Secret Desire (7 page)

“Yes.”

He was not only taller than when she’d seen him last, he was too handsome for his own good. Heartfelt warmth spilled from his fingertips into her hand. His expression disarmed her completely, and she blinked back tears, a gallon of grief threatening to spill out from her eyes.

She chided herself for acting like a crybaby. She had to get a grip and stop this desire to pour her heart out to him. Ridiculous nonsense. Was she still so enamored by Dustin that he could break through walls she’d carefully, consciously constructed with just a touch and a warm sentiment?

My God. She was here because of a tragedy. Her focus should be on her parents, not how handsome Dustin was or some historical infatuation that he would have forgotten long ago.

Then why was she still holding on to him? Part of her wanted to fold into his arms while another part of her wanted to run away and hide. She brushed back a tendril of her hair with her free hand. He reached into his pocket and brought out a handkerchief.

“Here, please.”

“I’m sorry.” She rubbed her fingers over the handkerchief’s monogrammed initials. Once he would’ve never have thought to own something like this. He’d grown up and changed.

He squeezed her hand. “No. Don’t apologize. How are you holding up?”

“Fine. I’m not certain where to begin. I have an appointment with the attorney, Bob Chase. Do you remember him from school?” She finally let go of his hand.

“He works with his father in the law firm. Chase and Chase, downtown in the Courthouse Towers. They took care of a real estate matter for me this year.”

“Yes. I didn’t know. And you? Your family?”

“Good. I moved back about six months ago. Mom and my father divorced. He moved in with his girlfriend and my mom is somewhere in Europe on a tour for the summer. My mother decided she preferred traveling over staying cooped up in a small town. Living life, they both say…the only thing they agree on.”

“That’s good, I suppose.” She dabbed at her eyes and wished the ground would open and gobble her whole.

“I heard you lived in Seattle?” Dark stubble covered his square jaw and caught the light. Once, she’d thrilled at the feel of that stubble against her cheek. She closed her eyes, inhaled, and steeled herself. She had never allowed her infatuation to get out of control. She wasn’t about to be another duo of twin girls with the same boyfriend. That was one plotline she firmly avoided. She regrouped, gazed up at him, ready to face him as a mature adult instead of a dithering teenager.

“Yes, I work for a magazine,
Ethos
. Not too well known in the East. We have a circulation of about a hundred thousand on the West Coast. Pretty good for a local publication.”

“What do you write?” He smiled, revealing perfect teeth, white against his tanned skin.

Her jaw nearly dropped. Most people didn’t think to ask about her department or even what interested her. She wanted to say something exciting. She should just say it.
Erotica
.

She imagined the look on his face.
Oh, I write erotica. Easy enough considering my sex life. Hot and tasty.
She remembered last night, her fantasy of him, and was unable to stop a heat wave from engulfing her face. Her inner critic arched an eyebrow, but thankfully remained silent.

She folded her arms across her chest. “Features about Seattle and national events. I’m assigned articles about current events.” Truthfully, if she could sit down to write right now, she’d fill up pages featuring him. To begin with, his hips were narrow under what looked like a washboard set of abs.

“Sounds interesting. Do you travel to get your story?” Her attention returned to his face, and his lips quirked under her attention.

“Not for the national stuff. It’s easy with the Internet to email questions or to Skype with people. I conduct face-to-face interviews for local pieces. Right now, I’m doing more on local politics.”

A set of dimples appeared on either side of his face, catching her off-guard. “It’s no big deal.” She was stammering, and the corners of his mouth turned up further.

She’d forgotten how deep her attraction ran and the many memories she carried that involved him sporting such a smile.

God, she wanted to strip him down and taste him on the pages of her next story. She imagined him positioned in back of her, taking charge. Focus, she told herself. All this time, she’d envisioned countless scenes with him, but never felt over-the-top crazy wild. Seeing him again made all the difference.

He was standing right before her, more gorgeous than she remembered. Grown up into a better version than any she’d ever created and making her toes curl.

“You sound like you’ve been pretty busy. We’re all proud of you here. Your mom and dad shared some your articles. Never anything boring. I’ve missed your sense of humor but discovered it’s in your writing.” He dipped his eyes to her mouth. His gaze traveled lower for a second.

Did he say that he missed her? No, that’s not what he meant.

She shifted nervously. “I try to cover different things…whatever crops up or is interesting.
Ethos
is pretty diverse and gives us plenty of freedom, as long as the article sells.”

His gaze returned to meet hers. “Just like the high school paper, always looking for sponsors. Ever thought of sports?”

“You’re joking.”

“Not really. It wouldn’t be that far-fetched, not considering the way you were so interested in horses and riding. I remember you were always on the move, doing something. I just wondered about some carry through.”

“I haven’t ridden in years.” She didn’t think much about being in the saddle these days, at least, not on a horse. “Mom and Dad haven’t owned horses since we left for college. I guess they needed too much upkeep. Do you remember Sunflower?”

“Yes. And you on her. The only girl who looked great in cutoffs and cowboy boots.”

“That was a very long time ago.” She’d loved brushing and grooming Sunflower’s golden coat as Dustin watched and sometimes helped her. She searched his face.

“I still enjoy remembering.”

What did he mean? She didn’t want to remember that she and Dustin had ridden bareback on her horse together or how it felt. Right before—

“You’re beautiful.” He turned away from her slightly. “How’s your sister?”

Oh, she got it. He was still hung up on Fran. Why not? Fran was the one who primped and worried about her looks. What would he think if he saw Fran now? Racing around in her black sports car. Living in a brownstone that bordered on the Upper East Side of Manhattan. Fran wore tailored business suits, sat behind a sleek desk in a corner office with her name on the front door. She refused to think of Fran and Dustin.
Bad match
. The critic snarled.

“Fran. She’s doing really well. Partner in a brokerage house in Manhattan. Her element. No surprise there.”

“None. She was always meant for the big city.” His voice sounded wistful. “She’s not coming back.”

Dustin didn’t think Fran would come back. Had he contacted her? Fran acted like he was a small-town nobody. Fran was no mystery when it came to what she felt about Mill Spring.

“Fran’s super busy. There’s not much to do here right now. I can handle what needs to be done. If I need her, she’ll come back.”

He shrugged a shoulder. Dustin’s expression went blank, his lips tightening into a thin line.

“All this talk about family. You. What about you?” She noticed he didn’t wear a wedding band, yet today that couldn’t be taken as hard evidence of being single.

“I graduated in computer engineering. Not much to say. Rode the wave of IT going big and didn’t like the grind. I came back to find my footing. I’m taking time to reassess before getting back into the rat race.”

“Yes. I think a lot of people are reassessing. Do you remember how different it all seemed before we left for school? Returning home is strange—the changes to Mill Spring. I don’t know where I fit sometimes.”

“Precisely.” Dustin spread out his hands in front of her.

“What are your plans?”

He combed his fingers through his hair. Dark, thick curls that almost reached his collar. His hair would feel…no, she didn’t want to think what his hair was like. One more facet of Dustin she remembered all too well. That and the way he had of wearing a T-shirt that made the material seem worth noticing. And now, worth touching.

The outline of his chest and torso pushed against the light gray cotton fabric. No longer was he a long and lean, easy-smiling teenage boy. At this moment, he was a man who looked as though he took what he wanted.

“I don’t know if I want to fit in a business world that takes and takes without feeling guilty that someone is starving or homeless.” He shifted position, leaning up against her rental car, and crossed his ankles. His arms had filled out, impressive and muscular, confirming what she’d believed last night. He wore black motorcycle boots and jeans in a way that definitely should come with a warning label for onlookers.

She swallowed several times after her eyes passed over the bulge in his pants. She wanted to know what he thought of her, how she’d changed, and if he was attracted. Was she losing it? This line of thinking was getting out of hand.

“Do you want to come in?” She prayed he’d decline.

If he was still interested in Fran, she’d just be a substitute. She’d almost become one once, long ago when she’d experienced the longing in his eyes, the feel of his hands, and that one, sweet, delicious kiss from his lips.

Fran had stopped all that when she’d announced that Dustin was her official boyfriend. Confused and hurt, there was nothing Claire could do. She’d accepted Dustin and her sister as a couple. He’d shut her off, basically refusing even to acknowledge her existence. That’s when she’d lost herself in writing.

Claire had refused to stay brokenhearted and had turned her sights to leaving Mill Spring and getting into Berkeley. She wasn’t about to be some character in an eighteenth-century melodrama, sitting and pining over a man who was already taken. She didn’t just sit in her room. She had plenty of offers for weekend dates in school.

She wore her blond hair long and straight, the same as Fran. Only her sister changed hers after she and Dustin were a couple, refusing to keep up the twin image. Fran made it clear; she no longer wanted to look like any sort of replica.

He extended his hand again. She hesitated and then placed her hand over his. Their skin touched, and a tingling sensation snapped through her. His eyes widened, confirming she wasn’t the only recipient of the electrical jolt. “I don’t want to wear out my welcome. Maybe I’ll stop over later and see if you need any help. Think you’ll sell the house?”

“I don’t know. That would be hard to envision.” Her heartbeat hammered out an SOS rhythm. Oh, heavens. She held onto his hand, riding on a river that threatened to overtake her senses.

For a computer engineer, his hands were not office soft. She moved closer to his body. His light green eyes stared into hers. His eyes were the color of the meadows that surrounded their homes. His face was slightly sunburned on top of his tan. His lips were generous and his jawline strong.

He smiled.
Perfect; worth the wait,
the critic admitted. Maybe she should write commercials.

Chapter Five

Dustin looked down into her face, into her all too familiar eyes. Wide, clear eyes almost aqua in the early morning light and the color of the Caribbean Sea he’d visited last summer.

“Let me know what I can do to help.”

“Yes, as soon as I speak with Bob. My appointment is at ten-thirty. Not too long from now.”

“Do you want me to drive you?”

“I couldn’t ask. No, I’ll be fine. But thank you.”

Clair stood before him, a questioning expression in her eyes. She ran her hand over her hair. His mind went blank, filled with a buzz saw nervousness that erased any idea of what to say to keep her from going inside. She needed time to adjust to losing her parents. He held her hand and wanted to draw her closer, wrap his arms around her shoulders.

“Well, please don’t hesitate to let me help. In the smallest way. I’m just next door.”

Clair was so strong, not giving into crying even when her eyes filled with tears, not her. He sighed and released her hand. She smiled shyly and walked toward the porch.

Claire was never one for outward emotions. Her ideas ran deep, that much he was certain. She looked nearly the same, no different than the day he’d last seen her. He longed to reach out and touch the blond hair that hung down her back. She was all angles from her high cheekbones to her long slender legs. Damn, he barely could contain himself from staring at her as she exited her car.

She looked leaner, the way a filly looked when it found its footing. He didn’t resist staring at her legs as she walked away, or every inch of her skin from the hem of her dress to her delicate ankles, down to her painted toenails. No, this time he didn’t look away.

Dustin watched her go up the front steps. Her hips swayed in a way that resurrected long-held memories from where he’d buried them deep.

He rubbed his temples. Good God, She was even more beautiful than he remembered. Last night he’d looked up and caught sight of her sitting in the window. He had been taken back, transported to his youth when he’d sit and wait for a glimpse of the girl who held court in his boyhood fantasies.

He’d spent many moments sitting in the dark, she upstairs doing whatever she did, alone in her room. He’d been in love with her forever.

She stopped at the door and waved. “Bye, Dustin.” She said his name softly but with a force, giving him a kick in the ribs.

He lifted his hand and then walked toward the common gate between their properties. Her father had installed it to allow each family ease of access, instead of walking the hundred or so yards down their driveways out to the road. His chest compressed. His feet were cement bags crossing the yard. How many times had he envisioned this moment of her return? Did she realize?

All because of one huge mistake, one that he’d never corrected. A lie that had played out, took two prisoners, and deeply wounded Claire. He accepted his mistake—he’d created his own heartbreak. He didn’t know if Claire ever thought of him. Why would she, considering what he’d done?