Wish on the Moon (24 page)

With Mitch inside of her, Laura lost all
sense of time and place. She embraced the happiness and knew only
Mitch. Their mouths clung as passion met passion and she rose to
the summit of a glorious mountain. Up. Up. Up. Until she tumbled
over the edge.

When she landed, Mitch held her in his arms
and she snuggled closer, not wanting the loving to end.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Friday afternoon Mitch stared at the sketch
in his hand. Satisfied, he laid it on the worktable. He'd come back
to Harrisburg for the day to help with the Christmas crunch, but
his sales team was adequately handling the steady flow of
customers. So, he'd escaped to work on this. The gems he intended
to use winked up at him--eleven midnight blue sapphires, one
pear-shaped blue diamond. It would be a stunning ring.

And he was going to have a stunning weekend.
He'd made a decision Thanksgiving Day. If he and Laura only had two
weeks, they were going to be the best damn two weeks of their
lives. This was the closest to happy he'd ever been. He'd thought
the business was all he wanted or needed in life. Since Laura, he
knew better. After she left...

She'd be back for visits. It wouldn't be the
same as... A little voice whispered, If she stayed. Mitch squelched
the sound. She'd bring light and freshness into his life whenever
she came back. That would be enough.

The voice became louder and asked, Would
it?

***

The following Thursday morning snow began
falling. And fell, and fell, fast and heavy. At mid-afternoon,
Laura stared out the store's window at the deserted street. The
snow made her think about Christmas. Wouldn't it be wonderful to
spend it here with Mitch? They'd spent the past six days never far
apart. And Sunday afternoon at his apartment had been...wonderful,
exciting, and bittersweet.

The thought of leaving Mitch...and her
father... Her dad had seemed depressed the past week. She'd read
that was normal after heart surgery. He was feeling better but
still couldn't do what he wanted to do, like driving and coming in
to work. Hopefully his check-up would be a good one and he could at
least think about coming to the store for a few hours at a time.
Immersed in his business for most of his life, inactivity wasn't
easy for him to handle. Without Mandy and Nora he'd probably be
even more restless and depressed.

A pang of guilt stung Laura. Did her decision
not to stay have anything to do with his depression? She hoped not
but knew it was probably a contributing factor. If Mitch would
realize what they could mean to each other...

A chill ran up her spine when she thought
about something she'd been trying not to think about. What if this
relationship was purely physical for him? What if he only
experienced the chemistry, not the feelings? What if that's all
he'd let himself feel? Why, oh why, had she fallen in love with a
man who might be afraid of loving?

That train of thought was hopeless. She had
fallen in love with him, with his strength, protectiveness, and
caring. She'd always needed those qualities in her life. Her dad
had possessed strength, but not the tenderness or understanding
that accompanied Mitch's. Doug had given her freedom and acceptance
but not protection and dependability. With him she'd always felt
they lived on the edge.

But after Mandy was born, Laura knew she
needed more. She had a daughter to love and safeguard. Living for
excitement and thrills didn't fit anymore. She'd changed after the
birth of her daughter. Doug hadn't. With Mandy depending on her,
Laura had longed for someone she could depend on.

She could depend on Mitch. That was as sure a
fact as the sun coming up tomorrow. She thought about Carey and how
different the two brothers seemed to be. Again she remembered the
confidence she was keeping. She should tell Mitch Carey had
borrowed money from Nora. But what good would the telling do except
drive the two men farther apart? There was still the chance Carey
would reconsider his strategy.

"Do you wish on snowflakes too?"

Mitch had come up behind her. She smiled as
she turned around. "Sometimes."

He grinned. "Let's go home and build a
snowman. Mandy will love it."

"What about you?"

"I haven't built one in years. It'll be
fun."

Laura was delighted that the word "fun" was
now part of his vocabulary. At home, Mitch helped her bundle Mandy
in a double pair of pants, hat, winter coat, scarf and mittens. The
three of them rolled a giant snowman and with Mitch holding Mandy
at the snowman's head, she poked in a carrot nose, and two stone
eyes. When Laura suggested they create a snowwoman too, Mandy lost
interest and ran inside to see if Nora had finished baking a batch
of chocolate chip cookies.

Flakes were still falling intermittently and
the sky was darkening with evening's onset.

"It's you and me, kid," Mitch tossed over his
shoulder before he stooped to mold a small ball.

Laura bent to do the same.

And quickly jumped up when she felt something
cold and wet on her neck.

Mitch was standing a few feet away. She
wriggled from the icy discomfort and called, "You'll be sorry. Just
you wait."

He chuckled and kept his distance. "You
looked so tempting. I couldn't help it. I'm sorry, honest I am."
His smug smirk said he wasn't sorry at all.

Laura pretended indifference as she peered
through the swarm of snowflakes and watched Mitch diligently add
snow to his ball. While he was busy with his task, she quickly
fortified herself with three well-packed snowballs.

"Hey, Mitch," she called playfully.

He turned to face her and she threw the three
torpedoes in rapid fire order, one of them catching him on the
shoulder, another in the middle of his chest. She pictured his
intent immediately and sprinted away. He chased after her with long
lithe strides despite the snow drifts. She eluded his first attempt
to catch her, but not the second.

He dove for her leg, tripping her and
toppling them both into the marshmallow-soft snow. He pinned her
beneath his long torso as the snow caught on his brows and
lashes.

"Say you're sorry," he insisted, the heat
from his jeans branding her legs in spite of the cold. "Then maybe
I'll let you go with just a warning this time."

His hot breath warmed her nose. "Never." She
grinned puckishly, her own words making a puff of white smoke in
the frigid air. "You deserved it," she added as she struggled to
wiggle out from under him. "You put snow down my back," she accused
with righteous indignation.

"But I apologized!" He was obviously enjoying
her predicament and her sinuous movement. "Now you have to
apologize or..."

"Or what?" Laura asked with suspicion,
fascinated by the silver sparkle in his eyes.

"Or I'll have to do something drastic. Like
this," he said as he placed a light kiss on her lips. "And this,"
he repeated, his next kiss a little longer. After the third kiss,
Mitch released her hands and lifted his head as breathless as she
was. "That was quite an apology."

An apology her foot. She brought her hand
between them and cupped him. "An apology? Is that really what you
want?"

He sucked in a breath. "Laura Marie--"

"Yes?" she asked sweetly, not stopping for a
moment.

"You wouldn't want me to...er...embarrass
myself."

"If I give you pleasure, that doesn't
matter."

He sank down tight against her to still her
hand. "It matters because I want to pleasure you too. I can't do
that here. So if I can't..." He kissed her hard. "You can't." He
pushed himself away and held out his hand to pull her up.

She gripped his hand. "I've decided where I
want to take you to pay you back for the coat."

"Uh oh. I don't like that twinkle in your
eye."

"There's a new club in the west end. I'm
taking you dancing."

"Laura--"

"Trust me. You'll have fun. Mark your
calendar for Saturday night."

He looked dubious but answered, "All right.
I'll go. But if after one fast dance I look ridiculous..."

"You won't. You have a great sense of
rhythm."

The grin started in his eyes and spread to
his mouth. "You're a handful. You know that?"

"And proud of it." She let him pull her up.
Maybe Saturday night would be the night he asked her to stay and
share his life.

***

Laura wished she had a camera. Mitch's face
was a study in controlled neutrality as they made their way through
the dancing throng at a popular club. With his hand on her waist,
he led her to a barrel-shaped table in a corner as far removed from
the dance floor as he could manage. The music blared throughout the
room, pouring over the oval bar area as easily as the dance
floor.

He stood behind the heavy chair and pushed it
in for her, his navy suit coat swaying on either side of her as he
leaned forward. She sucked in a breath--cologne, soap, and Mitch.
Cool your jets, kid. You're here to teach Mitch dancing can be
fun.

When he sat down across from her, his
neutrality slipped

for a moment in favor of a look of sheer
discomfort.

She tapped his knuckles. "I promise this will
be painless."

His grin was apologetic. "I've only been in a
place like this once or twice. It feels...strange."

"You and Denise never went dancing?"

"No."

"What did you do?"

He wiggled his brows. "Wouldn't you like to
know?"

Her mouth dropped open.

He chuckled and tweaked her nose.
"Gotcha."

She was seeing his sense of humor emerge more
often. "Are you trying to tell me to mind my own business?"

He took her hand and folded his fingers
around hers. "There's no deep dark secret. We went to the movies.
We played Wii. Actually we weren't together that much. She went her
way. I went mine. It's what we both wanted."

She could push a little. Just a little. "What
do you want now?"

A shadow crossed his face. "I want to spend
all the time I can with you before you leave."

Well, she'd asked for it.

The waitress spotted her two new customers
and came to take their order. As she made her way back to the bar
to get two club sodas with twists of lime, Mitch leaned close to
Laura. "You'd look great in that outfit."

Laura's eyes followed the waitress. Her black
satin short shorts and halter top molded to her like a second skin.
"You'd like me to wear it dancing?" she asked with a flirting
grin.

He growled in her ear. "No way. Bedroom
only."

The possessiveness in his eyes excited her.
Desire coalesced into a tight ball in her tummy. She licked dry
lips. Mitch's gaze followed the trail of her tongue.

The driving beat of the music ended and a
slower rhythm took its place. Mitch stood and offered his hand to
Laura. "We can start out slow, can't we?"

"Slow was good the last time we tried
it."

His blue eyes said he remembered that night
in his apartment very well.

On the dance floor, he enclosed her near his
body, crossing his hands at the back of her waist. Her arms ringed
his neck.

He ducked his head to her ear. "Have I told
you how beautiful you look tonight?"

He had a talent for making her feel beautiful
and feminine and delicate. Her dress was a mysterious color of
teal, blue in one light, green in another. Its scooped cowl neck
draped along her collarbone. The dress was one of her favorites.
She was pleased he liked it.

Laura let her hand drag from the back of his
neck, down the placket of his white shirt to his waist. "You look
pretty good yourself." Seeing him, smelling him, having him this
close sent her pulse leaping.

His eyes twinkled with amusement. "You'd
better watch where you put your hands or we could get into
trouble."

She returned her hand to its previous
position. "I'm an expert at getting into trouble."

His thighs pressed against hers, subtly
guiding their motion. "I know. But I'm beginning to like your brand
of trouble." His thumb traced the shell of her ear and she
shivered. He noticed her response and a smile whispered across his
lips. "You're incredible."

"Because I can't control my reaction to
you?"

"Because you don't try. You don't hide what
you feel."

Laura's body followed Mitch's instinctively.
Dancing with him was almost like making love. She scanned his face,
watching his eyes darken to deep ocean blue.

Mitch's breath warmed her neck as he caught
her earlobe between his lips. Her knees wobbled. While his one arm
maneuvered them into the midst of dancing couples, his other slid
between their bodies to the fullness of her breast.

"I love touching you," he breathed.

Her nipples peaked as her breasts grew taut.
He'd used "love." That was the first time. Not quite in the context
she wanted it, but it was a start. Just as his fingers were
starting something they couldn't finish here.

Her breath caught. "I think we'd better watch
where you put your hands."

His voice was low and husky. "Are you telling
me to behave?"

"I guess so," she said wistfully as she laid
her head under his chin, but the pressure of his hips against hers
triggered an avalanche of erotic thoughts.

They broke apart when the music stopped, but
Laura immediately snatched Mitch's arm before he could go back to
the table. "Wait."

He waited, but with a frown. When a staccato
thump beat on the drums, Laura advised, "Relax. Just let every part
of you feel the music."

With the same strength of purpose as he
attacked any problem, Mitch closed his eyes for a moment to do what
Laura said. He opened them again and moved tentatively at first.
When he moved his hips, they smoothly gyrated with the rhythm of
his feet. One strong shoulder rolled back away from her, then the
other. He was a natural, possessing the ease of an athlete,
coordinating all the members of his body. She could picture him
naked--synchronizing his movement to hers. Heat oozed through her
like hot honey.