Matter of Time (20 page)

She grinned broadly and her chest puffed up with pride. “Well, guess what? I can.”

When his head came up and he turned wide eyes onto her, she laughed, then threw her hand over her mouth to quiet the sound. Leaning in close, she said, “Do you remember the time I tried to cook spaghetti for you?”

His head fell back against the headboard and he burst into laughter. “Yeah, that’s why I’m a little leery of your claim.”

She slapped him on the shoulder and crawled onto his lap to straddle his thighs. “Well, don’t be. I took cooking lessons in France, Italy,
and
Spain.” Excitement at being able to finally cook for Logan—and not have it turn to shit—filled her. “I hardly ever eat out, so I cook all the time.”

His laughter turned into a heated smile as his gaze traveled over her face, down her body to their joined legs, then back up to her face. “Thank you seems inadequate, but… thank you for being willing to give up everything to move here. For offering to help with the kids. But…” His voice cracked, and he swallowed a few times as he cupped her cheeks in his hands. “Thank you for loving me.”

“You say that like it’s a hardship. It’s not, Logan. You’re an amazing man, and I’m the luckiest woman in the world to be the one you chose to spend the rest of your life with.”

His eyes crinkled at the corners as he grinned broadly. “Did you just propose to me?”

As her heart expanded with the thought of finally being able to marry the man she’d loved forever, she grinned and dropped her forehead to his. “It kind of sounded that way, didn’t it?”

“Yeah, it did.” He dropped his mouth to hers and kissed her long and deep, then wrapped his arms around her and rolled to the side, taking her down to the mattress. Pulling back to draw in a breath, he settled his gaze—filled with more love than she would’ve ever believed possible—onto hers and said, “Just so we’re clear, the answer is yes.”

Six months later…

L
adies and gentlemen, I present to you, Mr. and Mrs. Logan Steele.

Lizbeth waited sixteen years to hear those words, and over the past thirty minutes, she must’ve repeated them to herself a thousand times. Each time, a gigantic goof-face grin overtook her and her heart fluttered with wild excitement for the years that lay before them. Being Mrs. Logan Steele was kind of like a great orgasm… It was so worth the wait.

“What’s put that big smile on your face?”
her husband
asked as he stepped up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist.

She linked her fingers with his, rested her head against his shoulder, and gazed at him from the corner of her eye. “Thinking of you. And orgasms.”

His chest vibrated against her back as he laughed, then nuzzled her neck and said, “I like the way you think. How long do we need to stay?”

She glanced around at the guests—their immediate family and closest friends—milling about Lucas’s living room and the outside deck, enjoying the beautiful fall weather. Their wedding day had been perfect, and she sighed with a heavy dose of contentment.

The summer had been crazy with events she’d previously scheduled, selling her house in Riverside and moving to Charlotte, as well as Logan restructuring his business and adapting to life as a full-time dad. Since they kept the wedding small, it was easy to plan in a few weeks, so at the beginning of August, they settled on Labor Day weekend. That gave the kids an extra day at the beach with their Uncle Lucas, and Lizbeth and Logan an extra day to honeymoon at Pandora’s.

The kids accepted Lizbeth much easier than she expected, which was a tremendous relief for Logan and her. He lightheartedly joked it was because she took the girls shopping, which Luke also loved because it got them out the house. But Lizbeth believed it was because they saw how much she loved their dad. She didn’t want anything from him, other than his love and to love him back—really love him, not like Bobbi Jo’s sick, twisted version.

Logan hadn’t talked to Bobbi Jo since the morning of her arrest. He would eventually need to make peace with her, if for no other reason than the sake of the children, but that time was still far into the future. The children hadn’t exactly forgiven her for burning down their house or for trapping Logan, but she was their mom, and they agreed to see her once a week, per the terms of the divorce agreement. The week following Bobbi Jo’s arrest, the paperwork was changed to grant Logan full custody, while Bobbi Jo received supervised visitation once a week.

Those kids had been through hell and suffered more disappointments than anyone should have to deal with in a lifetime. But Lizbeth was determined to show them what true love was all about.

“Now you’re frowning?” Logan asked, his voice laced with concern as he pulled to the side and studied her.

“I was thinking about the kids and all they’ve been through.”

He shifted his attention to the deck, then narrowed his eyes and leaned forward, trying to get a better view of something outside. “You mean the ones having a food fight?”

“What?” She snapped her head around and followed his line of sight just as Maggie reared back and zinged a grape at Luke. Direct hit, right in the middle of the forehead.

Lizbeth laughed as Logan growled, “Christ, it’s always something with those two. Now I know how my mother must’ve felt.” He released Lizbeth to go yell at the kids but stopped after a couple steps and turned back to her. “You never told me how long we need to stay.”

“How about another thirty minutes?”

His eyes narrowed as his jaw tightened, and she knew he wanted to negotiate down to ten or fifteen, but he nodded and said, “Fine.” His grumpy demeanor softened as his gaze wandered over her champagne-colored, calf-length dress, then back up to her hair.

The air between them grew charged as he stared into her eyes and sauntered closer. She thought he was coming back to kiss her, but instead, he leaned in so his mouth was next to her ear and said, “You’re absolutely stunning in that dress with your hair up in that fancy twist. But when we get to Pandora’s, lose the dress, the pearly pins, let your hair down, and get ready to hold on tight.”

Other books in the
Heat Wave
series are:

Saving Me (Heat Wave Novel #1)

Last Call (Heat Wave Novel #2)

Crossing Lines (Heat Wave Novel #3)

Going All In (Heat Wave Novel #4)

Each book in the
Heat Wave
series stands alone and can be read out of order.

Keep reading for a sneak peak preview of
Coveted
from the upcoming Pandora’s Playground series (releasing in fall 2015).

Author note: Even though Lucas Steele is featured in this excerpt, he’s simply a facilitator of romance for Muriel and Mathew, her hero. Lucas will, however, get his own happily-ever-after in
Exposed (Pandora’s Playground #2)

A
s her car’s brake lights flashed on and off, then disappeared into the nearby parking garage, a spear of paralyzing fear shot down Muriel Stewart’s spine and into her legs, anchoring her four-inch Jimmy Choos to the sidewalk like lag bolts.

With her only method of escape out of sight, she turned her gaze to the broad steps and heavy wooden doors in front of her, opened her mouth, and drew in a deep breath of cool evening air. She’d gotten used to flying solo over the last year, but the tightness in her chest and the lack of oxygen reaching her lungs proved there were still a few things she wasn’t comfortable doing alone.

Visiting Pandora’s Playground was apparently one of them.

“Oh, c’mon, Muriel,” she growled through clenched teeth as she fisted her hands at her sides. “This is ridiculous.”

Pandora’s Playground had been a second home to her late husband, Ian, and her over the past three years—four if she counted the year they’d spent transforming the old live-performance theater into one of the most exclusive kink clubs in the southeast.

All their closest friends were members, and there wasn’t any place she felt more comfortable, or loved, than at the club.

However, at the moment, she felt like a wild animal: frightened and cornered with no means of escape, even though she stood at the edge of a wide-open street.

She brushed away a piece of hair tickling the corner of her eye and futilely wished the suffocating panic closing in on her could be so easily swept away. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. She wasn’t supposed to arrive alone at a club like this. She was supposed to be with Ian.

Dammit, why did I agree to come here tonight?

Because rather than using his concerned-friend voice to initiate the invitation, Master Lucas had spoken to her like a Dom commanding a sub. “Be at the club Friday night, eight sharp.”

Before her brain cells established a defensive position and declined the invitation, her compliant, submissive soul stepped forward and spoke on her behalf. “Yes, Sir.”

She could’ve called him back and told him she had plans she’d forgotten about and couldn’t make it, but the truth was she missed Pandora’s and her friends. She missed her old life… and her old self. Following his command, she’d arrived precisely at eight, but her resident scaredy-cat kept waving her paw, reminding Muriel that while he’d told her to be at the club at eight, he hadn’t actually said anything about
entering
the building.

The overhead canopy loomed like an ominous dark cloud, but the embedded lights casting a glow over her no doubt illuminated every fear and worry line creasing her face.

She lifted her gaze to the security camera mounted in the corner and stared at it like she could see through the lens and into the eyes of the man she knew was watching.

If she continued to stand there looking desperate and pathetic, would he take pity on her and come to her rescue?

No, probably not. Lucas Steele was the most patient man, as well as one of the most disciplined Doms, she’d ever met. Even if it took her hours to make up her mind, he would patiently stand in front of the monitor, watching and protecting from a distance, just as he’d done for the past year.

The problem was even though she was physically safe and sound, she was an emotional mess. She huffed at the notion that would matter to him. He was a Dom… He thrived on keeping submissives in a state of upheaval. Her emotional earthquake sure as hell wouldn’t spur him into action.

She chewed her bottom lip and returned her attention to the doors—the ones she’d never walked through alone. The prospect of doing so tonight threw a wash of sadness over her, burning her eyes and causing her to sway on the stilettos Ian loved so much. Without his warm, loving hands to steady her, she had no choice but to grab hold of the cold, brass handrail and support herself.

The sight of her bare ring finger intensified the burn in her eyes and forced her to clamp down on her lip to stop the trembling.

“You’re not here to play, Muriel. You’re here to visit with friends… and maybe… possibly… if it feels right… start slowly moving forward with your life.”

Which meant she needed to start moving in the direction of those damned doors before she got ticketed for loitering. Having Lucas play witness to her chicken-skinned approach was bad enough. She didn’t need the added embarrassment of the valet returning from the garage to find her rooted where he’d left her.

With a deep breath, she concentrated on the toes of her shoes as she lifted first one foot, then the other, slowly… cautiously… climbing the red-carpeted steps to the club’s grand entrance.

The vertical brass handles were icy under her fingers and the heavy door seemed to pull against her as she tugged it open. The warm ambiance of the lobby reached out invitingly, so she slipped through the crack in the door and stepped inside.