Realization cold-cocked him. This was her old neighborhood, her old house. He pulled alongside the curb and slid the Jeep into neutral.
Holy crap, crime paid well. Even in the dark of night with only the stars and a couple of security lights, he could see she'd lived in one helluva place during her time here as Mrs.
Haugen. Two stories, the house was easily four thousand square feet of fairly new construction to go with those columns and wraparound porch.
He would never be able to give a wife anything close to this. Not that he was thinking in those terms about the woman next to him. Sure he wanted to get married someday when the right one came along, but he and Paige had never discussed there being anything beyond next week.
Still, he tried to reconcile his image of the practical woman next to him in that house.
He'd seen enough of her brother's faltering business to know she was more than pulling her weight around there, and he'd never heard her complain.
His mind tripped over a question he hadn't considered before. How badly did Vic need money?
"I forgot about the flowers."
Her amazed whisper closed off other thoughts.
"What about the flowers?"
"Kirstie and I planted flowers just like those." She nodded toward the overflowing bed of marigolds shaded by taller daffodils. "And she and I had picnics under that oak tree by the azalea bush. She had little friends here, too, and they raced bikes along the sidewalks."
"All the things kids should do."
"Memories that have nothing to do with Kurt and his damn money." She sagged back in her seat, her thumb toying with the collar of her shirt.
His shirt.
Lust tightened inside him with an urgency to claim her as his, totally separate from this world. "You and Kirstie are well on your way to making more happy memories in a new place."
"I know. But I needed to see this. I needed to know that I didn't screw everything up, that her years here weren't a total mistake."
"She's a good kid. That doesn't happen overnight."
"A good kid who thinks a case of sunburn must be rubella."
"A good kid who's had a rough year, but is putting everything back together just like her mama. I happen to think both you ladies have done a damn fine job."
"Thank you." Her eyes darted as if taking in everything one last time to record each detail. "And thank you for bringing me here so I could remember all those good things Kirstie and I did together."
"What about her father?" He couldn't resist asking.
"He always said he loved her, like in the letter." Shuddering, she skimmed her hands along her bare arms in spite of the eighty-degree evening. "How awful is it to be relieved I never have to show the hypocrisy to Kirstie?"
"Where does he play into those memories you have of this house?"
Yeah, yeah, he knew he had a selfish reason for wondering. Major "duh" moment. He was less than an hour from being with this woman. She'd said she didn't love the scumbag anymore, but she must have at some time. Had that love stopped in the police station? Or earlier, as Vic had hinted?
It mattered to him right now, a helluva lot.
"He was obsessed with getting ahead with his restaurant so he could give us more. We really didn't see him all that often, and if he made it to preschool plays or gymnastic shows, he came late and spent half the time on his cell phone. I used to think if we had more time together, I could figure out what was wrong with him, me, the way I was feeling about him. Or rather, the way I wasn't feeling anymore."
Vic had told him the same thing about her faltering relationship with Haugen, but it felt damn good hearing the words from her mouth. It also gave him a few more ideas on how to romance this woman the way she deserved.
"Silly me, I thought I just had a workaholic husband like most everyone else in the neighborhood. I used to joke he took his cell phone and pager into bed with him."
She tried for a smile. No luck.
Paige glanced down at her lap, tracing a purple flower on the shirt before sucking in a brave breath and meeting him eye-to-eye. "I haven't been with anyone except Kurt."
The conversational shift jolted through him. Then understanding followed about her reasoning for this detour. Listening would definitely work best here because one misstep would cause far more pain than just an end to their evening plans. He stayed silent and let his touch speak reassurance for him by tunneling into her hair to cup her head.
"All I have to go by is sex with a man who had no morals. How ewww is that?"
There was no answer he could offer up so he continued a slow stroke of his thumb along her neck, a non-threatening touch to let her know he was still here. Serious brown eyes stared back at him, brave and determined eyes that made him more than a little sad because making love shouldn't have to be this serious and fearsome.
"Okay, Bo, here it is, straight up. I'm afraid that even as much as I want you, sex could have been ruined for me because it's somehow associated with him, who he was and what he did. I need you to reassure me."
"With sex?" Did she want him as some sort of therapeutic fling? Or did she want him?
She crinkled her nose. "Maybe that didn't come out quite right. I didn't mean to sound so...clinical about it all. Let me try again."
It was tough to be insulted when she was being so sweet and earnest. "I'm all ears."
"You are the most honorable, charming and giving man I've ever met. And that's saying a lot considering I think my brother and Seth are really great guys. And of course you're hot as hell and not a relative."
"That last part's definitely a plus." He shrugged off the compliments he wasn't sure fit with a joke.
A smile lit her eyes as much as the stars glinting off her gold glasses. "I need to move forward with my life, and while sex shouldn't be everything, I think the longer I wait to figure this out, the more I'm going to worry and freeze up inside."
She gripped his shirtfront, twisting, her small fist resting against his chest. "And, God, please say something soon, before I absolutely die of embarrassment. I thought men wanted the chance at uncomplicated sex."
"Lady." He paused, shaking his head. "There isn't one thing about you that's uncomplicated. And that's one of the many things I like about you."
"So all my babbling there made sense somehow?"
"Absolutely." Easing back with a quick, tender-as-he-could-make-it kiss, he shifted the Jeep into gear.
Later he would think about the fact that he didn't feel much like the man she described. In spite of his countless flaws he recognized well, he'd always prided himself on never starting a relationship if it didn't stand at least a chance of going somewhere. For the first time, he was about to break his rule.
Because no way in hell could he turn his back on the chance to be with this woman even just once.
Chapter 12
Outside Bo's house, Paige grappled for the Jeep's door handle while chanting in her head that she could do this, she would do this. She wanted this, him, all of it, so don't think.
Do not think. After a mad dash across town for privacy— a mad dash across the country since they'd left North Dakota, for that matter—finally they were alone.
Bo grazed her arm with his knuckles. "Sit tight. I'll be right around."
To open the door for her? Old-fashioned, but sweet nonetheless. Although, she hoped he would hurry before she thought too much about all the embarrassing things she'd told him while sitting outside her old house. She watched Bo through the windshield as he sprinted around the hood with a speed and obvious urgency that sent a jolt of anticipation through her.
He swept the door open, dropped his keys in her hands and scooped her out of the front seat, startling a surprised yelp from her as she grabbed his shoulders for balance. "You're crazy."
"For you? Hell, yeah." He charged up the front walk to his house carrying her, stars dancing overhead as she jostled. "Unlock the door, would ya? Use the key with the red-tape marking."
"You could put me down."
"Or you could just open the door so we can get inside sooner."
"Fair enough. One red-tape key coming up."
Once inside, he slid her down along the front of him until there was no mistaking how very much he wanted her. "Finally."
"Finally," she echoed against his mouth.
Looping her arms around his neck, she urged his head down and took the most from the moment as fully as she took his mouth, his kiss, the heat of more dry lightning and want that had been building for weeks. Even longer perhaps, years since she'd indulged in fantasies of a man and a moment just like this.
Bo skimmed more kisses along her cheek, up into her hair until he nuzzled in that way he had of catching her fragrance, which sent a whole new shiver through her. Thank goodness she'd allowed herself the silly vanity of jasmine-scented shampoo and loose hair for the evening.
Her hands climbed inside his shirt to hold him closer, and yes, to feel the warmth of his skin. "I think it's time we test out your sexual peaking theory."
"With any luck," he paused, inhaling along her neck, "there's going to be plenty of peaking going on soon."
"How soon?" She arched to look up at him, which happened to bring her h*ps closer to his, cradling the hard ridge of his obvious desire against her stomach with delicious intimacy.
"Not too soon, I hope. Although if you keep wriggling like that..." He groaned, backing her toward the hall, his arms linked around her waist guiding her along with him in a sort of tuneless dance toward his bedroom.
She'd showered in the guest bath earlier while he was in his room, so there hadn't been time to see more of where he lived. Although in seconds she would be seeing far more of him.
He toed open the door. "Time to live in the moment. No intrusions or interruptions."
They crossed the threshold into his room, the ardent caress of his hands beneath her shirt leaving little rational thought to register much of her surroundings beyond the queen-size bed, a framed Hard Rock Cafe poster...and yes, yes, yes, a sprawling bed with an inviting red-striped comforter.
And had she mentioned the big bed? "No interruptions?"
"None." He backed from her slowly, hands touching until the very...last...second.
She almost moaned at the loss of his touch. If her knees went this weak over a few kisses, she would be a serious mess soon. She sagged to the edge of his bed, watching with curiosity as he strode across the room and swept aside the mini-blinds. Bo jerked open the window, reached to unclip his cell phone and...
Pitched it outside.
"Ohmigod!" She collapsed onto her elbows into the soft give of down filling. "I can't believe you just did that."
"Oh, yeah? Then you probably won't believe this, either." He scooped up the telephone from the bedside table and yanked.
The wire popped from the wall.
A delicious shiver tickled up her spine. Sure it was a macho show and the phone in the next room was still in working order. But, oh, my, it was a wonderfully romantic gesture because it showed he'd listened to her about Kurt's workaholic distance.
Kurt had lavished her with everything from body oils to expensive lingerie, even a roomful of roses and a tray of fresh oysters once, all in an attempt to be good to her. He'd vowed he wanted to shower her with everything, yet always withheld the one thing she craved most, his sole focus.
Her husband could have been seconds away from penetration, and if the phone rang or doorbell chimed, he'd skim a quick kiss while he hiked his pants back up. Now she knew she'd been second to crooks.
Not anymore. She'd made major strides in reconciling her past tonight, and she wouldn't let thoughts of that dead bastard steal even one iota of her attention. Bo deserved a hundred percent of her focus, as well.
