Both of them were laughing like little kids.
Until his body brushed hers. Time stopped as he stared wide-eyed at her, stricken by the strange electrical current that ran through them.
She seemed similarly conflicted.
Being pressed against a woman wasn’t a new experience. Yes, it had been awhile, but not that long. Not long enough for him to be holding himself utterly still in order to get a better feel of all those warm curves he could feel beneath her clothes. And not just warm curves, but really great warm curves.
Breasts smashed into his chest. Soft feminine hips pressed to his own. Not an inch of space between them. That combined with the real fact of already being attracted to her as a person caused a very base reaction, and she couldn’t have missed it.
Her eyes went wide.
Nope, she didn’t miss it. No more than he missed the way her nipples hardened to two tight tips, drilling through all her layers into his shirt.
She felt amazing. Her mouth opened, but the only sound to escape was a little sigh he would have sworn was the sound of helpless awareness. Arousal.
And he couldn’t help it. He lowered his head just a fraction, so his mouth nearly touched hers. She was a near stranger, but he needed to kiss her more than he needed his next breath. Given the way she angled her head and parted her lips, she felt the same way.
The doorbell rang again.
Slowly Sean pulled back, his chest, his belly, his thighs leaving hers reluctantly.
She made that little sound again, the one that tugged at him so primally. Hardly able to think, he pulled open the door.
Mrs. Trykowski, Slovak immigrant, next-door neighbor and local pest, brushed past him and marched right on in without being asked.
The eighty-something woman was barely five feet tall, walked with a little skip in her step and had a voice like a truck driver’s. “Brought you some fruitcake,” she barked in the gravelly, heavily accented voice that assured everyone she’d been smoking like a fiend for over half a century.
She brought Sean fruitcake on a regular basis. Not because he couldn’t feed himself, but because the woman had a curiosity streak a mile long.
True to form, she craned her neck down the hallway, looking for new and exciting clues to his life.
Then she spotted Carly.
“Ah,” she said, a secret smile on her lips. She winked at Sean.
“Stop it,” he said. “Stop it right now.”
“I do not know what you are talking about,” she said innocently, her narrow, sharp gaze on Carly.
Sean groaned, knowing what was coming-
“Ten,” she said triumphantly.
She had a terrible habit of rating his dates. “Mrs. Trykowski, Carly isn’t-”
“What does she mean, ten?” Carly asked him.
“Nothing,” he assured her, giving his nosy, bossy neighbor the evil eye. “Carly Fortune is Melissa’s new nanny for the next two weeks, just until my sister comes back.”
“Whatever you say.” Mrs. Trykowski had been playing matchmaker for the better part of a year now, though Sean was having no part of it. “A ten,” she repeated triumphantly. “She is the one, Sean. Remember this.”
“I’m the one what?” Carly asked, looking a little unnerved.
Sean knew the feeling. Yes, Carly was smart and funny. Yes, there was something about her, but he’d known her all of a few hours. And anyway, no woman was ever going to be the one, not ever again. “Carly, this is Mrs. Trykowski. She lives next door and has clearly forgotten to take her medicine.”
Mrs. Trykowski grinned.
Sean ushered her to the door. “They’ll be hauling you away in a white jacket if you’re not more careful.”
Carly looked horrified.
Mrs. Trykowski laughed.
Melissa came down the hall doing the pee-pee dance. “Gotta go again, Uncle Sean!”
Sean could only groan, wondering what had happened to his nice quiet life.
3
IT WAS NOTHING short of a miracle, but finally, after needing water, a multitude of stories, three bathroom stops, monster checks in the closet and countless hugs good-night, Melissa was ready for bed.
As they had before, the hugs had stopped Carlyne cold. Her family never hugged good-night. In fact, they never hugged at all, but Melissa hadn’t cared about Carlyne’s reserve, she’d just crawled in her lap, wrapped her thin, bony arms tightly around Carlyne’s neck and squeezed so tight Carlyne could hardly breathe.
“One more hug,” the little girl pleaded. “Please?”
Carlyne had something sticky in her hair, grimy handprints all over her, and she couldn’t wait to take a shower, but Melissa wouldn’t let go.
“I miss my mommy,” she whispered.
Carlyne’s heart melted, and she found herself stroking Melissa’s hair. “I know, baby.”
“You smell pretty.” She burrowed her face into Carlyne’s neck. “Like a mommy.”
Startled by the unexpected lump in her throat, Carlyne held on.
“Night,” Melissa finally said, kissing her cheek, leaving yet another sticky imprint.
Carlyne no longer cared. “Night,” she whispered.
Exhausted, she practically had to crawl to her room, thinking if high-school students were forced to baby-sit, even for one afternoon, teenage pregnancy would vanish.
Unless good-night hugs were part of the package.
She was surprised that taking care of one little child could be more tiring than her social benefits and parties, but it definitely was. The thought of multiple children was terrifying.
And thrilling.
Sean’s extra bedroom was much smaller than what she was used to. When she shut the door behind her, she was expecting to feel claustrophobic, but that didn’t happen. The room was clean and simple, had a lovely glass sliding door, overlooking the back yard, and it felt…cozy.
Normally she reserved evenings for herself-when she wasn’t attending one social event or another, that is. She craved quiet time, and she was ruthlessly selfish when she managed to steal it. She’d take long baths, walk or read.
Tonight was no different, though she had to admit, the need to get away from all the people around her didn’t feel as strong as usual.
Still, she couldn’t wait to strip down to the buff, to get out of the weight of the disguise of Carly. But instead, her feet took her to the sliding glass door, to the beautiful moonlit night beyond.
She’d been to many, many places, all across the world, but Santa Barbara was one of the most beautiful she’d ever seen. It was lush and green and fragrant, and in the distance, she could just hear the ocean, pounding the shore in relentless waves.
But far closer, in the pool just beyond the patio, swimming for all he was worth, was Sean.
She stepped out of the room and off the patio into thick wet grass that made her want to take off the hideous boots she still wore so her toes could sink in. Before she could stop herself, she made her way to the very edge of the pool.
The night was clear, cool and fairly quiet, except for the sound of Sean’s long, powerful arms and legs slicing effortlessly through the water.
One lap. Two. Ten.
And still she watched, fascinated.
She could see a flash of smooth, sleek back. A tough, muscled shoulder. A long, lean flank. She had no idea why she felt something deep within her react when there were plenty of gorgeous men in her life. Plenty.
Okay, maybe not plenty, mostly because whatever men there were in her world, rich and educated and a perfect catch-just ask her mother-all bored her.
She had a feeling nothing about Sean would bore any woman.
Not that she planned on finding out. No, she couldn’t add a quickie affair to her current list of sins. An affair, no matter how suddenly tempting, wasn’t on her list of things to do while in the real world.
Learning who she was and what she was made of…that was her plan.
Sean, oblivious to her standing there, continued to swim beneath the starlit night until finally he slowed, then stopped only inches from where she stood, his body strong and pulsing and gleaming in the moonlight.