Harlequin Superromance February 2014 - Bundle 1 of 2: His Forever Girl\Moonlight in Paris\Wife by Design (76 page)

Grant's lips seemed to devour hers. His tongue moved with hers as though they belonged together, as though they were
meant
to be together.

She clung to him. She hated the need that prompted her, but she gripped him hard anyway. Maybe even hurting him in her need to hang on.

Breathing wasn't easy, but it didn't seem necessary, either.

When she finally had a chance to gasp some air, her nose and lungs filled with the scent of gasoline, grass particles and machinery.

She kissed him again, her arms locked around his neck, wanting to hold him to her permanently.

The word permeated her fogged brain, and Lynn's hands fell away.

She backed up. “Wow. Um, I guess...”

“Yeah,” he said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “I guess.”

His eyes finished the sentence. And her entire body tingled.

Whatever doubts she'd harbored about their plan to have sex diminished. Wednesday was coming. And when it did, they'd be naked. He was going to be inside her.

How in the hell was she going to wait that long?

And how was it ever going to be enough?

She watched him gather supplies. And she needed so much more than sex. Though the distraction was incredibly welcome.

“I, uh, guess you told Darin he couldn't marry Maddie.”

“Nope.”

She straightened, folding her arms, and remembered Darin's request for a date. Grant hadn't been able to tell his big brother no then, either. “You didn't tell him yes, did you?”

Turning, one foot on the zero-gravity mower, he looked at her. “I tried to point out that he was not in any shape to marry. He had an answer for everything.”

“What answer could he possibly have for the fact that they can't even live alone?”

“Me.”

“You?”

“He expects me to do for the both of them exactly what I do for him. I'm already doing it. So it stands to reason that I could just expand my duties a bit and—”

“You can't do that.” He was practically killing himself as it was. Hell, he was a thirty-eight-year-old man who had to schedule an hour of sex more than a week in advance.

Grant's silence didn't tell it to her straight.

“Are you considering it?”

“I told him I would.”

“Are you?”

“At this point, I've done everything I can to avoid thinking about it.”

She didn't blame him. How did you give your whole life to raising your older brother, invest every part of yourself into maintaining and preserving his well-being, encouraging him to push himself and try everything he wanted to try to get the most out of life, and then tell him he couldn't have what he wanted most because he was handicapped.

She moved closer. He took her hand, resting it on his upraised thigh. All she wanted to do was pull him into her arms and promise him that they'd get through this together. That he wasn't alone and it would be okay.

“I was hoping I'd distract him,” Grant said, his voice low, dejected. “The diving lessons... I thought I was doing a good thing.”

“Clearly, he didn't.”

“All he cared about was that they were going to interfere with his only chance to spend time with Maddie. I thought he'd lost the ability to be single focused. Maybe it's just that after he lost Shelley, he didn't care enough anymore. And now, with Maddie...”

“Maybe we should rethink his therapy. I can make some phone calls. Try to get him moved. At least temporarily.And I could take away his cell phone, I guess.”

They stared at each other. Lynn was such a mixture of conflicting thoughts and emotions that she didn't even recognize herself.

“Are we being fair to them?” she asked.

“I feel like a selfish ass,” he blurted at almost the same time.

“I think we have to discourage any thoughts of marriage but allow the friendship for now.”

“He's living life again.” Grant's voice sounded different to her. Not controlled.

He sounded lost. “For the first time since the accident, I'm seeing parts of him I thought were gone forever.”

“Maddie's good for him.”

“It seems that way.”

Squeezing his hand, Lynn said, “We'll keep a close watch on them, Grant. I'll be right here beside you all the way. Doing my part.”

He nodded.

“We should do what we can not to make it too easy,” she continued. “Like, come up with excuses instead of allowing them to have dinner together so often.”

He didn't agree immediately.

But the idea was sound. Good. Even though she wasn't excited about it.

“Maybe...once a week?” he suggested.

“Okay.” Once a week she'd have Grant at her dinner table. One hour out of one hundred and sixty-eight. She could handle that.

He touched her nipple through her shirt. And then slid his hand up underneath her scrub top and touched it for real. As though he had every right to do so. He was looking her straight in the eye. Claiming his right to touch her intimately.

She closed her eyes and felt her knees go weak.

And with one more quick kiss because she couldn't help herself, she got the hell out of there.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

T
HEY
SCHEDULED
THEIR
once-a-week dinners for Friday nights. Lynn wanted a set time for her calendar—apparently it
was
Lynn who lived by lists—and, truth be told, so did he. His schedule was too tight to allow for all this spur-of-the-moment stuff.

He'd be much more relaxed if he could at least get his time back under control.

And have sex, of course. As soon as Wednesday arrived, he'd have a whole new world on his hands.

With the promise of Friday dinners, and Grant's agreement to consider the possibility of a wedding, Darin had agreed to the diving lessons. With Angelica's full support. The water activity was good exercise for Darin's arm.

His brother wasn't as coordinated in the water as he'd once been, but after just a couple of lessons, some of the skills were coming back to him.

All in all, Grant's life was pretty damn good. If he ignored the constant pain he carried around in his loins. Or the cricks he kept getting in his neck from constantly swiveling around whenever he was working at The Lemonade Stand. Looking for Lynn.

Always looking for the long-haired beauty who had a look in her eye no other woman had.

A tone to her voice that no one else had.

And as soon as he had a chance to sink his body into hers, to get relief, then life would be perfect.

He stood for an extra long time in the shower on Wednesday morning. Shaved under the hot water so that he got the smoothest skin he could possibly manage. Took time to blow-dry his hair. And grabbed the newest pair of black briefs he could find before pulling on jeans and a Bishop Landscaping shirt. There was only so much he could do. Wednesday was a workday—though he was CEO all the way today. He wasn't about to sweat.

And once he got to Lynn's house he wasn't planning on keeping the clothes on, anyway.

“Grant! What's taking so long?” Darin called out from the front room.

Technically, they didn't have to leave for another twenty minutes. But on a normal day he'd have been on the road already.

“Coming,” he called, opening his nightstand drawer to grab some condoms out of the box and shove them into his wallet before sliding it into the back pocket of his jeans. He snapped on his watch on the way down the hall.

“Phew, you stink!” Darin wrinkled up his nose. “What did you do?”

“It's just my normal aftershave.” He'd given it a few extra squirts so that it lasted throughout the day.

“No, it's not. It stinks.”

“Have you got your diving gear?” Darin was wearing his sweats and carrying his duffel bag. After Grant had sex, he had to take Darin swimming.

“Yes, and a change of clothes for working in the cafeteria, too.” As per usual, Darin would be spending the day at The Lemonade Stand while Grant met with clients and oversaw job sites.

Off they went. He'd be a different man when he returned that night. More peaceful. Satisfied. Not quite as hungry, and, if he had his way, with a steady Wednesday afternoon sex date on his calendar for as long as the foreseeable future.

* * *

L
YNN
WAS
AT
home eating lunch with Maddie and Kara, listening to chatter she wasn't hearing as she checked her mental list. As soon as Maddie left to take Kara to day care, Lynn would throw her sheets in the washer.

It wasn't laundry day, so she'd just do the one set. While they were in the wash she could dash to her office to finish the morning's charting and see one prenatal patient for a quick monthly check.

And grab some condoms from the free supply at the clinic.

Once she got back, she could throw the sheets in the dryer with an extra dryer sheet and take a hot bath.

The bath had to be rose-scented. She couldn't forget to shave her legs and pits. She was going to wear black leggings, leftover from her days as another man's wife, and a thigh-length short-sleeved sweater dress, and hadn't decided yet on whether or not to answer the door barefoot....

“Lynn?” Maddie was looking at her.

“Yeah?”

Kara banged her empty cup on the table. “I just asked you if I could get Kara another cup of milk.”

“Oh. Yes. I'm sorry,” she said, thankful for once that she spent so much of her time with folks who couldn't overanalyze her actions. She was gearing up to make some small talk, to make sure her loved ones didn't feel slighted by her lack of attention, when there was a knock on the door.

“Lynn?” Elaine, one of the daytime security guards, poked her head in the door. “Come quickly,” she said. “We've been trying to call you, but you didn't pick up.”

Jumping up from the table, Lynn reached into the pocket of her scrubs for her phone. It wasn't there. A first. She'd left it someplace.

Because her mind wasn't on her responsibilities.

“It's Missy,” Elaine was saying as she grabbed Lynn's emergency bag from beside the door and headed out. “She's gone into labor.”

Missy, the young woman who'd been spotting a few weeks before. At thirty weeks they could safely deliver. But because of the earlier spotting, the risk of complications was a little higher.

“Maddie...”

“I know, Lynn. I'll watch Kara and take her to class and feed her dinner and give her her bath and I'll call Lila to find someone to spend the night with Kara if you're not back by bedtime.”

“Thank you,” she said, and with a quick kiss on her daughter's messy cheek, she hurried after Elaine, taking Kara's “See you soon I love you” out the door with her.

* * *

G
RANT
WAS
STANDING
in the middle of an acre of dirt behind a half-million-dollar home, helping the new owner envision the naturally landscaped swimming pool and outdoor living area that were represented by the detailed drawings in the portfolio he'd just presented to them.

The expensively coiffed, redheaded wife wanted to know about adding the built-in kiva fireplace cook station he'd recommended the first time he'd met with them.

“Absolutely,” he told her cheerfully, mentally calculating how long it would take to revise the quote, and where, in the next forty-eight hours, he could find that time.

His phone vibrated....

“Excuse me,” he said, only long enough to glance at the LED screen. Darin came first. Always.

It wasn't Darin. And Grant itched to take the call. Lynn. Probably confirming their date that afternoon. He could hear her voice. And imagine the innuendo with which she'd coat her words...

But he had work to do.

So he spent the next half hour fighting off images of Lynn's long hair splayed across her naked breasts as he closed one of the more lucrative single-home deals of his career.

* * *

S
HE
'
D
CALLED
TO
CANCEL
.

To say Grant was disappointed would be an understatement. But he understood, too. A baby's imminent birth was a far more pressing concern than Grant's overstimulated sex drive.

As was the new resident who'd needed a physical upon arrival the following Wednesday afternoon. And Lynn's meeting with an attorney to give her deposition regarding the state of a woman's physical condition the Wednesday after that.

Pretty much the only good thing, where Grant's sex drive was concerned, was that he and Lynn were talking on the phone late into the night a lot. Commiserating about their painful states and feeding each other promises of what would be when they finally did get into the same bed at the same time.

It helped, too, that anytime he had something on his mind, she was there to bounce ideas back and forth with. Whether it was something Darin had said, a design he was working on or something going on with his employees, Lynn wanted to know about it.

Darin's diving lessons went well enough that he and Grant had put on tanks and gone down alone a couple of times. And their Friday-night dinners were equally satisfying, if one didn't count the fact that Lynn had missed two out of three of them.

What was it with springtime and men getting violent? Or dinnertime and women reaching out for help?

Lynn had time off. Just not enough of it when Grant happened to be around to spend it with her.

The third Saturday in March, after Lynn had missed Friday night's dinner, he'd suggested another double date, just so he could get her alone long enough to feel her up. The few moments they'd been managing to steal in the landscaping garage just weren't cutting it.

Brandon was bringing Kara back at bedtime, and had agreed to put his daughter to bed and read to her, and Amy, Lynn's overnight babysitter, had agreed to take over from there so Kara's father could catch his flight back to San Francisco.

The date went well. He couldn't remember when he'd ever laughed so much or seen Darin laugh so much. But it was raining, too, which precluded the time alone on the beach he'd hoped to have.

If he didn't know better he'd think the fates were conspiring to keep his penis hard and his nerves frayed.

And so, the following Monday, the last Monday in March, he made a point of getting to The Lemonade Stand in the early afternoon. He was going to call Lynn and see if they could find a few minutes that afternoon to be alone. They didn't even have to touch. He just needed to see that special look in her eyes. The one that said she needed him to have his wicked way with her.

He'd hoped to be there in time to have lunch with his brother, too, but didn't make it until it was time for Darin to start therapy. Because he hadn't been sure he'd be able to get away, he hadn't told anyone his plans and figured he'd head over to Lynn's place to see if anyone was home.

He'd barely parked and locked the truck when his cell phone vibrated against his hip bone.

Hoping it was Luke or Craig needing him, something easy he could handle in seconds, he glanced at the screen, recognizing the number as an exchange from The Lemonade Stand, but not one he knew.

“Grant? This is Angelica, Darin's physical therapist,” the person on the end of the line said in a voice that was either confused or distressed. Or both.

His heart started to pound. “Has something happened to Darin?” Thank God he'd come early. Thank God he was there.

Immediately switching the direction he was walking from Lynn's bungalow toward the main building, Grant heard the therapist say, “I don't know, that's why I'm calling you. He didn't show up for his session. I thought you'd know where he was and just forgot to let me know he wouldn't be here.”

Maddie.

The thought was instantaneous. And sure.

“I called Carmelita at the cafeteria, in case he'd been held over there. She said he was there during his shift and that she saw him sitting at a table alone and eating afterward.”

Darin had last been seen forty-five minutes ago. That was more than enough time for two people to have sex.

“Has anyone tried to get hold of Maddie?”

“Yes, sir. She walks with him to therapy sometimes so I called her first. Her parents stopped in for a visit today after lunch and took her out shopping to get some things for her room.”

Maddie was with her parents.

And Darin was missing.

Growing cold, then hot, Grant continued to stride toward the main building, picking up his pace a bit. He glanced around at the same time, eyes peeled for the black sweatsuit with white stripes that his brother had been wearing when they'd left the house that day.

“How did things go this morning?” he asked, turning a circle in the grass as he tried to take in the entire area at once.

Maybe Darin had gotten discouraged. Was hiding out in the trees, cutting therapy like an unhappy kid would cut class.

“We had a great session. He got his arm three-quarters of the way up in the air with no assistance at all.”

Any other day that would have been worth a toast. A night of them. At the moment he hardly cared.

“I'll call him,” Grant said, ringing off abruptly to immediately push Darin's speed dial number. His brother always picked up. It was a rule.

The seconds it took to connect were interminable. He half ran toward the Garden of Renewal. It seemed like a place a kid would choose to hide out if he didn't want to be found.

Darin's phone went straight to voice mail.

Grant dialed Lila. Within a minute, she was sending security out to scour the property. All bungalows would be checked. As would the public buildings that were part of The Lemonade Stand complex. They'd check security cameras, as well. One good thing about having his brother at a women's shelter was that they were prepared for emergencies.

By the time Grant hung up he was running. And didn't quit running until he reached the Garden of Renewal.

“Have you seen a man around here?” He interrupted what had obviously been a very serious conversation between two women he didn't recognize. “He's tall. Probably had on a sweatsuit?”

“Are you looking for Darin?” one of the women, a redhead, asked.

“Yes. You know him?”

“We all do,” the woman said. “He works at the cafeteria at lunchtime. He's really sweet. And kind.”

“He's my brother.”

“We know,” the plump blonde answered this time.

“You do the landscaping. Darin told us.” The redhead again.

He didn't have time for chitchat. “Have you seen him?”

“Yeah,” the blonde said. She turned and Grant saw the faded bruising on the left side of the woman's face, continuing back to her ear. A bright pink jagged scar ran from her ear down her neck and into the neckline of her shirt. “At lunch.”

Grant tried to focus on her eyes. They seemed to dare him to blanch.