Dreams Don't Wait (Contemporary romance) (21 page)

A short cry brought her awake abruptly. Disoriented, she cocked an ear to listen.

"Evan," a weepy voice called out. "Are you there, Evan?" This was accompanied by a sad-sounding sniffle. Evan followed the sniffle to the landing at the top of the stairs.

"I'm here, baby." She wrapped her arms around the shaking little girl and hugged her close. "What's the matter? Bad dreams?"

Jenny nodded into her shoulder and wrapped her arms around her neck. "Spiders," she whispered. "Really, really big ones."

Evan swung her into her arms. "I'm not surprised," she mumbled, thinking about the graphic nature program. "It's okay, sweetheart. There's no big spiders in Daddy's house, just nice teeny weeny ones, and they've all gone to sleep."

Evan carried Jen to her bed and again tucked her in. When she started to go, Jenny reached for her. "Don't go, Evan. You sleep with me a little bit. Okay?" She shifted over to make room for her on the narrow bed.

"Okay. But just for 'a little bit.' " Evan stretched out on the bed and took Jenny in her arms, spoon fashion. Jenny wasted no time snuggling closer.

Sometime later, Evan lifted her wrist and, catching a shaft of light from the door, read her watch. Ten-twenty. She yawned and settled against Jenny. Wondering what was keeping Linc, she fell asleep.

* * *

Linc found them curled up together a half hour later. He stood for a long moment, shoulder against the doorway, staring at them. A woman and a girl. He loved them with a frightening passion.

Evan stirred slightly, lifting a hand to brush idly at her cheek. He hoped she wouldn't wake. He wanted to keep looking. His throat was painfully tight.

He'd thought he'd been in love before—and he'd been wrong. Terribly wrong. A crease centering briefly on his brow, he wondered for a moment why he was so certain he was right this time. Why his overwhelming certainty. When no answer came, he shook his head, went to the bed, and carefully extricated Evan from Jenny's possessive embrace.

With Evan in his arms, he headed to his room. One step and she was awake. Sort of. "You're home," she mumbled sleepily into his neck. "I didn't hear you come in." She lifted her head to look at him.

"Shush." He kissed her forehead and carried her silently to his bed. No, our bed, he told himself, and soon. If he had anything to say about it. He didn't know what was holding her back, but he intended to find out. He needed her. Jenny needed her.

She put her arms around him and nuzzled the base of his neck. "A girl could get to like this being carried to bed thing. It's so... Rhett Butlerish."

"Say the words, darlin', and I'll be happy to put you to bed every night."

"Hm, sounds tempting. Will you tuck me in?"

He felt her smile against the cords of his throat. His own lips curved in answer. "Along with a few other things."

"Other things?"

"Care for a demonstration?"

"I love you, Linc."

He nearly dropped her on the bed. "What did you say?"

"Those
are
the magic words, aren't they?" She glanced up at him and smiled.

"Evan, don't mess with me." This didn't process. The words he wanted so much to hear said out of the blue. No preamble—not that he was sure a preamble was necessary. Still coming so unexpectedly her statement had a stun-gun effect.

She propped herself up on one elbow and reached for his hand, pulling him down to sit on the bed beside her.

For a heartbeat, she was silent, but her gaze when she looked at him was unwavering.

"I said, I love you. I don't know how it happened, or when. I just know I love you, and I wanted—needed—you to know that."

Linc's chest contracted, and for a moment his vision clouded.

The next instant she was in his arms, hard against his pounding heart. He held her without speaking, temporarily overcome by her words, their import. After a long moment, he settled back against the headboard and drew her across his chest.

She tipped her head and frowned, a trace of uncertainty in her eyes. "You're supposed to say something, you know."

"I am?" His thumb played lazily under the edge of her collar. "Like what?"

"Oh, I don't know... Maybe something like I love you, too, Evan," she added dryly.

"I already told you that." He grinned down at her. "I'll let you know when it changes."

She closed her eyes a moment and shook her head. "Ah, romance. So indescribably sweet—so fleeting."

He cupped her chin and lifted her face to his. "I love you, Evan. Until you, I didn't even know what love is. And if you like, I'll tell you that every day for the next fifty years, for the rest of—"

She touched his mouth with one finger. "For now, let's leave it at tonight. Okay?"

He hesitated. He wanted to ask why, to push for a decision. But his arms were filled with hot, willing woman—with Evan—and another part of his body was working itself up to do something about it. Questions could wait.

"For now," he grumbled, bringing his mouth closer to hers. "God, how I love you," he whispered again before covering her lips with his.

She strained toward him, the crush of her breasts firm against the wall of his chest, her mouth opening, yielding to his. His body tensed and hardened, and a low, rumbling groan massed deep in his throat. Evan bent one leg, lifting it to rest on, then rub against, his arousal.

"Oh, baby..." He kissed her again, desperate now, wanting—needing—to be inside her. Deep inside. He turned, pinning her beneath him. His hands trembled when he started to undo the buttons on her blouse. A curse whistled through his clenched lips. He never trembled! He cursed again when a button came off in his hand. Where the hell was the smooth Linc Stewart when he needed him most?

"Tear it, Linc."

He lifted his head to look at the woman under him. She gave him an impish grin filled with a dare and a promise.

He tore it.

Chapter 11

"That was a first," Linc said, a lazy finger tracing a path over her collarbone.

They were contentedly tangled in the sheets of his massive four-poster—as was Evan's buttonless blouse.

"For me too," Evan said, planting a soft kiss on his chest. She was glad Linc couldn't see the faint blush covering her cheeks. She had no idea what came over her when she was with him. Maybe her mother was right. Maybe she was a sinful wanton. But right now it seemed more than possible that she could enjoy making love with this man until she was a hundred years old. Just then his hand moved from her shoulder to her breast in a tender caress. When he started to play with her nipple, she almost purred. Make that two hundred, she told herself, arching closer.

"Evan?"

"Uh-huh?" Her nipple hardened under his hand, and she drew in a sharp breath.

"Are you, or are you not, going to marry me?" he asked.

She stroked the muscles in his arm, then his shoulder, the movement somewhat jittery. She couldn't answer. She wanted to, but she couldn't.

Linc waited before going on. "Is it Cal? Are you afraid he won't approve?" A tinge of worry colored his question.

"Disapprove? I don't think so. He's already suggested I try to nab you."

Linc laughed. "Smart kid." After a short silence, he added, "I would be proud to call him son. I want you to know that."

Evan crossed her arms across Linc's chest and rested her head at an angle to look at him.
Could it work? Could it?
When she spoke, her throat started to tighten. "Cal would like that."

Her words seemed to startle him. "Can I take that to mean the lady is weakening? Is that a 'yes' I hear?"

"The lady takes the fifth."

"Good, that means you're guilty as charged." He ran his fingertips down her back. "And as good as mine."

"Linc, don't push—please." Or I'll say that yes.
Yes, yes, yes!
Her mind screamed it, yet still the word stuck hard in her throat. It should be easy... She curled her fingers in Linc's soft chest hair.

"Is it pushing to tell you that Jen would be thrilled to have you for a mother? She's crazy about you, Evan."

"It's mutual." That much at least was true, she thought, trying to ignore the slight heaviness around her heart. Why, when it came to Jenny, did she feel like a push-me-pull-you, a creature with two heads, each going in the opposite direction?

Linc chuckled softly. "The truth is, I'm a bit jealous. She can't get enough of you. Even as a full-time mother, I'd bet she'd be trailing you around."

"Full-time mother?" she echoed.

Linc didn't answer her non-question.

"I'd have to quit my job," she added stupidly.

Linc kissed her forehead. "You won't
need
to work. I'll take care of Cal's tuition, if that's what you're worried about. I've never had the impression you were strongly committed to Moore Write. Was I wrong?" He twisted his head to look down at her.

"No, I guess not," she mumbled, keeping her face pinned to his warm chest. So maybe it
was
the best job she'd ever had; it was still only a means to finance Cal's education... and then her dream: years of ivy halls, walls of books, foreign ports, and freedom to do whatever she wanted to do. You can't have it all, Evangeline North, you have to make a choice.

The man you love or the life you planned
.

Linc's fingers forked into her hair, and his broad palms tightened on her temples. He lifted her face to his, his gaze, deeply blue and demanding, locked with hers. "Marry me, Evan" was all he said before his mouth covered hers in a promising, possessive kiss.

She didn't answer, couldn't answer, so she kissed him back with all that she was, all that she hoped to be. Her body said what Linc wanted to hear, even as a bright corner of her mind slowly began to dim.

* * *

Later that day, Evan walked to the end of the rocky point outside her cabin. The wind stung, sharp with the threat of more rain. She turned her face into it and breathed deeply.

One thing was clear; Linc wanted a full-time mother for Jenny. After his own lonely upbringing and his ex-wife's less than motherly attitude, it was natural. Hadn't he changed his own life—moving to Victoria, working at home—for the sole purpose of spending more time with Jenny? He'd expect no less from her, and she couldn't bear to disappoint him. If she wanted Linc, and Jenny, her dreams would
have
to wait.

The first drops of rain touched her face.

Like they have since I was fourteen, she added inwardly, remembering the pain of having to leave school. An
A
student, she'd begged her mother to let her at least finish out the year. She clenched her eyelids to shut out her mother's damning words.

"You made your bed, young lady, when you opened your legs for that useless boy, so lie in it. There'll be no more schooling for you."

"But I did finish, Mom." She whispered the words into the wind. "I damn well did."

Refusing to leave Cal to attend classes, she'd done high school online, staring at a wheezing outdated laptop screen until far into the night. Only the thought of those ivy halls—someday—kept her going.

She made fists of her hands and stuffed them into her jacket pockets.

"My life would be a lot easier if I'd never met you, Lincoln Stewart, or Jenny. And it certainly would be easier not to love you—either of you," she mumbled the last words into her upturned collar, not wanting the wind to hear.

Your life would be empty... bone-chillingly empty. Admit it. Stop being such a self-centered coward..

She lifted her chin in defiance. "I just don't want to carry around anymore regrets. I want to be sure—
absolutely sure
—about my commitment. Is that so damn wrong?" With that, she turned her face from the growing wind and headed home.

* * *

"Do you think we'll make it, Evan?" Maud asked. She was loading the dishwasher.

Evan was storing the remains of Jenny's cake in a plastic container. That done, she leaned against the counter and sipped her flat, tepid cola. She glanced out the window at the children scattered over Linc's manicured lawn.