Real Men Don't Quit (14 page)

“Want me to drive?” Tyler asked, looking apprehensive.

“I’m okay.” He buckled his seat belt. She continued to look worried. “Really, I am. I’m not going to go all crazy. Promise.” He glanced back at Chloe. “Pinkie promise.”

“Well, then.” She settled back in her seat. “That’s okay.”

It
was
okay, he realized after a few minutes on the road. Tyler had witnessed the ugly underbelly of his family life, but he didn’t mind. In fact, her presence helped him keep some perspective on the disaster. He’d sort out his father and sister another day. Even his writing problems he’d solve somehow. The snarl in his gut gradually untangled as they drove back to Burronga.

Ten minutes later, Tyler’s head was nodding against her headrest, and Chloe had already fallen asleep. Luke slackened his foot off the accelerator and eased back to catch the breeze flowing through the window. They would arrive soon enough, but for now he had everything he needed right here.

…

Tyler tucked the blanket under Chloe’s chin and pressed a final good-night kiss on her head. Her daughter barely stirred. Worn out by the party, she was already fast asleep. Tyler shut the bedroom door behind her and moved to the living room.

Luke was still there. Her heart skittered. She’d thought he might have gone next door, but he stood motionless by the window, gazing at the dusk-drenched garden. Judging by the tense set of his back, she had a suspicion he wasn’t really seeing anything. Emotion rushed over her and before she knew it, she had closed the gap between them. She brushed her hands across his back, and then couldn’t help herself wrapping her arms around him. His body was taut and hard, but at her touch, his muscles seemed to ease a fraction.

He turned toward her, arms going swiftly around her. Her heart thumped louder. This was exactly what she needed, she thought. What they both needed.

“Weird day, huh?” She coasted her hands over his back, exploring the length of his spine.

He pressed himself against her, muscular thighs rubbing against hers, triggering an answering flare in her legs. “A roller coaster of a day.” His breath feathered her temples. “Some pretty bad lows, but it’s starting to look up again.” His fingers fanned across her hips, explored her bottom, then slid to her waist. Desire sparked in his licorice eyes. She sensed him straining against his self-restraint, managing to just hold on. “Tyler,” he murmured, “are we suspending the light-and-casual policy?”

He had to bring that up now? She slid her hands over his torso, gliding upward to the bare skin at the V of his shirt, where she twirled her nails through a few strands of chest hair. Today she’d glimpsed the loves and hurts that shaped this complex man. He was so much more than just her hunky neighbor, and light and casual just wasn’t going to be enough for her.

“It’s a sacrifice, but someone’s gotta do it.”

Heat flared in his black eyes, and then he crushed his mouth against hers. This was no courting kiss. This was a blistering, ravenous kiss that bordered on rough. If it had been anyone else, she would have objected, but Luke’s thirst only inflamed hers. She matched his kiss, as avid as he, licking her tongue deep into his mouth. He made a growling noise in his chest, a primitive sound that stoked her excitement. Tangling his fingers through her hair, he claimed her jaw and neck with swift little bites before returning to her mouth. She could feel the fever throbbing through him as strong and urgent as her own, and she wasn’t too surprised when the front of his jeans swelled against her belly.

He must have become aware of it too, because he broke off the kiss and cupped her face in his hands, his breathing quick and uneven. “Do you know what you’re doing to me?” he muttered. “You could make a grown man cry.”

She gulped in some much-needed air. Her head was spinning like a top from his searing kisses, and she didn’t want the mayhem to stop. “Well, I’d hate to see you cry.” Her body was out of control, and she found herself sliding her belly up and down against him.

Luke let out another growl that sent a delicious shiver down her spine. She was toying with the tiger, she knew, and any second now the beast was going to pounce on her. The idea made her knees even weaker.

He gripped her waist again, harder this time. “We both know there’s an easy solution to this dilemma.”

His words hung in the torrid air between them. Her body screamed to kiss him, to possess him and be possessed by him. She couldn’t keep away from Luke. Not now, not after everything that had happened today. The wrenching confrontation he had endured with his father had demolished all her reservations about keeping her distance. Luke needed her, and tonight she couldn’t deny him anything.

“I like easy solutions,” she murmured.

Taking his hand, she led him down the hallway and into her bedroom. Fortunately, the bedroom was the one place she managed to keep clean, as she disliked mistreating her clothes. The room was reasonably tidy, but Luke didn’t seem to notice, all his attention taken by the huge, four-poster bed that dominated the small space.

“If I’d known you had a bed like this, I would have made my move sooner.”

She gave him a saucy grin, loving the glint in his eyes. “I have plans for you in this bed. Naughty plans.”

“Oh yeah?” The gleam in his eyes became a furnace. “I have a pretty fertile imagination too. I can see myself doing a few naughty things to you as well.”

She bit her lip as an all-body flush enveloped her. “Just a few?”

“Looks like we’ve got a busy night ahead of us.”

He reached for her and spun her into his arms, and she landed against his chest with a gasp.

Oh yeah, it was going to be one busy night all right.

Chapter Eleven

Luke was dreaming of making love to a beautiful redhead on a deserted beach when something nudged his shoulder. He tried to roll away and continue his randy dream, but the shaking continued. With a sigh, he peeled his eyes open to find the gorgeous redhead of his dream peering down at him through sex-tousled hair.

“Tyler? Is everything okay?” He blinked several times as he shook off the last remnants of his dream.

“Everything’s fine,” she said in a low tone. “But it’s almost six.”

Gray, predawn light percolated through the curtains. They were in her room, and he was naked in her four-poster bed. They were both naked. Memories of last night came surging back. The kissing and caressing, the teasing and playing, the scorching, incredible sex…

“Ah…” Exhaling a sigh of pleasure, he stretched out on the pillows and twined his fingers through her hair. “You’re hungry again, are you? Is that why you’re waking me up?” Instant heat unfurled through him, his body already priming itself.

“Sorry, no.” Her smile was regretful. “I’m waking you so you can go home before Chloe gets up.”

He blinked at her. “Really?”

“Yes, really.” Rolling out of bed, she picked up a violet robe and drew it around her naked body. “I make it a rule never to let Chloe see me in bed with a man.”

He pushed himself against the headrest. “I’m not some stranger. Chloe knows me.”

Tyler shot him a frown. “Are you suggesting I’m in the habit of picking up strangers?”

“Not at all,” he swiftly replied. He rubbed his bristly jaw for a few moments. “Hell, that was pretty insulting, wasn’t it? I apologize, but my point still holds. Chloe’s used to seeing me around the place.”

“It doesn’t matter.” She tied the belt of her robe with quick jerks. “Chloe is young and impressionable. I want to keep my sex life under wraps from her.”

“For how long? Until she’s eighteen? Leaves home?”

“If I have to.” Shaking back her hair, she perched on the bed next to him, her expression softening slightly. “I don’t want my little girl growing up faster than she has to. Can you understand that?”

The plea in her blue eyes instantly melted him. “Of course, and I’m just being selfish.”

And slow-witted, too. Tyler was right to turf him out of bed. Whatever sexual relationship was developing between them, it would have to be temporary because sooner or later, he’d be leaving. So it would be better all around to keep that away from Chloe, and better for them, too. They both had busy lives with individual goals and different paths to follow. It wouldn’t do to let this crackling magnetism between them take over their whole lives.

He got out of bed, wondering where all his clothes had gone in the frenzy of last night. As he searched about, he saw Tyler staring at him with hungry eyes. Her gaze slid over his naked body, ogling him without shame, and damn it if she didn’t lick her bottom lip.

He grinned at her. “You don’t want to look at me like that, or I’ll strip that robe off you in two seconds.”

“Promises, promises.” Her lips curled up.

He found his jeans and pulled them on. “So when can I make good on my promises?”

An odd, nervous look came over her. “Uh, I’m not sure.”

It hit him that Tyler wasn’t always as confident as she made out. She exuded such an aura of sultry sexiness that he’d assumed she’d had plenty of experience with men, but when he thought about it, she probably hadn’t. Before Chloe, she’d been involved exclusively with Damien, and since Chloe had been born, she’d always put her daughter first.

“Why don’t I cook dinner for you and Chloe tonight?”

She fiddled with the belt, still unsure. “Your agent’s house is so spick and span. I’m afraid Chloe would make a mess there.”

“So I’ll cook here, then.” He shrugged on his shirt, leaving it unbuttoned. “I’ll come over at five thirty.”

“Okay.”

She seemed pleased by that, and he couldn’t resist reeling her in and giving her one last heavy, hungry kiss. The kiss lasted longer than he’d intended, and by the time they broke apart, they were both flushed and out of breath.

“I’d better go,” Luke muttered, picking up his shoes and heading for the door before the temptation that was Tyler became too much.

When he returned next door, he knew he’d never get back to sleep. Half an hour later, he’d showered, made himself a mug of instant coffee, and was sitting in front of his laptop for the first time in more than a week. At first, the sight of the blinking cursor on an empty page revived all the familiar doubts and frustrations, but he forced them from his mind and concentrated on what he and Tyler had talked about in his mother’s house. Free writing. Write about anything, whatever came to his mind. It didn’t matter what, as long as the words appeared on the screen.

Like coins from a miser, the words dripped out one by one at an excruciatingly slow pace. He was tempted to give up, but he liked the sound of the words he managed to squeeze out, and he persevered. After a few false starts, he found himself writing about two women, one young, one middle-aged, one in the present, one in the past. Gradually, the wheels in his brain that he feared had seized up for good squeaked and squealed into motion, jerky and rusty, but moving all the same. It didn’t take him long to realize his inspiration was coming from two women in his life—Tyler and his mother. They didn’t at all resemble his characters, but they furnished the worlds of his fictional women and teased his imagination, sparking fresh bursts of creativity.

By the afternoon he was surprised to see he’d managed a few thousand words. He shut his laptop and started brooding over his other problem—his father. He called Helen and was relieved to learn she hadn’t had any more surprise visits from him.

“I don’t want anything to do with him,” Helen repeated before pleading, “Is that so wrong of me?”

He assured her that her resentment was only natural, but he couldn’t let go of the image of his father sagging against his decrepit car when Luke had thrust those bank notes at him. For a few moments, his father had seemed so frail and desperate. Desperate not just for money but for companionship. Luke had never seen him so vulnerable, but instead of being glad that his rascal of a father had met his just deserts, he felt guilty, exasperated, and also, somehow, responsible.

“Can you deal with him?” Helen asked. “I don’t know if I could control myself.”

“Sure.” He hadn’t told her that the father she loathed was living not far from her in a rundown motel. Time for that later, if ever. He rang off, feeling drained and in no mood to tackle the problem of his father. Tomorrow would do.

At five thirty he went next door, his mood quickly improving at the prospect of the evening ahead. He hadn’t reached the house when Chloe came pelting out to greet him, a big grin on her face.

“Mumma says you’re making us dinner!” she crowed as she flung herself into his arms.

He swung her up. “That’s right, Little Miss Moppet. Are you going to help me?”

“Yes, but only if you don’t call me little.”

He threw back his head and laughed. “It’s a deal, Big Miss Moppet.”

She dragged him into the kitchen, where Tyler was busy putting away crockery. Pushing the hair from her eyes, she gave him a wide smile. “Hey.”

“Hey.” He couldn’t tear his gaze away from her. He hadn’t seen her all day, and all he wanted to do was press her up against the refrigerator and take advantage of those luscious, pouty lips of hers. It didn’t help either the way she stared back at him, the luster in her eyes signaling she was suffering the same urges. Battening down his craving, he said casually, “Had a busy day?”

“Yes, but it improved when I heard Chloe’s babysitter is well again. She’ll be able to look after her starting tomorrow.”

“Well, that’s good.”

Chloe tugged at his hand, demanding to know what he was going to cook. Belatedly he realized he should have gone to the grocery store for a few supplies.

“Take whatever you need from the fridge or the pantry. I don’t mind potluck,” Tyler said. “Chloe, why don’t you go play with your pony?”

Her daughter pushed out her lower lip. “I wanna help Luke make dinner. He asked me to.”

Luke tousled her curls. “I couldn’t manage without you.”

“You’re already making dinner,” Tyler said. “You don’t have to entertain Chloe as well.”

Tyler kept her gaze on Luke. She seemed concerned. That he’d run out of patience with her daughter? “It’s fine,” he stressed. “Why don’t you go relax or something?”

She hesitated a few more seconds before lifting her shoulders. “Okay. I do have some soldering to finish. I’ll be in my workshop, so just yell if you need any help.”

“No worries. Chloe and I have everything under control here.”

Chloe seemed to be fascinated by a man in the kitchen. She was determined to help him, confident he couldn’t manage without her. With a lot of discreet assistance from him, she washed lettuce, made vinaigrette, picked off basil leaves, and set the table.

“Look, Mumma, I’m cooking!” she declared, waving her wooden spoon when Tyler poked her head into the kitchen a while later.

“That’s wonderful, baby.” Tyler glanced at Luke. “Everything okay in here?”

“We’ll be ready in fifteen minutes.”

“Oh.” She seemed a bit nonplussed as she inspected the kitchen. “I had these visions of the room covered in spaghetti sauce and Chloe breaking dishes and you tearing your hair out in frustration.”

The kitchen was tidier than when she’d left. He had washed up the dirty glasses in the sink, pinned her bills to the notice board, swept the floor, and emptied the garbage bin. On the stove bubbled a pot of bacon and tomato sauce, while the cleared table was laid for three, complete with placemats.

“My hair’s safe for now,” he said. “Go back and finish your soldering.”

“Okay.” But the doubtful look lingered on her face as she withdrew.

A while later Chloe called her to dinner. Her face flushed from her exertions, the girl danced around her mother with bubbling anticipation.

“You gotta sit here,” she said bossily, steering Tyler to a seat. “I got you the moo-cow glass.”

“Thank you, darling. Wow, everything looks fantastic.” She waved at the pasta, sauce, and salad on the table. “I never knew you were such a good cook, baby.”

Chloe looked set to burst with pride. “Luke helped me,” she mumbled before flinging her arms around Luke’s leg.

At her fervent embrace, Luke’s heart swelled. But as he took in her trusting eyes, unease twitched in his gut. How could he live up to her expectations? He was bound to disappoint her one day—lose his patience, forget something, say the wrong thing. He couldn’t be more to Chloe than just a nice buddy.

“Glad I could help, moppet.” He patted her shoulder and glanced at Tyler.

Tyler’s expression had grown slightly fixed. Had she caught a glimpse of his doubts? Did she worry that her daughter was having too much fun with him? Trying to shrug off his apprehensions, he disentangled Chloe from his legs and helped her into a chair. “Let me serve you,” he said to Tyler. Maybe he’d misinterpreted her, he thought. Maybe she’d been thinking of something else completely.

…

Throughout dinner, Tyler couldn’t help but notice the rapport between her daughter and Luke. Chloe blossomed under his attention, and Luke’s affection for her appeared quite genuine. She should have been glad. Chloe needed more positive male role models in her life, and she seemed to have connected with their hunky next-door neighbor. But Tyler only felt a growing uneasiness, which spurted each time Luke caught her eye and grinned, making her heart flip over. She was just as enthralled with him as Chloe, but, unlike her three-year-old daughter, she could foresee what would happen in the near future.

Luke would finish his book, or he would decide he needed a change of environment, or his sister would convince him to move back to Goulburn. Whichever way she diced it up, the outcome was the same. Luke was going to leave, and soon.

She didn’t have a problem with that, even though last night with him had been beyond sensational, beyond anything she’d ever experienced. She’d always known theirs was only a short-term hookup. But Chloe didn’t know Luke was just temporary, and here she was beaming and pulling faces at him and having more fun at dinner than she’d ever had. Tyler’s heart twisted. Poor baby.

When dinner was over, Luke insisted on washing up while Tyler supervised Chloe’s bath. She took her time with Chloe, thinking Luke might get bored with waiting, but when Chloe was ready for bed and wanted to say good night to Luke, he was still in the kitchen. The dishes had all been washed and packed away, the table was clean, and all the counters were wiped down and sparkling.

“Good night, Miss Moppet.” Hunkering down, he tweaked her cheek.

She responded by hugging him fiercely. “Night, night. See you tomorrow.”

Tyler led her away, her heart panging at her daughter’s last words. Would she see Luke tomorrow? Somehow she was nervous of the night ahead. She read Chloe two books more than she usually did at bedtime and waited until she was soundly asleep before quitting the bedroom.

Luke’s tall figure loomed in the narrow hallway. Tyler squeaked. “You startled me.”

“Sorry,” he murmured. Stepping closer, he nodded toward Chloe’s closed bedroom door. “Everything okay in there?”

“Sure.” She began to slide away, but he simply closed the gap between them. She stood there, her breathing accelerating as his nearness befuddled her brain. “Uh, do you want coffee or something?”

“I’ll take the something.” Reaching out, he ran his fingers from the top of her shoulder down the length of her arm. “I’ve been waiting patiently all day for this moment.”

The sensuous heat in his gaze thrilled her, but then she reminded herself of the little girl sleeping just a few meters away. “L-Luke, I don’t think this is a good idea.” The tremor in her voice surprised her. Until now, she hadn’t realized how stirred up she was.

A faint line appeared on his forehead. His fingers stilled around her wrist but didn’t fall away. “Oh? Care to tell me why?”

The caress of his skin against hers scattered her wits. She cleared her throat. What were her arguments again? A second ago they’d been so solid, but now they’d blown away. “I don’t want Chloe getting too attached to you,” she murmured. “I don’t want her to be disappointed when you move away.”