What We Find (Sullivan's Crossing, #1)(59)

“At least?” she said, already a little breathless.

“Come with me, Maggie. You’re way overdressed.”

“So, after all that you’re just going to play with my feelings again?” she teased.

“I won’t be playing...” He kissed her again and grabbed her ass, giving her a hard squeeze. “Come on, angel. Let’s get comfortable.”

Comfort was the least of his intentions. He stripped her and played her body as if it were a Stradivarius and he knew every note perfectly. He wanted to give her everything within him. It all came so naturally with her. He’d been aware of every nuance since that very first night they were together, and making love to Maggie allowed him to pull all his deepest feelings together. Sex with Maggie was more than just sex; it was intensely personal. All he had to do was think about getting into her body and his chest expanded a little; his wounded heart seemed to grow stronger.

What she gave back to him fulfilled him. Her natural abandon, her complete trust reminded him that this was like a smooth pathway to his most private emotions. Lovemaking wasn’t always like that. Sometimes it was all physical—just a need satisfied. Not complicated at all. Sometimes sex was emotional—a blending of spirits to strengthen each other. And then there were times like this when the give-and-take of bodies in the act of loving made one’s very soul feel sturdier. More sure. More stable. Sometimes making love relieved a deep tension. It could be exciting, stimulating and electrifying. And then there were times it felt like the one person you were destined to find came into your life and all the jagged edges you struggled with had smoothed out, calmed down, quieted.

He knew what it was. It was at once a great comfort and dangerous. When a man gives all of himself to a woman who gives everything she has, the bond is so powerful it can be the ultimate fulfillment. And if lost, the ultimate destruction.

Their love play left them panting, wrapped around each other, holding on for dear life. They whispered to each other. Praise, mostly. Compliments and simple adoration. Then he loved her again. He was falling in love with her. It was a terrifying concept.

*



Cal rose early, leaving Maggie to sleep. She was naked, twisted in the sheets, looking like she’d never had a deeper, more comforting rest. He’d worn her out, his objective.

After his shower he walked over to the store and of course Sully was there, getting started on his day. There was no denying the man looked a little better each day—his cheeks slightly pink, his hands steady, eyes alert and sparkling.

“Morning,” Cal said. “Good night?”

“Mine was. And I heard yours was, too.”

“You’re full of it, Sully,” he said, gambling on a lie. “There wasn’t anything to hear.”

“Well, I’m old. I gotta have my fun where I can.”

“Aren’t you afraid you’ll go to hell for lying?” Cal asked.

“For lying?” Sully roared with laughter. “Son, I’m going to hell for way worse than that. Trust me.”

“I’m taking a morning off, Sully. If there’s anything important you need me to do either tell me right now or save it for this afternoon.”

“Nothing I can’t manage. Errands?”

“Yep. I’ll be done by noon.”

“Jeez, son, take the day if need be. I’m not exactly an invalid, you know.”

“Not even slightly. I’ll check in a little later.”

Cal walked around the end of the lake, five miles, and it took over an hour. There was a perfectly serviceable road and he could’ve driven but the morning was clear and cool and he thought the walk might be a good idea. The cabins on the other side had a bay of small watercraft—five or six Sun Dolphin boats with small motors. These could be rented for fishing or just touring the lake, getting some sun, having a date.

Cal rented one and motored over to Sully’s dock, tied up his boat and went looking for Maggie. He caught her just coming out of the house, on her way to the store. “Well, sleepyhead. I wondered when you’d roll out,” he said.

“You are the best sleeping pill...”

“We all have our gifts.” He reached for her hand. “Grab a hat and come out on the lake with me for a couple of hours. I rented us a boat.”

“This should be interesting. Let me go tell Sully where I’ll be.”

Ten minutes later they were under way in the little boat, putt-putting across the narrow part of the lake to the turn where it opened up into a big, round body of water. Sully’s and some of the other camps were built around the north end because the boats had more play on the wider expanse of the lake, making the campgrounds’ swimming areas safer.

“Where are you taking me?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” he said. “Just somewhere quiet where we can talk. Maybe right over there,” he said, pointing to an area of the lake that seemed out of the way. He let the small engine idle and then stop, leaving them floating quietly. He faced her. “I think I should explain a few things.”

“Are we out on the lake so I won’t panic and run?”

He chuckled. “Nah. I’m not wanted or anything. Yet, anyway. I’m an attorney,” he said. “My wife was an attorney. We had very different practices—she was part owner of a nonprofit legal clinic that operated mostly on grants and donations. I was part of a large firm. We met in law school—University of Michigan. We married as soon as I graduated. I was only twenty-seven, in a brand-new job, studying for the bar. Her name was Lynne Aimee Baxter and she was an amazing woman. She got sick before she was thirty but for a while we considered it a nuisance. We researched it, got a lot of medical opinions, but we got on with our lives. We had a few years before things got worse. You know about the disease...”