Life Rewritten Page 14

  “Yes, I do,” he answered cautiously.

  “The way my mom likes her boyfriends?”

  In for a penny, in for a pound. “Yes, Leo. I like her that way, too.”

  He lifted his head and eyed Sam warily. “Is she gonna move in here with us?”

  “No.” Did Heather’s boyfriends move in with them? “She has her own house.”

  His lip trembled again. “Mom’s going to be mad at me. She’s going to say I should have kept Rennie away from Delaney.”

  Sam’s anger surged again. “It’s not your job to take care of Rennie, Leo. That’s my job. I promise your mother won’t be mad at you.”

  He put his head down. “Are we going to stay with you after Mom gets out of the hospital?”

  “I don’t know, Leo. We’ll figure that out later.”

  Leo picked at a thread on the comforter. “Mom’s scary sometimes.”

  The boy’s voice was muffled, but Sam had no trouble hearing the guilt and anguish. No ten-year-old should have to admit that.

  “Your mom will be different when she gets out of the hospital.” You damn well better be, Heather, or I’m taking these kids away from you.

  “You think so?”

  Sam sat on the bed and pulled Leo into his arms. “I promise you’ll be safe, and so will Rennie. I’ll make sure of it.”

  The boy was stiff as a rod. “How can you do that if you’re up here?”

  “I’ll be in Miami with you.”

  “Is Delaney moving there, too?”

  “No.” There was a weight crushing his chest. “Delaney lives up here. Maybe she can visit, though.”

  “You said you liked her.”

  “I do, Leo. But you and Rennie are more important.” Was that true? Would he be able to walk away from her? “Yeah?”

  “Yes,” he said firmly. “You and Rennie are more important than anything.” They had to be, right now. But maybe once he got them enrolled in the school, he could focus on Delaney.

  Leo sighed and relaxed as the house creaked and the wind blew through the trees outside. After a long time, he slid off the bed and wiped the back of his hand across his face. “Can I watch TV? The Simpsons are gonna be on in a few minutes.”

  “Sure.” Sam stood up. “I love The Simpsons,” he said lightly. “I’ll watch it with you tomorrow. Right now, I’m going back to Delaney’s to get Rennie. Lock the door behind me, okay?”

  “Duh.” Leo rolled his eyes.

  Ten minutes later, Sam peered in the front door of Delaney’s house. She was still on the couch, Rennie in her lap, blonde head resting against the red one. He wanted to scoop both of them into his arms.

  When he eased the door open, Delaney sat up. “Sam.”

  One word. Amazing how just the sound of his name could get his pulse racing and his heart pounding. He brushed his fingers over her cheek, then lifted Rennie off her lap and settled the sleeping child on the couch. He tucked an afghan over her, then led Delaney into the kitchen.

  “How are you doing?” he asked.

  She smiled, but her mouth trembled a little. “Rennie said she doesn’t hate me.”

  “Leo doesn’t, either. He was just shocked.”

  “Of course he was.” She looked out the window. “I caused so much pain.”

  “Delaney…” he began, but she interrupted.

  “How is he?”

  “He’s upset. He told me Heather scared him.” Anger flared.

  Delaney took his hand in hers and pried open the fist he hadn’t realized he’d made. “What did you tell him?”

  “I said I had no idea what was going to happen, but I said I’d keep him safe. And I will.”

  “I know you will,” she whispered. She wound her arms around his neck. “You’re very good at keeping your promises.”

  No, he wasn’t. He’d failed Diesel when his brother had needed him most. “I have no idea what to do.”

  “You’ll figure it out.” She nuzzled his neck. “You’re good at that, too.”

  The scent of fresh cut wood and Delaney’s hair swirled around him. Her breath ruffled the hair on his neck, and her hands played with his hair. Her body was stretched against his, her breasts pressing into his chest, thighs against thighs. He forgot all about Leo and Rennie. “There are other things I’m good at,” he murmured as he tightened his hold on her.

  She moved her head away from his neck. Her incredible eyes were languorous. Heavy-lidded with desire. “I’ll bet there are.” She unwound her arms from him and eased back. “I’ll be thinking about them.”

  “God, Delaney.” He wanted to snatch her back. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Give it some thought,” she said as she headed toward the living room. “Right now, let’s get Rennie into my truck so I can drive you home.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  WEAK EARLY MORNING sunshine poured into her kitchen window as Delaney leaned against the counter in her pajamas and waited for her coffee to brew. She’d barely managed to brush her teeth before stumbling to the coffeemaker. Her mind was foggy and her body was restless and edgy.

  She’d lain away for hours, wondering if she’d done the right thing by telling the kids. Leo had been so upset. I hate you, bitch.She understood his reaction. But how much worse would it have been if she hadn’t told them? How much worse if he found out later that she was Chantal? She couldn’t let him be blindsided like that.

  She’d done the right thing. But it had been hard.

  Leo wasn’t the only thing she’d thought about last night.

  Remembering what else she’d done, she closed her eyes. When Sam had returned for Rennie, he’d woken her up. Caught her off guard, and she’d been honest with him. Implied that she wanted to sleep with him.

  Heck, there had been no implying. She’d told him flat out.

  Was it smart? No.

  But he’d reminded her that he and the kids would be leaving soon. He’d go back to Florida, and she wouldn’t see him again.

  So she’d thrown caution to the winds.

  It was time to take a chance. Time to reach out to someone.

  To Sam.

  Last night, she’d imagined him in the bed with her. Kissing her. Touching her.

  Groaning with frustration, she poured the first cup of coffee and opened her laptop to find out what had happened in the world overnight. It was easier than wondering what was happening in the house on the other side of the woods.

  As she read about a presidential summit, she heard car tires crunching on the gravel driveway. When she looked out the window, Sam was halfway to her front door. All her yearning from the night before came rushing back. Her heart pounded as she raced into her bedroom to dress.

  Before she could get the pajama top over her head, he was knocking at the door. Struggling back into it, she threw on her robe and ran to let him in.

  “Sam.” She was ridiculously out of breath for someone who’d run only a few yards. “What are you doing here so early?”

  He shut the door, closing out the world. “The kids are in school. And you expected me.”

  Yes.

  He moved closer. “I wondered all night—did you think about it, Delaney?”

  “About what?” Her body quivered, and she took a step toward him. She knew exactly what he was asking her.

  “About what I might be good at.” He kept his gaze on her. “Besides keeping promises.”

  She gripped the tie on her robe, not sure if she was going to pull it tighter or tug it open. “I had a few thoughts. How about you?”

  “I came up with a couple ideas. Maybe we should compare notes.”

  His eyes were dark silver, lit by an inner flame. His jaw was tight. His whole body hummed with tension, mirroring her own.

  Her fingers fumbled as she tugged at the knotted belt on her robe. “Mine didn’t involve my pajamas and bathrobe.”

  “God, I hope not.” He gripped her upper arms and pulled her close. She wondered if he could feel her trembling.
“Are you going to let me see what’s under that robe?”

  “You’re going to be disappointed.” Why hadn’t she worn something sexy? Or nothing at all. She’d known he wouldn’t be able to resist her challenge.

  “I doubt that.” He turned her around so her back was against the door. The tile on the floor was cold on her bare feet, but she barely noticed as he pulled the belt off. Her robe fell open, and she struggled not to wrap it around herself again. The first man she’d wanted in years, and she was wearing flannel pajamas.

  “Ducks, Delaney?” He smiled, but his hand wasn’t quite steady as he traced one of the cartoon animals above her heart. “Sexy, wild Chantal wears flannel pajamas with ducks? I think I’m in love.”

  Her breath caught in her throat at the l word. He was teasing. It didn’t mean anything. But she closed her eyes and wanted it to be true.

  His hand drifted lower, and she looked at his long fingers on the light blue fabric. He had big hands, but they moved over her gently, as if she was fragile. Breakable. “I didn’t mean for you to see them. I didn’t want to spoil your fantasies.”

  “Fantasies?” His fingers tightened on her hips. “Not a problem. Trust me, honey. In my fantasies, you’re not wearing anything.”

  His hands gentled, then cupped her rear end as he brushed his mouth over hers. Lightly, as if they had all day. When he lifted his head, she made a little noise in the back of her throat and leaned into him. “Kiss me, Sam. Please.”

  He groaned and threaded his fingers through her hair, holding her in place. His kiss was that of a man pushed to the limits. Tasting. Sucking. Demanding a response.

  She opened her mouth, needing more. When his tongue caressed hers, she curled one leg around his and tried to get closer. The flannel of her pajamas, the cotton of his sweater, the denim of his jeans were all too thick. She wanted her skin against his, wanted to feel the heat and the hardness and the need.

  One of his hands cupped her breast, and she arched into him. When he touched her nipple, she shuddered. “More,” she whispered.

  His fingers were clumsy as he undid her shirt. The last button skidded across the floor as he pulled it open. He swirled his tongue around one nipple, then took it into his mouth and suckled.

  Her heart thudded in her chest, pounding so hard she knew he could feel it. Feel how much she wanted him. Desire rose like a tide, sweeping away everything else besides Sam. His scent, so familiar now, surrounded her. His body, which she’d longed to touch, was hers for the taking.

  While he tasted her, she tried to pull off his shirt. But his jacket was in the way. Frustrated, she yanked the soft cotton out of his jeans and tunneled her hands beneath it. His chest was lean and hard, all ridges and planes. There was no softness to him, nothing easy. But as she explored him, he quivered.

  Moving lower, she danced her fingers over the hard length of his erection, then cupped him in her palm. When his mouth stilled on her breast and he jerked against her, she reached for the button at the waist of his jeans.

  She tugged on the zipper and freed him. But as her fingers curled around him, he captured her hands and put her arms around his neck.

  “No.” He bit gently on her lip, then soothed it with his tongue. “Not this time. If you play, I’ll embarrass myself.”

  He shoved the robe and pajama top to the floor. His eyes darkened even more as he looked at her, touched her. “You’re beautiful. And I want you so badly, I’m shaking.” He moved his hand to her belly.

  “I want you, too, Sam.” She stepped away from him and took his hand, leading him into her bedroom. She hadn’t made the bed yet, her clothes from the night before were thrown over a chair, but she didn’t care. Nothing mattered but Sam.

  She pushed the jacket from his shoulders, and he yanked the T-shirt over his head. A sprinkling of dark hair dusted his chest and arrowed down his belly. Leaning in, she licked one of his flat nipples. It hardened beneath her tongue.

  As she reached for his jeans, he tugged them off, leaving only midnight-blue boxers. But when she wanted to pull them down, he took her hands and eased her down onto the bed. “Not yet. You first.”

  He slid the pajamas down her legs, kissing the insides of her thighs, her knees, her calves. When he finally tossed the pj’s onto the floor, she tried to pull him on top of her.

  “I don’t think so,” he said. Stretched out next to her, he tangled his fingers in the dark blonde hair at the juncture of her thighs. She arched into his palm. “I’ve thought about this for too long. It’s not going to be over that quickly.”

  He started at her feet and kissed his way up her legs, lingering at the crease of her thigh. Mindless with need, she squirmed against him, and she felt him smile. “Tell me what you want, Delaney,” he murmured.

  “You, Sam. I want you. Around me. Inside me. Part of me.”

  She tried to tug him up to her, but he resisted, pressing his mouth between her legs. She heard herself cry out as he licked and tasted. When he sucked gently, her climax exploded through her.

  He held her hips as tremors shook her, one after another. Finally, he let her go, shucked his boxers and leaned over to grab a packet out of his jeans.

  “Let me.” She tried to take it from him.

  “Not this time.” He kissed her as he slid the condom on, then pushed into her. “Delaney,” he whispered as he began to move.

  She wrapped her legs around him, loving the weight of him, his sweat-slicked skin, the hardness of his muscles.

  The scent of their lovemaking surrounded them, and she drank it in. He intoxicated her. His face was buried in her neck, and she found his mouth and kissed him as the tension built again.

  Her climax rushed through her, and she sobbed his name as she came. He followed her there, shuddering above her. Finally the tremors slowed, then stopped. After a few moments, Sam eased to the side and gathered her close. Arms and legs tangled together, they let their breathing return to normal. But he didn’t let go of her.

  And she didn’t let go of him.

  SOMEONE WAS STROKING HER back.

  Slow caresses, neck to hip, then back again. She stirred, cuddling closer, and arms tightened around her. Sam.She opened her eyes to see him smiling down at her. “Welcome back.”

  Stretching, she let her nipples brush his chest. Saw his eyes darken. Felt his erection move against her belly.

  Desire rushed through her again, as if they hadn’t just made love. “There was talk of next time,” she murmured, pressing her mouth to his skin.

  “And I always keep my promises,” he answered, biting lightly on her earlobe.

  “I’m counting on it.”

  He trailed his mouth over her cheek and nibbled at her lips. She let her mouth linger on his for a long moment, then she moved down to his chest. Then lower.

  His hands tightened on her arms. “Delaney.”

  “Hmm?” She touched her tongue to him, smiled when he sucked in a breath. “It’s my turn to play.”

  Hours later, she was sprawled, boneless, on top of him. Her head on his chest, she listened to the rhythmic thumping of his heart. Steady. Sure. Strong.

  Sunlight poured in her window, splashing warmth on the bed. She barely noticed. Sam warmed her completely, from the inside out.

  His hands tightened on her, then he opened his eyes and lifted his head. “You have to make some furniture, don’t you?”

  Back to the real world. “Yes.” At dinner the night before, she’d mentioned she was falling behind on her orders. “And you have to write a book.”

  “I’m afraid so.” He sat up and pulled her against his side. “Can we have dinner again with the kids tonight?”

  Back to the real world with a vengeance. She eased away. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea. Leo isn’t going to want to see me.”

  Sam leaned his head against the spindles. “Yeah, I know. I just want to spend time with you.”

  She did, too, because they didn’t have a lot of time. Sam would be gone soon. He’
d gotten what he came for, and the kids belonged in Miami. With their mother.

  They had days. A week or two at the most.

  She didn’t want to waste a minute.

  He trailed his hand up and down her arm, absently caressing her. “I love your arms,” he murmured. “So strong. Sleek. Sexy.” He bent to kiss her biceps, then paused. His breath made her skin prickle.

  “I can see a faint image on your arm.” He traced the swirling drum set with one finger. “Like a ghost.”

  “They can’t remove tattoos completely.” Sam was the only one who’d gotten close enough to see the ghosts.

  He pressed his mouth to the inside of her elbow, and she shivered. “I don’t want to leave,” he said.

  She didn’t want him to leave, either. She nuzzled his chest, then slid out of bed before she could kiss him again. Once her mouth touched his, neither of them would get any work done. “There’s always tomorrow. And the next day. I’m up early in the morning,” she said as she headed for the shower. “You are, too.”

  He’d followed her, and he nipped her shoulder. “Is that an invitation?”

  She reached behind and squeezed him as she stepped into the hot water. “Damn right it is.”

  ON THURSDAY MORNING, Sam waved goodbye to Leo and Rennie, watched until they entered the school, then headed for Delaney’s house. His heart was drumming in his chest before he spotted the entrance to her driveway. By the time he stopped the Jeep and got out, he was uncomfortably aroused. Delaney had the front door open as soon as he reached the porch, and when he saw her in the dark blue bathrobe, he could barely walk.

  He couldn’t wait to get to her house in the morning. This was the third day she’d met him at the door, in her robe. Yesterday, instead of her flannel pajamas, she’d worn nothing beneath it.She drew him inside now and he kicked the door shut, enveloping her in his arms, desperate to taste her. She molded herself to him, hooking one leg behind his, as if she wanted to crawl inside of him.

  Voices came from the kitchen. A radio, maybe. Ignoring it, he tried to tug her robe open. “I have to know.”

  She pulled the robe tighter with a wicked smile on her face. “What’s it worth to you?”