Barefoot at Moonrise (Barefoot Bay Timeless Book 2) (20 page)

His gaze dropped to her cup. “No chance that’s coffee?”

“No caffeine for cupcake.” She smiled. “I found some lemon herb tea.”

Which probably expired three years ago, but he decided not to freak her out. He took a sip anyway, regarding her over the rim. “What do you think you’re going to do?” he asked.

“I honestly don’t know. If my dad were completely out of the picture, one hundred percent retired, could you handle the mother of your child being the head of a company you blame for your father’s death?”

He studied her, first taking a moment to appreciate the straightforward question, then realizing that in some ways he was being stubborn and stupid. But he couldn’t change how he felt about Ray and the company that bore his name.

“I don’t know if I could handle it…well,” he finally said.

“But you could handle it.”

“I suppose I’d have to and, to be fair, I don’t have a right to tell you where you can work or what you can do for a living. If that were the case, you could tell me to stop being a firefighter because I risk my life every day.”

She nodded, as if she’d thought of that, but hadn’t said it. His temples throbbed, and every inch of him wanted rest and peace and…her.

“Beth,” he said softly. “Trust me when I tell you I had a really shitty shift and don’t want to fight about this or even talk about it.”

She angled her head, an expression of concern. “What happened?”

He gave a negative head shake. “How’d you sleep?”

“You know, new place. I missed…” She reached down and scratched Sally’s head. “The dog.”

He nudged her knee with his, the little bit of body contact already warming his blood. “I missed you, too. A hell of a lot.”

She leaned forward and surprised him by touching his knee. “Whatever it was, it was rough on you.”

The words, the touch, the sympathy, and wholly unexpected understanding ripped right through him. This was what a man who did what he did needed. This woman, this tenderness.

“Tell me.” She leaned back and lifted her bare feet to settle them on his thighs.

He closed his hand over her ankle and stroked her foot. “I don’t want to…talk.” No, he wanted to touch more. All. Everything. That’s what he needed now, not conversation about darkness and death. “I have a better idea. Let’s go into the house.”

“I like it out here. It might be my new favorite place in the world.”

“I have a better new favorite place for you.” He slipped to the ground to kneel in front of her. “My bedroom.”

She exhaled a soft laugh. “Blunt. You are so damn blunt.”

“All right, I’ll be subtle. Hey, Beth, why don’t you come back to the house, because I’m going to take a shower? Which means I’ll be naked. You can join me, and who knows what might happen?”

“That’s subtle?”

“Okay, okay.” He cleared his throat and leaned closer, letting his finger inch up her calf again, rounding her knee to tickle behind it. “Beth, it’s been a tough twenty-four. I could use a…back rub. And a front rub.”

“Better, but still not, you know,
seduction
.”

“That’s what you want? To be seduced?” He pulled her into him, spreading her legs, worming his way closer to her.

Her chest rose and fell as he slid his hands into her hair, then dragged his fingers over her throat, down her breastbone, and to her chest. He thumbed one nipple, the curve against his hand larger than the last time he’d caressed her, reminding him that she was pregnant.

She took a shuddering breath and lifted a little to offer him more of her body.

He leaned in close and let his lips brush hers. “I can’t think about anything but you, Beth,” he whispered into her mouth. “I want to be inside you again. I want to feel you come in my hands. I want to put my mouth on every inch of your body. I
need
you.”

He kissed her and let their tongues touch, her nipple budding hard in his palm.

“Come to bed with me, baby.” He kissed her harder, drawing her lower lip with his teeth before he broke the contact and looked into her eyes. “Bring me back from hell, Beth. And I promise you a little bit of heaven.”

Very slowly, she pushed him back, her pupils dilated and dark now, telling him he was definitely having an effect. “Now
that
was a seduction.”

He stood, letting his hands slide over every inch of her again, then tunnel into her hair as he tilted her face up to his. “If you want me, I’ll be in the shower.”

He left her on the dock, one hundred percent sure she’d follow. But this was Beth, and he had to let her make that decision herself.

Chapter Fifteen

If you want me.
That was sarcasm, right? Because right then, trembling and turned on, Beth didn’t think she’d ever wanted anything as much as she wanted Ken Cavanaugh.

She’d never seen him like that, she thought, closing her eyes to remember the bit of…desperation etched on his face and evident in his touch. Like he didn’t want to go another minute without sex.

Which was exactly the way she felt.

But was feeling that enough to justify it? This was no commitment-free hookup at a high school reunion. Everything was different now. She was carrying his child. They were connected in a way that terrified her, that felt permanent but still so risky.

If you want me.

Her nipples burned. Her lower half melted. And her hands ached to touch every muscle on his body.
Every
one. That probably counted as “wanting” him.

Still, she stayed glued to the chair, her eyes on the water and the rising sun that turned the sky gold. What was stopping her?

The obvious, of course. What if something happened in the next four weeks—or eight months? Where would that leave a couple—a couple who’d severed their ties twice already because of the clouds that hung over them—if they attempted to build an entire, shaky relationship on a child they both wanted?

Having sex again would really complicate things, wouldn’t it?

Or make her insanely happy, satisfied, and blissful. And him.

I need you.

That need had been stamped all over his face and made her ache with the desire to give him the comfort and escape he wanted.

So sex could be satisfying, blissful, comforting, and an escape. What the hell was she waiting for?

She pushed herself up to cross the dock and pad barefoot over the grass to the patio. With each step, her heart rate ratcheted up. The closer she got to the house, the more tense she became.

Inside, she could hear the shower running in the master bedroom, and that sound stole her breath and made her a tiny bit dizzy.

Could she do this?

She visualized the water sluicing over his hard body, wetting every muscle, falling onto the sweet curve of his backside and the mighty erection that no doubt hardened and grew in anticipation.

Could she
not
do this?

A few more steps toward the bedroom and she could practically smell the soap and feel his hands lathering her and taste lemon tea-flavored kisses as he toweled her off and took her to the bed.

And then she imagined the pain of it all if the worst happened.

He stepped out of the bathroom, stealing her breath as he looked exactly like she’d imagined. Naked, primal, ready, and soaked.

“You showered already.”

“You took a long time.”

Her gaze dropped over every inch of him, and fire licked up her body and down her back, lodging in her lower half, searing and softening everything.

“I can go back in if you want to shower with me.”

“I’m…scared, Ken.” The admission popped out without her thinking, because who could possibly think when faced with a semihard, naked god whose sizable chest rose and fell with his own strangled breaths?

But there it was—the truth. She was terrified.

He closed the space between them to wrap his arms around her. He pulled her into him, tight enough for her to feel his heart hammering in his chest and his erection like a ridge against her.

All she wanted to do was…
touch
.

“If it makes you feel any better, I’m scared, too,” he said into her ear.

She closed her eyes, her body so heavy with need she had to lean against him. He didn’t feel scared. He felt hard and ready and perfect. “A little better,” she said. “What are you scared of?”

He tipped her face up. “The fact that I haven’t even thought about another woman since the night we were together. I’ve wanted you and only you. I’d be lying if I didn’t tell you that scares the crap out of me sometimes.”

She searched his face, not answering, but always appreciating his candor.

“You’re so worried about me dumping you if something happened to the baby,” he said. “Well, guess what? I’m worried about you dumping me. It would
hurt
.”

She tried to breathe, but the thought that she had that kind of power over his feelings took her breath away. “Well, once we do this, with a baby involved, then—”

“The baby can’t get hurt.” He spoke with the authority of someone with medical training. “But if you’re worried—”

“No, not about that. My doctor said sex is fine.”

“Then what? Why is it different?”

“Because we’re connected now. There’s a child.”

A slow smile spread on his face, lighting his eyes. “I’m still trying to understand why that’s a bad thing.”

He just didn’t get it. “How can you be so optimistic?”

“In my line of work? If I weren’t, I’d kill myself.”

“Something could happen to the baby,” she said. “Not because we had sex, but because I’m still physically vulnerable.” And emotionally, but she didn’t add that.

“You think I’d disappear if something happened to this baby?” He stroked her back, pulling her closer, pressing kisses into her shoulder and neck.

“I…I don’t know. I can’t think when you do that,” she admitted, purring as he nestled deeper. “It’s so hard to say no to you.” Her hands moved over him, finding muscles and flesh and hard curves of masculinity on his shoulders and back.

“Then don’t.” He moved some of her hair away and kissed her ear.

She almost melted as his breath tickled her down to her toes.

He dragged his hands up and down her waist, lifting her tank top slowly, but she inched back, denying him the chance to get it off.

“Wait.” There was one more thing she needed to know. Absolutely had to know before she went one little bit further. “I have to ask you a question.”

Maybe it was the warning in her voice, but he looked wary already. “Okay.”

“Have you, um, possibly been in my house since I left it?”

He frowned as if the question made no sense. “No. Was I supposed to be? Did you want me to go over and check on it?”

“No, no. I just…wondered if you had.”

“Why?”

“I thought maybe someone had been there while I’ve been gone because something was different than the way I thought I’d left it, but I could be completely wrong. There is such a thing as pregnancy brain, you know.”

He drew back, concern in his eyes. “Could it have been the water remediation team? My guys when they helped with the flood?”

“No, I don’t think they went back there.” She shook her head. “Never mind.”

“Never mind nothing. If someone was in your house and you didn’t know about it, that’s a big deal.”

She quieted him with a touch. “Nothing was stolen, nothing was missing. There were some storage bins in my closet that I file papers in that seemed to be different, and the sliding door was open partway. It was—”

“What’s in the files? Bank statements? Passwords? Your passport? Are you sure nothing was missing?”

She shook her head. “Nothing was missing.”

“Why would you think I would have…” She saw the wheels turning and turning, then click into place as realization registered on his face. An ugly, unwanted realization. “The papers your dad gave you. The stuff about my father’s death. That’s in those files, isn’t it?”

She looked at him without answering. But she didn’t have to.

He breathed out a curse and backed away.

“That’s great, Beth,” he barked. “You really thought I’d break into your place to get my hands on that? To do what? Blackmail you? Seek damages? Get back at your dad?”

He marched across the room, snagging a pair of boxers from the floor but she caught up to him before he got far. “Ken, don’t—”

“I’m right, though, aren’t I?”

“Yes, and I was wrong to even think it. Obviously, I imagined the whole thing, I’m sure.”

“Then why did you ask me about it?”

“Because…I needed to know.”

He closed his eyes, a whirlwind of emotions playing out on his face. “I want this to work so bad,” he said, his voice gruff and trapped in his chest. “I thought that we’re smart and good enough to do it. But this thing, this memory, this
fact of life
is always going to be between us.”