Chapter 18 #2
The topic of discussion shifted. Grateful, Kale went back to watching the lady from New York. As she smiled and nodded at his father’s every comment about the weather and life in general, Kale got the distinct impression that something about Matilda’s circumstances had struck a chord with her.
He didn’t know a lot about her history, but he had a feeling that the tough city-gal exterior was just a shield she used to protect herself.
Most likely he was overanalyzing. She lived her life, trusted her instincts, and went after what she wanted with no regard to rules, social or otherwise.
Somehow he was attracted to that. Quite possibly because she would be gone in a few days or a couple of weeks.
There was no risk . . . no expectations. Just the possibility of amazing sex.
What man still breathing wouldn’t be attracted to that?
Ellen set the steaming pot of beef stew in the center of the table. The rolls came next. She took her place beside her husband and sighed. “Kale, say grace and let’s feed this girl. She’s wasting away right before our eyes.”
Kale reached for his sister’s hand, then for Newton’s. She stared at him, then at his hand, and finally put hers in his. He smiled. She looked away. He wondered at that. Did the lady not like to be touched? Or did prayer unsettle her? More mystery to nag at his curiosity.
When all hands were joined, he offered the blessing, adding a plea for the safe return of Alicia Appleton and an extra outpouring of strength and courage for her family.
“Amen,” his father announced. “Now, Sarah, you’ll see what beef stew is supposed to taste like.”
Polly launched into a series of adolescent tales about the kids in school, particularly Alicia Appleton and Jerri Lynn Pope.
Ellen gently scolded her from time to time for being less than sensitive toward her peers.
Kale’s father shook his head and pointed out regularly that Polly was not to be sending text messages during dinner.
Each time she would feign obedience and pretend to put her cell phone away.
Kale wasn’t fooled. Like most teenagers, the girl was glued to that phone. She could probably text with her toes.
Newton interacted with his family, but watched and listened more than she talked. Absorbing, assessing, analyzing. He wished he had an inkling of what was going on inside that head of hers.
Chances were he would never know.
The lady kept her secrets, and she would be gone soon.
Just yesterday he’d dreaded her arrival.
Now he couldn’t exactly say he looked forward to her leaving.
At times, life could sure twist a guy’s balls.
Hard as he tried, he couldn’t keep his mind from wandering back to the investigation.
How could anyone be so warped as to cut out a person’s heart?
The idea that the killer from twenty years ago had never been caught seemed even more horrific, given that detail.
Kale considered the idea that Valerie Gerard had been murdered so heinously by someone she knew, and his chest tightened.
As crazy as it sounded, that idea made the act all the worse.
As much as he wanted to believe, his optimism that Alicia would be found alive was losing oomph fast.
After wine and the homemade chocolate layer cake his mother had insisted they all had to try, Kale helped Newton with her coat. She said her goodbyes to his folks, even got a hug from Polly.
“I’ll walk you out,” he offered.
That she didn’t protest surprised him. She usually made no bones about her ability to take care of herself. Not tonight. She led the way across the porch and down the steps.
At her car she turned to face him. “Thanks, Conner. Tonight was nice.”
“My sister’s a little kooky,” he admitted.
“Your sister is sweet and hilarious.” Newton smiled. “She speaks her mind. I like her.”
That smile, the one he hadn’t seen until tonight, did things to him he wasn’t sure Sarah Newton intended.
Man, when her lips parted that way . . .
amazing. They kept his attention lingering far too long.
When he met her gaze, she was watching him .
. . the way she had been watching his family all night.
He swallowed, yearned to . . . no. No. No. Not a good move.
“It’s really not that complicated, Conner.”
An alarm echoed in his head. “What’s not that complicated?” Busted. Again.
“If you want to kiss me, just do it. Life’s too short to spend it wondering if you should have, could have, or if you ever will have the chance again.”
The lady read minds, did she? “I don’t usually—”
“Gimme a break, Conner.”
Before he could put together a witty comeback, she grabbed him by the face, pulled his mouth to hers, and kissed him. His body reacted in ways his brain had no chance in hell of catching up to. He didn’t even want to try.
She kissed him fast and furiously. It was over way too soon.
“See.” She licked her lips. “That wasn’t so hard.”
Whatever he should have said, he didn’t. He threaded his fingers into that silky hair he’d been dying to touch all damned night, and he kissed her back. Slower, deeper. She tasted a little like sweet chocolate and tart wine. Mostly she tasted like soft, hot woman.
He leaned into her. She reclined against the car and her soft curves cradled his rigid frame.
This kiss was never going to be enough.
Her palms glided down his chest, one sliding around his hip to pull him closer.
“This”—he gulped the cold air—“is going to sound like a seriously bad line, but your place or mine?”
“You didn’t get your coat,” she reminded him. Her knee inched between his thighs. Higher. Higher.
He groaned. “I’ll . . . ah . . . come back for it.”
“Hop in.”
She reached behind her and opened the driver’s-side door. Sliding behind the steering wheel and across the console, she settled into the passenger seat.
He got in, started the engine. “Where to?”
Her eyes were closed, those lush curls crushed against the headrest. “I don’t care. Just go.”
He rolled out of the driveway and headed toward his place. That was closer than the inn.
At the first intersection, he turned onto Main.
She was watching him again. Not analyzing this time, savoring . . . maybe devouring.
“Just park somewhere,” she urged, her hand skimming his thigh.
He took the next left, pulling into Bay View Cemetery. Shit. Why did he turn here?
“There’s no parking here after dark,” he explained, his voice thick with need. Damn it. “I should—”
“Stop talking.”
She was coming across the console before he got shifted into park. He didn’t argue. He shoved the gearshift forward, hit the switch, and turned off the engine. The headlights slowly faded to darkness.
“Seat,” she ordered.
He reached around her and down, pulled the lever to send the seat sliding as far back as possible. She pulled the recline lever, pressed him downward. Without another thought or even a breath, his hands were under her dress, caressing those sleek thighs and that perfect, tight ass.
Her fingers trailed up his fly, then down. His found their way to hot, damp panties.
“Condom,” she murmured.
Shit. “Wallet.”
She dug into his pocket, pulled out his wallet. When she had the condom in her hand, he snagged it, ripped it open with his teeth.
“Hurry,” she urged.
He slid the condom into place and she sank onto him with a satisfied sigh.
Her lashes fluttered downward. She whimpered this little sound that made him crazy.
He wanted to kiss her again, but he couldn’t stop looking at her.
Couldn’t stop touching her. Minutes of soft groans and silent urgency later and his mind was blown.
She sagged against him until their breathing slowed and the cold started to invade the car.
Before he could think of something profound to say, she raised her head, looked at him. He couldn’t read her eyes in the dark, but he felt her tension. Not the kind they’d just shared, either.
“Don’t get any ideas, Conner.” She pulled free of him, taking his breath, then slid across the console and righted her clothes. “For me, that’s it. No relationships, no attachments period. Just sex.”
A little disoriented by her sudden about-face, he righted himself and zipped up. What the hell did he say to that?
Totally at a loss for words, he fired up the engine and backed out of the cemetery.
By the time he’d reached his parents’ house again, he’d managed to pull together a reasonable response.
“I shouldn’t have let things get out of control.
I don’t do casual sex, Newton.” He parked her car next to his Jeep and turned to face her.
This time he could see her eyes in the dim glow of the dash lights. “That won’t happen again.”
She shrugged. “Fine by me.”
“Fine,” he snapped back, but the word was lost to the sound of her slamming the door.
He sat there a moment then got out. It was her car. She walked around him, got behind the wheel, and drove away.
He watched her taillights fade in the night.
Yep. People from New York were definitely nuts.
Or maybe he was the crazy one.