Truly Madly Deeply Boxed Set (43 page)

He’d miss a lot of things. “Carly.”

She turned at the sound of her name. “Hi.”

“Hi.”

She didn’t smile. “Well, how’d it go?”

“Everything’s fine. Back to normal.”

She let out a sigh of obvious relief. “He came to apologize, and you know, I believe he meant it.”

Mike sat down next to her.

“So you’re on speaking terms again. I’d never forgive myself for coming between brothers.”

“You are something special, sweetheart.”

She blushed. Her face turned a shade deeper than the lobsters they’d shared. “Did I ever mention how much I like it when you blush?”

She laid her chin on bent knees. “You have a way of doing that to me.”

“If you’re talking about last night, I’d love to do it again.” His hand came to rest on the back of her neck and he massaged the back of her skull with his thumb. But instead of relaxing, she grew stiff and unyielding beneath the innocent touch.

He swallowed a groan. He had an uphill battle ahead of him and he refused to draw back. Not because he wanted to sleep with her again, but because she had to learn that passion between two people could be a wonderful thing.

“So he really forgave us?” she asked.

“After cheating on you, he really can’t pass judgment. And you two are over, remember? You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Depends on your perspective. I can’t believe we jumped into bed without ever considering the consequences. We should have given some thought to Peter’s reaction before we jeopardized your relationship by getting involved. And the fact that we didn’t is telling.”

It sure was. Mike had no illusions. Carly’s emotional withdrawal now wasn’t aimed at protecting Peter, but herself. “Getting involved. Is that what you’d call it?”

“Yes. Wouldn’t you?”

“Hell, no. We had sex. Isn’t that what you’re trying to say? A purely physical relationship, no strings, no ties, no caring involved.”

She winced at his blunt description of what they’d shared, and at that moment Mike hated himself for hurting her. But he knew damn well what she was thinking. That by keeping their relationship on a purely sexual plane, she could equate it to her father’s affair... and all the subsequent pain it had caused. Instead of facing what she felt for him, she’d run far and fast.

A part of him didn’t blame her. He was no safer than his brother for her sense of security. He couldn’t be the hearth-and-home kind of man she needed, yet he couldn’t leave things alone. “Just sex,” he said again. “Am I right?”

Carly licked at her dry lips. “Sounds reasonable to me.” But it didn’t. Hearing Mike’s passionless, uncaring description of what they’d shared cut deep. Yet his words stated what she had forced herself to believe was the proper way to categorize their relationship. The safest way to avoid complications like this afternoon. The easiest way to let him go when he decided it was time to return to his nomadic, dangerous way of life. It was her heart that refused to cooperate and believe.

“Very generous of you.” He leaned back on his elbows. “You know, Carly, you aren’t fooling me.”

“That’s good, because I wasn’t trying to.”

“You’re afraid to let yourself feel. So you label us with the one thing that scares you above all else, you beat yourself up for acting selfishly like your father and you run. Far and fast instead of facing the truth.”

“Which is?” she asked, with pure sarcasm lacing her voice. “Since you know so much about running, you’d have to be right. So what truth is it that you think I’m afraid of?”

His hand cupped her chin and he met her gaze. “That if you look
us
in the eye, you’ll see a lot more than just sex... and that scares you a hell of a lot more than a lust-filled relationship you can walk away from unscathed.”

She jerked her face out of his grasp. “You’re damn right it does. You’re out of here at the first phone call, so why the hell should I look deeper? Why the hell should I let myself care?” Without waiting for an answer, she jumped to her feet.

Mike rose but remained silent. Obviously he knew he couldn’t fight the truth.

With her vision blurred, Carly ran for the house. More than once she stumbled on the sand and rocks in her path, but she kept going. She flung open the door to the house. Feeling out of breath and desperate for peace from her rampaging emotions, she sought the security of home.

Instead she ran into Peter. “Just what I needed,” she muttered under her breath. They might have resolved their issues, but he was the last person she wanted to see right then.

She wiped the tears still running down her cheeks with the back of her hand.

“Carly...”

“Not now, Peter. You apologized, I apologized. Now let it be.”

“I was just leaving.” He glanced at her face and his brow furrowed. “You’ve been crying.”

“It’s been known to happen.”

“Has it ever happened over me?” he asked.

She rolled her eyes. “For crying out loud, can we just...”

“I’ll take that as a no. Whatever Mike said, just forgive him. It’s obvious you care about each other.”

She narrowed her eyes. “You figured that out based on the five minutes we all spent together in the kitchen?”

“We were friends before we made the mistake of getting engaged. I’d like to think I knew you pretty well. And I know that even though you broke up with me, what I did hurt you. Just remember one thing.”

She swallowed hard. “What’s that?”

“Mike isn’t me.”

“Thanks,” she murmured, then attempted to duck around him.

“Carly, wait.”

She sighed. “Make it quick.”

His lips formed a wry smile. “I know my brother better than anyone. Everything he’s done since he’s been back proves one thing to me.”

“What’s that?” she asked, truly curious.

“He loves you. Think about that.” Peter opened the side door leading to the beach and slipped out, shutting it behind him.

Carly stood in mute silence, Peter’s words wrapping around her heart. Even if he was right, it couldn’t make one bit of difference.

* * *

Carly spent the rest of the day in her room sorting through mail sent by her editor. Periodically she would glance out the window only to discover Peter’s rental car still parked on the street out front. Though she wondered when he would leave, she was glad Mike had time alone with his brother. As for her conversation with Mike, she preferred not to dwell on it for now.

She slit open a purple envelope and read the contents. The letter was brief and to the point.

I’m sixteen and pregnant. I haven’t told anyone. I can’t decide what to do and the problem is affecting every part of my life. I can’t sleep, can’t study for summer school, and no one has patience with my mood swings. Help.

Carly’s answer was easy to formulate, but as this young girl would find out, even harder to carry through.

The first thing to do is seek medical attention, as prenatal care is of paramount importance. The next is to tell the people closest to you. Perhaps your parents, the baby’s father, a teacher or local clergyman. If you don’t talk, you can’t expect to come to any meaningful decisions. Only after you face your fears will they seem less overwhelming. Then you can make the right decisions for yourself and your baby. Good luck.

Carly realized the irony in her answer. Talk out your answers. Face your fears. The one thing she advocated for this young girl was the one thing she hadn’t been permitted to do. Talk. Perhaps if she had, she wouldn’t be in such a sorry state now.

She finished punching the keys in the computer just as she heard a knock. After saving her document, she opened the door and glanced down the empty hall. But at her feet, she found a fast-food restaurant bag with a note taped to the brown parcel. “Be angry with me later. For now take the time to eat.”

How could she be angry with Mike when he put her feelings first, always? She knew she had overreacted earlier, but with his leaving imminent, and his return as uncertain as their future, her nerves were on edge.

Inside the bag she discovered a large vanilla shake, a burger and fries. Apparently Mike had reworked the old adage, the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. He had certainly reached this woman’s heart with his kind gesture.

Actually he had reached hers long before this. She munched on a french fry, pausing to lick the salt and grease off her fingers. She had decided not to fight the attraction for the short time they had left.

“Coast is clear.” Mike’s voice sounded through the bedroom door along with a loud knock. Startled, she glanced at her watch. Hours had passed. It was half past seven.

“Come in,” she called without looking up.

“I thought Pete would never leave,” Mike said. And if he hadn’t threatened bodily harm, he might still be hanging around.

Carly didn’t answer. She had changed into a flowered dress that wrapped around her body and reminded him of sunshine and happiness. Her head bent, she tapped away on her laptop computer keys. “I wasn’t hiding out,” she said at last, still without looking up.

“Could have fooled me.” A quick glance around the room revealed piles of documents, reference books and the crumpled brown lunch bag. “You get a lot done today?” he asked.

She glanced up. “Pretty much.” Her gaze darted around the room, but she had yet to look him in the eye.

“Maybe I should have Pete come by more often. His presence seems to stimulate you.”

“What?” Her startled gaze met his.

“Your mind,” he said with a grin. “Stimulate your mind.” He tapped his head and laughed. At least she’d finally looked him straight on.

“Oh.”

She flushed, a reaction that inevitably reminded him of their first meeting. And their first kiss. Which led to even more intimate memories. “How was the burger?” he asked, more to distract himself than anything else.

“Greasy.” Her face turned a darker shade of pink. “I mean good. Thanks for thinking of me.”

He shrugged. “Not a problem. I’m always thinking of you.” He crossed the room until he stood next to her.

Her eyes locked with his. Every time he looked into that brown-eyed gaze, her vulnerability hit him hard.

“I’m sorry about what happened earlier,” she said. “I have no excuse and I apologize. We both know where things stand. I have no right to toss it back in your face.”

He crouched down and took her hand in his. “Our first fight is nothing to apologize for.” His thumb methodically worked the pulse point in her wrist, massaging in slow but deliberate circles. When her pulse rate jumped, he smiled in satisfaction.

“Why not?”

“An occasional argument is a healthy sign. Any good psychologist knows that.”

He raised his eyes in time to catch her grin and flick her tongue over her lips. Nervous energy radiated from her and he waited for the gesture he associated with Carly. Any minute now, he thought. She brushed her bangs out of her eyes. Bingo. He suppressed a laugh. Never having had such an emotional connection before, it still amazed him that he could read another person so well.

“Is that the only reason?” she asked.

“No.”

“What’s the other?” Her voice sounded unusually husky and he guessed she had figured out reason number two.

Their mental connection amazed him. “I’m not above relying on old standbys. Making up is half the fun.” He tugged on her arm and yanked her toward him. She came forward fast, and together they toppled to the floor.

Carly landed on top of him in an indelicate sprawl. He brushed his mouth over hers.

“Mike.” Her breath was as moist and sweet as his name on her lips.

“What?” he asked, trailing kisses along her jaw-line.

“Have you given any thought to when you’ll...” Before she could voice the question that had been plaguing him, he silenced her with his lips. His tongue plunged into her warm mouth and he savored the heated sensation.

But even their intimate joining couldn’t stop the remnants of her question from nagging at him.
Have you given any thought to when you’ll be leaving?
The notion was almost more than he could bear. He would go because he had to... but not without leaving a part of himself behind.

Surprising him, she took an aggressive role, her tongue slipping between his lips. She greedily drew from him as much as she gave. His lower body responded in kind. Given their positions, she had to notice. Apparently she did. She wriggled off him and began unfastening his jeans with trembling hands.

Mike took a moment to study her. Her face was flushed and her lips glistened with moisture. His gaze slid lower. Her nipples puckered against the light flowered fabric. The evidence of her desire fueled his own.

“I never thought I’d agree to this again,” she murmured.

“Oh, sweetheart, we’re inevitable.”

Her slender fingers shook as they grasped his zipper. That small involuntary movement hit him like a body blow. She was frantic, yes, but something more was involved. Something she’d been reluctant to admit.

He realized that he’d been more on target than he thought that afternoon. Like him, she too cared more than she wanted to. More than she was even conscious of.

He covered her fingers with his own, steadying the tremors in her hand. Together they made quick work of his jeans and briefs, sending them to a pile on the floor.

Mike didn’t kid himself. His self-control had deserted him long ago. Only one thought occupied his mind—burying himself so deep inside her, he wouldn’t know where he left off and she began. He lifted her dress and yanked the small scrap of lace down around her legs.

She gasped and Mike forced himself to stop. Their eyes met. If he’d frightened her, he’d pull back now. Somehow.

“I...” She hesitated.

“You what?” His words sounded more like a groan. If she wanted to stop, now was the time. A few seconds more and he doubted he’d be capable. “Say it.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck. “I want you,” she whispered. “Now.”

After that there was no need for words. He rolled on his back, pulling her on top of him. Though he lacked the restraint necessary to move to a bed, he’d be damned if he’d bruise her soft body against the hard floor.