Perfect Together (17 page)

“I promised my father I’d help him around the house. You were out cold and I didn’t want to wake you.”

“So
what can I do for you now?” she asked.

He laughed, low and deep. “That’s a loaded question while you’re naked in the bathtub, sweetheart.”

Her breath caught at the easily used endearment.

“Actually you can join me for dinner later.”

A flush of happiness rushed through her. “I’d love to.”

“See? I can take you out like a gentleman,” he said, causing her heart to tighten in her chest. “Dress up.”

“Okay.”%

“And be good in that bath.”

Her face flushed and she wondered if he knew just how bad she planned to be.

The rest of the day passed quickly, with a trip to the grocery store, and then she spent the better part of the afternoon doing her favorite thing: baking. Nothing made a house feel more like a home than the fresh smell of homemade
anything
, and now that she had her own equipment, this small house was beginning to feel like a real home to her.

She settled on macarons, the currently in-vogue French cookie. The recipe for these cookies was deceptively simple, but in reality, it was intense and time consuming and took lots of patience, of which she had plenty.

For hours, she lost herself in a process she found soothing. She knew just how soft to make the peaks of the egg whites before adding another ingredient, then whisking once more. Then came the pastry bag and the painstaking creation of rounds without peaks by bringing the pastry tip to the side.

She made chocolate ganache and Swiss buttercream filling, so Sam would have a choice, keeping an eye on the oven as she worked. Another part of the process involved a careful watching of time, lowering then raising the temperature
for the next batch. A bomb could have gone off in the next room and she wouldn’t have noticed, and when she finally lifted her head to glance at the clock, she realized she didn’t have much time to shower before Sam arrived to pick her up.

Dress up, he’d said.

She chose a soft pale blue skirt and flowing tank top loosely belted, and a pair of metallic sandals. She blow-dried her hair, but parts were still damp and she decided it could air-dry. A hint of blush and lip gloss, bangle bracelets, a long necklace, and dangling earrings, and she was ready with minutes to spare.

Then her cell phone rang. A glance told her it was her sister, which was unusual and off the set schedule.

“Hello?” Nicole asked, aware she was holding her breath.

“Hi! I have the best news!” Vicky said, sounding more excited than Nicole could remember.

Very
up
, and a prickle of nerves assaulted Nicole.

“What’s up?” she asked as she settled onto her bed.

Vicky squealed in excitement. “My doctor said if I keep progressing like this, I can take a day trip out of here. You know, like a test run to see how I handle being back out in the world.”

Nicole swallowed hard. It was one thing to think about her sister getting better, another to contemplate her being out. “Are you sure you’re ready?”

“I am. I just need someone to agree to be my guardian for the day.”

Another nervous flutter took up residence in Nicole’s stomach, and she shivered.

“. . . But I’m sure Mom or Dad will agree,” Vicky continued, obviously rambling with excitement.

“I
just don’t want you to set yourself up for disappointment,” Nicole warned her.

“It’s one day. Twelve hours. Less even.”

Nicole shook her head at how Vicky tended to hang on to her optimism when it came to their parents, mostly because her mind ran toward the delusional. “We’ll see, I guess.”

“Oops! Gotta go. My time’s up. Bye!” her sister said, and disconnected the call.

Nicole prayed their parents would step up, but she had her doubts. Which meant Vicky would ask to visit Nicole for the day instead, and nobody in Serendipity would want to deal with that. Especially not the Marsdens.

She closed her eyes, thinking of Sam’s family. They’d been kind to her about her sister, but that was easy when Vicky was out of sight. Faced with her return? Nicole shuddered at the definite conflict inherent in that situation.

The ringing of her doorbell interrupted her thoughts. She glanced out the window by the door and smiled when she saw Sam in khaki pants and a collared shirt. He oozed male confidence and sex appeal, his scruffy hair untamed despite obvious efforts.

She let him in and he greeted her with a warm kiss on the mouth. His lips lingered and she sighed into him.

“Mmm, that’s nice,” she said, running her tongue over her lips.

She could be so happy here and she didn’t want her sister to ruin what she was building in Serendipity, she thought, then immediately felt guilty and selfish.

“Just nice?” Sam asked, his brows wrinkled.

“Very nice,” she amended, chiding herself to push thoughts of her sister and her problems out of her mind.

She
had a hot man waiting for her and she wasn’t about to waste time thinking about things that might not happen. There was always the chance that her sister’s doctor wouldn’t allow her to come to Serendipity at all.

And if he did?

Nicole would stand by her twin. They were blood. She had no choice.

Sam narrowed his gaze. Nicole’s preoccupied tone set off warning signals that something was up. Especially since he didn’t think his kissing skills had gone south since he saw her last. She was barely paying attention when usually she couldn’t keep her hands to herself when they were alone.

“What’s wrong?” Although she’d definitely dressed for their date, looking hot and sexy, her mind was somewhere else.

And when she glanced at her phone before answering him, she confirmed his suspicions.

“I just spoke to my sister.”

He preferred not to think about her mentally ill twin, but as he’d told his brother, they were two different people. “Is everything okay?”

She rolled her shoulders and sighed. “Her doctor says she’s ready for a day visit, and she’s hoping my parents will let her come home.”

His gut cramped at the thought of her twin out and about in the world. “Why wouldn’t they?”

Nicole pinched the bridge of her nose. “You know what? Let’s not discuss my dysfunctional family.”

He placed his hands on her shoulders, massaging her tense muscles in the hopes of getting her to relax. “You can talk to me,” he said, meaning it.

She shook her head. “Nobody should have to handle my
load but me. I appreciate it, though.” She shifted her gaze. “So where are we going for dinner?”

He ought to not just respect her need for privacy, but be happy with her unwillingness to share. The more distance they kept between them, the better. She was too easy to fall for. But it bothered him that she wouldn’t confide in him about her problems and feelings. Shit. No feelings. He shook his head and forced himself to take her cue and move on to the rest of the evening.

He’d made a reservation at a steak house about twenty-five minutes outside Serendipity. Once there, he’d requested a quiet table in the back, where he held her hand and plied her with good wine, and visibly she relaxed. The tightness in her expression eased and her eyes, which had seemed so troubled earlier, were clearer and focused on him.

Their secluded table consisted of a booth in the back corner and let him sit beside her, not across the table. He could lean in and inhale her floral scent, watch her enjoy her meal, and shift positions so their thighs aligned and touched throughout the various courses.

They talked about nothing and everything and Sam learned how much they had in common, from enjoying all the new police procedural shows on television to the occasional raunchy comedy—which surprised him—to classic rock tunes. They differed on sports. She hated football, which only made him determined to teach her the workings of the game and change her mind this upcoming season.

Finally she placed her fork and knife down on her plate and let out a pleased sigh that went right to his groin. “The best steak ever,” she said.

“Worth the trip,” he agreed, for more reasons than the
food. He’d do just about anything to keep the satisfied smile on her face, not to mention the way she looked at him, unable to take her eyes off him for a second. The feeling was more than mutual.

She finished her second glass of red wine and the waiter immediately came around asking if she’d like a refill. “No, thank you.” She covered the top of the glass with her hand.

“Tipsy?” he asked.

She smiled. “Pleasantly buzzed.”

He, on the other hand, was perfectly sober and driving them home, but he could freely admit to being high on her alone. There’d never been a lull in the conversation. Everything she talked about, from her plans for the bakery, which she hoped to have the keys to next week, to stories of how she’d managed to raise big money for Tyler’s mother’s campaign for borough president, both charmed and interested him.

“Enough about me. What makes Sam Marsden tick?” she asked.

“Right now,
you’re
making me tick,” he said, leaning in close and nuzzling his nose into the crook of her neck. He wanted to get inside her skin.

“Flatterer.”

His hand slid to her thigh and a blush rose to her cheeks as she squirmed beside him. “We’re in public.”

He glanced around the darkened corner of the restaurant. “Umm, no we aren’t. And nobody can see.” Inch by inch, he slid the material of her long skirt up her legs, until his palm touched the bare skin of her thigh.

Leaning in, he whispered, “Relax.” Then he licked at the small patch of skin behind her ear.

She
rewarded him with a full body shudder and her nipples tightened into buds visible beneath her top.

“You’re a bad boy, Sam,” she said, her voice husky and raw.

“It’s only bad if we get caught. If we don’t, it’s all good.”

She looked up at him through eyes half open. “Why?”

“Because you were stressed and need some relief.” And because he desired her and he couldn’t wait until they got home.

She studied his face, making him wonder not only what she was looking for, but if she’d find it. Then to his surprise, she relaxed, the muscles in her legs gave way, and she opened for him. The trust inherent in that one move humbled him—and truly frightened the young man inside him who’d had his heart and his own trust ripped to shreds one October morning.

The only way he could ignore his rapidly beating heart was to focus on Nicole’s pleasure. Around them, he heard the sounds of a busy night at a restaurant. Busboys loading trays, waiters checking in at tables, conversations between patrons.

He’d paid and tipped for privacy, and until he asked for a check, they’d be alone. He kept asking himself why he was putting in the extra effort to wine, dine, and seduce her, and all he could come up with was Nicole. She’d been afraid he was in it for sex only, and he wanted to take her out in public and reassure her. Treat her like the lady she was.

He told himself it didn’t have anything to do with her fancy ex-fiancé, but he wasn’t so sure. A part of him figured this was his way of competing. Not that she’d made him feel like Tyler was in the running, but she deserved to be wined and dined.

Pleasured.

Beneath
the tablecloth, he drew her skirt up over her thighs and cupped her completely, her damp heat pulsating against his palm. Her breath caught and her eyes opened wide, but she didn’t stop him as he pushed aside her flimsy underwear and slid his finger along her slick folds.

Her lips parted and she sighed.

“Shh,” he said, brushing her hair off her cheek. With his hidden hand, he shifted positions until his fingertip touched her clit. Her hips jerked in response and he turned her head toward him, sealing his lips over hers.

He kissed her while he stroked the tiny bud, all the while aware of her increasing wetness and building desire, the hushed moans he devoured with his mouth, and the way her smaller hands gripped his sides. He kept up the pressure, her feminine juices coating his finger. His dick wanted inside her so badly he could barely breathe, but that meant he had to get her home. So first she had to come.

He stroked her harder, more insistently. Circled his finger over and over her clit until he silenced her cries with his mouth, thrusting his tongue inside her in the same rhythm he used to control her orgasm with his finger.

Soon he gentled the kiss as she came down.

He touched his forehead to hers. “Okay?” he asked her.

“Sublime.”

He tilted his head back and met her hazy gaze. “Beautiful.”

Her cheeks were pink, her lips swollen. “Mortified.”

He brushed his thumb over her mouth. “Don’t be. Nobody knows but us. And now that you’ve had dessert, it’s time for the check.”

“Maybe
I’ve had dessert, but you haven’t.” She smiled at him then. “Hurry up so it can be your turn.”

In that instant, Sam knew he was falling for this woman and there wasn’t a damned thing he could do to stop it.

As the art festival and the weekend approached,
Serendipity grew more crowded with people Sam didn’t know or recognize. Mike put more cops on foot patrol and Sam was grateful he’d made detective or he’d be working even longer hours. He hadn’t seen Nicole since spending the night at her house after their date. He did, however, have enough memories to keep him going.

They hadn’t slept much and he discovered that despite the occasional shyness, she was a match for him in bed as well as out. She’d made him breakfast, the best egg and cheese omelet he’d ever eaten, and sent him home with cookies she’d obviously baked the day before and had ready for him when it was time for him to head home to shower and go to work.

He’d never slept at a woman’s place nor had one stay over at his for obvious reasons, yet doing it with Nicole felt right. Despite the fact that he was feeling uncomfortably domesticated, he couldn’t get her out of his head. He called her that day and again during the week, and damned if hearing her voice didn’t add something to his long day. Even when working, he found his mind drifting, her blue eyes and the sounds she made when he was deep inside her staying with him wherever he went.