Garden of Secrets (26 page)

It made sense, but she didn’t completely buy it. “Are you sure you didn’t use what the mayor said as an excuse? Maybe you had second thoughts about us having dinner together.”

“Maybe I
should
have had second thoughts, considering you went running to Andrew two seconds after I canceled our date,” he retorted.

“I owed him a phone call.”

“And that turned into dinner together?”

“Yes, and I didn’t do anything wrong. I have nothing to feel guilty about.”

“So why do you feel guilty?”

“Because you’re making me feel that way!” she shouted in frustration.

“I haven’t said anything.”

“Exactly. But the way you looked at me tonight—”

“Andrew was holding your hand,” he bit out.

“I was almost
killed.
I was shaky, and Andrew saved my life.”

“I know. And I should be damn glad he was there. But seeing you two together . . . I didn’t like it.”

His possessive tone should have made her angrier. Instead, it was making her hot.

They stared at each other for a long, tense moment. She’d said what she’d come to say. She should go. But her feet wouldn’t move.

“Why did you come here, Charlotte?” Joe asked again.

She gazed into his dark eyes and gave in to the recklessness that had driven her across town. “I want you, Joe.”

He sucked in a sharp breath.

“I don’t want to wait. I don’t want to think logically or act reasonably or worry about what’s going to happen tomorrow.” She closed the distance between them, putting her hands on his face, her thumbs tracing over the dark stubble on his cheeks. She looked into his eyes. “I want to jump.”

His hands slipped around her waist, and he pulled her against him with rough impatience. “Then jump.”

She put her arms around his neck and pressed her mouth to his, giving in to the need that had been building inside her for weeks. Relief, exhilaration, anticipation took her from one kiss to the next.

Joe slid his tongue into her mouth, taking over with a cocky possessiveness that made her shiver. He would have her tonight, and she would have him. The thought sent another wave of desire to every nerve ending in her body. Her senses were filled with Joe, his taste, his scent, the strength of his hands, the power of his kiss, the hardness of his body against hers.

She slipped her hands under his shirt, delighting
in the warm, hard planes of his abs and chest. A moment later, she was helping him pull the shirt over his head. He tossed it onto the ground and groaned as she ran her fingers through the dark hair on his chest. And then his hands were stripping off her coat, her sweater, her camisole, his fingers finally finding the front clasp of her bra.

She was awash with sensation, his mouth on hers, his fingers sliding along the edges of her bra in a teasing way that tightened her nipples and sent a shock wave of heat down her body. Finally, he opened the clasp, his palm cupping her breast. And then, his mouth was sliding down the curve of her neck, leaving a trail of heat.

“So beautiful,” he whispered as his mouth took her breast.

She ran her fingers through his hair, drawing in a deep breath as he ran his tongue around her nipple. Her legs felt weak. “God, Joe,” she murmured.

He lifted his head and smiled. “Let’s take this into the bedroom.”

He led her down the dark hallway into his room, kicking the door shut behind him. Moonlight streamed through the parted curtains, illuminating the king-size bed. Then Joe was kissing her again, his fingers pulling at the zipper on her jeans.

His hand slipped inside her panties, making her even hotter. She kicked off her jeans, impatient to be rid of her clothes and his. She pushed his jeans down over his hips and caught her breath at the sight of his beautifully rugged body. Then she was falling
backward onto the bed, onto a soft, pillowy comforter that contrasted with the hard male body that came down over her.

Joe kissed her again, his hands roaming over her naked curves with impatience. “God, Charlotte, I want to go slow, but . . .”

“Next time,” she said, needing him now.

He grabbed a condom out of the drawer in the bedside table and quickly rolled it on. Then they reached for each other again, mouth to mouth, hip to hip, toe to toe. They moved in perfect unison, as if their bodies had been made for each other, as if they’d been waiting a lifetime for this moment, this intense, incredible connection. She loved his weight on top of her, the hairs of his chest rubbing against her breasts, his mouth seeking hers over and over again as he filled her body and her heart. She ran her hands down his back, his buttocks, her nails digging into his skin as the tension built between them. Her world was him. There was nothing else, no one else. A flash of fear that she was giving away too much was chased away by the way he said her name—with tenderness and with need and finally with fulfillment.

Loving his weight on her, she tightened her arms around him, her eyes closed as she just breathed in and out.

When he finally rolled over onto his back, he pulled her next to him. She rested her cheek on his chest, hearing the rapid beat of his heart. He stroked her back with a tenderness that made her feel cherished
and protected. It felt so good—maybe too good. Nothing this amazing had ever lasted for her.

“You’re tensing up on me, Charlotte.”

He was right. She was letting her thoughts get too far ahead of the moment. She lifted her head, meeting his gaze. She wanted to say something light, like what she usually said after sex, but this didn’t feel like sex. It felt like more.

Joe played with her hair. “So silky,” he murmured. “Like sunlight. That’s the way I think of you.”

Her eyes grew moist. “Joe—”

“Shh,” he said, putting a finger to her lips as he gazed into her eyes. “It’s okay. It doesn’t have to mean any more than you want it to.”

What if I want it to mean everything?

She drew in a deep breath and put her head back down on his chest. Closing her eyes, she told herself to enjoy being close to him and worry about meanings tomorrow.

Joe woke up naked and alone in the early dawn. It was six-thirty, and Charlotte was gone. Rolling over, he pulled her pillow close. It smelled like her—like warm, flowering sunlight. His body tightened as memories of their night together flashed through his head.

His only regret was that he’d fallen asleep. He’d wanted to make love to her again, to take his time, to taste her, tease her, torment her. But that would have to wait for another time.

And there
would
be another time. He shoved away a niggling doubt. What they had together was fantastic, and Charlotte had been right there with him. God, he loved seeing her so passionate, so caught up in the moment, caught up in him. She hadn’t held back, and neither had he.

Rufus meandered into the room and nuzzled his hand. “You could have barked when she left,” he said.

Rufus woofed in response.

“A little late. Some watchdog you are.”

Rufus hung his head, and Joe scratched him behind the ears. “It’s okay, buddy. We’ll get her back.”

He just had to get to her before she had too much time to think. He threw on running clothes and shoes, grabbed his keys, and headed out the door.

At Charlotte’s house, her car was there, but all was quiet. She could be inside . . . in which case, he was about to get a lot of exercise for nothing. But he had to take the chance, so he headed down the same route they’d run the day before.

Charlotte’s legs were aching by the time she hit the bluff. She’d pushed the last mile as hard as she could, needing to burn off the worry that had hit as soon as she’d woken up in Joe’s bed. She’d wanted to stay curled up next to his warm body, his arm around her shoulders, but she wasn’t ready for a morning-after conversation. So she’d run—literally.

Slowing down, she walked the last few yards to the beautiful wild garden by the sea. Looking at the colorful flowers sparkling in the dawn light, she felt the same peace that the garden always brought her. She sank onto the ground and stretched out her legs, gazing at the sea. The nearby cliffs were steep and rocky, jutting in and out along the coastline. Fifty yards below, the ocean surged against large boulders, only a narrow strip of beach visible a few hours of the day.

About half a mile down the coast was a much wider beach, with gentler waves. Her generation had called it Bonfire Beach because they went there in the spring and summer to build bonfires and drink and swim. It was far enough out of town and a little hard to reach by foot, making it a great place to get into trouble. She wondered if the kids still went there, or if they’d found some other place to call their own.

With a sigh, she stretched forward, touching her toes with her fingers, feeling the stretch in her hamstrings. Her muscles ached, but she felt invigorated, too. Not just from the run but from Joe. Making love to him had changed her in a way she couldn’t define, but she felt different—more alive, more in tune with her senses.

But she wasn’t falling in love, she told herself firmly. Sex was about lust, not love. They were two separate things and she had to keep them apart.

As she looked at the garden again, a flash of white caught her gaze. “Mary Katherine,” she breathed.

The figure seemed to take a more solid shape the longer she looked at her. Mary Katherine was blond, with freckles and wide-set brown eyes. Her dress was old-fashioned and rather dirty, especially where it touched the ground.

“I hoped you’d come back here.”

“You’re not real,” Charlotte said, still trying to convince herself.

“And you’re not a kid like me anymore. But you still remember me, don’t you?”

“I made you up. You were my imaginary friend.”

“I was sad the day you came here and cried about your baby.”

“How do you know about that?”

“Because I was here. Only you couldn’t see me anymore, because you stopped believing in love.”

“Are you really an angel?” She couldn’t believe she was asking the question.

Mary Katherine nodded.
“My mom and I died when our ship got caught in a horrible storm. It was so frightening. The waves were like huge monsters.”

“Your father and brother didn’t die. Why did you? The women and children were supposed to go first.”

“I didn’t want to leave without my dad, so I ran to find him. My mother came after me. She should have gotten on the boat, but she loved me too much to leave without me.”
A shadow crossed her eyes.
“I couldn’t find my father or my brother. My mother grabbed my hand when the ship broke apart. The water was so cold.”
She shivered with the memory.
“And then there was
nothing. My father found my mother’s body on the beach right there,
” she said, pointing below.
“He carried her up here and laid her down, and he cried over her body, saying he was so sorry. Later he buried her in the cemetery with the others. But he came back here and planted flowers for her. I make sure they never die.”

“Your mother died here, but what happened to you?”

“They never found my body.”

“So are you a ghost or something?”

Mary Katherine smiled.
“I’m not haunting anyone. I help people.”

“How do you do that?”

“If they can believe in me, they can believe in magic, and magic is love. Do you love him, the man you were with yesterday?”

“I’m afraid to,” she admitted.

“So you still need me,”
Mary Katherine said.

“I guess I do.”

“Some things you have to do yourself, Charlie. He’s coming now. Don’t run away from him.”

“Charlotte!” Joe’s voice drew her head around, he was running toward her.

Glancing back at Mary Katherine, she saw that her angelic friend was gone . . . if she’d been there at all.

She got to her feet as Joe drew closer.

“I had a feeling you’d be out here,” he said.

“You seem to know me pretty well.” Her heart took a tumble as she gazed into his eyes and remembered everything they’d done together.

“I wish you’d woken me up before you left.”

“You were sleeping so peacefully. I didn’t want to disturb you.”

“I would have made you breakfast.” He paused, searching her face. “Regrets, Charlotte?”

She shook her head. “No. I’m just not very good at the morning-after stuff, so I try to avoid it. No one quite knows what to say or do. Kind of like now.”

“I know what to do.” He took her hands and pulled her close to him. He gave her plenty of time to move away, but she stayed and watched the slow descent of his mouth with complete and utter delight. And when his lips touched hers tenderly, all she wanted to do was kiss him back hard and deep, long and slow. And when they parted, she let out a long sigh.

“You
do
know what to do,” she said, tightening her arms around his neck.

He smiled. “That was the easy part.”

She nodded. “Words are harder.”

“We don’t need any words right now.” He turned her around to face the sea. “Look at this view. We live in one of the best places on earth. We should appreciate it.”

“I do,” she said, soaking in the sight. But it wasn’t the view that was making her so happy; it was Joe. She stayed in his arms a few minutes more, then finally glanced at her watch. “I hate to say it . . .”

“But you need to get back. So do I, unfortunately.” He took a breath. “Charlotte, I want to apologize.
I shouldn’t have behaved the way I did last night when I saw you and Andrew together. I acted like an ass. It was uncalled for.”

She put her hands on his face. “Joe, I came to you last night. Doesn’t that tell you anything?”

“I’m afraid to guess.”

“I told Andrew that I was interested in you.” Surprise flared in his eyes. “You did?”

“Yes.”

He let out a breath. “Okay, then.”

“Okay.” She dropped her hands and stepped back. “Let’s go.” She took off at a medium pace, with Joe alongside her. She’d spent most of her life as a solo jogger, but it was nice to have company. They didn’t talk, but there was no tension, just a mutual enjoyment of the quiet morning.