A Wedding in Apple Grove (14 page)

He laid his cheek on the top of her head. “I'm getting that, Meg.”

His lips met hers as he backed her toward the stove, deepening the kiss, reaching behind her, and shutting off the burner. “I have this great idea.” He slipped his hands beneath her backside and lifted her up. “Wrap your legs around me.” When she did, he walked toward the sink and set her down next to it. “Open wide, Meg.”

She opened her mouth and he cracked up. “Are you always this literal?”

She tried to hang on to being mad at him but couldn't quite pull it off as what he said and how she reacted began to sink in. “Maybe,” she admitted.

“OK. Now that I know that, let me rephrase the question.” He nibbled on her earlobe and rasped, “Open your legs wide, Meg.”

When she did, he stepped between them and reached into his back pocket.

“What have got in there, Dan?”

He whipped out the last of his three-pack of condoms and opened it. She tugged on his zipper and freed him. Once he was sheathed, he reached for her. “Hang on, baby, this ride's about to get wild.”

She took him at his word and wrapped her arms and legs tightly around him. It wasn't easy to hang on once he entered her and began to move in and out of her. Her hands were slipping, so he grabbed her butt cheeks and held on to her as he plunged deep and slid free.

“Oh God,” she screamed as she came apart in his arms.

Dan thrust in so far she felt him touching her womb, but when he exploded in her arms, she lost all track of time, space, and reality, giving in to the wonder of Dan's lovemaking.

“I can't feel my legs.”

He grabbed a hold of her ankles and asked, “Can you feel them now?”

She giggled and buried her head against his neck. “Mmmm.”

He slid his hands from her ankles to the backs of her knees. “How about now?”

“Oh…” she breathed.

Then he slipped his hands from her knees to the tops of her thighs and cupped her backside and squeezed. “Now?”

“Ahhh,” she rasped. “I was wrong,” she admitted, pressing her lips to his jaw. “I felt it all.”

When Dan tilted her head up, their gazes locked and he admitted, “So did I.”

“Are you hungry?” she asked, when he set her back on her feet.

“I'm out of protection.”

“I was thinking of your stomach, not your, um—”

“Cat got your tongue?”

“No.” She swatted at him. “Maybe I'm just not used to talking about body parts.”

“Any body parts in particular?” he teased, brushing the hair out of her eyes.

“Yes,” she giggled. “Yours.”

“I can see we have a lot of work to do if we're going to be able to communicate effectively.”

“Oh, I think you've got communication down pat.”

He grinned. “Maybe so, but you need a little work.” Dan held her in a hug that warmed her heart. “I could eat,” he admitted.

“Give me a few minutes to scramble some eggs.”

“I'll pour the tea.”

Sitting across the bistro-sized table from Dan, she couldn't help but wonder how her life had changed so drastically, from semi-spinster to lover. Could she have stopped the attraction once it started—should she have thought to?

“A penny for your thoughts.”

“I was thinking about things.”

He grumbled, bit into a slice of buttered toast, chewed, and swallowed. “Which things?”

“The you and me kind.”

“Ah,” he said, lifting a forkful of eggs to his lips.

She watched while he chewed. “Do you do everything with such gusto?”

He set his fork down. “Is it a problem?”

She reached out to take hold of his hand. “Not from where I'm sitting. I just wondered.”

“Is this where I'm supposed to tell you about my past lovers?” He winced when he asked.

She shook her head. “Nope. And for the record, I'm not going to either.”

He shrugged. “OK.”

Meg stared at him until he lifted his head and looked at her… really looked at her. When she had his undivided attention, she smiled and agreed, “OK.”

He smiled and she couldn't help but smile with him. “I didn't intend to invite you up tonight for more than a cup of tea.”

“Then we'd better start drinking in case anyone asks what we were doing together tonight.”

She laughed and nearly spilled her cup. “Do you think anyone suspects that we're not just drinking tea?”

“Besides anyone in town with half a brain?”

“That many?” she asked, setting her cup down. “Was I that obvious?”

“No,” he told her. “I was.”

“Not to me; I thought you were hung up on somebody else.”

He shook his head at her. “You'd be wrong about that.”

“Good thing,” she told him, “because I'm definitely the jealous type.”

He watched her as he lifted his cup to his lips and sipped. “I wouldn't have thought that about you.”

She shrugged. “I don't have to have sex with someone to be jealous of the attention he's paying someone other than me.”

“That's so convoluted, I'm not even going to try to figure out what you meant by that.”

“Let me explain,” she began.

He silenced her with the tips of his fingers pressed to her lips. “I need to talk about something serious, Meg.”

She folded her hands in front of her. “The bridge?”

“Yeah,” he said. “It's going to keep me up nights if I don't.”

“So tell me all about it, and then I'll keep you up for the rest of the night.” She knew he needed to purge his mind; he'd already purged the pent-up adrenaline from his system. She hoped now that the edge was off he'd still want to be with her. She wasn't sure her heart could take the fall if he didn't.

“But I don't have any more protection with me—”

The imp in her asked, “How about at your house?”

Their gazes locked and he nodded. “How fast can you get dressed?”

She laughed. “Faster than you.”

He stood up and looked down at his jeans. “I'm half dressed already.”

She laughed harder. “I'm dressed all the way.”

“Are you wearing any underwear?”

She threw her arms around his neck and whispered, “A gentleman would never ask such a question.”

His grin was positively wicked as he pulled her into his arms and slid his hands to the curve of her backside. “Who said I was a gentleman?”

She melted against him and sighed. “I hear being a gentleman is highly overrated.”

He slipped his hands higher on her back and then swept around to cup her breasts, teasing her nipples with the flick of his fingers. “I prefer being a man.”

She tilted her head back, parted her lips, and sighed. “Works for me.”

The bulge behind his zipper brought her back to reality and the fact that they were still in her kitchen without condoms. “Right,” she said, pushing out of his arms. “I'll put on underwear if you put on a shirt.”

“But you're wearing my shirt.” He reached to undo the buttons. When he had them open he lifted his gaze to hers. “God, you're beautiful.” He pressed his lips to her heart and set her away from him. “No more until we get back to my house.”

She nodded, slipped out of his shirt, and ran down the hallway to her bedroom, reaching for her discarded clothes. They were both dressed in record time and didn't speak the whole ride over to his house, whether by silent agreement or because neither one wanted to break the magic spell that had descended upon them when he'd kissed her under the dark night sky. They were in his bedroom when he told her, “I've never felt this way before, Meg.” Her eyes met his and he nodded as if to enforce what he'd just said. “It scares the crap out of me.”

She was relieved that he was the first to admit to the feelings similar to the ones running amok inside of her. But she didn't let him flounder for long before telling him, “Then that makes two of us.”

He had a wicked gleam in his eyes when he unbuttoned his shirt and shrugged out of it, asking, “How about a power nap and then three more rounds?”

She flipped her hair over her shoulder and tried to pretend she was thinking about it. He grabbed her around the waist and tossed her on the bed. She pulled her shirt off and was smiling when he unbuttoned his jeans and stepped out of them. He knelt on the bed, unfastened her jeans, slipped his hands beneath her bottom, and tugged her pants off.

“Maybe one more bout of lovemaking—then a power nap.”

Her laughter died as his lips unerringly found her breast and suckled until she agreed with him.

***

“Morning, Meg.” The deep rumbling voice came from behind her, and for one moment, her brain couldn't process the fact that there was a deep voice in her bed. The breath she drew in froze in her lungs while her vision grayed due to lack of air. Then warm, firm lips kissed her shoulder and powerful arms wrapped around her, pulling her back against him.

“Dan.” His name came out as a sigh. Memories of last night and the lovemaking they'd indulged in filled her. She'd never spent the night doing such decadent things—ever. Before she got lost thinking how sad that was, she realized it would be a better use of her time rejoicing in the fact that she now had someone special in her life.

He kissed the top of her head and tightened his hold on her, as if he wasn't going to ever let her go. She liked that.

“I hope you don't think I'm being naive,” she said.

His breathing was slow and rhythmic; his heartbeat strong and sure, giving her the courage to tell him, “I thought I knew what making love and being in love was all about until last night.”

“I don't want to rush into anything, especially when everything inside of me is screaming that what we have between us will only get better,” he said, “but I wasn't kidding last night—what I'm feeling for you scares the crap out of me.”

There was a tiny corner of Meg's heart that ached, the corner she'd exposed after a decade or more of keeping it to herself. “I understand.”

“How can you when I don't understand myself?”

She shifted and slipped out his arms and his bed. “So,” she said, looking for her clothes, “I guess I should leave.”

He was out of bed and had her in his arms before she could process the fact that he'd moved. “No. Don't leave. Let me make you breakfast and we can talk.”

Her heart was bruised by his comment about being scared of his feelings for her. What she felt for Dan was so new and so huge that it threatened to consume her. She ached for what might not be and strove to hide what she was feeling. She agreed. “Can I use your shower while you cook?”

He tilted her chin up and pressed his mouth to hers. “If I didn't have to be at school early, I'd join you.”

She smiled. This was the Dan she'd come to know last night, the man with the broad hands and giving heart. “I'll take a quick one.”

Standing beneath the hot spray, she couldn't believe she'd spent the better part of last night making love to Dan. That wasn't like her; she didn't jump in and out of bed with a man just because she was attracted to him. OK, she reasoned, she'd sped way past attraction when she'd fallen against him and looked up into his eyes.

She turned the spigot to just shy of scalding and let the hot water ease some of the ache in her lower back. She turned her face to the water, unable to believe all the positions they'd tried out. Lord she ached in places she hadn't known she had. She grinned; the aches were sweet because they reminded her of the places they'd kissed, they'd touched, and they'd loved. She was a babe in the woods compared to the knowledge and technique Dan shared with her last night.

“So you spent the most amazing night of your life in bed with the hottest man on the face of the Earth,” she said as she toweled dry. “You've got a schedule of repairs today that will keep you busy until five o'clock and he has a full day of classes to teach and a team to coach.”
Time
to
get
back
to
reality
.

Getting dressed she wondered when they'd have a chance to spend more time together. She was surprised that the yearning to learn more about the man and what was in his heart was equal to the need to make love with him again.

“I'm in trouble.”

Dan glanced up at the clock. He had just enough time to make their first breakfast together special—Nantucket French toast special. He gathered the ingredients and had the thick slices of Italian bread drying in the toaster oven while he whipped up the egg and heavy cream mixture, adding his secret ingredient—a splash of pure vanilla. He planned to knock her socks off with his favorite breakfast.

The coffee was brewed and he was pouring a cup when Meg walked into the kitchen. She looked so tiny and fragile in the pale morning light. He couldn't believe the positions he had convinced her to try, and the way she'd happily accommodated him, bending and stretching while he sampled, savored, and had taken all that she had offered, hoping what he gave in return would convince her that she was special.

Last
night
was
special.

“Smells good.” She smiled and his brain simply shut down as parts of him stood at attention, ready, willing, and able to please again.

Oblivious to his condition, she walked over to the coffee pot. “I'd give my right arm for a cup of hot coffee.”

He grinned. “You're in luck this morning. I thought you might want hot tea, but I made a big pot of coffee—just in case.”

“I thought tea was in order last night, in case you'd had too many beers while braving the onslaught of Apple Grove's townsfolk and their best intentions.”

He really needed to talk to someone about yesterday and had hoped to have that conversation last night. “Meg. About last night…”

She had been about to take a drink from her cup but immediately set it down on the counter. “Which part of last night?”

He turned off the burner, divided the French toast between two plates, and carried it over to the table. “A couple of things happened that normally would not have.”

Dan watched her face to gauge her reaction and didn't like seeing the closed expression settle on her pixie face. “Before you go jumping to conclusions, I wouldn't change any of it,” he told her. “But I might need to take a step back until I get my head around what's filling my heart this morning.”

Meg's cup still sat on the counter and she hadn't touched her breakfast. After last night, he'd been convinced that it had been awhile since she'd been involved in a relationship; her words and explosive reactions only added to that conviction. How did she feel about Van Orden? Was she telling the truth when she said she didn't share? It would be wrong to jump into bed with Meg again not knowing where they were going. He liked her—craved the fiery passion she shared with him—and wanted more, but couldn't get past the fact that he'd followed his dick and not his head, jumping into bed last night. He'd made that mistake with his ex and that had been a disaster of epic proportions. What he felt for Meg already eclipsed what he'd felt for his ex.

A tiny piece of his battered heart called out that it had been more than his dick that kept him in bed with Meg long after the initial adrenaline had worn itself out. He'd been accused of being hardheaded more than once growing up, but he had to make sure this wasn't just sex—for him and for Meg.

A woman like Meg deserved far more than just a romp in tangled, sweaty sheets. She deserved something he didn't know if he was capable of giving to her—the love he once had in his heart.

“I think the coffee hit my empty stomach too hard,” she said, pushing back from the table. “Breakfast looks great,” she rasped, “but I've got to get going or I'll be late.”

“Damn it, Meg!” His chair hit the floor as he shot to his feet. “Wait! You don't understand…”

Her face was drawn and her eyes pale blue—every ounce of the vibrant woman he'd made love to last night had vanished. The shell of the woman standing before him was nearly unrecognizable. “I understand far more than you know. Good-bye, Dan.”

He reached for her, but she slipped out of his grasp and out of his house. Watching her walk away, he realized that it was a really long walk to town; she wouldn't really leave without asking for a ride. Would she?

She never once slowed down or turned around. He knew; he watched from the doorway to his empty home. But who could he call to give her a ride, because he knew she wouldn't accept one from him.

“I'm such an idiot!” He checked the stove, unplugged the coffeemaker, and sprinted to his car. He caught up to her a half mile down the road. This was getting to be a habit. He sighed and slowed down so he could talk while she walked. He called out, “Get in the car, Meg.”

She pretended she didn't hear him.

Keeping up with her wasn't easy, because of the manual transmission, but he rode the clutch to keep the car going at the same speed she was walking. “Please, get in the car, Meg.”

The third time he asked, she finally turned to glare at him. “Don't need a ride, don't want one from you.”

“Look, I'm sorry, but you didn't let me finish.”

This time she stopped, put her hands on her hips, and lashed out at him. “What's there to say? We spent the night tangling up the sheets on my bed and then yours. This morning, you realized you made a mistake. It's not a new version, just the end of this story.”

His stomach turned upside down. “You don't know anything about me or why I'm taking a step back from us.”

She was back to staring straight ahead and not acknowledging him.

Enough was enough; he gassed it, cut her off, and got out of his car. “This is my chance to start over, damn it, in a new state, a new town. I'm not going to mess this chance up because I can't keep my hands off you, Meg. I need to think. I can't do that when you are around. I made a huge mistake yesterday, speaking without thinking, that could have caused two teenagers their lives. How the hell do you think I'm going to deal with that if my fucking brain is stuck in my fucking pants?”

She crossed her arms beneath her breasts and glared at him.

He glared back. What else could he say without telling her about his ex and the fool she and his ex–best friend had made him out to be?

Her lips twitched and she smiled. “Well. I can see that when you're angry your eloquent way of speaking goes by the wayside.”

Relief cloaked the icy chill in his churning gut. “Sorry. When I get mad, I, uh—”

“Curse?”

She was still smiling when she walked to his car, opened the door, and got in. She waited until he did the same before saying, “I'll take that ride, but only because I don't want my family to wonder what happened to me if I don't show up at the shop on time.”

He nodded and drove toward town. “Can we continue this conversation later? You aren't going to just pretend this never happened—we never happened—are you?”

She turned to look at him. “I don't know yet. I'm feeling pretty bruised right now. A few years ago, I wouldn't have been able to say that or admit to how I felt.” She shrugged. “I guess I'm making progress.”

“He didn't deserve you, Meg.”

“And you do?”

He gripped the steering wheel tighter and shook his head. “I don't know, but I'm hoping you'll give me the chance to start over so we can find out.”

“Hell,” she grumbled. “I don't want to start over. I want to jump your bones right now.”

He nearly swallowed his tongue. “I, uh…”

“You think on that, Dan, and while you do, I'll be thinking that maybe I wasted a good part of my life waiting for someone who doesn't love me when I could have been out kicking up my heels, enjoying life. You showed me a part of myself last night that I'd forgotten existed… the passionate part.”

He knew he wouldn't like what she was going to say next and braced for it.

“I enjoyed being with you. I loved making love with you—but maybe I'd enjoy it just as much with someone else.” She was staring out the window when she added, “I once thought there would only ever be one man for me. I was wrong—you blew that theory right out of the water last night.”

“So you're not going to wait for me to get my head on straight?”

“I'm not sure.”

“You're going to go out looking for someone else?”

“I'm not the one who's putting the brakes on here, Dan. And frankly, since you don't want to stake your claim, why should I sit around and wait? Life's too short to spend it brooding over past mistakes. I learned that lesson well.” She reached out and touched his hand. “I had an excellent teacher.”

He didn't know what to do or say. He was so sure that he had to start over slowly with Meg, to get to know her better before they jumped back into bed. His heart couldn't take another blow like the one his ex had delivered. That's why he'd quit his job and moved to Ohio, to get far enough away that he could think straight and get his life back on track.

But he kept his thoughts to himself; he didn't know if he was ready to trust Meg. When he pulled up behind her shop, he stopped the car and would have parked it, but she got out and waved at him. “Thanks for the lift. See you around, Dan.”

His gut told him to follow her, but his head said to wait. He'd been hasty before and had ended up losing his prized baseball card, the diamond ring his ex had flushed down the toilet, and his best friend.

The thought of letting Meg go ripped his guts to shreds, but he couldn't see any other way to get back the control he'd lost when she'd come apart in his arms. As he drove back home, he wondered if he was the biggest fool in the world or the smartest man in town.

He showered and dressed quickly, ignoring the mess in the kitchen. It would still be there when he got home after practice. Driving to the school, he knew one thing: he'd reawakened the passionate woman inside of Meg—and he wasn't sharing.

Whether she liked it or not, she was his!

***

Halfway through the first job of the day, Meg's stomach started to complain. She needed to grab a quick bite to eat between jobs or she'd never make it until lunchtime without keeling over.

Thoughts of Dan had plagued her ever since she'd walked away from him. He'd asked for her understanding, but he hadn't explained why he needed it. He'd asked her to start over but refused to tell her why. So when he'd asked her for time, she refused to give it to him.

“He either wants me or he doesn't,” she grumbled, tightening the hinges on Mrs. Green's barn door. Taking a step back, she double-checked to make sure that she'd hung it properly. She opened it and watched as it swung closed. “Mulcahy's strikes again.”

Why couldn't she be as successful in her love life as she was on the job, repairing things that were broken? She'd been broken, and Dan had put her heart back together. But when she tried to give it to him, why had he stepped back so quickly?

The part of her brain that had been fuzzy since last night suddenly kicked into high gear. “Did he take this job to recover from a broken heart or broken career?” Neither thought sat well with her. Maybe instead of prowling Apple Grove or heading into Cincinnati's bright lights looking for a little action, she should wait it out and see if she couldn't convince Dan that she was the woman he needed in his life.

Hell, she already knew she wanted to get to know everything about him. Why was she so ready to throw in the towel? “Knee-jerk reaction,” she mumbled, putting away her tools.

Her stomach growled again and she knew it was past time to feed it. Digging her phone out of her pocket, she hit speed dial and waited for someone to answer.

“Mulcahy's, Grace speaking.”

“Hey, Sis, can you call Mr. Peters and tell him I'm running ten minutes late?”

There was a slight pause before her sister asked, “Do you need me to call Pop and have him drive on over to help you hang Mrs. Green's doors?”

“Nope,” she answered. “All done.”

“Well then, you're right on schedule.”

“I need to take a quick break and get something to eat.”

“Does this have anything to do with the fact that you were seen leaving Slater's Mill with Dan Eagan last night?”

Meg cheerfully wished her sister would develop a case of laryngitis, so she'd quit asking questions. “No.”

“Hmmm,” Grace said. “I hear that the two of you didn't show up again and that his car was parked at your apartment until really early this morning.”

“You shouldn't listen to gossip, Sis,” Meg told her. “More than half of it isn't true.”

Grace laughed. “Which half: the part where you didn't go back to Slater's or the part where his car was parked at your apartment?”

“I'm hanging up now, Gracie. Gotta eat.”

“Have a heart, Meg—”

Meg disconnected and shook her head. “Sisters.” She didn't have time to talk if she was going to grab a hard roll and coffee—her plans to eat died as she realized she couldn't go to the Apple Grove Diner. Peggy might not be feeling neighborly toward her since Meg had left with Dan last night, but she'd get over it in a few days.

“Now what?” She brooded as she stowed her tools in the truck and drove back through town. The sign for Honey's Hair Salon was like a beacon in the dark. She knew Honey would be waiting to hear all about last night. Meg just wasn't sure how much to tell her friend. It was early yet for Honey to be open, but she pulled up out front and walked around to the back and knocked.

“Hey there, Meg.” Honey B. seemed pleased to see her. “You've been on my mind since last night. Come on in.” When Meg followed her inside, her friend asked, “I've got some coffee brewing. Want some?”

“I was wondering if I was going to have to beg for a cup this morning.”

“Really?” Honey B. glanced over her shoulder as she added milk and sugar to Meg's cup. “I'll even add a couple of Katie McCormack's sweet rolls if you sit down and tell me what I'm dying to know.”