Summer Kisses (72 page)

The fancy dresses he’d seen hanging on the rack next to her sewing table looked like they belonged on a Paris fashion runway.

“And Lucy gives me a little each week to help feed Royce,” she added.

“You watch him for free?”

Staring at the floor, she nodded. Obviously, she didn’t want him to know she had such a soft heart. “Lucy wants to pay me, but I can’t take it when I know how broke she is. Speaking of expenses, I should take you to buy the paint this morning.”

“Do you think maybe we could stop at an auto parts store, too? I need a new battery and stuff to work on the bike. I could also use a side trip to buy some clothes.”

“Sure.” She put a finger to her chin. “You know, I have most of Matt’s old clothes in the attic. His straight-legged jeans are out of style, and he was a little huskier, but I could take some of them in for you.”

He shoveled a forkful of eggs into his mouth. “Thanks, but I can wear ‘em baggy. I’m trying to put weight on, anyway.” He crunched a strip of bacon. “This breakfast is great. Maybe by the time you’re done feeding me, the clothes will fit.”

“As soon as I get back from walking Tommy to the bus stop, I’ll show you where the boxes are. Then you can get out of that long sleeve shirt. It’s supposed to get really warm today.”

“Can’t Mac take me instead?” Tommy asked.

She hesitated a moment, clearly unsure if she should trust her homeless housepainter with her child. She raised her palms in surrender. “I guess that tells me where I rank.”

“I’d like to go with him, if you don’t mind.”

“Sure.” Abby shrugged one shoulder. “Lucy will be there with Royce.”

~*~

They spent the entire morning shopping. Matt bought himself some more socks, underwear, and a suit along with everything else he needed for job interviews.

After they returned home and had lunch, he changed into a set of the old clothes Abby had given him, then worked on cutting in around the trim on one side of the house.

At three-thirty, the boys appeared at the bottom of the ladder. “Can we help?” Royce called up to him.

Matt looked down at the two toothless grins tilted up at him. “If you put on some old clothes you can.”

Ten minutes later, the kids dashed out the back door, wearing outfits that emphasized how much they’d grown that year. Seeing the inches of leg between his son’s pants and PF Flyers fed Matt’s growing rage. He’d missed so damn much with his child.

He gave them each a brush and a coffee can with primer and showed them the proper way to apply the paint. The boys impressed him with their neatness and diligence in coating the lowest two rows of clapboard along the whole side of the house. They were so intent on outdoing each other they ended up working right along with Matt for the rest of the afternoon, entertaining him with their chattering and questions.

At six o’clock, Abby called them for dinner. Before heading inside, Matt stroked his beard as he strolled along the length of the house, inspecting the kids’ efforts. “Wow. I can’t believe you guys did such a great job. You’re the two best helpers I’ve ever had.”

The boys’ faces beamed as they raced each other into the house. Matt finished cleaning the brushes and hurried inside, rolling his eyes at the aroma of roast chicken and herbs. “Mmmm. That smells great. Let me get cleaned up, and I’ll be back to help.”

He changed into one of the short-sleeved polos and a clean pair of jeans Abby had given him. On returning to the kitchen, he poured drinks for everyone and then reached for the meat platter to carve the chicken.

“Oh, Mac,” Abby exhaled his name in a long breath, her gaze locked on his scars. She ran her hand down his mottled forearm. “What’d those animals do to you?”

He clenched his jaw, closing his eyes. “Abby, I have scars all over me. The last thing I want to do is talk about how I got them.”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”

A few minutes later, just as Royce finished saying grace, a set of knuckles rapped on the back door and a blonde fellow with a GI haircut stepped in.

“Uncle Peter!” the boys screeched in unison and leapt out of their chairs, spilling Tommy’s milk.

Matt jumped up and helped Abby mop up the mess with a wad of napkins. He glanced down at his soaked lap.“At least most of it landed on me instead of your clean floor.”

After the guy finished peeling the boys off his legs, Abby kissed him on the cheek. “Hi, should I set a place for you?”

“Sure, thanks.” The man extended his hand to Matt. “Hi, I’m Pete Larson, Abby’s brother.”

Matt nodded and shook his hand. “Mac McCartney.”

“Have we met? You seem vaguely familiar.”

What would he do if her brother recognized him? “I doubt it. I’ve been out of the country the last six and a half years.”

“Six and a half?” Abby frowned. “I thought you told me it was seven.”

Great. This was why it never paid to lie. “Oh, uhhh, I just rounded it off. It felt more like seventy years.” He jerked his head toward the hallway. “Would you excuse me for a moment? I have to change my pants.”

By the time he returned, her brother had squeezed in at the small table next to Tommy. Peter glanced at Matt sideways. “So how do you know Abby?”

Matt filled his fork with fluffy stuffing. “I don’t really. We just met on Friday. She hired me to do some work around the house.”

Peter glowered at his sister. “I was wondering about the fresh paint. Carol had a night class, so I came to take you to pick out a color. You know you can’t afford to hire anyone.”

“Relax. Mac isn’t costing me a dime.”

“That’s not quite the truth.” Matt held up his fork. “I’m eating her out of house and home. When it comes to cooking, your sister makes Julia Child seem like an amateur.”

A speculative gleam lit Peter’s eyes. His gaze ricocheted between them and the hallway leading to the bedroom where Matt had just changed his pants. “Is Mac staying here with you?”

“As a matter of fact, he is.” She nodded. “Not that it’s any of your business.”

“I find it hard to believe Rob approves of this.”

“Robert
isn’t
happy. And it’s none of his beeswax, either.”

“For crying out loud, Abby,”—Peter groaned—“you just got engaged. Don’t screw things up. Where is Rob tonight, anyway?”

“He has late office hours on Wednesdays.” She moved Royce’s glass from the edge of the table. “And I hardly think Rob would break our engagement because I have a houseguest.”

“That all depends on where your company is sleeping.”

She glared at Peter. “I think you owe me an apology.”

“I think you do, too.” Matt narrowed his gaze at her brother. “Either that, or you owe me one. Which is it? Is Abby a woman lacking in morals, or am I a seducer of unsuspecting widows?”

“I’m not sure.” Her brother scowled. “That’s what I’m afraid of. I don’t know you from Adam.”

“Well, I do.” Abby huffed. “Mac has been nothing but a gentleman. I’m a grown woman, and I don’t need a father. So you’re just going to have to trust my judgment.”

Peter flicked a self-righteous glance toward Tommy. “I know where your judgment managed to get you on one particular night. So don’t ask me to place any great faith in it.”

“I don’t have to listen to this.” She pointed toward the door. “If you don’t like things around here, you can leave.”

Tommy and Royce’s gazes darted back and forth between her and Peter, tension pinching their faces. Matt gestured toward the kids. “I think you’re upsetting the boys. Why don’t you continue this conversation at another time?”

“No, I’m not continuing this discussion at all, because if I don’t get an apology, Peter will be leaving—
without dinner
.”

Her brother muttered into his plate, “I’m sorry, okay? Crucify me for worrying about you.”

~*~

Abby silently stared at Peter, fuming. How dare he throw her unplanned pregnancy in her face?

While she listened to the two guys discussing the military, her mind drifted back to the night her brother had referred to.

It’d been her last night with Matt before he left for advanced training. They’d gotten a room at the Hilton so they could spend the evening alone. They should’ve known just holding each other wouldn’t be enough.

She’d kicked off her shoes and lounged on the bed while Matt called room service for dinner. When he hung up the phone, he settled next to her and slid his arms around her. She tipped her head, exposing her throat to the exquisite pleasure of his hot mouth nibbling her neck.

“Oh, Matt.” Her breaths came in short little gasps.

Cupping her breast, he teased her nipple through the fabric of her bra and blouse, making her squirm. “You like that, Sweetheart?”

“Oh, yes.” Ever since things had gotten out of control on their first date, Matt had kept a tight rein on their relationship. He’d been adamant about not putting his hands under her clothing again. “I love you.” She moaned softly.

“I love you, too.” Tumbling her back on the bed, he covered her body with his while his mouth moved ravenously over hers, sucking and nipping hungrily. He drew back and gazed down into her eyes. “When your hair spreads out all around you like this, it looks like a golden halo.” He ran his fingers through her tresses and buried his face in them, breathing in deeply. “You smell so good. Please don’t ever cut your hair.”

The top three buttons of her blouse gave way to his plucking fingers. He slid the neck of her top aside and feasted on her shoulder. Whimpering, she clutched at his shirt and ran her hands up his hard chest, aching to feel his warm skin against hers.

Eyes closed, he gritted his teeth and squeezed her closer. His stiff arousal pressed against her, reminding her of what he’d given up for her.

Before his graduation, she’d attended a party at Princeton with Matt and had met his friends. All evening, she’d overheard the guys teasing him about the decline of his sex life. It’d been three months since they’d met. How would he feel about her after six months of cold showers?

A sudden knock on the door made them both flinch. “Room service.”

Apparently they’d been making out a lot longer than it had seemed.

He let the waiter in and watched while the man set out their dinner. Matt slipped the fellow a tip as he left and then pulled out a chair for her at the small table. After cutting into his T-bone, he tossed his fork down. “Damn it. I should know better than to order a steak from room service.”

“What’s wrong?”

“I ordered it medium
well
. This is still mooing.” He shoved the platter aside and stabbed his fork into his salad. Matt hated it when he paid for a meal and they didn’t serve the food the way he’d requested it.

“Do you wanna try mine? It hasn’t moved on my plate, so I’m pretty sure it’s dead.”

He peered at her steak. “No, that’s not much better. Don’t worry. There’s plenty of other things to fill up on. I’ll just leave the meat.”

After eating his salad, baked potato, dinner rolls, and chocolate cake, he smoked a cigarette while she finished her meal. Staring into her eyes, he told her how much he was going to miss her. Her throat tightened at hearing the tenderness in his voice.

She wanted to make love with him before he left.

After dinner, while he pushed the cart into the hallway and put out the Do Not Disturb sign, she stripped off her blouse, trembling.

He closed the door and sucked in a sharp breath, his gaze locked on her lacy bra. “Sweetheart, please. Put your top back on. I don’t have that much control.”

“Matt,” she croaked past the constriction in her throat. “I w-want you to make love to me.” She slid her shaking fingers over the fabric stretched taut across his broad chest and up his neck’s corded muscles.

Squeezing his eyes shut, he held her away from himself. “Then why are you shaking like we’re shooting a scene for a horror flick? You’re not ready to go to bed with me, yet.”

“Maybe I’m a little scared, but I’d be just as nervous if I were older.”

The night she’d attended the party with him she’d met several of the beautiful young women who hung around Princeton in the hope of catching an Ivy-league husband. They’d made it clear they’d been with Matt numerous times and would jump into bed with him again in a second if he so much as looked at them.

“I don’t want you to go away and sleep with someone else.”

He pulled her to him and ground his mouth urgently into hers. “Oh, Baby,” he murmured, “I promise, I won’t.” His hands skimmed down her bare back and slipped under the waistband of her jeans. Kneading her bottom, he pulled her tightly against his erection. “This is insane. You’re so young. I shouldn’t do this.”

“I know. But do it anyway.” She threw his words from the night they’d met back at him. “Please. If you leave without making love to me, I’m afraid you’ll forget about me.”

“Not possible.” He chuckled. “You think sleeping with me will brand me as yours?”

“Yes,” she whispered, unbuttoning his shirt and pushing it off his shoulders.

“You’ve got nothing to worry about, Sweetheart.” He scattered kisses over her face and neck, panting as he slid her slacks down her hips. “I’m going to love you whether we have sex or not,” he whispered.

“I wish I could believe that.”

“You’d never doubt it if you knew how you scare the hell out of me.”

“
I
scare
you
?” She stared at him, awed that such a confident guy could feel as unsure as she did.

“Yes, damn it. I’ve never felt this way about anyone else. Before you came along, I believed I was invincible and could conquer the world. Now, I live in constant terror you’ll realize I’m not good enough for you.”

“Of course you are.” She drew back and caressed his cheek. “I love you.”

Burying his face in her hair, he laughed softly. “This is downright comical. Four months ago, I couldn’t get my pants off fast enough when a girl gave me the green light. Now, all I can think about is why I shouldn’t take the woman I love to bed.”

She dropped her gaze to his straining zipper. “You have protection, don’t you?” She sensually raked her nails through the light dusting of hair on his chest.