Welcome Back to Apple Grove (24 page)

“You weren’t?”

He raised his head and looked up at the ceiling. “Please,” he said. “I’ve got mad foreplay skills.”

She had to agree with him. The times they’d made love, she’d been gasping for breath and shivering with need. “I suppose that’s true.”

He grabbed her hand and yanked her close until she lost her balance and tumbled against his chest. “Maybe I’d better remind you.”

Grace had no time to think, as, in seconds, she was bombarded with mind-numbing pleasure as he proceeded to do just that.

Later, when they’d exhausted themselves, she shifted so she could lay her head against his heart. “Mad skills,” she agreed, closing her eyes and drifting off to sleep.

“What are you going to do with that?” he asked as Grace paused in the act of pulling a shirt over her head.

“Wear it.”

His sigh sounded world-weary. “I thought I explained about keeping you naked.”

“You weren’t really serious about that,” she said. “Were you?”

He eased off the bed and took the shirt from her. Skin to skin, heat to heat felt decadent and delicious, but going without clothes while doing everyday things like cooking and eating was beyond her comprehension.

“I can’t.”

He brushed her hair out of her eyes and cupped her face in his hands. “You’re way too uptight.”

She shook her head. “I can’t go out into your kitchen and make breakfast.”

“Sure you can.”

“Not without clothes on.”

He let his forehead rest against hers. “I can see this will require a breaking-in period.”

She pushed back in his arms. “What does that mean?”

He walked over to the side of the bed and lifted up his T-shirt. “You can borrow one of my shirts.”

“But they’re too big and slide off my shoulders.”

His smile was slow and lethal to her heart. “I know.”

She took the shirt when he held it out to her. “What about my underwear?”

He shook his head. “My T-shirt or nothing.”

She sighed. “You drive a hard bargain.” When he followed her out of the bedroom she stopped. “Aren’t you going to put something on?”

He stared at her mouth for the longest time before letting his gaze meet hers. “Not yet.”

She had an idea of the direction of his thoughts, but he seemed content to let her make breakfast for them while he made the coffee, distracting her with the bronzed perfection of his body.

She burned the toast because he just had to slip past her, brushing against her until every cell in her body stood at attention—but then again, so did his.

“I’m going to be late if you keep distracting me.”

“How am I doing that?”

“Don’t try to get around me with that little boy voice and feigned innocence.” She frowned. “I promised my dad that I’d be there today. Don’t make this so hard for me.”

He stood up and heaved another deep sigh. “All right. We’ll do it your way.” He walked out of the kitchen, leaving her to scrape the blackened edges off the toast.

When he returned, he was wearing a pair of cutoffs. “Better?”

She swallowed the mouthful of coffee and nodded. Words could not begin to describe how yummy he looked wearing those worn out, ragged jeans shorts. She tried to eat without sneaking peaks at him but in the end gave in and openly stared.

“What now?”

She wiped her mouth on the napkin and set it by her plate. “Did anyone ever tell you how beautiful you are?”

His face flushed a deep rosy color. “Guys are handsome,” he began.

“You aren’t,” she told him. When his head shot up and their gazes met, she reached for his hand and said, “Deal with it, Patrick. You’re drop-dead gorgeous.”

He watched her in silence then slowly shook his head. “That’s like saying a guy’s pretty,” he grumbled.

“Your looks go way beyond mere pretty,” she told him as she rose to her feet and kissed the top of his head. “I’ve got to grab a shower or I’ll be late.”

“How about if you text your dad and explain that we’re running behind? I’ll show you just how relaxing sharing a shower can be.”

Joe Mulcahy hadn’t raised any fools. Grace sent the text and shed his shirt on her way down the hall. Patrick’s shorts were by the bathroom door when she wrapped her legs around his waist and he stepped into the shower.

“Now,” he rasped, “you let my fingers work their magic and I can promise you an unparalleled relaxation experience.”

She nipped his bottom lip and kissed him deeply. “Did anyone ever tell you that you talk too much?”

His response was to turn on the hot water and let it rain down on them while he kissed her long, hard, and deep. When she was writhing against him, he pressed her back against the icy-cold tiles and tormented first one breast and then the other, moving back and forth, licking, nipping, and suckling her until she tensed beneath him and gave a low guttural cry as her release tore through her.

Weak as water, he let her legs slip down until he could brace her with one hand and lather her body with the other—every inch of her until she thought she’d go mad from the sensations zinging beneath her skin and singing from wherever his clever hands and magic mouth touched.

Grace felt like a warm, wet noodle. Her body might be limp, but her brain had started functioning again. “What about relaxing you?”

“Baby,” he growled, “I get off watching you come.” He kissed her, adding, “My turn comes later tonight.”

He turned off the water and stood her in the middle of the bath mat, toweling her dry with infinite care and a tenderness that had her throat constricting and tears welling up in her eyes.

When he looked up, the expression in his eyes instantly changed from sensual to concerned. “What’s wrong?”

She shook her head, unable to put what she felt into words. But she could still show him. Her hands linked around his neck, their bodies snug against one another. Heart-to-heart, face-to-face, she lifted her lips to meet his, pouring the love, tenderness, and caring he’d shown her into her kiss.

Without speaking, they watched one another slowly cover bits and pieces of skin that had been kissed and scrubbed and then kissed some more. Dressed, ready to face the outside world, they drove back to Apple Grove.

***

When Patrick dropped her off at the front door to the shop, she asked him if he had plans for his day off. He grinned. “I’ll be wrastling with two little rug rats while Dan keeps an eye on Deidre so Meg can finish Mr. Weatherbee’s plumbing repair.”

“That ought to keep you busy for most of the day.”

“I’ll be back at lunchtime.” He bent to brush her lips with his, marveling at the way the woman had come apart in his arms in his shower. There were so many different ways to make love to a woman and so many different places to explore. He looked forward to each and every one.

She was smiling as he waved and drove down Main Street, turning right onto Elm. A glance at her watch told her she’d better hustle if she was going to accomplish what she’d planned for the day. She was already an hour behind.

Humming to herself, she powered up the computer and listened to the messages on the answering machine. Only a handful of calls—things were going so smoothly since hiring Charlie and Tommy for the summer.

“Maybe they’ll find jobs locally and can help us out in a pinch.” As soon as she said that, she could have smacked herself in the head. “Now I sound like everyone who wished I’d done the same.”

Setting unproductive thoughts aside, she finished deleting the last of the corrupted files, password protecting the templates she’d uploaded. “At least they’ll have the templates. I can’t do anything about somebody deleting the working files.”

Adding the revised templates and files to her memory stick—and her backup memory stick—Grace was surprised when Patrick walked into the office. “Is it lunchtime already?”

“Time flies.” He was grinning when he lifted her out of her chair, swung her around, and planted his lips on hers. “Did you talk to your dad today?”

“Not yet, but I will. I don’t think I can go back to my routine in Columbus.” She kissed him deeply. “I’ve seen the light and am wondering when we can spend another day naked.”

He laughed and hugged her tight. “God, I love you, Grace Mulcahy.”

Tears filled her eyes as emotion overwhelmed her. “I’m glad.”

He chuckled. “Not the response I was hoping for.” He kissed her playfully and urged, “Try again.”

She laughed with him. “I love you so much it scares me.”

“Good to know I’m not the only one who feels that way.”

“I didn’t think anything in the world scared you,” she said.

“Right now, there are two things that do,” he told her, “how much I love you and the thought of losing you.”

She smiled. “Then you don’t have anything to worry about.”

He linked arms with her. “Come on.”

She started walking toward the diner when he tugged on her hand. “This way.” He led her across the street and down toward the gazebo.

“I thought we were going to have lunch.”

“We are.”

Instead of stopping at one of the park benches beneath the shade trees, he kept going until they’d crossed the green and were walking down Purity Road. Blackbirds were singing, and in the distance, she heard a hawk.

“So where are we going?”

He drew in a deep breath and answered her question with a question, “Does the air always smell this fresh out here?”

She giggled. “Here, yes. Out by the Parrish and McCormack farms? Not always.”

He’d caught on to what she’d been hinting at. “They have cows and chickens?”

“Yes, and a horse or two.”

“Ah. Sweet country air.”

They were both enjoying the day and one another’s company. “Over here,” he said, pulling her toward the elementary school and the shade of the oak trees lining the playground.

“Oh!” Hand to her heart, Grace looked down at the plaid blanket spread out under the tree with a picnic basket sitting in the middle of it. “A picnic?”

“I know you like being outside and, hey,” he said, “on a day like today, it’s a shame to have to be inside.”

They lowered themselves to the blanket and Grace couldn’t contain her curiosity any longer. “Where did you get the basket?”

“Mary.”

“Who made lunch?”

“Everybody.”

She opened the lid and exclaimed. “Salads, sandwiches, pickles, and dessert?”

He took out the thermos and poured two cups of iced coffee. “Mary contributed the macaroni and potato salads. Kate made the sandwiches—she swore your favorite was liverwurst and onions, but I didn’t believe her, so I asked for ham and cheese on rye and peanut butter and jelly just in case.”

“I love liverwurst,” she laughed when he made a face at her. “But I’ll pick off the onions.”

He looked sheepish when he admitted, “I asked her to leave those off. I figured since I wasn’t eating them and planned to kiss you until your eyes crossed, then you couldn’t have any either.”

“Oh really?” She liked the thought of him kissing her until she couldn’t see straight. “Hey, these look like Mrs. Winter’s bread and butter pickles.”

He nodded. “She said you were partial to them.”

“And the pie?”

“Peggy made an extra buttermilk pie just because I asked her nicely and remembered to use the magic word.”

Grace’s heart nearly burst with pleasure at the trouble he’d gone to for her.

Before she could thank him, he leaned close and brushed a featherlight kiss across her lips. “Now unless you plan to just sit here and neck with me, you’d better stop tempting me, woman, and eat your lunch.”

While they ate, they chatted about Dan and Meg’s boys and baby Deidre, Cait’s battle to keep food down. Then they talked about the amazing job Charlie and Tommy were doing for Mulcahys. But there was one subject Patrick hadn’t talked about—but she could live with that for now. She’d given her word. He did talk about his current job, but only gave her brief highlights about the last few shifts he’d worked, leaving her to wonder about the details.

“Is it just me, or do you prefer to talk about anything but what you do for a living?”

He looked at her and shrugged. “Some of what I do bothers most people. Not everyone wants to hear the gory details of extracting people from twisted wrecks or burning buildings.”

She waved a hand over what was left of the bounty before her. “So this wasn’t your idea?”

“It was my idea.”

He wasn’t quite following where she wanted their conversation to go. “Then you did it because you wanted to have a picnic?”

He shook his head. “I wanted to do something special for you, Grace. You spend a lot of time worrying about other people.”

She looked into his eyes. “Thank you. At first I was worried that your interest wouldn’t last.”

He frowned. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

She started to put the containers away. “You know…a summertime fling?”

He shot to his feet and started to pace back and forth in front of their blanket. “You really think that’s how I feel?”

When she reached for another container, he hauled her to her feet and held her by her arms. “Is it?”

“Not after I got to know you better, but you’re holding back. I know we agreed not to talk about New York, but I want to hear about your job. I want to be there for you through the highs and lows and ups and downs. I may not have grown up in a family of firefighters, but I know a few—and have grown up in a small town where accidents happen and people are hurt.”

She was vibrating with anguish as the past became the present. “I’ve seen my fair share and held on to my sisters when our father was pacing back in front of the door to the ER, hanging on to the hope that the drunk driver that crashed into our mom head-on hadn’t cut her life short.”