Out Of Her League (33 page)

“Now there's a surprise.” He gave a dry chuckle. “I'd like to meet the lady who brought my son to his knees.”

There it was, the proverbial olive branch, tentatively offered. He knew how difficult it must have been for his father to reach out, and he wasn't such a jerk that he'd throw it back in his face. Besides, if he planned to make a life with Christa, he owed it to her to put the demons of his childhood abandonment to rest.

“Yeah, she'd like that, I've told her all about you.”

His dad let out a bark of laughter. “Yeah, I'll bet you have.”

Later, when he climbed the stairs and peeked in on her, she was fast asleep, curled on her side, breathing slow and steady. The sight of her so peaceful squeezed his chest. The mattress dipped as he sat on its edge and she awoke in a rush.

“Hey,” she whispered, wrapping her arms around him. In ten lifetimes he'd never get tired of the warm, sleek feel of her. “Have a good time with your pals?”

“Not as much as I used to. I missed you.”

“Liar.” A smile tinged her voice.

“It's true. I spent the whole night telling the guys about you.” He lay down beside her. “Shhh,” he said when she stiffened. “I just want to hold you for a while.”

“But your mom— ”

“Is downstairs.” Imagine him as a grown man having to sneak in to his girlfriend's room like a horny teenager. He wrapped himself around her, sighing his contentment. “I talked to my dad tonight.”

“You did? How'd it go?” Her whisper was a little strained as he nuzzled the tender spot under her earlobe, pulse hammering under his lips. After a moment more, she tipped her head back with a sigh to allow him better access.

He smiled against her smooth skin, loving the way her breath shortened when he nuzzled her. “Better than I expected. I told him we'd drive down there for a few days. Okay with you?” His hand moved to give his arm a more comfortable position, deliberately brushing over her breast. She gasped and gave him a narrow-eyed look, wiggling away to put a few inches between them.

“Sure. I'd love to meet him.” Careful of his arm and ribs, she rolled on top of him and pressed a kiss against his lips. He pulled back and frowned at her.

“You been crying?”

“What?”

“Your eyelashes are wet.”

She rolled beside him to prop her head on one hand. “All these years later your mom still misses your dad. It makes me sad.”

“Yeah, it's a pretty screwed-up situation, huh?”

“Sad,” she corrected.

His fingers trailed over her cheek. “I would never do that to you, kiddo.”

He sensed, rather than saw, her brows rise.

“If we ever got married,” he clarified, part of him still cringing at the vulnerability. For him, the mere mention of marriage was a huge step, and saying it aloud made him feel horribly exposed. “Once I made that commitment, I'd be in it for the long haul.”

The frown creasing her forehead made him fidget. His damn face was getting hot.

“I'm just saying I'd never walk out on you like he did her.”

Her smile was so full of love he ached inside. She made him want to be a better man. “I already knew that, but I love you more for telling me. And I'm proud of you for calling him. I'm sure it wasn't easy.”

“Hell of a lot easier than keeping my hands off you right now.”

Between the debriefings, doctors appointments and flight to Charleston, they'd barely had time to breathe let alone make love. Even when they'd finally crawled into bed together, he'd been too damn sore to do anything more than hold her. But he was feeling more than up to it now. The thought tied his guts in knots. He wouldn't push her though, since she was nervous enough already about their first time. Having her lie there with one ear cocked for his mother wasn't real conducive to the mood he wanted for them. Maybe he should put her in the car and drive to the nearest hotel...

She snickered, easing the pressure in his chest. “You know what they say, good things come to those who wait.” Lying pressed against him, her body seemed to hum with unfulfilled need. The air around them crackled with it.

He swallowed, forcing himself to stop imagining pulling the nightgown off her and sliding deep inside while she moaned and squeezed around him. God. It made him crazy to know how much she wanted him and not be able to have her. “Yeah. Good thing you're worth it.” Truth was, he hated sleeping without her beside him. At least with her there, it was a little easier to forget the look in Daniel's eyes as he'd stared at him from across that filthy shack.

Pushing it all away with a deep sigh, he tucked her close and held her until she fell asleep, savoring the sense of completion.

“I'm only saying that if the Confederates took the first shot, then technically it can't be called the war of northern aggression,” Christa argued.

Rayne feigned horror and pulled her close, clapping a hand over her mouth and glancing around. “Shhh! That's blasphemy down here.”

She yanked his hand away and gave him a mock glare. They stood in Battery Park, where in April, 1861, the cannons had opened up on Fort Sumter. Michael would be proud of her. “Can you believe people went up to the rooftops and watched the firing back and forth across the harbor?” With a sweep of her arm she indicated the row of stately antebellum houses lining the street opposite the boardwalk. “Can you imagine standing up there watching your city firing on a federal garrison?”

The late afternoon sun angled overhead, bathing everything in brushstrokes of molten gold. They strolled around the historic district, past the Rainbow Row pastel houses and the palmettos ruffling in the salty breeze rising off Charleston harbor, sparkles scattered across the water. Passing a wrought iron gate, she peeked into a courtyard where the trickling of a weathered marble fountain seemed to cool her by degrees. The sweetness of roses filled the humid air, almost dizzying in their fragrance. Paradise.

“The gardens down here are so amazing,” she said, admiring the old-fashioned rose winding over the porch. “I should have brought my camera with me, so I could use some of this in my next project. People are big on old-fashioned landscaping, you know. I wish I could— ulp— ”

He jerked her backward with one hand on her upper arm, pressing her against the cotton shirt pulled taut between his shoulder blades, shielding her there, his eyes riveted across the street.

Her heart stuttered as she tried peer past him. “What?”

He remained immobile, his muscles tensed. “Stay behind me.”

She gulped, fingers curling into his shirt.

Several agonizing moments later he steered her from behind him. “Sorry. False alarm.”

She gaped at him. “You thought you saw him, didn't you?” He scanned the street again. “You think he could have followed me here?” Chasing her to the other side of the continent wasn't totally beyond feasible for an obsessed stalker.

“I didn't say that.”

Her heart thumped. He hadn't said
anything
, which spoke for itself.

“Don't worry, okay? It wasn't him and I overreacted. But just to play it safe, I'll call it in to Nate.”

She opened her mouth to argue but he leaned down and kissed her. She pushed at his heavy shoulders, wrenched her head away. “Don't you dare try to distract me— ”

“Shhh. It wasn't him, I swear.” He cupped her face in his hand. “I wouldn't lie to you, kiddo.”

Wouldn't he? Not even to protect her? She searched his green-gold eyes for any flicker of guilt. Seeing none, she didn't object when he settled his mouth over hers. As he kissed her the fear ebbed.

He pulled back, gave her a lighthearted smile. “Want to continue the tour?”

She narrowed her eyes, her heart taking its time returning to a normal rhythm. “If I say no are you gonna keep trying to distract me?”

“Yep.”

She laughed, wanting to salvage the rest of the day. “Lead on, then.”

He took her up King Street, past the fancy antique shops and boutiques. The layers of history overlapped, pavement meeting cobblestones, plaster and concrete concealing damage by artillery fire over a hundred and forty years ago. In the cemeteries marble headstones crumbled and tilted like rows of crooked teeth, their inscriptions barely legible.

“I'm so jealous you grew up in a place like this.” Vancouver's setting might be mind-blowing, but it seemed brand new compared to Charleston.

“I still get homesick so I try to come back at least once a year.”

She loved that he appreciated his hometown and enjoyed seeing his mother. Not everyone was lucky enough to have such a relationship.

“You hungry yet?”

She'd lost track of time. “I could eat.”

“There's a great place up here that serves Low Country food.”

That translated loosely to ‘food cooked in grease’ but she fell in love with the fried green tomatoes and okra, buttermilk fried chicken and biscuits with gravy, she-crab soup and fried catfish, followed by cornbread and cake made from Coca-Cola for dessert. He ordered a bottle of red wine and filled her glass three times.

“A fancy dinner and alcohol. You're not planning on seducing me, are you?” She raised an eyebrow at him, enjoying the buzz from the wine and the flirtation she hadn't engaged in since she couldn't remember when.

With a slow smile he set down his glass and reached across the table, gliding his thumb over her lower lip before raising his gaze to hers. “Would you like me to?”

Her toes curled before her abdomen fluttered. She couldn't look away from him. His hazel eyes glowed with a promise that made her mouth go dry.

The man was lethal. Teasingly, she smacked his good shoulder. “I am not having sex with you in your mother's house.”

“That wasn't what I meant, but since you brought it up... ” A gleam entered his eyes. “You sure about that?”

“And what are you going to do? Climb up the side of the house like a one-armed Spiderman and leap through my window?”

“Sweetheart, you'd be surprised what lengths I'd go to for you.” His eyes smoldered like banked coals.

The hunger washed through her, making her body throb. She'd never felt anything like it and thought she'd die if she couldn't hold him deep inside her within the next five minutes. Her breath caught. “Rayne— ”

He dropped his cutlery with a clatter, flagged down their waiter. “Check please.”

But instead of sweeping her off to some dark corner he took her back to Battery Park. By then the buzz of arousal had worn off, leaving her wondering if she'd imagined the blaze of desire in his eyes.

In the center of the park they sat in the white gazebo as twilight settled with its hush of purple mystery. Scented with roses and honeysuckle, the night air caressed her skin, the stars twinkling to life with the promise of a full moon in the blue velvet sky. He was awfully quiet and she suspected he'd overdone it today. His arm was probably driving him nuts but he was too macho to say so.

He slid his good hand under her hair, kneading the muscles there because it made her purr. “I love you,” he said, watching her in the half-light.

At the intensity behind the words she met his gaze. “I love you too,” she told him with all her heart, resting her head on his shoulder and closing her eyes, savoring the peace of the evening and the warmth of his fingers on her neck. Lowering her guard like this should have made her feel vulnerable, but he would always watch out for her, keep her safe from any threat.

When she opened her lids his posture was rigid, his eyes moving over her face as if he was memorizing her.

“Your arm's bothering you, right?” She made a tutting sound at his swollen fingers.

He leaned down to kiss her, sliding his hand to the back of her head. When he pulled away he rose from the bench and tried to take off his sling, fiddling with the strap, so she helped him undo the buckle, accidentally banging his injured arm. He froze, hissing a breath through his teeth.

“Oh, I'm so sorry.”

He forced a stiff smile. “It's all right, I'm fine.” He finally got the stupid thing off and took a deep breath. “I need you to sit down for a minute, okay?”

“I am sitting down. What's with you tonight?”

He stood there, opened his mouth to say something, closed it again.

Then he sank onto one knee.

“Oh, God,” she whispered, one hand flying up to her mouth. Was she having an out of body experience?

His head jerked up. “I dropped the padding from the brace,” he explained, holding it up for her inspection.

“Oh. Right.” God, what a moron she was. Here she'd thought he was going to propose. Her throat tightened until it nearly strangled her.
Way to go, Bailey, freak the guy out why don't you
?

When she risked peeking at him through her lashes, he was smiling at her.

“Well, there
was
something I wanted to ask you.”

She swallowed the lump. “Okay.”

“I wanted to know how you felt about us living together.”

“We kind of are living together already.”

He shook his head. “I meant after this is all over, that maybe one of us should move in with the other.” His fingers caressed the sensitive spot beneath her hairline at the base of her skull. “All I know is I want to go to bed with you every night and wake up beside you every morning.”

Her heart jittered. Cameron's infidelity had taught her a painful lesson. Was she ready to take such a huge step, especially after everything else she'd been through? She wanted Rayne, felt safe with him, loved him so much it hurt.

Despite her recent attack, part of her was dying to make love with him completely, to give him all of herself. But could she really trust a man with his reputation? Did she dare risk abandonment again? Once the initial blaze of passion and excitement wore off, could she stand wondering if he would look elsewhere to fill the void?

The old fears rose from the shadows of her mind, then Bryn's words came back to her. Love was risky. There were no guarantees, and both she and Rayne knew how precious and fleeting life was. She could either live holding back in fear of rejection, or reach out and grab her chance at happiness with both hands.