All of Me (19 page)

She straddled his thighs and rested her cheek on his shoulder. They stayed like that, him stroking her back and her toying with the hair at the nape of his neck, until the air-conditioning kicked in with a whirl and she shivered.

“Alec?”

“Hmm?”

She sighed happily. “You can make your own fireworks anytime.”

He laughed in that rusty, rough sound she loved and wrapped her deeper into his embrace. “You got it.”

Alec opened his eyes and winced at the sunlight streaming through the window. The edges of sleep drained away as he ran his hand down Faith’s back. Warm, supple female. Waking up and having her curled against his side, the scent of her and their lovemaking still in his nose, caused the knots in his chest to loosen.

He hadn’t slept with a woman—actually slept—since Laura was still around. This was different, waking up with Faith. Though not needy by any means, Faith was more giving. Laura had never wanted to cuddle. When they were done having sex, Laura would roll to her side of the bed and Alec to his.

He and Faith were still in the middle of the bed, legs and arms entwined, their breathing the only sound. He hadn’t had anything or nearly anyone to hold on to in . . . well, ever. Yet instead of panic and uncertainty, a sense of rightness settled over him.

Faith had so much passion and possibility bottled up inside, just waiting for someone to uncork it. She’d come undone in his arms. Exploded. She’d managed to uncork him, too, and he hadn’t even realized he’d been shelved. He wondered why no man before him had seen her openness, her true gift of healing. By his estimation, no one had ever seen her at all.

The knowledge made him want to show her how wonderful she was. She was real. More real than the majority of the population. Faith didn’t live by agenda or gain. She just, quite simply, felt. She claimed she hadn’t lived, and maybe she hadn’t by certain standards, but there was more to the road of life than bucket lists and accumulating friends. She saw the wonder in little things. It was the most beautiful quality about her, the biggest draw. In a society of technology and fast tracks, she accumulated moments, almost as if storing them in her fascinating head to reflect on later. Nothing escaped her notice.

He’d been wondering from day one what about Faith was different, what had him coming back to her time and time again when it had always been so easy to just walk away before. She was the first person to actually see him. Not the author or the money or the man who screwed up by breaking everything he touched. Him. What was buried beneath.

Beside him, she started to stir. He stared at the dusting of freckles on her nose against her pale skin, her sleep-flushed cheeks and pink mouth, wondering how to avoid fucking up this gorgeous creature.

She stretched her slim body before she buried her face in his chest, all without even opening her eyes. “You’re still here,” she murmured against his skin.

It pissed him off how she never expected attention. Or anyone to stick around. He reined in the anger because that wasn’t her fault. “I am.” Right here where he wanted to be—however much that scared the shit out of him.

She lifted her head and offered a sleepy smile.

His heart turned over in his chest. He cupped her jaw and kissed her. A long, deep, soul-searing kiss that had more than his dick stirring. Her fingers drove into his hair, holding him there as if anticipating he’d pull away. Yeah, that was the problem. He couldn’t pull away from her. Hadn’t been able to for weeks now. Hell, he’d tried.

Grabbing a condom from the nightstand, he sheathed himself and rolled her beneath him. They’d made love sitting up and against the wall, but having her under him, pliant and ready with her brown hair spread over the white sheets and looking at him through those amber eyes, was the equivalent of a maelstrom. Heady, powerful lust coursed through him, making him quake.

She cupped his jaw and brushed her thumbs across his lips. Parting her thighs, she rubbed her sweet heat against the underside of his dick. “What are you thinking about?” She put the tip of her finger between his brows, smoothing a wrinkle.

“The absence of thought, actually. Whenever you’re around me, even when you’re not, you seem to . . .” He broke off and looked down at her, unable to finish what he’d started. It wasn’t fair to her to do this, to throw any more emotion into the already heady mix.

He kissed her until there was no air, aligned himself, and thrust inside. He stilled to give her a minute, although his body screamed at him to move. To claim. Her heat gripped him in a tight fist and all he could do was whisper her name and pinch his eyes closed.

A warm kiss pressed to one eyelid and then the other before her lips drifted across his cheek to his ear. “You’re my only thought, too.”

“Faith . . .”

“Not now, Alec. Just make love to me. The rest comes later.”

The sentiment bothered him, ate away at his gut. So he
moved inside her because doing that brought peace. He made love to her slow and languid, with passion he didn’t know existed. And when they collapsed on the bed, a sweaty, tangled mass of limbs, he didn’t know if they were even two separate people anymore.

Eventually, Faith got up and padded to the bathroom. He shoved on his shorts and went into the kitchen to start a pot of coffee. She came in moments later, wearing a T-shirt—
his shirt
—and nothing else. He drew in a sharp inhale that did nothing to stop his rapid pulse.

She stilled after seeing his expression and looked down at herself. “I’ll put on something else in a minute. I didn’t want to walk around naked.”

“Leave it on.”

“Are you sure? I—”

“Yes. Leave it on.”

He’d just had her moments ago, but he wanted her again. In theory, the desire for her should be fading by now. That’s how it had always been. Once he’d had a woman, the craving for a repeat was gone. But his desire for Faith only grew.

Shaking his head, he handed her a cup of tea and poured himself some coffee. When he turned back, she was staring at him. “What?”

“You made me tea.”

So he had. Until she’d pointed it out, he hadn’t really noticed. He shrugged.

She took a sip and lifted her brows. “With one spoonful of honey.”

Where the hell was she going with this? “That’s how you drink it, right?”

“Yes.” As if unable to stand any longer, she made her way to a chair and collapsed into it. Something like shock laced with grief spread over her face as she rubbed her temples. Her face drained of color. “Excuse me a minute, please.” She fled from the room.

He stared at her cup abandoned on the table and then the
empty doorway. Stood there for several minutes, in fact. And then, like a smack upside the head, he understood.

He set down his cup and strode after her, finding her dressed and perched at the edge of the bed, holding her cell phone with shaking hands.

“Twenty-seven years and they can’t remember I hate broccoli. Six weeks and you know how I drink my tea.” She looked up at him, her eyes shimmering with tears. “What’s wrong with me?”

He wanted to hold her and soothe those tears away, but he remained just inside the doorway. “Nothing’s wrong with you. They’re the idiots, Faith.” And if he ever met her parents face-to-face, he’d say that and much more.

“Maybe today will be the day I can have a real conversation with them.” Desperation radiated in her voice.

He wouldn’t even bet his coffee on it. Today seemed more urgent to her, though.

“Surely they wouldn’t brush me off so easily today,” she whispered to herself.

A few thoughts pounded inside his skull. Today possibly being the anniversary of her sister’s death was at the forefront, but he had no idea if that was what she meant or if it was even the case. He had no clue when Hope had died. And since it was Sunday, Faith didn’t have to work. In case his assumption was correct, he’d just keep her busy doing other things to help her get through.

“Why don’t we go out and get some breakfast?”

She looked up at him. Through him. “I’m not very hungry.” She grabbed the pendant around her neck, but instead of sliding it back and forth on the chain like he’d seen her do so often, she pressed her fist to her chest. “What part of the book are you stuck on?”

“What?”

“Your book. Last night you said you were stuck. At what part?”

He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He had
whiplash from the abrupt topic change. “It’s a little hard to explain, since you haven’t read it.”

“Just give me a condensed version of the—”

“Do you want to read it?” That would keep her mind off whatever was bothering her and maybe help him in the process.

“But you don’t let anyone read your manuscripts.”

She wasn’t just anyone.

Shit. He almost swallowed his tongue. “I’ll let you.”

“Why? I mean, what about leaks? That’s what you said last night. Aren’t you afraid I might tell someone?”

He laughed.

A look of insult marred her brow before it morphed to shame.

Figuring he’d hurt her feelings somehow, he cleared the air. “I trust you, and you’ve helped me so far. If not for you, the book would still be a blank document.” She still seemed hesitant. “Do you have anything else pressing to do today?”

Her eyes drifted shut and her lower lip trembled.

Without knowing how or why, he’d hurt her again. If she wanted him to know, she’d tell him. And she didn’t. Feeling like the lowest form of pond scum, he walked to the bed and sat next to her. But then he didn’t know how to console her, so he didn’t.

“I have nothing else to do today.” Her voice was so quiet he almost didn’t hear her.

He cleared his throat. “What would you like to do?”

She opened her mouth and then closed it again, staring at her phone. “If I read your manuscript, I’ll just want to read the ending you haven’t written yet. Tell me about the plot and where you’re stuck.”

Her careful avoidance of the question only heightened his curiosity, but he let it drop. Flopping back on the bed, he gave her a rundown of the story line. Halfway through, she laid next to him on her side and propped her head in her hand.

He draped his arm over his eyes. “So Amy escaped the Nightmare demon, but he took her brother for leverage. She’s connecting with the other two souls for book two and three, but I just can’t decide where to go from there. Too much closure and there’s not enough for the other books, too little and the readers get pissed.”

“And the idea is that the three souls need to come together, fight their own fears, to defeat Nightmare, right?”

“Yes.”

She chewed on her lip. “Why is Amy so important to Nightmare? What makes her special?”

He gave her a condensed version of the backstory involving the death of her parents and that night he first visited young Amy.

“But that’s what Nightmare does. Finds people at their lowest and makes even sleep hell for them. Why Amy? What’s the motivation? It’s almost like he . . . loves her or something. As much as a demon can, anyway.”

Alec stilled. His brain fired on all cylinders and in every direction.

Christ. Faith had nailed it. The demon lacked motive. And if he went with Faith’s suggestion, the readers would feel a smidgen of pity for Nightmare. Would understand how much Amy could destroy not only the physical part of him, but whatever residual part of his human side remained.

It was goddamn brilliant.

He rolled over, straddled her hips, cupped her cheeks, and smacked a kiss on her mouth. “I have to go. I need to plot this out. Go punch out more pages . . .”

He stopped when her smile grew wistful. Sad. The corners of her eyes turned down and her eyebrows furrowed, even as she maintained the curve of her lips. And he remembered that she’d been upset about something, something specific to today.

“I’ll get to work on it tomorrow.”

She shook her head. “Don’t be silly. Go. Write the masterpiece that’s in your head. You’ll go nuts if you don’t.”

It shook him how well she understood. His fingers were itching to type. But damn, he couldn’t, not with her in this state. “Come with me.”

“To your place?”

“Yes. You being there will be encouragement to finish faster so I can devour you. Plus, if I get stuck again, you’ll be there.” He ignored the warning bells inside his head. Shoved aside that it wasn’t just her body he was needing anymore.

Her gaze darted over his face. Then she grinned. “I have an idea.”

They toasted a couple of bagels for breakfast and ate them with orange juice before making the short trek across the grounds to Alec’s guesthouse. Faith knew he was anxious to get going on the book, so she wasted no time getting ready. Before leaving, she’d gotten an idea in her head to make writing fun for him, but now she didn’t think she could go through with it. She still wasn’t sure why he’d wanted her to come.

They stepped out of the drenching humidity and into the cool interior of his house. She barely got to look at the place because he was on the move. He tugged her by the hand into his bedroom and booted up the laptop sitting on the small desk by the window.

“What’s this idea of yours?”

She set her purse and book down on the bed. Her stomach rioted. “Um, well I thought . . .”

He stepped into her space and ran his hands down her arms. “Don’t clam up now.” He kissed her forehead.

She breathed in his now-familiar scent of soap and sandalwood as her breasts grew heavy with desire. She could do this. It was time to start going after what she wanted.

Blowing out a careful breath, she took a step back. “I thought for every page you typed I could remove an article of clothing.”

His jaw dropped and his eyebrows shot up. Throwing his head back, he barked out a laugh. “Oh, Faith. I love how your mind works.” He closed the distance and kissed her soundly on the mouth. “Let’s hope I get a lot done. That’s quite the incentive. And distraction.”

Her nerves leveled out and her pulse calmed. “Get to work.” She tried for a teasing note, but her voice just came out sounding breathy.

He groaned and made his way to the desk while she sat on the bed and leaned against the headboard. She waited until he had the document open and started typing before she opened her book to settle in and read.

“Page,” he said a while later and turned to wink at her.

She slid off one flip-flop and dropped it on the floor.

“Oh, come on! Shoes don’t count.”

Heat warmed her cheeks as she laughed. He had a knack for making her let go and feel good. It seemed like so long since she had laughed. “Shoes are an article of clothing.”

He huffed and turned back to his laptop. The keys clicked away.

She returned to her book until it was time to remove the other shoe. The cardigan she wore over her dress was next. To tease him, she took the band out of her hair and released her ponytail with his next page, earning a scowl.

After that, though, he really must’ve gotten in the zone, because he didn’t call out “page” again and didn’t turn around to see if she was naked. She stopped taking clothes off to let him work. He needed a good solid day of writing and she was pleased he was so focused. It had been hard on him not being able to work in a steady rhythm, to have his
ability blocked. She was glad he was finding himself again and that she could help.

Around lunchtime, she tiptoed into the kitchen to see what he had in the fridge. She found a couple of leftover grilled chicken breasts and whipped up a chicken salad. After toasting some bread and adding lettuce and tomato, she dug in the cabinets to find chips to go with the sandwich. Apparently, Alec had an addiction to sugar and salt—a box of packaged chocolate cupcakes sat on the shelf, the kind that had a shelf life long enough to survive the apocalypse. For a moment, all she could do was stare. It was like an omen of sorts. With a shaking hand, she brought the box down as memories slammed into her.

The day before Hope’s kidney transplant, her sister had somehow smuggled a box of cupcakes like these into the hospital. She’d covertly snuck down the hall, stuck a penlight into the top of a cupcake, and whispered, “Happy birthday, little sister.”

Faith had been feeling pretty down until that moment. They hadn’t been allowed to share a room, and Faith had been nervous about her own surgery to remove the kidney Hope needed. Her parents had been darting between their rooms, but she’d encouraged them to stick by Hope’s side, because Hope was the sick one. The nurses were nice enough in their prepping, but it sure wasn’t the way Faith had wanted to spend her birthday—alone with tubes and wires.

Hot tears filled her eyes.

This birthday wasn’t such a bad one, compared to the others. Maybe twenty-eight was her magic number. She’d gotten to make love to Alec first thing in the morning, and she could do worse than spending half the day in bed reading. But still . . . her parents hadn’t called. She thought for sure they’d call today, on their own. Until now, they’d returned her phone calls, but she’d been the one to initiate contact.

The sound of steadily clicking computer keys drifted down
the hall. Alec was lost in his book, as he should be, so she’d leave him to it. She took the sandwich, wrapped it up, and set it in the fridge. Tiptoeing into the bedroom, she grabbed her purse and turned to leave when a thought occurred to her.

Alec was typing like mad, not even aware she was there.

She slipped out of her dress and set it on the bed, then grabbed one of Alec’s shirts from a corner chair he’d thrown aside. She put one flip-flop in the hall and the other in the kitchen. Finally, she put her panties by the back door. Maybe if Alec finished early enough, he’d follow her silly bread crumbs and they could make love tonight.

She stared at the box of cupcakes on the counter and, with a heavy sigh, snatched one to eat later and put the box away. Alec wouldn’t mind, and if he did, she’d bake him something to replace it. It wasn’t a birthday cake, but it was something. Something was better than nothing.

Wearing only his T-shirt, she stepped outside into the heat and quietly shut the door. If she passed anyone on the beach dressed like this, they’d just think it was a swim cover-up. She was drowning in the shirt and it fell well past her knees. Still, she was relieved to make it to her guesthouse with no interruptions.

But what to do with the rest of her day? She could go out and do some shopping, but there wasn’t anything she needed and she wanted to be here in case Alec took a break and did follow her not-so-subtle hints.

She looked out the window at the ocean and made her decision. She wished Hope was here. They’d bake a cake and sing out of key and have a ball hanging out on the beach. Hope may not be here, but Faith could still hit the beach and pretend her sister was sitting in the sand beside her.

She set the cupcake on the counter and dug around in the kitchen drawers until she found what she was looking for. Placing a small candle in the center of the cupcake, she nodded and went in search of her swimming suit.

*   *   *

Alec’s gaze darted over the screen, line by line. Faster than his brain could catch up, he proofed the chapters he’d written. He’d gotten all the way past the black moment where everything went to hell, and now all he had to do was set up the second book and wrap up this one. Faith had been right. What this had lacked was . . .

Faith. Shit.

He whipped around in his chair, but she wasn’t there. The little green sundress she’d been wearing, however, was draped across the foot of the bed.

Grinning, he rose and stretched, remembering her little game. He’d been so wrapped up in the story, the characters shouting in his head, that he’d lost track of time.

Speaking of . . . he looked at the clock and cursed. It was already late afternoon. How had he gotten that distracted? Not that it was the first time. Hell, sometimes he went days on autopilot. But he’d never had a willing woman behind him while he typed. A willing Faith, to be specific. Amazing he’d written anything.

He strode into the hall and nearly tripped over her flip-flop. “Faith?”

The house was eerily quiet. When there was no sign of her in the living room or kitchen, he figured she was out on the beach. He opened the fridge to grab a beer and found a ready-made sandwich for him. In the same instant, he realized if her dress was on the bed, she would be naked on the beach.

Kicking the fridge closed, he turned and stumbled over her other flip-flop. And that’s when he found her black underwear, right by the back door.

He laughed and pocketed the panties. She was turning into a little minx.

Except she wasn’t the kind of woman to go gallivanting around without clothes, and after stepping out onto the back
deck, he didn’t see her anywhere. She had to have gone home, judging by the clues she’d left behind.

The image of her naked form filled his head, of her lying under him, her pale skin flushed with desire and her pretty mouth parted. Her amber eyes turning golden and her small, perfect breasts rising and falling with her gasps. The way she responded so openly to every touch, the sounds she made when she came . . .

Fuck. He was hard. And halfway down the beach before he even knew what hit him.

He found her on an Adirondack chair on her back deck, wearing a plain yellow bikini and the start of a sunburn. She was completely zonked out. A book was facedown on her stomach, her sunglasses shoved up on her head and tangled in her brown waves. The humidity had dampened her hairline so that the dewy tendrils curled madly. Dark lashes fanned her cheeks, her breasts rising and falling in an even rhythm.

His gaze traveled down to the waistline of her suit and encountered the scar he assumed was surgical. The kidney she gave her sister. He’d noticed it while making love, but in the light of day it was more pronounced. A constant reminder of her loss.

He sighed, wondering how she’d made it through the pain of her sister’s death when she’d had no other outlet or support. That took guts and strength, more than any one person should have. But she did. In spades. Had it been him losing Jake, Alec didn’t think he’d have survived.

She was so damn lovely it hurt. A physical, bone-deep ache that he’d never experienced and was positive he didn’t want. The urge to protect her, to slay her demons, and hold her tight was so powerful that all he could do was shake his head. Because he’d never been able to protect or hold on to anything. But Faith made him want to try.

Smiling, because she could easily bring one to his face, he gently took the book and set it aside. Then he opened the
patio umbrella to protect her from the late-day sun. With her fair skin, she’d probably turn lobster in another hour. He decided to let her sleep and went into the house to see if he could scrounge up something to throw on the grill for dinner. If not, he’d order in, because he was keeping Faith all to himself tonight.

He was surprised to find a couple of steaks in the freezer, as he’d only seen her eat chicken, so he turned to put them in the sink to thaw. And stopped.

On her counter was a cupcake. With a birthday candle in it.

Faith didn’t eat sweets, so he couldn’t figure out if it was her birthday and she set it there for show or if it was her sister’s birthday and it was a sentimental thing.

Either way, he was the biggest shithead on earth. She’d been upset earlier, even through her attempt at bravery, and what did he do? He goddamn glued himself to the laptop. Ignored her like she was nothing, like her parents had done . . .

Christ. He hoped they’d called.

He pulled out his phone and found Mia in his contacts. “Do you have an employee record on Faith? A tax document? Anything with her date of birth?”

“Uh . . . She worked with Ginny at St. Ambrose, so I didn’t do an application. I do have a . . . hold on.” Papers shuffled in the background. “Wait. Why?”

“I think it might be her birthday. She didn’t say anything to me, but . . .” He looked at the cupcake. An inadequate celebration to say the least. One that made his chest grow heavy and clench like a vise.

“Here. Social security number, blah, blah, blah. Yes! It is today. She’s twenty-eight.” More papers shuffled. “Why wouldn’t she tell us? We could’ve had a cake while everyone was here for the fireworks last night and celebrated.” She sighed. “Now I feel bad.”

Mia couldn’t feel half as bad as he did. Or Faith. To go the whole day without any well wishes, not a one . . .

“I’m calling Lacey,” Mia insisted. “She can go to that bakery that’s doing the wedding cake and pick up a dessert or something. I’ll head into town with Ginny and get some chicken and corn for Cole to grill. Can you keep Faith busy for a couple hours? It’ll be late for a barbeque, but it’s better than nothing.”

Yes, it was better than nothing. And he knew just the thing to keep her occupied. He disconnected with Mia and tossed the cupcake in the garbage.