Uncharted Waters (9 page)

His hands trembled when he laced them with hers and drew her arms over her head. He felt her go slack against the wall. Her head went back, exposing the column of her throat. Bending his head, he kissed her there, tasting her, his tongue leaving wet trails on her soft flesh. She shivered against him, her back arching. Need coiled and snapped inside him. A short fuse connected to a keg of dynamite that was ready to blow.

He wanted to explore every inch of her with his hands, with his eyes, with his mouth. He wanted to be inside her. Her body. Her mind. Her heart. She'd been inside him for so long, it was as if she were already a part of him, every bit as vital as his heart or his lungs. The need built inside him like a flow of melted rock, red-hot and trapped within the earth, ready to burst in an explosion of heat.

He'd wanted her even when she was with Rick. He'd wanted her after she'd taken her vows and married his best friend. He hated it, but he'd wanted her even after his best friend had died. Now, with his body on fire and his heart slamming against his ribs, Drew felt like a bastard. For wanting when he shouldn't. For touching when he didn't have a right. For betraying his best friend in the worst possible way a man could be betrayed.

Take care...Alison and Kevin...

Rick's last words rang inside his head. A flash of conscience jolted him. The realization of what he'd allowed to happen stopped him cold, like a vehicle crashing into a brick wall. The impact brought him out of his lust-induced trance.

Shocked by what he'd done, Drew released her abruptly and stepped back. “Hell...”

Alison shook herself as if waking from a dream. Pressing her back flat against the wall, she closed her eyes for a second, then let out a shuddery breath.

Annoyed because he'd allowed himself to cross a line he swore he'd never cross, Drew scrubbed his hand over his jaw and muttered a curse. “I'm sorry.”

“So am I,” she said quickly. “That was...really dumb.”

“I didn't exactly give you a choice.”

She raked her fingers through her hair with a trembling hand, looking everywhere but into his eyes. He watched her, all too aware that he was aroused and wanting and a hair away from crossing the distance between them and finishing what they'd begun.

When her eyes finally met his, he felt the contact like a physical touch. He wished she wouldn't look at him like that. As if the kiss had meant something to her. He wished she wouldn't look at him at all because that only made him want her.

She was so close, he could see the beads of perspiration that had popped out on her forehead. Her mouth was kiss-chafed and wet. He could see the damp trail his tongue had left on her throat. In the back of his mind he wondered how far this might have gone if his conscience hadn't interrupted.

“I shouldn't have kissed you,” she said.

“You didn't, Alison.” He sighed, disgusted with himself.

“Well, I did, actually. I just...shouldn't have kissed you like
that.
I mean, we didn't mean it
that
way.” She blinked at him. “Did we?”

If the situation hadn't been so dire, he might have
laughed. But he didn't. He'd intended the kiss exactly the way he'd delivered it. Raw and sexual and tongue to tongue. Conscience aside, the only thing he regretted now was that they hadn't finished what they started.

“I think you ought to go,” he said after another too-long moment. “I'll carry Kevin out to the car for you.”

“Drew...” She started toward him, but he stopped her with a hard look.

“Don't,” he said. “I think we'll both be better off if we just leave this alone.”

“It was a mistake. An innocent kiss that got out of hand.”

“There was nothing innocent about that kiss,” he growled.

“Let's not blow it out of proportion.”

“Where are your keys?”

She ignored the question. “I don't want this to interfere with our friendship.”

Frustrated with himself—and with her—Drew walked over to where Kevin was sleeping. “It already has.”

“I don't believe that.”

“A lot can happen in four years. I'm not the man I was before...” Because he couldn't say Rick's name and stand there and want her at the same time, he let his voice trail.

“Whatever happened...I mean, just now. Drew, we can work through it.”

“I think this is one of those things that's best left alone.”

“You don't believe that.”

He wondered if she was into some kind of denial. While he might have been the one doing most of the kissing, he'd been around the block enough times to
know when a woman was enjoying it. Alison had definitely been enjoying it. For a moment he considered pointing that out to her, then decided this would be less painful for both of them if he just let it go. If he just let
her
go and moved on with his life without her. She might have been a friend once, but things had changed. There was no going back. And there was no way in hell he could live with himself if he pursued this.

Drew looked down at the boy, relieved that he was still sleeping soundly. “Do you want me to carry him out to the car for you?”

“I don't want to leave things like this,” she said.

“You don't have a choice.” He didn't want her angry at him, but he knew there was no way to fix this without getting himself in deeper than he already was. “I've got to get ready for my next tour.”

When he didn't say anything more, she went to Kevin and set her hand on his shoulder, shook him gently. “Hey, sleepyhead. Wake up, honey. We've got to get going.”

Squinting, his hair sticking up like porcupine spikes, Kevin looked around. “Where's Drew?”

Drew forced a smile he hoped looked real. “I'm right here, sprout.”

Kevin stretched and climbed off the sofa. “Do we get to do it again tomorrow?”

Drew hesitated long enough for Alison to jump in with an appropriate answer. “Drew has customers to take care of tomorrow, sweetie. Right now you and I have to get home.”

“Why? Mommy, I want to go back out and look at the plane. Drew said I could help him with some stuff.”

Drew felt like an ogre for reneging on his promise.
During the flight he'd told Kevin he could help him inflate and check the air pressure of the floats upon their return. After what had just happened between him and Alison there was no way in hell he wanted either of them sticking around.

He glanced over at Kevin, hoping his smile looked real enough to fool a four-year-old. “Maybe you can give me a hand next time. Okay?”

“Thank Drew for taking us for the flight, sweetie.”

Looking grumpy and disgruntled, Kevin padded over to Drew. “Thanks,” he said.

Drew stuck out his hand. “Thanks for all your help.”

The little boy's chest swelled. “'Kay.”

He shook the boy's hand, telling himself it was for the best that he send them on their way now. “See ya next time.”

Alison put her hand on Kevin's shoulder and guided him toward the door. “See you tonight, Drew!” he shouted.

“Let's go, sweetie,” Alison said.

Drew watched them head for the door. He told himself things were better this way. A clean break before things got sloppy. He wanted that to make him feel better. But it didn't.

“Take care of yourself,” he said from his place at the desk.

He tried not to jolt when she closed the door in his face.

* * *

Drew figured he'd really outdone himself this time. Standing up his best friend's widow and her four-year-old son when they'd invited him for a friendly dinner was about as low as it got. But that was exactly what
he'd done, and it made him feel like the lowest form of life known to mankind.

In the span of two days he'd managed to screw up a relationship he'd held dear for six years. A relationship with a woman he admired and respected. He'd disappointed an innocent little boy who'd already endured more than his share of pain. Worse, Drew had disappointed himself. Bad news for a man whose expectations were pretty damn low to begin with.

After the fateful kiss he and Alison had shared at his office, Drew figured the most constructive thing he could do was lose himself in his work. But the tour with the four men had turned into something he hadn't expected. Halfway into the flight, they'd asked him to take a route that would have taken them directly over Evans Yachts. At that point, Drew had become suspicious that the men weren't developers at all. He wasn't sure what they were up to, but after what had happened at Evans Yachts last month, he wasn't going to take any chances. He'd ended the tour abruptly and ordered them off his plane.

He'd immediately called his adopted brother, Marcus, in Washington D.C. and filled him in. Drew had been able to get the tag number from their SUV—which had turned out to be a rental under a name Marcus was checking out. More important, Drew had retrieved a soda can one of the men had left behind. A can that could possibly provide fingerprints. At Marcus's request Drew had carefully packaged the can and sent it via overnight express.

By the time all that was done, he was already late for his dinner with Alison and Kevin. He told himself things were better if he just stayed away from them. But Alison was already inside his head. He couldn't
stop thinking about the way she'd felt in his arms. He couldn't stop thinking about the way she'd looked at him, the way her little boy had looked at him. As if he were some kind of hero. Drew was about as far removed from hero material as a man could be.

What the hell had he been thinking kissing her? She was his best friend's widow, for chrissake. A single mom with a special needs child. She had enough on her plate without him coming on to her and messing things up. How in the name of God was he supposed to do the honorable thing and walk away when she felt so good in his arms?

Drew didn't have an answer. The only thing he knew for certain was that he couldn't let things stand as they were; he didn't have a choice but to drive to her place and apologize. Not only to Alison, he realized, but to Kevin. The little boy had invited him to dinner and Drew hadn't shown up, hadn't even bothered to call. In his book, that made him a jerk.

It was nearly ten o'clock when he parked the truck curbside outside her bungalow and shut down the engine. Warm yellow light illuminated the kitchen and living room windows, giving the place the kind of warm glow his own house never seemed to have. Her Mustang was parked in the driveway next to a tan Camry. He wondered to whom the other vehicle belonged.

Trying not to feel guilty for showing up so late, wondering if she would even speak to him after what he'd done, Drew got out of the truck and walked to the front door. He used the knocker, then waited, mentally rehearsing the lines he'd practiced on the drive up from Emerald Cove.

The door swung open an instant later and an older,
cooler version of Alison appeared in the foyer, looking him over as if he were a mongrel dog with muddy paws and a homely face.

“Is Alison here?” he asked.

“You Drew?”

“Guilty,” he said, knowing he was about to get raked over some very hot coals.

She frowned. “Kevin got up seven times during dinner to see if maybe you were parked out front. He tried to call you twice, but you never answered your phone.”

The guilt was like a knife twisting just behind his solar plexus. He had to hand it to her, the lady knew where to hit a guy. “I came to apologize.”

She glanced down at her watch, not looking the least bit assuaged. “You're a few hours late.”

He met her gaze. Held it. Refused to let it go. “This won't wait until morning.”

She sighed wearily. “Look, Alison is my sister. She's been through hell in the last four years. She doesn't need some guy jerking her around. Frankly, neither does Kevin.”

“I know.”

“I don't want her hurt.”

“I'm not going to hurt her.”

“You already have.”

“I'm just a friend.” He grimaced. “I want it to stay that way.”

Giving him an I've-heard-it-all-before look, she stepped aside. “I'm Kimberly.”

“Ah, nice to meet you.”

Frowning, she shook her head. “Don't make nice with me. I'm only letting you in because for some reason that's beyond my understanding, Alison and Kevin seem to like you.”

“Okay,” he said, wondering if she was going to let him off the hook.

“Hurt her and I'll break your neck.
Capice?
”

“I got it.” Drew wondered if she was referring to the kiss or the fact that he'd stood them up, then decided it would be wiser not to ask for clarification.

“You tell a kid you're going to be there, you should be there. They see things in black and white.”

Okay, so this cool-eyed blonde probably didn't know about the kiss, he thought, and an odd sense of relief slipped through him. If she did, he doubted he would have made it through the front door. At least not without a black eye. “I'll make it up to him,” he heard himself say.

“You do that.” She looked over her shoulder. “Alison!” she yelled. “You've got a visitor!”

Drew glanced over the top of her head to see Alison walk out of the kitchen, a dish towel in her hand. “I'm right—” She stopped dead in her tracks at the sight of Drew and stood as still as a statue for the span of two heartbeats.

The first thing he noticed was that she looked surprised to see him. The second thing he noticed was that she was furious. And that the fury was directed at him. “I don't want you here.” She frowned at Kimberly as if to ask “Why did you let him in?”

“Alison...” Not sure what to say, he looked at Kimberly. When she didn't offer assistance, he stepped into the living room. That was when he noticed that Alison had been crying. Her face was pale and her eyes were red-rimmed. In the back of his mind he wondered if he were the cause of her tears. Then he realized what he saw on her face went deeper than anger, and a hot wave of concern sliced him.