Love Is All Around (22 page)

Feeling completely idiotic, Patsy glanced around the room. An ornate hall tree sat by the front entry. Through an open door, she could see a marble-topped table and a picture of an austere gentleman. “You’re furnishing this place fast.” Skirting the marble, she walked toward the picture. “Relative of yours?”

“No, he’s the venerable Joseph Barnett, builder of this fine establishment.”

“For a rich guy, he doesn’t look too chipper, does he?” Patsy spun around, facing Will.

“Someone told me money doesn’t equal emotion.”

“A wise woman, I’m sure.” Patsy grinned.

“Wiser than me...” Will stared at the portrait. “...Or my father.”

Patsy wasn’t sure how to respond. Will just stood there, staring at the portrait, a hollow look in his eyes. She edged around him and retrieved her greasy bag. “You ready to eat?”

Snapping his gaze away from the picture, he followed her into the kitchen. Signs of recent renovation still cluttered the room.

She stepped over an empty box. “Where do you want to eat?”

Will gestured to a small table shoved into a nook. His face had relaxed, but Patsy still got the feeling he was studying her. She pulled out their food.

“I got you chicken.”

He didn’t reply.

“What? Why are you staring at me?”

“I’m not.” He took a bite of his sandwich.

Patsy knew when someone was staring at her, but she wasn’t going to argue. Lately she’d felt a lot less like fighting, about anything.

“So, what’s the project Tilde’s working on?”

An enigmatic look passed over his face. “It’s not important.”

Patsy frowned at him over her Coney dog. Sure, it was important. She wanted to know. “I thought that’s why you asked me over here, for my opinion on something.”

o0o

“It was.”

Will no longer wanted to discuss his latest project. Before, it had seemed natural; it involved her family, the Ozarks, and the web. Who better than Patsy to give him an opinion? But the reminder of her comment on money and emotion set him back. Sudden insight had flooded over him.

He was just like his father, trying to replace real feelings with money. It was a disturbing discovery, not leaving room for chitchat about web pages and Ozark crafts. As the shock of the realization wore off, a new, warmer emotion replaced it.

Patsy took another giant bite of hot dog; a dab of mustard clung to her pursed lips. A pampered lady she wasn’t. Cindy would never eat anything so indelicate as a hot dog, and she certainly wouldn’t wolf it down with such enthusiasm. Will smiled to himself.

Noticing his perusal, Patsy gave him an uneasy look. He took her lunch from her hands and set it on the table. With a paper napkin from the bag, he slowly rubbed the mustard off the sides of her mouth.

Turning her head, Patsy took a loud slurp of limeade.

“Well, then I might as well be going.” She popped up from her chair and grabbed the trash, including her half-eaten hot dog. Shoving it into a garbage can, she said, “Looks like things are going good with the remodeling. Maybe I’ll see you around.”

“Wait.” Will didn’t want her to go. “We never finished the tour.”

“Oh, that’s okay. Maybe some other time.” She edged toward the front door, stopping next to Ralph, who lay across the threshold between the kitchen and dining room.

“No, I insist.” He patted his leg, bringing Ralph to a sit. “You said you wanted to see the house. Let me show you.” He tossed his dog a treat and watched him trot with it to the pantry. “Let’s go.”

Will strode into the dining room.

o0o

Patsy looked at the back door. She could sneak out. It would be incredibly rude, but there was something brewing in Will’s eyes that she didn’t trust. Or maybe it was the tightening of her stomach and the shaking of her hands she didn’t trust. Either way it would be in her best interest to leave—fast.

“Are you coming?” Will called from the foyer.

With a sigh, Patsy followed his voice. She could handle this. So she found him attractive. She was a red-blooded woman of the new millennium. She was supposed to find well-toned, good-looking men attractive, but she wasn’t ruled by her hormones. She wasn’t. She could do this.

Will was standing on the landing halfway up the stairs when she arrived. Her gaze drifted to the tips of his bare toes.

“You’ve already seen the downstairs, so I thought I’d show you the second floor.” He motioned toward the landing above them.

Sure, why not? She’d like to see the second floor.

“There’s a library...”

See, a library, how bad could that be?

 “...And four bedrooms.”

Uh oh.

“I took the master suite.”

“What’s in here?” Patsy flung open the door to a closet. “Great storage space. You don’t expect that in a house this old, do you?” She ran her hand down the stacks of sheets and towels as she babbled.

“No, when the house was built, most people used chests and chifforobes. Tilde found one for me a few days ago. Lucky for me, it’s in great shape.” He reached in past her, his arm brushing her back. Patsy shivered in response. “No need for any refinishing. Do you want to see it?” he continued.

“Sure.” Why not? Looking at an antique cupboard couldn’t be too dangerous, certainly safer than being tucked inside a closet with him. Bless Tilde.

“It’s down here.” Will led her in the direction he’d pointed earlier when mentioning the master suite.

“Oh, in your room?” Damn Tilde. “I don’t want to intrude.”

“I wouldn’t show you if it were an intrusion.” Gripping her elbow, he pushed open the door and steered her inside. With each step, an emotion dangerously close to panic crept over her.

The room was bare except for the big, boxy armoire Will stood in front of, a couple of night tables, and the bed. A bed that seemed to grow in size as she looked at it.

“I know it’s not right, but I’m hoping to get something better.”

Patsy jumped at Will’s voice so close behind her. “What? What’s not right?”

“The bed. It’s too modern for the house, a leftover from Chicago. A lot of my old furniture I left behind, but you kind of need a bed. Don’t you think?”

“Yeah, a bed is important,” Patsy murmured. “I mean, you have to sleep somewhere.” She took a step away from Will, a step closer to the bed. She turned around, putting her back to it.

Will followed her movement. He was within inches of touching her. The heat of their bodies was crushed between them, forming a tangible but invisible bond. The tractor beam again. Will exhaled. She felt his breath on her face, but he wasn’t touching her. She drew in a shaky breath. How could something so innocent fill her with such anticipation?

His eyes darkened, the pupils dilated and glimmering. He was tempting, so tempting. She wanted to touch him, but she held back. She shouldn’t be here. She knew where this was leading. She couldn’t let her guard down. If she did, what would happen to her dreams? Could she be with Will even just once and still move on? She couldn’t risk repeating history. She tore her gaze from his to the door behind him. She had to escape. The attraction was too intense. The reality might melt her, destroy her, trap her in Daisy Creek.

“Patsy?” Will leaned in, but kept his hands at his sides. Starting at her ear, he blew a path of cool air down her neck, down to the indentation of her throat. She inhaled deeply and pressed her palms against his chest for support. It was too much. The pounding of her heart beat down the last of her control. She shoved her hands into his hair and pulled his mouth to hers.

Will groaned as their lips collided. They grappled to get closer. His hands swept down her back, cupped her buttocks and guided her pelvis until it nestled next to his. The hard ridge of his erection rubbed against her, almost painful, but exciting. The clothing between them added to the friction.

She reached down and yanked his shirt free from his pants, exposing his abdomen to her touch. She ran her fingers over the swell of muscles and slipped her arms around him to explore his back, to pull him closer.

Will leaned forward, tipping her backward. The backs of her legs hit the bed, and she fell onto the mattress, cradled in his arms. He rolled over with a frustrated groan and put Patsy astride him.

She pushed herself upright, her hands pressed against his chest, her arms straight. The intensity in his eyes gave her a sense of power. Looking down at him, she asked, “Is this where you ask me if I’m sure about this?”

He surged upward, attempting to capture her lips, but she kept her mouth out of reach.

“What?” he asked, falling back on the bed.

“You’re supposed to ask me if I’m sure, right about now.”

“Sure about what?” His voice was husky.

“About this.” She wriggled her hips, reveling in the pressure of his hard arousal against her. She was in control. She had the power.

Will groaned and rolled over, flipping her beneath him. “To hell with that. You’re sure. Trust me.” He covered her lips with his, slipping his tongue past her teeth and into her mouth.

Patsy met the force of his tongue with her own. He was right. She was sure. Why had she even considered leaving? She could handle this. She was handling this. Her fingernails scraped along his back, then up his sides. She was in control, in every way. She chose to make love to Will, and she would deal with the consequences later.

She wanted to touch his bare skin, feel it against her own, but his shirt blocked her way. She struggled with the tight-fitting cloth. With a jerk on the knit, she bared a few inches of his warm skin. It wasn’t enough.

Will pulled away, yanked the annoying shirt over his head, and flung it against the wall. The cool air in place of his body was equally disturbing. Patsy grasped his shoulders, pulling him back. He skimmed the line of exposed skin between her shorts and shirt with the pads of his fingers. Patsy shivered at the light touch. She ran her hand over his pectoral muscle, flicking her thumbnail against his nipple.

He jerked in response and let out a low laugh. “You are dangerous, aren’t you?”

“Only to myself,” Patsy murmured. The control she had felt only seconds before seemed to be slipping from her grasp. Lost in a wave of sensation and emotion, she pulled his mouth back down to hers.

Will’s fingers brushed her shirt upward, exposing the material of her lace-covered bra. Patsy squirmed under him, impatient to feel his hand on her bare skin. Tracing the edge of the lace, he followed it to the front clasp. One quick snap and her breasts were free. She pulled her mouth from his and tugged her shirt and bra over her head. In a fluid move, she fell back onto the bed.

Intense again, Will lowered his head to her neck. He cupped her breast and nibbled his way down her neck, over her collarbone to the swell of flesh in his hand. He captured the other breast, and as his thumb circled one nipple, he lowered his mouth to the first. He flicked the nipple with his tongue and then blew cool breaths on her moist skin. Patsy arched against him, pulling on his head in an attempt to return his mouth to hers. Will smiled and gently pulled her nipple between his teeth, tugging and sucking in a way that caused Patsy to clench and quiver in response.

“Enough,” she said.

“Enough?” Will turned his attention to the other breast.

When Patsy thought she couldn’t survive more, she felt his hand leave her chest and slide down her side to the waist of her shorts. She followed his lead, quickly unbuttoning his shorts and tugging them down his hips. Grabbing the elastic of his underwear, she pulled it down also, pausing only briefly as it caught on his erection.

“Damn,” Will whispered.

“Enough?” Patsy asked.

Will bit her earlobe in response and sent her shorts to join his on the floor. Patsy ran her leg up the side of his, relishing the feel of his rough hair against her smooth skin. The head of his penis pushed against the thin barrier of her cotton underwear. She pushed her pelvis upward, rotating her hips, increasing the pressure.

“Just a minute.” Will leaned to the side, digging in a small bedside table. The sound of rustling paper and objects dropping onto the floor followed. After another muffled curse, he returned, foil packet gripped between his teeth. With a deft jerk, he ripped open the package and rolled the condom on.

Patsy sighed as his hands slid inside her underwear. He paused momentarily to caress her butt before pushing the fabric down her legs. Past this last obstacle, his penis rubbed against the entrance to her vagina. Patsy stroked his erection, guiding it into place.

“Now are you sure?” Will asked.

Patsy grabbed his shoulders and shoved her hips upward to meet his thrust. The pressure inside her built as he moved in and out, faster and faster. She grabbed his back and nibbled on the side of his neck. Will groaned and pulled her legs to his waist. She squeezed her thighs around him, capturing him, desperate to keep the rhythm going.

As the tempo increased, Patsy lost track of everything except the pressure building inside her. Higher and higher she seemed to go, as if flying from her body. Almost panicked with want, she tilted her hips toward him. His hands gripping her waist, Will surged upward until he was staring down at her, gazing into her eyes. With one last thrust, he shuddered and her world exploded into twinkling lights.

Panting, but still connected, they lay together on the bed.

“You’re beautiful.” He brushed the hair from her eyes and kissed her lightly on the forehead.

Patsy hugged him to her, loving the feel of his warmth, the musky smell they had created, and the sense of contentment that settled over her. It should always be like this.

He kissed her on the mouth, a simple sweet kiss with no pressure, no expectations, just acceptance. Slipping out of her, he rolled onto his side, then gathered her in his arms. With her held close, he pressed his lips to her temple and gently stroked her hair.

Patsy sighed. She was content, completely content. There was nothing in the world she wanted at this moment; everything was perfect. Curling up against him, she fell asleep.

 o0o

Sometime later, she awoke. The room was dark, but Will’s arms still encircled her. She moved to sit up, but his arm tightened around her. Warmth filled her, nice, simple, like she belonged—like they belonged, together. With his eyes still closed, he dragged his lips up her neck. Patsy sighed. This was how her life should be—straightforward, easy, and content.