The Homecoming (36 page)

Damn!
He should’ve thought of taking a couple guys off working on Bon Temps to come out here and guard her while he’d been taking care of business.

“You’ve lost your edge,” he muttered as he grabbed a set of binoculars and ran out onto the porch.

And breathed an enormous sigh of relief when he saw her down on the beach, engulfed in one of his old parkas, walking in the rain.

He forced himself to walk when he wanted to run down the steep stone path.

“Nice day,” he said as he caught up with her as she paused to study a pebbly starfish in a tide pool.

Kara had come down to the beach in a rotten mood. Partly because she’d been forced to do that damn interview. And partly because she’d found herself wondering what the hell was keeping Sax. Even though she’d tried to tell herself her growing impatience was solely because she wanted to dive into that box of cold cases, the truth was that she missed him.

“I like the rain,” she said, refusing to look up at him.

“Good thing. Since we get our share of it. Though I’ve got to admit I can think of a lot better ways to spend a rainy day.”

She could hear the good-natured leer in his tone. “I’ll just bet you can. Then again, you seem to have sex on the brain.”

“I’ve got
you
on the brain,” he corrected. His deep, suggestive tone, which had her envisioning making love in front of a warm, crackling fire, did nothing to calm her tangled nerves.

When he went to take hold of her arm, to lead her around a stack of driftwood nearly as high as her head, Kara shook off his touch, moved away, and stood on the beach staring out at the fog-draped sea stacks.

“Did you find the box?” she asked.

“Yeah. It was right where you told me it’d be.”

“Well, that’s something.”

As she watched the sea lions on the rocks of the sea stacks beyond the tide line, Kara was grateful for the gloomy day. It was, in some small measure, a counterbalance to the fierce and heated storms Sax was capable of stirring up inside her. With a single touch. A mere look.

“You might want to come back in and check the files out,” he suggested.

“They’re called
cold
cases for a reason. A few more minutes aren’t going to make that much of a difference.”

She began walking again.

Seeming undeterred by her lousy mood, Sax walked along beside her, weaving around seaweed and shimmering jellyfish the size of marbles that had been stranded by the surf. “Something happen while I was gone?”

“How about the fact that you appear to be trying to take over my life?”

“And how, exactly, would I be doing that?”

“You called a company to clean my mother’s house.”

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t aware you intended to clean it up yourself.”

Frustrated because he was right, she turned on him. “I would’ve found someone to do it.”

“I’m sure you would have. But you were, understandably, knocked out when Trey and I left. So, since I know a former SEAL who’s set himself up a business cleaning up crime scenes in Salem, I thought you might appreciate my giving him a call.”

“I do.” That was true. But, frustrated by this situation, and not at all looking forward to an interview where she was afraid she’d come off looking like a victim instead of a cop, what he viewed as being helpful—and she saw as controlling—didn’t help her rotten mood. “So, thanks,” she said with a decided lack of enthusiasm.

“You’re welcome,” he replied easily.

She began walking again. Although it wasn’t doing her bruised ribs any good, in the past exercise had always elevated her mood. Not today.

“Don’t you want to know how I found out?”

“I’m assuming your mother told you.”

“Bingo. Give the big bad SEAL a Kewpie doll,” Kara ground out as she came to a sudden halt where churning water thundered against the cliff. “Dammit! It’s a dead end.”

“Too bad. Guess we’ll have to turn back. Go up to the house and dry off.”

Her last nerve snapped. “Don’t you dare be calm when I’m not!”

“Okay. I’ll get on board. You want me to be mad, since I haven’t had the best morning of my life, I can do that. But first why don’t you tell me what we’re pissed off about?”

“My mother suddenly seems to have fallen into the camp of your female admirers. She actually likes you. Why, I’ve no idea.”

“Wow. You’re right. That is a biggie. You know, if it weren’t for you, I might mistakenly think it was because she finally caught on that, despite my admitted teenage-rebellion phase when she couldn’t stand my guts, I’m actually a fairly decent human being.”

“You are, dammit!” The coastal wind practically whipped the words from her mouth. “You’re a kind, decent, considerate, caring, sexy man.”

“I must also be stupid. Because I’m still not getting what the problem is.”

“I don’t either. Not really,” she admitted. “It’s just that I hadn’t planned for any of this.”

“We both know that the old cliché about life happening while you’re making plans is all too true.”

She’d never met a man with more patience. Which, conversely, was only making her more impatient.

“I don’t want to get involved with you.”

“I think it’s too late for that.”

“And I don’t want to have sex with you.”
Liar, liar, pants on fire.

“That’s not it.” He cupped her chin in his hand, lifting her frustrated gaze to his. “Maybe the deal is that you’re trying to convince yourself that you don’t
want
to want to have sex with me. And losing the argument.”

Damn him. He’d nailed it. “If it were just the two of us—”

“If that’s our only problem, you don’t have to worry. I’ve never been into threesomes.”

“That’s my point. Not the ménage part. But we’re still talking about three people.” She exhaled a weary breath. “Whatever happens, Trey’s involved. He adores you, Sax. In two days you’ve managed to do what I’ve been trying to do for months: You’ve brought optimism back into his life.”

“And that’s a bad thing how?”

Because it was impossible to think clearly with his hands on her, Kara backed away. “I told you. If things don’t work out between us, if something goes wrong—”

“Look,” he said. “Any relationship between the two of us is going to involve Trey. There’s no way around that. And you know, I’m glad, because I really like your kid, Kara.”

“I can tell that. But—”

“No buts about it. Here’s the deal. I’d feel the same way about your son even if you weren’t his mother. If we take this thing to the next level, and for some reason it doesn’t work out, like let’s say you discover I’m a dud in the sack—”

“I have a strong feeling that’s not going to be a problem.”

He flashed his trademark Sax Douchett grin. “I’m going to do my best to make damn sure it isn’t.” Then he immediately sobered. “But we’ve been through too much together not to remain friends. And no way am I not going to stay friends with your son if we stop sleeping together.”

She didn’t smile back, as Sax had hoped. “That’s another thing you need to know,” she said.

“What’s that?”

“I don’t take sex lightly.” Her glorious amber eyes were wide and as sober as he’d ever seen them. “I wish I could. . . . But I can’t.”

“Believe me, Kara, I don’t take
anything
about you lightly. I’ve been thinking about you and me a lot since the other night, and it seems to me that the best relationships, the ones that last, are frequently the ones that are rooted in friendship. One day you look at someone and it’s like a light has been switched on. And the person who was just a friend is suddenly the only person you could ever imagine yourself with.”

“Good try, Douchett. But I happen to have seen that episode of
The X Files
.”

“Busted.” So much for the idea of cribbing from the pros. “But just because someone wrote those lines for a TV show doesn’t mean they’re not true.” He drew her into his arms and ever so tenderly skimmed his tongue across the tightly set seam of her lips.

Although the wind and rain had grown cold, her lips warmed as his tongue sought hers.

Her hands lifted to his shoulders, holding on as desire swirled through her blood, hot and insistent.

Then he swore softly as a wave hit the boulder they were standing on, drenching them both in a cold saltwater spray.

“Do you think we could continue this conversation somewhere a little warmer?” he asked.

“Like a steaming-hot shower?”

He kissed the wet tip of her nose. “You’re still the smartest girl in Shelter Bay.”

As much as he wanted Kara, as much as Sax knew she wanted him, he couldn’t help being concerned that he was going to hurt her. Not emotionally. No way would he allow that to happen. But physically.

“Maybe I ought to take a rain check,” he suggested as he hung both their wet parkas on the peg by the front door.

She put her hands on her hips. “Change your mind already?”

“Hell, no. What I’m trying to say is that you’ve been through a lot. You could’ve been beaten to death yesterday.”

Instead of looking traumatized, she scowled at the memory. “I held my own.”

“I’m not saying you didn’t. But you’re bruised—”

“So we’ll shower in the dark. Or maybe light a candle. Then you won’t have to look at the marks.”

“That’s not my point, dammit. What I’m trying to say, obviously very badly, is that as much as I want you, I’m thinking it might be better if I practiced restraint.”

“Restraint.” She angled her head. Studied him.

“For now. Until you’re fully healed.” He could do this, Sax assured himself. He could somehow wait a little longer. Of course, he might go insane, but it was a price he was willing to pay. For her.

“Don’t look now, Sax, but it’s a little late in life for you to decide to become a Boy Scout.”

His laugh sounded as rough and edgy as he felt. “Believe me, sugar, I’m about the farthest thing you’ll ever find from a Boy Scout.”

She moistened lips he could still taste. Her smile was slow and willing. “Believe me,
sugar
. A Boy Scout is the last thing I want right now.”

“What
do
you want?”

You
, he waited for her to say.

“I believe you said something about a shower?”

“That was the original plan.”

“But now you’d rather wait to share it with me until you get a permission slip from my doctor?”

“I’m trying to be a gentleman here, Kara.”

“I’m not exactly looking for a gentleman either.”

He hadn’t remembered her being into torturing a guy. Not on purpose, anyway. But apparently she’d picked up a few tricks over the years, because she chewed idly on a fingernail as she gave him a slow, definitely smoldering look from the top of his head down to his rain- and surf-soaked Chucks.

“You do realize that the majority of home accidents occur in the bathroom?” she asked silkily.

“I’ve heard that,” he said as she went up on her toes and brushed her lips against his. Then retreated.

“Which makes the bathroom the most dangerous room in the house.”

“And your point is?”

“If you’re really serious about taking care of me, perhaps you shouldn’t let me shower alone. Just in case I have a relapse, or pass out or something.” Damned if she wasn’t laughing at him. With her eyes, and her mouth.

Deciding that trying to figure out the female mind was like trying to unlock the secrets of the universe, and taking care not to jar her sore ribs, he scooped her into his arms and carried her down the hall.

“We’re both wearing too many clothes,” she complained as he reached into the shower stall and turned on the water.

“I can take care of that.”

He placed the condom he’d been carrying in his jeans pocket, just in case, atop the stacked towels on the vanity. Then his fingers got busy with the buttons on the white cotton blouse he’d packed for her instead of a T-shirt, thinking it would be easier for her to put on. Which it might have been. But as his fingers uncharacteristically morphed into ten thumbs, he was deciding it was a hell of a lot more difficult to take off.

Finally, they were standing together under a hot spray of water. “I should’ve asked,” she said as he soaped her slick body, struggling to tamp down the renewed fury as he tried to be gentle while smoothing his hands over the huge purple bruise on her hip. “How did it go with Gardner?”

“How about we talk about it later?” He spread the bubbles over her breasts and her heart picked up its beat beneath his fingertips.

“Later,” she agreed with a soft moan as his other hand slipped slickly between her legs. “Much, much later.”

As badly as he wanted her,
ached
for her, Sax found himself hesitating yet again. She looked so wounded. So fragile.

“Tell me if I hurt you,” he said.

“You could never hurt me.”

As if deciding to take matters into her own hands, Kara put his face between her palms and pulled it down to her breast.

Not being a total idiot, he took the rosy tip of her breast between his teeth, drawing a soft moan of surrender. After giving the other breast equal treatment, he moved on, scattering kisses over her stomach, including the narrow white lines that were evidence of her having carried her son all those months.

From the way she murmured a faint protest, he suspected she might be self-conscious about those stretch marks, yet he knew she’d never regret how she’d gotten them.

Sax found them, like everything else about her, perfect.

He continued his journey—to the inside of her thighs, the back of her knees, her ankles, then back up again.

This time her stomach muscles quivered when his tongue glided back over them, revealing that she was every bit as seduced as he.

“Sax.” Just as it had been in his fantasy yesterday, water was streaming over her. Over him. Her hands reached between them, searching . . . causing the breath to clog in his lungs. “Please.”