Where Their Hearts Collide: Wardham Book #2 (24 page)

“Wow.” Karen finally found her voice. “Look at what comes out when we ban the men and add a bit of tequila.”

The short walk home from Mari’s apartment above Danny’s took a bit longer when tipsy, but between wondering what was going on with
Evie, who had been distracted all night before dropping the mega bomb of sharing, and thinking about Carrie’s typically acerbic analysis of her family relations, she was at her driveway before she knew it, and had to double back a few feet. Before she made it to her porch, Paul’s front light switched on.

Even better.
His bed was bigger. His cock was yummier. She snorted and smacked her hand over her mouth.
Keep it together, his daughter is in there, too.

His front door swung open, and pure bliss coursed through her veins as she took in the glorious sight of her
favourite half-naked man, wearing nothing but a pair of sweatpants that sat low on his lean hips.

Paul raised his eyebrows, silently repeating the same question she’d just asked herself, when she leaned happily against his door frame and waved her hands up and down in front of his bare torso. “This is very nice, sir.”

He grunted, and tugged her inside. “I could get used to hearing you call me that.”

“Yes, sir!”
She jerked to attention, but nearly toppled in the opposite direction as she over-compensated for the movement.

“Come on,
darlin’, let’s get you to bed.”

“Naked bed?”

“Sleeping bed.”

“You can take advantage of me, sir, I don’t mind.”

“I do.”

“Hey!” They were halfway up the stairs, but she didn’t care
. Megan was probably sleeping, so she kept her voice low, but a protest could still be made. She twisted, taking care to hang on to the bannister because doing a header back down the stairs would be a terrible idea, and plunked her butt down on the soft carpet running up the center of the staircase. That was when she noticed she was still wearing her shoes. Flipping them one at a time down the stairs bought her a bit of time to think ever so carefully about what she wanted to say next. The wine might have muddled her head a bit, but logic was on her side for this point. “I stumble home, you flip on your light, I don’t need to ask what that means. We might not have had our first official date yet, but I think we’re past the point of you needing to worry if I’m sober or not.”

He tucked in behind her and squeezed her neck before working to release her hair from its ponytail. He sucked in a breath,
then held it, as if he stopped himself from saying something. After a minute, he started again, and this time kept going. “You’re probably right. It’s a thing for me.”

“A big deal thing or a little deal thing?”
Unexpected worry started to nibble at her gut. Was this part of why he thought he wasn’t a good guy? Crappity crap. She should be sober for that conversation.

“Just a little deal thing,
I promise.”

“
I don’t get it.” Confusion warred with desire—for him, not just in this moment, but for always. Whatever issues he’d had in the past, did they really matter? He’d proven over and over again that the Paul of here and now was good and decent. And hot. “You really don’t want to sleep with me tonight?”

“Sleep, yes. Want to do more, yes. But it’s…” He growled quietly as he leaned forward and kissed the top of her head. “Why won’
t you just let me tuck you in like a good girl?”

“Because I’ve learned it’s so much more fun to be bad.”

“Just what did you ladies talk about tonight?”

Karen giggled quietly to herself. Should she share?

His hand pulsed against her neck. “Maybe I should give you a sobriety test.”

“What do I get if I pass?”

“An orgasm or two.”

Hot
diggity. “Lead the way.”

“Karen, are you awake?”

Under the light summer weight blanket she must have yanked over her head to block out the morning sun, Karen froze. Sun. Morning. Crappity crap.

A quick head-to-toe check reassured her she was decently attired, so she slowly peeled back the covers
enough to show her face and offer a brave smile to Paul’s daughter, standing in the open bedroom doorway. “I sure am!”

“I brought you a cup of coffee.” Megan came in and set a steaming mug on the bedside table.
“Dad said we should let you sleep in, but I’m too excited about the hike.”

“Right.”
Karen glanced around the room, but Paul must have tidied at some point. No evidence of anything inappropriate, except for her in his bed. Wearing his t-shirt and what felt like a pair of his boxer shorts. Maybe she’d leave the covers on until Megan left the room.

“Are you okay?”

No. “Yep!”

“You look
kinda freaked out.”

She needed more prep for a conversation like this. “
Why don’t you head downstairs and I’ll be along in a jiffy, okay?”

Megan shrugged and headed for the stairs, shouting back over her shoulder, “Breakfast is almost ready!”

Downstairs, she found Paul watching over a skillet of pancakes and sausages, holding a matching mug to hers. She smoothed her sundress over her hips, grateful Megan hadn’t seen it the day before. She’d need to go home for a quick shower and more hiking appropriate clothes, but her stomach told her she should stay for breakfast, first.

“Hey.” He pulled her close, really
close, tucking his arm around her like this wasn’t a totally weird situation.

“We need to talk,” she said quietly, hoping that the lack of volume wouldn’t keep the urgency from getting through.

From his raised eyebrow response, that wasn’t a problem. “About what?”

“Megan waking me up?
All of a sudden you just being okay with all of this?”

“You’re freaking out.”

“Yes!” She pressed her free hand, the one not pinned tight to his side, to her chest and rubbed a tight circle there. “We’ve just got from zero to sixty in, like, five seconds.”

“Baby.”
Damn him and his calm voice that cut through her anxiety and made her feel all warm and melty. “What can I do to make this less weird?”

“I don’t know. Maybe I just need some time.”

“Hmmm. Time doesn’t really work for me, since we’ve already wasted a good deal, and don’t have much left before you head to Toronto.”

“
I know, but—” She squirmed against his side, taking advantage of him leaning forward to flip pancakes to move away, but his other hand reached out and snagged her wrist, pulling her back against him. “Stop that.”

“No.” He set the spatula down and crowded her against the counter, caging her in with his legs, set wide on either side of hers, and his arms
, which bracketed her body. Tan, corded arms, dusted with hair, good enough to eat…Damn. Now she was turned on and pissed off. And his daughter was somewhere in the house.

“Paul, you’re overwhelming me.”

He stilled for a moment, then kissed her, a gentle, restrained reminder of his love. His lips grazed hers, then pressed delicately first on one side of her mouth, then the other. “I’m sorry?”

That did it.
That quirky, not-sorry-at-all, cocky-as-all-hell, but also sweet-as-sugar non-apology cut through her panic and made her laugh. “You’re not! God, Paul, my head is spinning.”

“Low blood sugar.
We’ll eat some breakfast, then we can talk on the hike.”

“I think we need a bit more privacy…and shouldn’t we have talked about everything before Megan found me in your bed?”

He smirked at her. “I made sure you were decent. She knew you were here, I told her yesterday you’d be sleeping over.”

“But
I
didn’t know yesterday that I’d be sleeping over!”

“And yet you’re here. In my kitchen, about to eat my pancakes and turkey sausage, so…”

She mock-growled as he stepped away, gesturing widely with his hand as if to say it was her choice to stay or go.

She sat at the table.

He laughed.

She smiled, but waited until he turned back to the skillet.

Paul’s plan for privacy on the hike became obvious when they stopped at
Evie’s house on their way to the bluffs and picked up her kids. Connor and Max recognized Paul from a safety presentation he did at their school, and Evie, who looked uncharacteristically tired, repeatedly thanked them for extending the invitation to her boys.

After expertly organizing all three kids across the backseat, Max in his booster seat, and Megan in the middle, each of their backpacks stashed neatly at their feet, Paul merrily navigated to the conservation area parking lot, going over the Hiker’s Code on the way.

Karen was pretty sure he made it up on the spot, but he got immediate buy-in from the kids for always walking with a buddy, staying on the agreed upon marked trails, and doing frequent radio checks.
Radio checks?

As they piled out of the car and Paul distributed a small Cobra handset to each kid, then handed on
e to Karen and clipped his own to his belt, she got it.

The kids took off ahead of them, hollering something about snacks at the first check point. Paul shot her a grin, and she laughed.

“Okay, I get it. We’ll have all the privacy we need to talk.”

“You could add ‘sir’ to that admission,” he teased.

“Not a chance in hell. My inner submissive only comes out when I’m drunk.”

“I’ll keep that in mind for when I want to spank you.” He left her gaping at him as he circled the car to grab his own backpack, then laced his fingers into hers and tugged her toward the trail-head. “Come on, we’ve given them enough of a
headstart.”

Neither of them broke the comfortable silence until after the first water break with the kids. They were halfway to Paul’s mysterious destination, which Megan was apparently familiar with, because she scampered ahead with the boys. The trail climbed steadily, with regular wide plateaus that offered glimpses of the lake through the trees, and now that the opportunity had arrived, discussing the mess of the next year was the last thing Karen wanted.

So of course, Paul slowed his pace. “Okay, let’s talk.”

“And ruin our first date? Maybe later.”

“
It won't ruin anything.”

“
You're sure of yourself.”

Ahead of her, he stopped. His technical t-shirt, stretched tight across his broad shoulders, was dotted with sweat, and when he pulled off his pack and set it against a log, she could see a line straight down to his narrow hips.

On her, the sweaty t-shirt look was probably a mess. On him, it smacked of virility and health.

He turned to face her, and set his hands on his hips. He
paused a beat, as if carefully considering what to say. “I'm sure of us.”

“
Wow.”

“
Is that a good wow?”

“
Maybe. Yes.” She stared up the trail. When he said it like that, it all seemed so simple. When she looked at him, radiating confidence, she couldn’t remember why it wasn’t. “Why aren't you scared?”

He shook his head slightly. “
I'm scared.”

“
Not about us.”

“
Not anymore.”

“
What are you scared about now?”

“A whole bunch of stuff that isn’t first date conversation material.”
He grinned, this time more rueful than confident. “I’m scared I’m pushing you too hard. That we're not going to get past the first date. That my spanking joke turned you off. That you’ll get a job on the other side of the province.”

“I’m coming back.”

“You better. It’ll be embarrassing if I show up somewhere and drag you off, caveman-style.”

She moved closer, wanting to touch him. She drifted her hands across his chest, feeling his nipples bead under his shirt. Licking her lips, she lowered her voice.
“The spanking thing…that was just a joke?”

His eyes dilated. “That’s up to you.”

An image of them wrestling popped into her head. It would start playfully, but progress to pinning each other to the bed, grinding and teasing, and then all of a sudden he’d flip her onto his lap. He’d start with a few swats on top of her shorts, but she’d respond, and at her first moan, he’d wrench her shorts down and smooth his hand over her bare bottom.

H
eat flooded her core and her cheeks at the same time. Holy hell, she wasn’t ready to ask him to spank her. Instead, she laced her arms around his neck and kissed him until he couldn’t help but be clear on how she felt about that prospect.

“Okay, glad we cleared that up.” He chuckled quietly against her cheek, smoothing his hand up and down her back. “What are you scared of?”