Summer's Road (22 page)

This was one of the reasons I tended to bite my tongue a lot around him. If I let slip one of my insecurities or concerns he disagreed with, he went ballistic. Any indication from my lips that I wasn’t...
perfect
threw him into overprotective caveman mode.

He studied my face. “When I was eight and had the chickenpox, you brought my class work home from school and did it for me. So I ‘could rest,’ as you put it.” He dragged me right back to him when I tried to pull away. “And junior year of high school, when I broke my foot, who showed up at all my baseball games wearing a homemade T-shirt that said
Be glad Ian’s benched or you’d be weeping
? Even though you hate crowds and you knew the girls would make fun of you, you came, chin up and rooting for me.”

That had been pretty badass of me, but he’d been devastated to be injured during their championship year—

“And it was you who researched lumber suppliers and furniture competitors in order to convince me to take the leap of owning my store. You believed I could do it, pushed me to take the chance on something I loved so I would be happy.” His gaze softened suddenly, as if winding down from his storm. “Who checks out her bedroom window every night to make sure my workshop light is off before going to bed? Because she’s afraid I might have an accident?”

I opened and closed my mouth. Sighed. “Okay, okay. I get your point.”

His jaw clenched. “I don’t think you do. I don’t think you have a glimmer of an idea how much I need you. Yeah, sweetheart, I wiped your tears and watched your back and held your hand through the rough patches. But you? You give a piece of yourself every day to those who matter to you. No matter how bad things get, others come first. You shove aside your needs to give, even when you have nothing left.”

Holding the side of my head, he gave me a firm shake. “If it kills me, if it takes until my dying day, I will get to you, get through to you.” Tension eased from his muscles as the fight died in his eyes. “You matter.”

Shaken, I could do little more than stare at him. I had no idea he felt this strongly about me. I mean, yes, I knew Ian loved me and he’d always been there. But this side of him, this unguarded, almost needy part of him I’d never seen, was a blow. My chest filled, heart full and throat tight.

Reaching up, I threaded my fingers through his soft black strands and tugged his mouth to mine. “I want you.”

It seemed to take him a second to absorb my words, but then he gripped my waist and hauled me up his body, mouth closing over mine in a desperate, open kiss. Tongues clashed. Teeth scraped. Moans rumbled.

He backed us toward the bed, inching my shirt up my belly. “Tell me again. Tell me you want me.” Off went my shirt, and he groaned at the discovery I wasn’t wearing a bra.

“I want you.”

Jerking his shirt over his head, I wet my lips as I took him in. Sun-kissed skin, light dusting of hair, ropey muscle shifting. A flex of his bicep and my gaze dropped to where his hands were unfastening his shorts. Through hooded eyes, he watched me as he dropped everything and kicked the garments away. Blood roared through my veins. He had a slight happy trail of hair that descended toward a thick erection. The crown brushed his naval as he wrapped his fingers around the girth and stroked. Mesmerized, my fingers twitched, and then he stepped forward, strong, hard thighs bulging.

He nodded, indicating I should strip the rest of the way. Wasting no time, I shucked my shorts and panties. His heated gaze raked over me, and suddenly I was unsure. We’d been together before, but that had been on vacation. This time, we were at home and it felt more...real. A choice rather than a heated whim. With his slow exploration, his nostrils flared, and I wondered about the other women he’d been with. My breasts were on the smallish side and though I had some curves, my body type was more willowy.

A measured exhale hissed through his teeth. “Beautiful. Come here.”

Closing the short distance, I wrapped my arms around his waist, needing the familiar feel of him against me. We met, skin to skin, and the nerves settled. This was Ian I was with. He’d take good care of me.

As if sensing the shift in me, he leaned in for a kiss, starting off light and morphing into madness. His shaft pressed between us, his hands roaming over my ribs to cup my breasts. He pulled back for air. “Tell me you want me.”

Unsure why he, of all people, needed the reassurance, I slid my hands up his back and gripped his shoulders. I tilted my head to look into his eyes, and awe stared back at me. Perhaps I’d been wrong. Maybe he’d just waited too long to hear the words. “I want you.”

Another kiss and my calves hit the mattress. He resurfaced for air as my head spun. “Tell me you need me.”

“I need you.”

With a gentle push on my shoulder from him, I lay on the bed and he rose over me. He scooped an arm under me and placed me in the center of the bed. His mouth came right back to mine as he settled between my thighs. I slid my hands into his hair, arching for more, for him to fill me. He ground his shaft between my folds and groaned at the slick glide.

He suddenly broke away and stared down at me, his eyes glazed as if coming out of a dream. A slight wrinkle formed between his brows as his warm breath fanned my mouth. “Tell me you’re mine,” he pleaded, lips brushing mine as he spoke. His chest rose and fell rapidly. He held the back of my head, keeping me to him as a barrage of emotion swam in his eyes. “Please. Tell me you’re mine.”

I had a sinking suspicion I had always been his. It just had taken me way longer than him to realize it. “I’m yours.”

A choking noise in his throat and then his mouth closed over mine. He adjusted and nudged my opening, slid inside me slowly until I was full. He stilled for a moment, cradled between my thighs, allowing me to adjust. His eyes were pinched closed, his lips parting against mine as if he couldn’t handle the sensation of being joined.

Dragging in a breath, he opened his eyes. Met my gaze. He eased out, his hot shaft gliding along my sensitive walls, and I whimpered at the withdrawal. “Shh,” he soothed, just his tip inside me. His arms slid between me and the mattress, hugging me closer, like he couldn’t stand the air between us. “Want you. Need you. Mine.”

And then he drove forward, one long thrust with something to prove, and my lungs emptied. He rocked inside me, burying his face in my neck. His rough outgrowth branded my skin, a delicious burn. I traced the contours of his back, past his hips to his ass, reveling in the firm muscles working under my palms. He pumped harder at my exploration, issuing wounded noises muted by my skin.

His response fueled my need and the stirrings of release curled low in my belly. I scratched my way to his sides, losing myself to the way his gluts worked, the rigid tension in his abs. If possible, his arms banded tighter. A thin sheen of sweat broke out on our skin, adding to the sensual glide of our bodies. His shaft pulsed inside me and I knew he was close. Which veered me over the edge and I bowed, grabbing what I could to hold on. His hair. His shoulders. His back. His ass. My legs cinched around his waist, nudging him deeper.

He gave a hoarse yell and pumped twice more, arms bulging and spine rigid as he spilled into me. When his chest started moving again, keeping himself wrapped around me, face buried, he rose to his knees, bringing me with him until we were sitting, me straddling him.

Though I was still catching my breath and aftershocks trembled through me, the suspicious wetness on my shoulder was not lost on me. Yet he rocked me as if I needed the consoling.

W
e’d been back home more than a week when Dee dragged me through the entire mall, stopping in every children’s clothing store. I had a sinking suspicion, when things settled down after my art benefit in a week, we’d be making a trip to Hickory for baby furniture ideas to slam Ian with. I didn’t mind one iota. I was so very damn happy for my friends.

We sat at a table in the food court, dropping packages by our feet. I had to admit, I was impressed. “How did you find so much baby stuff without even knowing the sex yet?”

Dee grinned. “I’m an expert.”

I laughed. That she was. Dee had managed to find me the perfect dress for the benefit, too, with shoes to match. Without her, I wouldn’t have a clue about these things. I’d show up looking like a train wreck and Eric from the museum would shun me dead.

Dee’s face sobered. “Listen, Summer. I wanted to talk to you alone before we went home.” She fiddled with her styrofoam chai tea cup before coming out with it. “We’re friends. More than that, and you’re going to be this baby’s only auntie.”

“Yes,” I hedged, not liking the sound of this.

“How are things with you and Ian?”

I blinked. “Fine.” Actually, not much had changed. We still acted and did things like always, except sex was involved. Really fabulous sex. It was both reassuring and frightening.

“Summer, listen to me. I’ve let you change topics and avoid serious conversations the entire time we’ve been friends. I know you didn’t have it easy in life. You’ve seen and done things that most people our age shouldn’t have to experience.”

I froze, nervous energy skittering up my spine.

She inhaled sharply before speaking again, as if gathering courage. “You’re not fine. I know that. You know that. You’ve always managed to pull through okay before, so I just made sure to be there if you ever needed me. But this isn’t before, this is now, and this is the rest of your life.” She leaned back in her chair. “I love you. You’re the most unselfish person I know. So it’s time to think about you for a change.”

“What is this about, Dee?” Because I was getting a little scared.

Her gaze bore into mine. “It’s about you holding back, waiting for the other shoe to drop. I can see it in your eyes. The depression, it’s not your fault. But your actions and choices are up to you. Ian loves you and I think you’re trying to talk yourself out of it. No one deserves to be happy more than you. I just...I just wanted to say that.”

I swallowed and looked away, her words a direct hit. It was true. I had been hovering in some strange kind of limbo, waiting for Ian to say,
Let’s just be friends again.
I didn’t know why, or even what was wrong with me, but I couldn’t shake the feeling. Maybe it was my depression not allowing me to be truly happy. Maybe I was just so used to Fate saying,
screw you
, I’d just come to expect misery after a shot of joy.

Ian hadn’t come right out and said he loved me, not in those exact words, yet his actions told me he did. I was so in love with him, I was scared to death it would all be taken from me. A cosmic joke at my expense.

Through the years, and especially after Daddy died, Rick and Ian had been my little knights, protecting me. Ian had been the worse of the two, bringing it upon himself to ensure I was happy. I could sense the worry pouring from him, and I never quite knew how to handle that. I’d always tried to buck up, show I was good, so it would ease the burden he’d put on himself. That I wasn’t weak. That I could handle things alone. In the process, I think I lost my ability to ask for help when I needed it because Ian anticipated my needs and just acted. I didn’t know how to tell him I was scared, or communicate my concerns.

In truth, I never wanted to see that look in Ian’s eyes again like I had after Daddy died. I had been so wrapped up in grief I hadn’t realized how selfish I’d been. As a gut reaction, I held off on telling him when I was upset or even why.

I
had barely finished my laundry from our trip to Seasmoke when I sat down at the desk in my bedroom. Unfortunately, I’d been sitting here for two hours now, staring at my mother’s address, the scrap of paper in one hand and an invitation to my art benefit in the other.