.

With the last thread of sanity, he held tightly to the edge of the counter and stepped back—taking the space he needed. He was already out of breath, already so far gone. He looked into her eyes and saw the same frantic desire mirrored there.

She placed her hands gently against his skin and ran cool, competent fingers over his forearms, the touch sending shivers through him.

“I never needed anyone like I need you,” he admitted.

“How did this happen?”

He laughed. “Is it so bad that we want each other?”

Slowly, she shook her head. “No. I never thought I had a chance with you, Zack. I—”

“What?”

“Did you write those letters?”

He shrugged, pulled the pins from her hair, and his breath caught in his throat as it spilled over his hands and covered her shoulders. He drove his hands through the thick, silky length. “I could tell you, but—”

“Then you’d have to kill me?”

He left more kisses from her ear to her shoulder. She didn’t object, merely tilted her head to one side to give him better access.

“Something like that.”

On her shoulder was a scar the size of a nickel. He placed his lips over it, remembering the call he’d gotten a month after she’d left. There had been an attack. She’d been struck by flying shrapnel. Even worse, she’d lost a patient, and the guilt of losing someone always cut deep.

His raging need for her eased, transforming into a profound depth of…hell, he didn’t even know what. She could have died. He thought back to what his father had said.