No Sunshine When She's Gone (20 page)

She knew where to find him. He was right where she’d left him. She hesitantly entered the dugout and sat down on the opposite end of the bench. She leaned forward, rested her elbows on her knees. “James was pleased with today’s outcome,” she said with a sigh, sounding relieved.

“You did a great job.” He gave her that.

“The crowd was larger than we expected.”

“No one got too rowdy or out of hand.”

“No one but Psycho,” she said. “I’m sorry he got in your face.”

“He was worried about you.” Aidan understood a brother’s concern for his sister. He would protect Shaye with his life.

Jill rubbed her hands down her blue-jeaned thighs. “My white lies always catch up with me. I need to make amends. Where do we go from here?” she asked him. “Or do we call it quits?”

“I’m not a quitter,” he said. “But you need to keep it real. Full disclosure from now on.”

“I’ll do my best.”

“Come sit by me,” he said.

He didn’t have to ask her twice. She slid down the bench. She sat so close, their shoulders, hips, and thighs brushed. He liked the feel of her. He covered her hand with his own. He was confident they could work this out.

“Tell me about Jillian McMillan,” he said.

She stared out across the ball field, and was slow to say, “My childhood memories aren’t pretty. My father deserted my family when I was three; I have no memory of the man. My mother never spoke of him. She worked two jobs and was seldom home. Being the oldest, Psycho raised us kids. I have brothers and sisters, too.”

She paused. “We were poor. Food was scarce. Have you ever made tomato soup with a ketchup packet and hot water? Split a candy bar five ways?”

He shook his head.

“I have, and I’ve known hunger.” She bit down on her bottom lip. “I’m aware of Cody’s faults. There isn’t a rule he hasn’t broken. He’s fought for everything he has. He’s fiercely loyal to those he loves. He’s an amazing dad. He even built his daughter a playhouse. The man can throw a tea party. No guy looks better in a pillbox hat, a pink boa, and a strand of pearls.”

She crossed her ankles, squared her shoulders. “He has always been my champion. I’ve worked dozens of jobs, but never had a career. Not until he told me about the community liaison position with the Rogues. My brother casts a big shadow. I applied as Jillian Mac, wanting to be hired on my own qualifications, not because I was his sister. He never interfered. Few people outside the Rogues Organization know we’re related. I came on board and was able to interview an assistant. I chose Carrie.”

Aidan understood. Nepotism caused jealousy. Jill hadn’t wanted preferential treatment. She earned her own way. He liked that about her.

“On a personal note,” she wrapped up, “I’m thirty-three years old. I like sports and being outdoors. I’m opinionated and pushy on occasion. I don’t give my friendship freely. Should I like someone, I like him for life. I’m not an Indian giver. Permanence isn’t easy for me. I always have an escape route.”

She nudged him with her elbow. “It’s your turn.”

He gave her the short version. “My great-great-great-grandfather founded Barefoot William. I grew up here. I have an extended family that stretches the entire coastline. I seek balance in my life. I don’t like chaos. From an early age, I wanted to build. Legos and wooden blocks were my favorite toys. I constructed a two-story tree fort when I was twelve. The fort had running water.”

“I like a man who works with his hands,” she complimented him.

“Your heart is in the right place most days.”

“I like Sadie,” she added.

“She likes you, too.”

“Then there’s Agnes.”

“You are her new best friend after today,” he said. “Opportunities for new challenges are far and few between as a person gets older. You gave her a chance to feel young again.”

“She made the final out.”

“There was a photographer taking pictures on the sidelines,” he recalled. “Agnes may make the front page of the newspaper.”

Jill went quiet on him then. He left her to her thoughts, for the moment anyway. Until she was able to say, “Guess I should call it a day.”

“Spend the night with me.”

She brushed dust off her forearm. “I’m in need of a shower and change of clothes.”

Easy fix. “Follow me home in your car. You can clean up there. I have a T-shirt you can borrow.”

Her lips twitched. “Only a shirt?”

“Unless you’d rather be naked.”

She closed her eyes, sighed. “This could be a very good evening.”

Aidan would make sure it was.

Barefoot William was bursting at the seams. Rogues fans and vacationers packed the streets, so he took to the back roads. He had built his house away from the beach, away from the tourist trade and in-town traffic. He liked his privacy. His retreat sat on twenty acres.

“It’s not your typical Florida home,” he said to Jill when she parked her car next to his in the brick courtyard. Dusk crept in, and automatic spotlights kicked on. A Japanese boxwood hedge bordered the walkway. White and purple bougainvillea and red firecracker plants provided color at the front entrance.

Jill climbed from her Triumph and came to stand beside him. Her eyes were wide; her mouth parted. “Another house that Aidan built,” she softly said.

He took her by the hand and led her to the double-wide entry door. “The outside’s finished, but the inside still needs work,” he told her.

He watched her closely when they entered. He wanted to see her initial reaction. Her breath caught in her throat; her hand covered her heart. “Your place is incredible.” Her approval meant a lot to him.

“Look around,” he offered. He now saw his home through her eyes. The octagonal structure was made of cedar and glass. Each room faced a circular sunken living room. He could stand in the middle and take in the entire view. Sliding pocket doors allowed privacy when necessary.

He had minimal furniture, adding pieces as they caught his eye. His crescent-shaped couch faced a big-screen television. His computer sat on a rolltop desk. He kept an antique pharmacy apothecary cabinet for his personal papers. Brazilian cherry hardwood added richness to the floors.

“Sadie?” he called out, checking on his dog. She didn’t always hear him come in.

Sleepy-eyed, with her tail wagging, the pointer came from the direction of the kitchen. She liked to sleep by her food bowls. They were always filled. She stretched out on her heated orthopedic bed, placed in front of the kibble bin.

“Sweet girl.” Jill went down on one knee and greeted Sadie. “She seems glad to see me.”

“We’re not used to having company,” he said.

“No visitors?” She seemed surprised. “You have lots of relatives.” She eyed him with interest. “No dates?”

“I wanted to finish my house before I opened the doors to friends and family,” he said. “This has become an ongoing project. I’m out of town ten months out of the year. I have a caretaker. The house will get finished, eventually.” He shifted his stance, added, “No female has slept here.” It was important that she knew that.

Her throat worked, and she buried her face in the soft fur at Sadie’s neck. Her sigh of relief touched his heart.

She looked back at him in her own time. “Your home could use a woman’s touch,” she said lightly. “It’s very masculine with its sharp angles and rough wood. A little softness might be nice, too.”

“Your suggestions are welcome,” he said.

“I’m not an interior decorator.”

“Neither am I. I buy what I like.”

“Basic fabrics are good with pops of color.”

He could live with that.

“I love overstuffed rocking chairs.”

“So do I.” His grandmother had one.

“Comfy loveseats for two,” she added.

“Good to know.” He didn’t mind cuddling.

“I’m crazy for those leather club chairs that seem to hug you when you sit down.”

He kept a mental list.

“Hand-painted curtains,” she continued. “I love dressers that become sideboard tables.”

Those were all interesting ideas.

“Round, oversize ottomans where a dozen people can rest their feet and—” She laughed at herself. “Sorry, I got carried away.”

He hadn’t minded in the least. “Fun thoughts,” he said.

“They came from catalogues,” she admitted. “I didn’t have a lot of toys growing up, so I’d cut out pictures and design my future home. That was as close to a dollhouse as I ever got.”

The puzzle pieces that were Jillian Mac were slowly fitting together. Communication was important to him.

She gave Sadie a final pat, then got to her feet. Sadie came to him then; nudged him with her nose. She wanted his attention, too. Aidan rubbed her shoulders. Satisfied, Sadie ambled back to the kitchen.

“You can check out my appliances later. Let’s shower now,” he suggested. It was time to own up. “I’ve wanted you since that first day in Three Shirts.”

“In the dressing room?” She was surprised.

“Small and tight.”

“Your reputation preceded you. You’d already been there with another woman.”

Aidan rubbed the back of his neck, clarified, “My date was trying on swimsuits. She’d stripped all the way down, instead of leaving on her underwear. Her piano-wire bracelets got caught on a shoulder strap as she was slipping off a one-piece. She called for help. I entered the changing room, and she was all over me.”

“You couldn’t fight her off?”

“She was a bodybuilder,” he remembered. He’d met Ava Anderson at Parks and Recreation, during the summer activities fair. Barefoot William liked to keep its kids off the streets. The facility had offered everything from craft projects to a variety of sports. Ava had been in town for a month, a guest lecturer on good health.

She’d come on to him, asking him out. He’d agreed to a casual afternoon on the boardwalk. In a shirt and slacks, she’d looked fit and feminine. Naked, she was as ripped as any man. Her muscles had muscles.

“The woman was strong,” he told Jill. “I couldn’t get her off me. We were noisy, and customers complained. Jenna walked in and my date flexed.” It had been embarrassing on so many levels.

“Would you have had sex, had you not been caught?”

He shook his head. “I would never disrespect my cousin; I wasn’t even into the woman. Finding you and me together a few weeks ago set Jen off again.”

“I wasn’t naked.”

“My cousin wasn’t aware of our circumstances.”

One corner of her mouth tipped. “You did barge in.”

“I would’ve taken the changing rooms apart to find you.”

“You were on a mission.”

“There was something about you,” he confessed.

“Something beyond your lies. Something I couldn’t define.”

“Can you define it now?” She wanted to know.

“Not completely,” he replied honestly.

“When you wrap your head around it, let me know.” She drew in a breath. “What do we do now?”

“I’m going to do you.”

A
idan took her by the hand and they crossed the room together. They entered the bath, and he slid the black lacquered pocket doors closed behind them. Inside, full-length mirrors caught them from every angle. He dimmed the lighting, which left them in a pale glow. Jill ran her hand over the brown marble vanity, then wiggled her fingers under the automatic water faucet. A gentle spray moistened her palm.

“Very modern,” she appreciated. “I like the two sinks.”

Aidan did, too. Couples shouldn’t have to fight over space in the morning, especially when washing their faces or brushing their teeth. The double basins solved that problem. The large rectangular shower with benches, along with the sunken tub, could also accommodate two people.

He came up behind Jill and eased her back against him. Her desire met his arousal and the air crackled with sexual intent. They stared at each other in the mirror. She shivered ever so slightly. “Feel me,” he whispered as her back molded to his front. “I want you.”

Her shoulder blades pressed into his chest as tightly as her bottom snugged his groin. He surrounded her with his strength; his sex strained against the fly of his khaki shorts.

He brushed her hair off her neck with inordinate care. Then breathed near her ear. He felt her heartbeat quicken when he placed an openmouthed kiss just beneath, then lightly blew on the spot. A hot shudder flashed through her body. He liked turning her on.

Moving down her neck to her collarbone, he kissed and nuzzled, kissed and nipped; his seven o’clock shadow abraded her sensitive skin. Her chest rose and fell beneath the cotton of her Rogues jersey.

Pushing the neck of her shirt off her shoulder, he explored the curve with his lips and tongue. “More skin.” His voice was deep and dark with wanting her.

He took his time, so what should’ve taken seconds rolled into minutes. They had all night. He slid his hands down her sides to the hem, then eased the shirt up and over her head. All along the way, he teased her belly, her ribs, her breasts, leaving her breathless.

He tossed her jersey aside. Then drew her sports bra off next. Her freed breasts rose, catching the dim light. The soft undersides were in shadow. Her reflection left him so hard, his entire body tightened.

She dropped her head back against his chest and closed her eyes. His hands fanned the fullness of her breasts. Her nipples puckered. He traced down her ribs to the smooth, taut hollow of her stomach.

Slow hands. Slow burn. He made her hot for him.

Timelessness. His foreplay had no end.

She inhaled long and deeply when he fingered the silver snap on her jeans. Her breathing sharpened as he unsnapped them, scraped down the zipper. The sound was loud in the stillness of the room.

When he slid his hand beneath the elastic of her panties, stretching his fingers toward her sex, Jill went weak in the knees. The full weight of her body rested against him now. Sweet curves and warm woman.

Anticipation played where their bodies touched.

Expectancy spread like a fever.

She was naked to the waist, her skin flushed. Her lips were moist and parted. Her jeans had shifted lower on her hips. The zipper was pulled all the way down, the material on either side spread wide. She was available to him.

Aidan’s hand was visible beneath the sheer nylon of her panties. The stretch and stroke of his fingers had her pressing into his palm as he penetrated her with his forefinger. In and out. She was wet for him.

Lifting her gaze, she found him watching her in the glass. Watching her reaction to each graze and slide of his finger. Her features bore signs of strain and naked longing.

Filling her with two fingers, he kept her on edge. He increased the pressure, sharp and enveloping. As her climax built, her back arched and her knees buckled. She clutched his arm.

He was there to catch her when she came. He trapped her close until her breathing eased. Slipping his hand from her panties, he turned her within the circle of his arms. He stroked her hair out of her face, kissed her lightly on the forehead. Then removed the rest of her clothes.

Goose bumps scattered on the soft flesh of her inner thighs as he eased down her jeans and panties. The callused pads of his thumbs skimmed the sensitive backs of her knees, then trailed down her calves. Her legs were smooth and lightly tanned. Her tennies and socks came next. Once her jeans and bikini briefs reached her ankles, she stepped out of them.

His mouth descended, and he teased and tasted her. She sighed as he parted her lips and deepened the kiss. She shivered when his tongue rubbed hotly over hers. He felt her pleasure.

She responded with passion and a desire to please him, too. Her hands found their way down his back and beneath his Barefoot William T-shirt. It came off with one smooth tug. His khaki shorts dropped next. Then his boxer briefs. She untied his tennis shoes. He toed the heels.

He stood naked before her now. Heat twisted inside him, heavy and urgent. The tip of his sex strained upward; his testicles pulled painfully tight.

Time was lost to sensation as Jillian Mac’s world went into soft focus. She pressed him with her body. Her breasts brushed the hard contours of his chest; her abdomen sought his sculpted stomach. She stroked every muscle, every bone.

He was breathing heavily when he walked her backward and into the shower. Frosted glass surrounded them. He proceeded to push a panel of buttons. In seconds, warm, inviting water cascaded from dual showerheads. The spray filmed her skin. There was nothing sexier than being touched beneath the sensual spray. Awareness magnified.

A selection of sponges hung from a shower caddy. She squeezed Burberry shower gel onto a natural sea sponge. Grapefruit and cedar scented the air. She bathed him, slowly, thoroughly. The scrape of her nails followed the scrub of the sponge, over the rounded muscles of his shoulders, the masculine cut of his chest, and his flat belly. When she caressed his erection, he jolted. When she squeezed him lightly, his eyes dilated. He groaned low in his throat.

Melting heat and thick, swelling pleasure deepened the moment when Aidan captured his own sponge, added lots of shower gel. Inch by soapy inch, he massaged her neck, her breasts, the curves of her hips. Her lips parted when he eased the sponge between the V of her thighs; the teasing force had her rocking against him.

Their intimacy threatened her sanity. Lust and longing and white-hot sensation filled her. Hunger and burning.

He released her for what seemed like a lifetime, but was only seconds. He took a condom from his waterproof shaving kit on a shelf above one of the benches. He ripped open the foil packet with his teeth and sheathed himself. He was ready for her now.

He backed her against the slick, tiled wall, cupping her bottom. His muscles flexed as he lifted her against him. She wrapped her arms about his neck, her legs about his hips. He slid into her.

Once she’d received him, she rolled her hips, taking him deeper, as deep as she could. He filled her fully. Their joining soon quickened, becoming fierce. Her pulse beat to his racing heart.

She bit his neck, scratched his shoulders, and scored his back.

He clutched her hips and bottom so tightly, he was certain to leave bruises.

Ultimate pleasure brought them to orgasm at the same moment.

She gasped, trembled, convulsed.

His whole body shuddered as he sank into her.

Sated, he supported her with one arm as he turned off the water. A further selection of buttons, and the shower became a steam room. Thick whirls rose all around them, clouding the glass.

He moved to one of the benches and sat. She straddled his thighs. They both exhaled at the same time.

He rested his chin on the top of her head.

She pressed her cheek to his shoulder.

They held each other so tight, not even the steam could squeeze between them. A feeling of contentment embraced her. The fleeting sense of stability petrified her. Relationships had not been good to her over the years.

She tried not to dwell on permanence. Instead she embraced the night with Aidan. The man was considerate. He loaned her an extra-large gray T-shirt after they tossed their dirty clothes in the washer.

She liked the airy feeling of not wearing panties.

Aidan liked her accessible, too. Twice more they had sex, on his living room couch and again in the garage on his workshop bench when she asked to see his tools. She’d gotten one tiny splinter; Aidan had removed it from her thigh. They had yet to reach his bedroom.

Two a.m. came and went. Her stomach growled.

“Care for a late-night snack?” Aidan asked while nuzzling her neck. She presently straddled his thighs as they sat on a metal antique glider on his wide-screened verandah. The sex they’d just had on it had been amazing. The back and forth slide combined with the roll of their hips provided her strongest orgasm of the night. Aidan proved insatiable. He’d worn her out.

She was definitely hungry. Food sounded good. Her T-shirt hung off her shoulders, exposing her breasts. She pulled it down, and then pushed to her feet. Aidan rose as well, tugging up his athletic shorts. They’d come outside to appreciate the cool night air, to stargaze, to talk. Her light touch on his thigh had turned their conversation into frantic glider sex. One of her best memories ever.

Aidan’s kitchen was large and modern. A six-seater restaurant booth sat in one corner. Here was the casual setting that offset his formal dining room. She liked the open area and long counter space.

Then hem on her shirt covered her bottom as she slid across the black leather seat. She rested her elbows on the Formica tabletop.

“Your choice,” Aidan said, “healthy or junk food.”

“Mix it up?”

He nodded. “That I can do.”

Sadie cracked one eye and sniffed the air when he scrambled eggs and fried bacon. Aidan gave his pointer a small bite of egg. It didn’t take much to satisfy her. She went right back to sleep.

He melted a Snickers bar in the microwave, then drizzled the chocolate, caramel, and nuts over toaster waffles and sliced bananas. Jill liked his cooking style.

“Coffee, orange juice, or both?” he asked her.

“Juice is fine.” Caffeine would keep her up. She needed to sleep eventually, if Aidan would let her.

He served her picnic-style, with paper plates, cups, and plastic silverware. He sat down across from her. Stretching out his legs beneath the table, he trapped her knees. The brief pressure made her shiver. They relaxed and ate.

She moaned with the first bite of her warm chocolaty waffle. “I recognize that sound,” Aidan teased her. “Sexy.”

She wasn’t the least embarrassed. She’d let herself go when they’d made love. Their bodies had spoken.

The flick of his tongue to her nipples had drawn her sigh. Her breath had been ragged when he’d entered her.

She’d heard him groan when she’d kissed his sex. Then listened to his chest hitch when she’d taken him in her mouth.

She cleaned her plate, and then ate off Aidan’s. He didn’t mind. One corner of his mouth tipped as she polished off the last strip of bacon. Two bites of banana, and she licked chocolate off her fingers.

“You are a turn-on, Jillian McMillan,” he said.

“You do it for me, too.”

He pushed their empty plates aside and took her hand. His gently kissed her palm. “Talk or sleep?” He left the choice to her.

“We can chat a while.”

“We can ask questions, get answers.”

“Do you think confessions make a relationship stronger?” she asked.

“Honesty strengthens a couple. We’ll take it slow. There’s no need to tell me everything tonight. You can save something for tomorrow.”

She smiled at him then. “I’ll go first.” She wanted to keep things light, so she went with, “What was your first impression of me?”

“That you were the hottest psychic I’d ever seen.”

Good answer. “I’d heard your name mentioned at James River Stadium. Then again by Lila at Steamers. I wasn’t ready for you, Aidan Cates,” she admitted. “You have a big presence. You fill a room, including the corners.”

Her next question was asked tongue in cheek. “Do you have a favorite memory of us?” They’d known each other only three weeks. “It can’t be sex.”

“You coming to the construction site and meeting my girls meant a lot to me.”

“That was a good day for me, too,” she agreed.

“Are you a romantic or a realist?” from Aidan.

“I love Valentine’s Day,” she confessed. “What does that tell you?” Sadly, she’d never had a boyfriend in February. That hadn’t stopped her from buying her own personal gifts. Last year she’d enjoyed a small box of chocolates while wearing red lounging pajamas. Extravagances, yet they’d made her feel special. “Do you have a favorite holiday?” she asked next.

“Thanksgiving,” he said. “No matter where my family might be living, we come together for a long weekend. Someday I’d like to host a big dinner party here. Holidays are best shared.”

“You have plenty of room.” She could picture the gathering. The dining room festively decorated. Fall centerpieces and seasonal wreaths. Lots of food and laughter. Kicking back and watching football. Or feeling full and taking a nap. Then savoring a second piece of pie.

“I have more space than I know what to do with most days,” he said. “I built a big house in anticipation of a big family.”

“How many kids?” She was curious.

“My parents had five. We’d take sides, two and two, and one would break the tie.”

“Same at my house,” she said. “Although Cody always had the last word; he was the oldest.”

“Both Trace and Shaye and Dune and Sophie are wanting to start families. I’m waiting for baby announcements any day now.”

“They’ll make good parents.”

“Ever been in love, Jill?”

This seemed important to him. She had strong feelings for Aidan. They hadn’t known each other long; she had no idea if her feelings would last. So she shook her head. “Can’t say that I have. How about you?”

He grinned. “Ninth grade, her name was Bethany Michaels. She was the only female to take shop. My kind of girl.”