All That I Need (Grayson Friends) (21 page)

He took the fork and picked up his knife. “I know I’ve never met a woman quite like you.”

“I’ve certainly never met a guy like you. Now eat.” She motioned toward the plate.

Lance cut into his steak and began to eat. They still had a chance.

*   *   *

They cleaned up the kitchen together and, once again, Lance followed Fallon. She had gone over what she was going to say a dozen times as she walked back into the master bedroom. “The bed is big enough for the both of us, don’t you think?”

“We could give it a try,” he answered slowly.

Sitting on the side of the bed, she toed off her house shoes, snapped off the lamp on the nightstand by her, and got under the covers. “Good night, Lance.”

She sensed Lance staring at her and tried not to fidget. Lance needed to see there was more between them than just great sex. They had to move beyond the intimacy and show they cared about each other.

On the other side of the room, a drawer opened and closed, then the door to the bathroom. She heard the shower running. Despite her good intentions and her idea of moving beyond intimacy, she imagined the water flowing over his muscled chest, his flat stomach, and lower to … Fallon moaned. She tried to think of something else, but the image that leaped into her mind was of the two of them in the shower making love, her legs clamped around his waist as he surged into her welcoming body again and again.

She groaned as desire heated her blood. She’d been crazy to even think this would work. Now she was stuck. Besides, she didn’t want him to think she was rejecting him. She’d just have to control herself. She wasn’t leaving the bed until it was time to get up.

Thankfully, after a few minutes the water shut off. Imagining the towel gliding over his powerful body wasn’t as disturbing. She heard the bathroom door open. The light snapped off on the other side of the bed. The mattress moved. Then silence.

“Do you trust me to hold you until you go to sleep?”

Lance didn’t wear pajamas. “Lance, I—”

“I’m wearing pajamas,” he said. She thought she heard a smile in his voice.

Pajamas or no, it was courting disaster, but she scooted backward until her hip bumped into his hard arousal. She froze, resisted the urge to rub her hips against him as she’d done that first weekend. “Lance, maybe my idea wasn’t such a good one.”

“It’s the best one I’ve heard all day.” His arm curved over her, pulling her closer. He dropped a kiss on her shoulder. “Go to sleep. I never thought I’d hold you again.”

She fell a little bit deeper in love. The old Lance wouldn’t have admitted his need of her. She wanted to roll over and crawl on top of him, take him into her body and show him how much she loved him.

Instead, she concentrated on falling asleep. They had come a long way tonight, but they weren’t where they needed to be yet. Making love would complicate matters instead of making them better.

“Good night, Lance.”

“Night, Fallon.”

Wrapping her arms around the arm that was holding her, she drifted off to sleep.

*   *   *

Fallon woke up surrounded by warmth. She smiled, snuggled, and felt a familiar bulge pressed against her hip. It was incredibly arousing. For just a second she was tempted to succumb to the passion awakening deep within her. Their lovemaking had been incredible. Common sense won out. She started to ease away.

The muscled arm around her waist tightened.

She twisted until she stared into Lance’s unblinking gaze. The man was gorgeous and mouthwateringly alluring. “Good morning.”

“Good morning.”

“How long have you been up?” She groaned and momentarily tucked her head at her phrasing.

His sensual mouth quirked. “Thirty minutes or so. It’s after eight. This is late for me. I’m an early riser.”

“Me, too,” she said, trying to ignore the bulge her hip was pressed against. “Getting up early was the reason I was always able to eat breakfast with Naomi and Kayla on weekdays.”

“Carmen should be here already.” He brushed the hair out of Fallon’s face. “She rides in with Francisco.”

Fallon’s brows bunched. “She comes every day just to cook for you?”

“And take care of the house. When I’m not here, she’s on her own schedule.” His hand glided up and down Fallon’s bare arm. “There are still some furniture pieces I kept in the library I turned into an office.”

“I saw that yesterday when I went to get a book to read. You kept the desk and the books.”

“I decided I liked the office and didn’t want anything changed,” he said.

Or was there another reason? Her thoughts moved to a more pressing concern. She couldn’t hold back any longer. “Isn’t this … er … uncomfortable for you?”

“It’s a small price to pay for holding you. When you left the weekend of the auction I wanted to ask you to stay, but I was afraid you’d say no, so I pretended that your leaving didn’t matter.” He kissed her shoulder. “I won’t make that mistake again.”

She leaned her head against his chest. “I didn’t help by acting as if what had happened between us didn’t matter. My pride got in the way.”

“I finally figured out you acted that way because I hadn’t said anything to let you know how much the weekend meant to me.” His fingers lifted her chin. “I didn’t move into the house because this is where we made love. I was holding on to the cottage and the memories because I hadn’t been able to hold on to you.”

He was definitely getting there. “I’m here now.”

“But will you stay?”

She hated the uncertainty bordering on apprehension in his eyes, but she had to be truthful. “I want to, but it depends on how well things go between us.”

His frown deepened. “I’m not used to not knowing where I stand.”

“Neither am I, but I figure since we’re in this together, we’ll be all right.” She palmed his cheek. “As long as we’re honest with each other, we’ll get through this.”

He stared at her a long time. “What if we do something the other doesn’t like?”

She lifted a brow. He could be talking about what he perceived as his mother’s betrayal or Fallon’s leaving. “Then we tell the other and talk it through. We have to learn to trust each other. If we don’t, this won’t work.”

“And what exactly is ‘this’?”

She didn’t have to think. “Courting.” She laughed at the shocked expression on his face. “That’s the word that came to me when I thought about us. It’s old-fashioned, but I though it fit.”

“You want to be courted?” The frown didn’t clear from his face.

“I said the word came to me. You’ll have to decide if it means anything to you.” She kissed him on the chin and quickly scooted out of bed. “I’m going to use the tub in the guest bathroom.”

He sat up. “Do you think you’re up to more than your usual for breakfast?”

“Yes. I’d love to go crazy, but dry toast and a hard-boiled egg will have to do for now.” She continued to the door. “What are you having?”

“Probably the same. I’ll meet you in the front room in twenty minutes.”

“Lance, you don’t have to have what I have,” she protested.

“I’m not eating in front of you when you can’t. Now go take your bath so you can eat and take your medicine.” Getting out of bed, he went into his bathroom and closed the door.

She was learning Lance could be as stubborn as she could, but since he was being overly considerate, this time she’d let him. Humming softly, she went to take her bath and get dressed.

Chapter 14

Breakfast wasn’t as bad as Fallon had imagined. Probably because watching Lance trying to eat a hard-boiled egg was so hilarious. He’d chopped it up instead of picking it up in his hand; then he’d slowly lowered the fork toward the egg as if expecting it to explode.

Fallon’s lips twitched as he lifted the tiny fragment of egg white to his mouth. He scrunched up his face and gulped his orange juice.

She decided she cared about him too much to have him suffer. She caught Carmen’s eye. The housekeeper smiled and went to the refrigerator. In less than two minutes she placed a fluffy ham and cheese omelet by Fallon.

Lance’s eyes widened. “You sure you should eat that?”

“Nope, but I’m sure you can.” She traded plates. “If I suddenly start craving sardines and peanut butter for lunch are you going to want to eat the same thing?”

His horrified gaze was her answer. “Thought not. Now eat. I’m sure you’ll think of other ways to share.”

Lance looked at the plate, then leaned over and kissed her. “Thanks. I can’t stand boiled eggs.”

She bit into her egg, chewed, and swallowed. “There isn’t a food that I don’t like. Comes with traveling so much, I guess. I’ve even eaten octopus,” she said, then straightened.

Lance was immediately out of his chair and by her side. “Are you all right?”

“Miss Marshall.” Carmen hovered on the other side of her.

“Sorry.” Fallon glanced from one to the other. “A few days ago, even yesterday, if I had thought of eating octopus I would have been running to you know where.” She looked at Lance’s omelet.

He slid it closer. “You want to eat just a bite?”

She shook her head. “I’m going to wait for dinner.” She spoke to Carmen. “Nothing boiled or baked for the main dish, please, please.”

Carmen smiled. “And perhaps cheesecake for dessert.”

Fallon’s expression brightened. “You think we could eat around five?”

Lance laughed. “A definite possibility.”

*   *   *

In his office in the Yates house Lance worked on the papers for the next auction so Fallon could rest some more. In the “before Fallon” period of his life, business had always come first. It had been his way to gain financial independence, a way to prove he had worth.

Now, looking at Fallon dozing on the small sofa with an open book on her chest, he was content at the moment just to watch this woman who was growing more and more important to him sleep. She’d come unexpectedly into his life, changing it in a way he’d never thought possible.

Your picker was screwed
.

Only Fallon would phrase things in such a way. She lit his dark places. She was his light, his sunshine. He’d called her that once. He’d probably suspected then how important she would be in his life and refused to admit it. He’d kept his office intact because they had shared their first kiss there.

He leaned forward in his chair and braced his arms on his desk. Unlike Francisco, Lance wasn’t the poetic type. He was practical in all things. Yet it wasn’t practical or wise to care for a woman who wasn’t sure if she was sticking around.

Lance’s eyes narrowed in determination. He’d make sure she stayed. He might not know about women, but he was valedictorian of his high school graduating class and graduated from college summa cum laude. He could figure this out. He’d chance another call to Richard if he thought it would help.

Courtship. She wanted to be courted. He might have tried to do an Internet search on the subject if he thought that would be of any use. Yet Naomi’s words kept coming back to him. He had to think of it himself.

What would make Fallon happy? His pen tapped on the sheets of paper on his desk. He hadn’t done so badly with his “surprises” thus far. Yet he instinctively knew it couldn’t always be about buying her things. He liked seeing her happy and he planned to keep her that way.

“You’re staring and frowning,” she said without opening her eyes.

He laughed. He was doing that more and more. “How can you tell with your eyes closed?”

“Trade secret.” She opened her eyes and sat up. “How long was I out that time?”

“Not long.” He went to sit beside her. “You want to go for a walk and check on the trees?”

“I’d love to. At least I won’t fall asleep walking.” She came to her feet, replaced the book she’d been reading, and glanced around the library/office. “This is one of my favorite rooms in the house. It’s restful and it has a lot of history.”

“Mine, too.” He caught her face between his hands. “History like our first kiss.”

“Yes.” She laughed. “I had a brain overload.”

“Let’s see if I can duplicate it.” His mouth lowered slowly, giving her time to move away if she wished. She didn’t. Their lips met, clung, opened. His tongue leisurely stroked hers, tasted the sweetness of her mouth. Her hands trembled and closed around his wrists. He moved his mouth over hers, hungrily exploring until she trembled. He wasn’t much steadier.

Lifting his head, he stared into her face, watched as her eyelids slowly fluttered open. Her eyes were dazed.

She licked her lips. “I’d say you upped it a notch or two.”

“I aim to please.”

She stepped back and reached for his hand. “Let’s go for that walk.”

As he kissed her hand joined with his, they left the library, going outside through the front door instead of through the kitchen. “Carmen wants to surprise you for dinner,” he explained.

“She’s wonderful,” Fallon said.

“So is the whole family.” He opened the high wooden gate leading to the inner courtyard.

“You won’t get an argument from me.”

His cell phone rang. “Excuse me. It’s from a member of my staff.” Lance frowned, then, said, “You’re cutting out. Hold on.” To Fallon he said, “I’ll have to go back to the house and finish this call.”

“You go on. I’ll be fine.”

He kissed her on the cheek and started back the way they had come. Fallon stared after him for a bit, a smile on her face, wondering if he realized how often he was kissing her, touching her. With each occasion, he showed he cared. Soon she hoped he’d be able to say the words.

She continued down the path, past the bench and fountain to where the two sycamore trees were planted. Francisco was already there, watering them.

“Good morning, Francisco.”

“Good morning, Miss Marshall. You’re looking more like your old self every day.”

“I’m definitely feeling better. Can I do that?”

He handed her the water hose. “We laid miles of underground pipes for the sprinkler systems and faucets. Took us months just to prepare for the planting.”

“It paid off.” Fallon glanced around. “It’s like an unexpected oasis here.”

Francisco stared at a five-foot-tall stone urn and pedestal. “That was the first piece Mr. Yates bought.”