Bed of Lies (27 page)

"I needed you then, and I need you now," he said. "And that's something I've never said to a woman before."

It was as if the words moved through her like a wave, rocking her back where she stood, and then she slowly gathered her strength and opened her mouth, surely to object some more.

"I have to warn you that I'm a mess right now," he rushed on. "You saw some of it, but not all of it, and it's not pretty, and I just hate it. I don't know what's going to happen, and I've got to be the worst kind of risk in a relationship right now, but I'm still asking you to take me on. And one more thing. One big thing. I don't want you here because you think you owe me. Got that?"

"I do owe you. I owe you so much."

"No. No guilt. No paybacks. No sympathy."

"Then what am I going to give you?" she asked.

"Anything else you've got, I'll take," he promised her.

"Zach, I'm the worst when it comes to relationships, to making things last. I'm the last person in the world you want to be involved with."

"Well, that's just too bad, because you're the only person I want."

* * *

Julie just stood there. Every shred of self-preservation she had was telling her to run as fast as she could. This couldn't be happening. These feelings were too intense, too scary.

She wanted so damned much for all of this to be true. She wanted to believe love really did exist. That Zach meant every word he was saying, and that he was thinking with a clear head. That everything she'd ever believed about her future might have been flat-out wrong. That she could trust like this, love just like this. With him.

She'd probably loved him since that night when she was seven, when she had stayed at his house long after Grace had gone to bed, because she hadn't wanted to be at her house alone. He'd walked her home, wrapped his jacket around her to keep her from getting cold and waited with her until her mother finally came home. It seemed he'd always taken care of her. She'd never thought it would turn into anything like love.

Of course, he hadn't said anything about love, and she wouldn't let him if he tried. But the look in his beautiful dark eyes and the way he held her, the way his body seemed to be calling to her, drawing her closer with a kind of force she'd never felt before... When he'd said he needed her... She couldn't imagine what she might have to give him in return.

"Hold me, Julie," he said. "Wrap your arms around me and just hang on to me for a minute."

So she held him. What else could she do? She wanted to be in his arms every bit as much as he wanted to be in hers.

She dipped her head down low so that maybe he wouldn't see her tears. Her hand, which had once pushed him away, grabbed on to the sleeve of his sweater and tugged him closer. Her arms slid around his waist and then burrowed up under his sweater, finding warm, smooth skin and the strength she had reveled in that night.

She eased her face against his chest, burrowing into the soft knit, looking for the smell she remembered as his. His arms came just as slowly to her, as if he were carefully fitting together the pieces of a puzzle, separated into two halves that would now be made whole. His hands worked their way up and down her back, tucking her just a bit closer here and there and then locking around her.

"I've gone about this all backwards, and I'm sorry for that. I get near you, and... Well, you know what happened then."

Yes, she did, and it was different from what was happening now. She felt heat, but it was more a banked fire, a glowing warmth, a kindness and understanding, so many possibilities. It terrified her.

"Don't let go," she said, as he'd done that first night.

"I won't," he promised.

The thing was, this—here with him—was a place a woman could stay, where she could feel safe. She'd never found a place where she'd felt as safe as she had with him.

She wondered if he knew that. That she had a little girl inside who she'd never truly acknowledged, who'd always been in love with him and always would be. That little girl was practically dancing with joy, thinking she was finally getting what she'd waited for all these years, even as another part of her was convinced it could never be real, could never last.

And he couldn't know about that little girl. The idea of being that vulnerable in front of another human being was nearly enough to make her sick, and she knew it was long past time to start throwing up all those walls of hers. But, funny, it seemed she'd forgotten how to build them, and she was too tired to do it, anyway.

Did he know what it would do to her to catch a glimpse of something like this and then lose it? She tried to ease herself away from Zach, just the least little bit, but his hold was unyielding. She leaned back in his arms and gazed up at him.

His face had the barest hint of a smile, and his gaze was as steady as ever. "You told me not to let go, and I'm not going to."

"I don't know how to do this," she protested.

"Neither do I. I was hoping we could make it up as we go along."

She frowned up at him. Of course he thought that. He could do anything.

Closing her eyes, she tried to imagine them together in a way that wasn't just about sex. Which had the effect of making her think about sex. With him. Again. She hadn't gotten enough, not nearly enough, not yet.

And it was starting even now, that slow, sexual heat simmering between them. They were close enough that her breasts were pressed against his chest. They felt tight and heavy. Her skin was tingling, practically calling out,
Touch me, touch me, touch me,
and she would have sworn she could already taste his lips on hers. He leaned into her ever so slightly, just enough to let her feel the way his body was responding to hers. He was hard and ready, despite claiming he wanted more than to have her again.

Everything inside her seemed to go soft and tingly at the feel of him pressed against her this way. It was like he'd fine-tuned her body to pick up the rhythm emanating from his, and he'd been broadcasting a signal to her ever since. And now he was back, touching her, wanting her. Saying he needed her.

How much resistance could a woman be expected to muster? She groaned and stood on her tiptoes, wrapped her arms around his neck, and pulled him to her, as close as they could get. Her mouth locked on his, and her knees went weak at the first touch of their lips.

"Mmm." The part of her mind that said they really hadn't settled anything seemed to be wiped clean as he claimed possession of her mouth, taking the initiative for the kiss when she'd barely gotten started taking what she wanted from him. But this was okay. This was just fine.

She groaned again, and so did he, and then their bodies started throbbing, one in time with the other. She felt like she were coming alive in a way she never had before.

It reminded her of a time when she'd been outside in the snow too long and gotten too far from home. She'd thought she might well freeze before she made it back. Her whole body had gone numb. Finally, in the heat of the house, she'd stripped off her wet clothes, and the feeling slowly came back to her limbs. It was like someone setting off sparklers inside her, sputtering and spitting out sparks, little flames dancing along just beneath the surface of her skin.

It was like that now. Thousands of little sparklers. She could almost hear the hissing, burning sound they made, and she could feel the heat, the magic.

Hold me tighter,
she thought.
Don't ever let me go.

One of Zach's hands pushed its way up her shirt in the back, skin finding skin, and then his other hand joined the first. More skin on skin. Then it slid lower, cupping her bottom, and pulling her up against him more tightly.

She had a wicked flash of them, zippers undone, pants shoved down, everything just far enough out of the way so she could have him inside her, right out here in the backyard on the fall leaves and the grass.

"Good God," he said, breaking off the kiss and backing away, breathing heavily but not letting her go.

"I know," she said, laughing from pure joy, her fears forgotten for the moment. Even then, he didn't let her go. He was a man of his word.

She watched his shoulders rise and fall, breath by breath, as he struggled to find some control. "I didn't come here for this," he said.

"You didn't?"

"Not just this," he clarified.

Julie laughed again, thinking it really was a shame they lived in town, where the houses were so close together and everyone could see everything. The pile of leaves and the autumn grass were so inviting at the moment, and sex with Zach was much easier to think about than love.

"We'll work it out," he said.

"Okay," she said, reaching way down deep inside for some kind of faith, maybe even enough to see this through. She'd always believed in him. If she could do this with anyone, it would be him.

"Don't get scared," he commanded.

"Easy for you to say."

"No, it's not. I'm scared, too."

"What about this scares you, Zach?"

"Everything," he said. "Oh hell, just about everything in my life scares me right now."

He frowned down at her, nervous energy radiating from him, mixing with the sexual heat. She put her hand to his face, reveling in the ability to just reach up and touch him, to pull him to her and kiss him again, if she dared let herself. But as inviting as that was, she sensed this wasn't the time.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"Just some things I have to tell you. So that you know what you're getting into. I'm at least half crazy right now."

"Zach, you're the sanest person I know."

"Then you need some new friends," he said.

She stopped teasing, stopped smiling. "You're serious?"

He nodded, and that insane sexual heat was finally dissipating. He waited a long time before he said, "We really do have to talk about this. Can we go inside?"

"We could, but I doubt we could stand the noise. Peter's home. It was your phone call to the judge that got him here this quickly."

"Nobody to blame but me, huh?"

Julie nodded. "You're changing the subject."

"Trying to."

He was nervous, and she was amazed. "It's me, Zach. You can tell me anything."

"I'm counting on that."

"I need you, too," she said. "Just in case there's any way you don't know that already, and in case it makes whatever you need to say easier."

"It does."

"You need some kind of help?" she guessed when he said nothing.

He nodded.

"And it's that hard to ask me?"

"You don't ask me," he pointed out.

"I never had to. You always just jumped in and started taking care of me."

"You wouldn't ask for help. You never do. And I don't, either. That's one thing you'll probably need to remember, if we're going to make something of this. I have a hard time asking, a hard time admitting I ever come up against anything I can't handle on my own."

"Okay. I'll make a note of that. Don't wait for Zach to ask for help. What else?"

"I really hate it that... that man... George Greene, is out of prison."

"I know."

"And I'm not handling it well."

She nodded, then gave him a tentative smile. "Well, I know you usually handle everything well, but most people don't."

"That's what my mother said." He took a breath and looked even more nervous, more serious. "Sometimes I think... I'm just going to fall apart, Julie. Like I can't handle this, and it's going to get too hard for me to deal with, and then... I don't know what's going to happen then."

He said it as if it were some terrible sin. She just didn't understand.

"Well... doesn't everybody feel that way at one time or another?"

He stared down at her. After a long moment, she caught the faintest upturn of his lips at one corner. The barest hint of a dimple appeared in his right cheek, and then he started laughing. It rose ever so slowly from deep inside and trickled out.

"What?" she asked.

He put his arms around her, picked her up at the waist and swung her around in a circle.

"Zach!" she screamed.

He laughed even harder, hoisting her up onto his shoulder in something resembling a fireman's hold and spinning around in a circle some more. She shrieked and clung to him as best she could, getting dizzier by the minute, until he slowly began to lower her to the ground. Either he was dizzy or they hadn't completely stopped revolving when he did it, because she felt herself slipping out of his hold, and him struggling to hang on to her and keep them both upright.

It didn't work that well. They finally collapsed together on the ground in her pile of leaves. He ended up flat on his back with her sprawled on top of him. She managed to rise to her hands and knees, straddling him, laughing herself. Late-afternoon sunshine came streaming through the trees, a beam of it settling like a spotlight on him and her. It was like being anointed by the gods, she decided, and felt so amazed to be here like this with him that she just had to kiss him.