Nothing Personal (21 page)

“Damn.” He was lying on his back beside her, breathing hard. Had pulled the covers over them, finally, because their bodies were cooling down now, the heat dissipating. “I always knew that would feel good. But it felt . . .” He laughed a little.
“Really
good.”

She was laughing a bit herself.
“Mmm. What would you call that, though? Self-service ravishment?”

“Hey
.” He felt the slow grin growing. “I serviced you pretty good.”

“Eventually.” She leaned over him, kissed his chest
, ran her hand over it, and that felt good too. “I’ve never been kidnapped before, though, so I’ll admit that I don’t know the rules.”

“That’s right.”
He smoothed a hand over her damp curls, twined one around his finger, exactly as he’d always imagined doing it. “Luckily, I’m an experienced kidnapper.”

He
considered staying where he was, changed his mind with reluctance, flipped the comforter back and swung his legs around.

S
he reached for him. “Don’t go,” she protested. “Stay with me.”

He
leaned over and kissed her, slow and soft. “Just going to take a shower,” he promised. “Then I’ll come back and sleep with you, so we can keep the monsters away.”

“No monsters tonight,” she said. “I’m good.”

“I wasn’t talking about
your
monsters.” Which made her laugh, exactly as he’d hoped.

Then he stood up, but she had a hand around his thigh, was pulling him back to sit again. “Alec. Wait.”

He began to turn, stopped at the touch of her mouth at the very base of his spine. Then her tongue, licking over the sensitive skin there,
making him shiver.

She ran a slow han
d down his back, stopped at the bottom, her fingertips delicate against his skin, and touched her lips to him again.

“Now you can go take your shower
,” she told him. “Now that I’ve kissed your birthmark.”

“Morning.”

It l
ooked like Gabe and Mira were finishing up breakfast. Alec sighed a little as he shut the side door behind him. One of these days, he was going to have to learn how to cook. Oh, well. That’s what restaurants were for.

“
Mind if I borrow a couple things? T-shirt, underwear, socks?” he asked his brother. “And a laundry bag?”

“Sure.” Gabe pushed back from the table
, handed his brother a plastic bag taken from a wire basket nailed to the cabinet door under the sink, and led the way into his bedroom. He opened a few drawers and pulled out neatly folded items, handed them to Alec in a stack.

“
It just gets worse and worse,” Alec complained. “Not only do you have a special holder for your grocery bags, you fold your underwear.”

“I do.” Gabe clearly wasn’t the least bit disconcerted.
“Prepare to be shocked, because I fold Mira’s too. I match up her socks and fold the tops over. I am Laundry Man, and I am proud.”

Alec snorted. “Good thing you found each other.”

“So.” Gabe sat on the bed and watched his brother strip down. “No sleeping bag.”

“What was that
thing you said to me once?” Alec wondered, buttoning the fly of his jeans again, pulling the clean T-shirt over his head and yanking it down. “Oh, yeah. None of your business, and you know it.”

Gabe laughed. “
So you got that figured out? The working-together thing?”

“It’ll work out.” Alec sat beside him and pulled on the clean socks. “
I’ll make it happen.”

“You always do,” Gabe agreed. “The Midas touch.
Not always as easy with those tricky human emotions, though.”

“
No worries.” He was on top of the world this morning. It would work, because he would make it work. “I’m good.”

When they got back to the kitchen, there was a cup of coffee waiting for him in a white stoneware mug.

“Thanks
,” he told Mira, taking a grateful sip. Strong, black, and scalding, exactly the way he liked it. “I was telling Gabe last night, the remodel turned out great. Very homey.”

“It’s nice, isn’t it?” she said, looking around with satisfaction.

“It looks like there should be, I don’t know, things hanging from the beams in the ceiling,” he said. “Like in the cabin. A side of bacon, maybe some of those plants.” He gestured. “You know, bunches of them, hanging upside down.”

“Herbs
,” she said with a smile. “I think we’ll pass on the bacon, but Gabe’s going to make me raised beds in the spring so we can do some gardening, so who knows? You might see your herbs drying in here someday. He says he’ll build me a fence, too. I thought, sunflowers, sweet peas up against it. Won’t that be pretty?”

“Let me guess,” Alec said. “A white picket fence.”

“That’s what I want,” she said happily. “And then a dog.”

He had to roll his eyes at that, he couldn’t help it. All they needed was the two-point-five kids, and they’d be all set.

“Want to come up for the weekend, late April maybe, soon as the ground warms up enough, and give me a hand with that?” Gabe asked. “Put some of those new skills to use, keep you from getting soft now that you’re pounding a keyboard all day instead of swinging an axe. You aren’t as good at it as I am, of course.” He leaned back against the wall with a satisfied sigh. “But I can supervise.”

Alec snorted. “I’m at least
as good at it as you are. We’ll have a fence-off. Bet you twenty bucks I’m faster.”

“It also has to not fall down,” Gabe pointed out
helpfully. “But I’ll take that bet. Mira can judge.”

Another snort. “Oh, yeah. Because she’s impartial.”

She was laughing, her eyes dancing. “You realize what just happened, don’t you?” she asked Alec.

“What? My brother just questioned my manhood?”

“Your brother just conned you into building half of my white picket fence. And you’re supposed to be the smooth one.”

He didn’t answer that, because the door had opened again, an
d there was Desiree, in the same soft, snug shirt and jeans she’d worn yesterday, her hair falling in the ringlets he loved. And he was grinning like a fool.

“This is getting to be a bad habit,” she said ruefully. “Second day I’ve slept in. Good morning, everybody.”

“Two days isn’t a habit,” Alec said. “Sit. How’s your grandma doing?”

“Good,” she said as she sat. “Going home today like they thought, so that’s good.”

He got up and fixed her coffee, sat down again next to her. Saw Gabe taking it all in, exchanging a glance with Mira. Well, obvious to his twin wasn’t the same as obvious to the world.

Mira finished her own coffee and stood. “I’d love to hang around with you guys, but I need to get ready for work.
Don’t want to be late.”

“Yeah,” Alec agreed. “You’ve got a
pretty harsh boss, I hear. I imagine the consequences are dire.”

“You don’t want to know,”
she agreed solemnly.

“
How’s that working out?” Alec asked his brother when Mira had left the room. “Mira runs Gabe’s office,” he explained to Rae. “Since they moved up here.”

“Since she figured out that we should move up here,” Gabe corrected. “And the answer is, terrific. Marketing, administration, dealing with insurance companies, the works.
We’ve got a couple other people in there, but she’s the one making it all happen. Runs the whole practice for my partner and me. Marry an efficient woman, that’s my advice, and my brilliant life plan too.”

“Too bad we never thought of putting that in our personal ads,” Alec agreed. “Could have
got everything working out for us a whole lot sooner.”

Rae
laughed at that. “You guys never used a personal ad in your lives.”

“I know what mine would have said, though,” Alec told her.

“What?”

He smiled. “Tell you later.”

Gabe pushed himself away from the table. “I’ve got to get ready too. Glad Alec brought you by, Desiree. Stay as long as you like, and come back anytime.”

“Let’s go for breakfast, a walk by the river,” Alec urged, turning away from the front door with Rae fifteen minutes later after saying a quick goodbye to Gabe and Mira. “Unless you want to cook, or to chance it with me. But I’m warning you, I’m not too good.”

“Remember? Me neither. I’m sure I should be whipping you up Eggs
Benedict or something, convincing you that I’m your Dream Woman, but I’m afraid it’d be more like your worst nightmare.”

He laughed. “No mastery of the culinary arts required
, as long as you aren’t judging me on that score either. So,” he made a motion towards the door, “eat? Walk?”

“
It’s like you’re talking to your dog,” she protested. “They both sound good, but we should really get back.”

“
It isn’t even eight yet. Consider yourself still kidnapped, because I’m not nearly ready to let you go.”

He had to grab her, then, didn’t he? He had a point to make, after all.

“That shouldn’t sound so . . .” she sighed when he came up for air.

“So what
?” He gave her another long kiss, pulled her in just a bit closer with a hand under that gorgeous ass. Got a little distracted, sent his hand down the center seam of her jeans, and then kept it there, because that was where it belonged.

“So . . . sexy.” It was another sigh, and
she was moving under his hand, and he decided that what he
really
needed to do was take her back to check out those flannel sheets again.

So he did. Which made it quite a bit later
by the time they actually got their breakfast.

“It’s really OK with Gabe for you just to take his truck like this?” she asked when he’d climbed in next to her after they’d restored themselves at the Chuck Wagon Café. Pancakes. He loved pancakes, and he wasn’t about to figure out how to make them. Even if he’d geared himself up to do eggs, pancakes would have been out. So there he was. Restaurants.

“Of course it is.”
He turned the fan up, shivered at the blast, wished it didn’t take so long for this monster to warm up. No new snow, but it was
cold.
Good thing there’d been plenty of warm clothes to borrow for this walk, because he really didn’t want to take Rae back to the City yet.

“What if he needs it, though?”

“Then he’ll call me, won’t he? Or take my car.”

“The
y didn’t need it to get to work, obviously. Is it that close? Or do they have another car?”

He laughed at that, turned onto the main road toward the river.
“The office is exactly two blocks from the house. They both went native on that show. They walk to work together, walk to the grocery store together, walk to the gym together and work out. They belong to the damn Rotary Club
together, go to meetings and demonstrate Civic Responsibility. It’s actually a little nauseating.” At least it had always seemed that way before.

He
made the left turn onto the river road. Perfectly clear, and the parking lot for the path probably would be too. He hadn’t needed to take the truck at all.

The thought had barely crossed his mind before he was taking another
corner, in amongst the pines now, and feeling the wheels sliding right out from under him.

Black ice,
he registered as he steered into the skid, fought to keep the car under control, pressed down with a desperate foot and felt the antilock brakes engaging. A brief screech, one final fishtail, and they were clear. 

“
Huhh.” He let out the breath he’d been holding in a relieved sigh. “That was a little too close. Thank God nobody was coming in the opposite direction.”

“Stop the car.”

The words came out strangled. He looked over in surprise, saw her face, white and rigid, her knuckles gleaming against the black handle of the armrest.

“
Stop,” she croaked again. “Please.”

They had arrived at the
entrance to the park, he realized with relief. He slowed even more, took a cautious left into the lot. Pulled into the first space he saw.

She was pulling at the door handle, frantic
, before they’d even come to a complete stop. He popped the lock for her, saying, “Desiree, wait.” But she didn’t stop to listen.

By the time he made it out of the car, around to her side, she was
leaning over the hood, her arms wrapped around herself. Not crying this time, but shaking violently. Silently, which scared him even more.

“Baby, no. It’s all right. It’s OK. We’re fine.” This was the second time, he thought desperately, and once again, he had no earthly clue what to do, so he did the only thing he could think of. Pulled her into his arms, turned her around, leaned against the car
himself, and held her. Stroked his hand over her hair and murmured nonsense to her while she shook, and the tears came at last.

“Sorry,” she finally got out, sagging against him. “I know . . .” She gave a little laugh. “Big overreaction. Is there a . . .” She swiped at her face. “A tissue box in the car, maybe?”

He let go of her with reluctance, did some searching. “More paper towels,” he apologized, handing them to her.

“We have a pattern going.
” She still sounded much too shaky, but more like herself again.

“There’s a bench down there by the river,” he offered. “Want to go sit with me for a f
ew minutes?” He reached into the car again, handed her a knit hat, pulled on his own. “As long as we don’t freeze our . . . ears off.”

“
Yes,” she said. “Sitting would be good.”

“I’m sorry,” he said when they’d got there. The wood was cold beneath them, and he wished he’d thought to bring a blanket or something from the car, but he didn’t want to go back and get it, leave her alone.

He turned a bit on the bench so he could look at her.
“Maybe I was going too fast. I wasn’t thinking about the possibility of black ice. With everything that’s happened to you this weekend, I guess that was the last straw, huh?”

“It’s not that
,” she said, her gaze fixed on the icy water flowing over tumbled boulders, the snow-covered banks. “Or maybe it was that, who knows. I’m sure it didn’t help. You were driving fine. Not your fault. But I was in a car accident when I was little. The swerving and the screeching . . . they pulled me right back there. I’m the one who should apologize. You didn’t bargain for all my childhood traumas this weekend.”

He ignored that. “The back seat,” he guessed.

“Yeah,” she sighed. “The back seat. It was . . .” She swallowed. “When my mom died.”

“Was she driving?”

She shook her head, her eyes still on the river. “No. My dad. They’d been having an argument, I think. At least, he was mad. But then,” she said with a bitter little laugh, “he was usually mad.”