of
the roses mixed with a scent that was all male, all Kieran. “You
said you were coming tomorrow!”
“I took an earlier flight. Do you mind?”
“No. I’m glad.”
His words were similar to Robert’s, actually.
And yet, she trusted him and pushed those negative memories to a
deeper section of her mind, away from the affection taking over her
heart.
He brushed one of his hands through her hair.
“I missed—”
Her kiss halted his words. Way too forward,
but full of her feelings for him.
When she finally backed away, he was
grinning. “I missed you too, Red.” And the kiss he returned was
even more intense than hers had been, hungrier and more passionate.
He closed the door with his foot and glanced into her eyes. His
hands framed her face, and he stared for the longest moment at her.
“Damn, I missed you.”
She glanced at his hands, empty except for
the flowers. “Where are your things?”
“At the hotel.”
“Hotel? You’re not staying here?” Robert
always stayed with her. In fact, he’d pulled her into the bedroom
as soon as he arrived in town.
“Not this time.” Kieran kissed her forehead
and then took another step back. “Can I take you to dinner?”
“I’ll need a few minutes to change.”
“I can wait.” He strolled over to her couch
and sat, never making a move toward her bedroom. A perfect
gentleman.
She rushed off and threw on a long wool skirt
and a hunter-green knit sweater. Her hair needed to be washed but
she settled for a high ponytail, threw on her brown leather boots
and headed back to him. He was seated on the couch reading her math
text.
“Practical Applications of Algebra in a
Middle School Setting. Some light reading?”
“My future.”
“I’d offer to help, but I was a lit major in
college.”
“Literature? How did you end up working for
the government?”
“Not many job offers come to literature
majors. My father called in a few favors and soon I was employed.”
He shrugged. “I love the work, but I’m ready for something
different.”
“You never said what you planned to do when
you retire except live at the beach. You’re too young to do
nothing.”
“I want to teach. Find a small private school
and teach literature.”
“Are you qualified? I mean, isn’t it hard to
find a position without a Master’s in Education?”
“Private schools are more lenient in who they
hire. Perhaps I can impress them with a Shakespeare monologue or
sonnet. And you? Still focused on teaching math to whiny,
self-centered middle school students?”
“They’re not so bad.”
“I personally prefer high school, but I’d
compromise so we can teach at the same school. Mr. Brody and Ms.
Wonder sneaking into the back of the gym to make out between
classes.”
It was the first time he’d hinted at a
possible future together. And the idea seemed wonderful.
She laughed. “You’d get me fired. Then where
would I be?”
“With me.”
He kissed her again, this time all sweet and
caring. She was getting lost in him, and he’d just arrived. What
would happen at the end of the weekend?
“Do you know when you’ll officially retire?”
she asked.
“I have one more task to complete. If
everything works according to plan, I’ll be free by Christmas.”
He escorted her to the local diner for
dinner, took her for a stroll through the town with his arm
shielding her from the cold, and gave her a very long, intense
goodnight kiss. He kissed her hard and possessively. He kissed
until all the heartache of their separation faded. They held each
other close, his hands moving up and down her back but never
wandering to places that would increase the intimacy.
Her breathing became heavy, and she nipped at
his neck and felt his body react to her invitation. She wanted him
with her all night, wrapped in bare arms and legs creating erotic
memories that would last until he could be by her side again. There
just wasn’t enough time. “Do you want to stay?”
He buried his
1802-1870 Alexandre Dumas