Chapter 31
Ali was happy she’d had this idea for more reasons than she’d ever expected.
Not only did Colby seem lighter, happier out and thinking about other things, she was seeing a side of him she never had.
She was seeing at least glimpses of the man he was when not all consumed with worry.
The guy who had a reputation around here, the guy people thought of as a friend, the guy who could make a call to someone he hadn’t talked to in months and not only be welcomed, but to have that person ask about his little girl.
And she couldn’t help noticing he’d been looking at her when he answered. It told her she was part of that help he’d mentioned, and that warmed her yet again in that way only he seemed able to.
Once they were loaded up, and the back of her little SUV was full of things she was looking forward to filling her new greenhouse with—including a baby version of the library’s tree—she headed for the rather winding exit from the parking lot.
“I’m sorry I can’t go to help you unload,” he said, brow furrowed.
“I’ll manage. I’ve got a dolly in the garage to manage the bigger, heavier stuff.”
It wasn’t until they were at the one stop light on their route that he asked, “Could we…make another stop?”
“Of course,” Ali said to Colby’s hesitant question. “We have plenty of time, although I’m not sure we have room for much more.”
“I didn’t mean more plants… I meant my place. I need a couple of things. It’s close,” he added, gesturing up the hill.
“Oh, of course,” she said quickly. She couldn’t deny the spark of interest that flared. She was curious to see where he lived, how he lived, when he wasn’t under the kind of stress he was now.
She followed his directions until they ended up on a small cul-de-sac with about a half dozen houses.
All were what she’d call tidy-looking, cozy, welcoming.
Fairly new, but not starkly so. Each one different, yet they all fit together, with enough in common to suggest the same designer, yet not cookie cutter.
“This is lovely!” she exclaimed.
“Thanks.” He sounded pleased, but a little embarrassed.
“I can see why you chose this place. All of the homes here are just perfect. And this one in particular,” she added as he directed her into a driveway leading to one of the two houses at the end of the loop.
This one was a bit more secluded than the others, but mainly because of the trees that sheltered it.
The house was a single story, with a small yard and a welcoming covered porch.
It was painted a light gray with dark gray trim, which could have made it a bit stark, but not next to all the greenery.
Once she’d parked the car, she glanced over at him. He was looking pleased again, which pleased her in turn. Funny how just seeing him react in any kind of positive way warmed her heart. But there was something even more in his smile this time. And after a moment she had it.
“You helped build these, didn’t you?” she exclaimed.
He looked startled then. “How did you know that?”
“Because you looked proud. And the only other time I’ve seen that look on your face is around Grace.”
That seemed to startle him, but his smile widened. “Do you want to come in?” His mouth quirked. “I don’t remember how big a mess it is, I kind of left in a hurry.”
“I’d love to.”
It didn’t look messy to her, but then she’d been living half-unpacked for three weeks. Sure, there was a coffee mug in the sink, a pair of boots on the floor inside the back door and a jacket and shirt tossed over the back of a chair, but to her that just meant lived-in.
As was instinct with her, she noticed some things—very few—she would do, give him a drying rack for those work boots, maybe a bit of tile on the floor for wet and muddy days, and add a splash of color here and there, but all in all this felt like a place she’d finished with, not one she needed to work on.
And down at the end of a hallway she saw a door open, to a brightly colored purple-and-pink room with toys and books strewn about, and stuffed animals and more books on every shelf.
Grace. There was no question. She thought about the cold, sterile room the child was relegated to in her mother’s house, and felt another jab of sorrow and sympathy.
Then they walked through to the main room, which had more of the neat, functional feel.
And the stack of books on an end table were a positive, even if they weren’t exactly neat.
But all of it barely registered when she saw the view out the large back windows.
Not just the expansive deck but, in the distance and between more of the trees she loved, as if they were a frame, the water of Puget Sound.
It was a lovely blue today under the clear winter sky.
“Colby, this is beyond wonderful,” she said when she heard him come up behind her.
“Kind of plain, I know—”
“It’s not plain, it’s functional. And who needs fancy inside when you have that—” she gestured toward the sparkling water through the trees “—outside? This spot up on this hill is the perfect place, and I love that you didn’t mow down all the trees to take advantage of the view.”
“They talked about it, but I told them I was buying this one and to leave them. To me, they frame the view, not distract from it.”
She turned around quickly as he used exactly the word she’d thought of a moment ago. She hadn’t realized he was quite that close, and before she knew it she was up against him. She wobbled a little, and his hands instantly came out to steady her.
And then she was in his arms, looking up at him. She thought she saw something flash in those blue eyes, something hot followed by an effort to look away that was underlined by the tension in his arms, as if he were trying to let go but his arms wouldn’t cooperate.
“Colby,” she whispered, her voice coming out husky because of the tightness in her throat. And then he was kissing her.
It began almost harshly and definitely hungrily. Fierce, even. She let out a low moan without even thinking about it, because she couldn’t have stopped it anyway. He broke the kiss, and she felt him start to back off.
“No!” she protested, and reached up to pull him back to her.
“Ali, I…can’t do this.”
“Oh.” She felt a chill go through her. “I thought…you wanted to.”
He let out a low, harsh laugh. “I do. God, do I. But I’m afraid you’ll regret it.”
“What is there to regret that I don’t already know about?” she demanded.
He just looked at her for a moment, his expression softening. He let out a low, wry and short chuckle. “Point taken. You pretty much know it all.”
“I want you,” she said firmly. “You, Colby Kendrick. Who you are, now and from now on.”
She saw the change come over him then, and before she could even put a name to it heat rippled through her in response.
Then she realized it was fierceness, the same kind she was feeling.
Heat, want, need all billowing through her in waves so potent she even imagined she could see the reflection of it in his eyes.
Or maybe it was his own need, finally cut loose.
She hoped so.
And then he removed all doubt by sweeping her up into his strong arms as if she were as light as a leaf from one of those plants waiting outside.
His mouth came down on hers again, heat spiked again and she barely noticed they were moving.
She didn’t even register the room as he pushed open the door.
All she saw, all she wanted to see was him, all she wanted to feel was his mouth on hers, and anywhere else he wanted to put it.
Which had her thinking of all the places on him she’d like to kiss, to taste.
She wasn’t sure who removed what clothing, thought she might have tugged at his jeans while he was pulling off her sweater, but it didn’t matter. What mattered was within moments they were skin to skin.
He was as beautiful as she’d expected, strong, leanly muscled, powerful. They hit the bed, and the only thing she noticed about it was that it just might be big enough.
He reached over and pulled open a drawer in the nightstand and pulled out a small, clearly unopened box of condoms.
“Sometimes,” he muttered, “I’m thankful for my smart-ass friends.”
“If they provided those, so am I.”
He laughed, and she felt it down deep where his abdomen was pressed against her. She also felt the prod of another powerful part of him, clearly ready and able. He fumbled for a moment, sheathing that part, telling her it truly had been a while for him. As it had for her.
He rolled back, half over her, cupping her face in his hands. “You’re really sure?”
“So very sure,” she answered. “Just…it’s been a long time, so I’m not…used to this. Just don’t stop.”
“I won’t.” He almost growled. “But I’m going to go slow and easy until you tell me not to. And then, look out Ali Moran, because under all the chaos, I’ve been wanting this since the first time I saw you.”
“Ditto, Colby Kendrick.”
Then his mouth was all over her, finding places she’d forgotten existed, feeling sensations she’d forgotten she could. And when he finally slid into her, long and slow and deep, it was only a moment before she did exactly as he’d said, and told him not to be so careful.
And even in this it seemed they were in tune, because the moment she felt an incredible wave of sensation making her convulse around him, he groaned out her name and pulsed inside her. And there were no words she knew that could describe the wonder of it, of him.
Of them.