Heart Like Mine (31 page)

She was in turns sweet and sassy, timid and sure … and the combinations had kept him guessing all night long. He'd spent hours exploring her body, and she his, and neither of them had even thought about sleeping until the sun crept through the lacy curtains.

When they'd awakened two hours later, he'd found Delaney snuggled into him, and despite the fact that his right arm was asleep, he didn't want to move. Didn't want to wake her. Didn't want the idyllic scene to ever be interrupted.

But she'd sensed him awake, and she'd rolled over sleepily, reaching for him, hungry for him. Afterward, they'd showered until the hot water tank ran cold, then gotten dressed slowly, like neither of them could stand to face the morning.

However, Millie needed them out by ten o'clock because new renters were due in this afternoon, and the cleaning crew needed to do their thing before then. He idly rocked the swing with his toes, wishing with all his might that they didn't have to head back to their respective realities in an hour.

“You look good without a beeper, you know.” She looked up at him with hooded eyes. “Actually, you look good without a lot of things.”

He laughed. “Ditto. I wish I could say I'm sorry you never got to wear half of what you packed—but I'm not.”

“Maybe another time.”

“Definitely.” He said the word automatically … but not. He'd said it before on a Sunday morning, and he'd even meant it some of those times. This time, though? This time he felt a physical
need
to know that there
would
be another time.

In only two weeks, Delaney Blair had gotten under his skin like no one else ever had, and maybe once he got home, he'd be able to figure out how she'd done it. Right now he was too clouded with memories of a long, hot, beautiful night with her in his arms.

She drained her coffee and straightened up slowly, looking out at the lake. In her profile he could see relaxation, satisfaction, and more than a little exhaustion, which made him smile. He predicted they'd both be sacked out on their respective couches later this afternoon, trying to make up for the hours they
hadn't
spent sleeping last night.

She turned to him. “I guess we should get going, hm?”

“Unfortunately, yeah. I guess we should.”

“Maybe if I'm really, really nice to Millie, she'll let me come back someday. Do you think?”

“Depends whether the media blitz worked, I think. If she's looking for a job in a month, she might not be feeling too generous.”

Delaney put a hand to her forehead, and he felt guilty for plunging her back into the world they'd left behind.

“I guess we should pick up some papers on our way back through town—see if anybody else gave us any help over the weekend.”

He put his arm back around her, pulling her close. “We did our best, Delaney. If it all goes sour now, it's not because we didn't try, right?”

“I guess.” She sighed. “But it just—can't.”

“I agree.” He stood and pulled her up from the swing, kissing her gently when she was standing against him. “Let's not think about it yet, okay?”

She kissed him back. “Did I mention I really, really don't want to go home?”

An hour later, they drove back into the village, and Josh felt his throat constrict. The last thing he wanted to do right now was drop Delaney off at her riverfront condo and go home to his huge, lonely house for the rest of the day.

Sure, he could head over to Avery's House—probably should, really. Or he could check in at Mercy to make sure all was well there. Normally, that's exactly what he'd want to do. But not today. When he glanced across the truck cab at Delaney, who was frowning as she watched the little downtown shops go by, he was struck by an urge to just keep her with him for as long as humanly possible.

“Do you have to get home, really?” He raised his eyebrows and reached across for her hand.

She smiled. “Why? Do you have another secret cabin we can disappear to?”

“I wish. I just wondered—want to come back to my place for a while?” He cringed as he realized he sounded like he was crafting a really lousy booty call. “Just to—whatever. Hang out, maybe have some lunch?”

“If your place has coffee, then yes. If not, can we stop for some first?”

He squeezed her hand, then returned his to the wheel. “You have a serious caffeine problem.”

“Noted and agreed.”

“I do have coffee.”

She smiled. “Then I'd love to see your—place.”

He turned up Sugar Maple Drive, wondering suddenly if he'd picked up his breakfast dishes yesterday, or hung up the towel from his shower, or—crap—made his bed, even. The last thing he'd expected to do was invite Delaney back here, after all. He'd totally thought the next person walking through the door would be him, and
alone
was the only way he ever walked through that door.

The strangest sensation came over him as he drove up the street—a feeling of hope, of wanting Delaney to love his house as much as he did.

Nicole had hated it—found it big and drafty and old. It should have been just one of many, many signs, but he'd ignored it, figured she'd come around eventually.

He looked over at Delaney, hoping against hope that she wouldn't hate it, too.

*   *   *

“Oh.
My.
” When Joshua pulled into a gravel driveway halfway up the hill, he saw Delaney's mouth fall open at the sight of his dark green Victorian with its wide front porch and rounded towers on each corner. “This is your
house
?”

He shrugged. “Yep. It was my parents' house first, though. I came by it on the cheap. No way I could touch it in this market otherwise.”

He stepped out of the truck and came around to open her door. As she got out, she stood in the driveway, just staring at the house in awe. He tended to forget how beautiful the place was, given that he'd lived here his entire life, but the look on her face was a warm reminder.

“Did you grow up here? In this house?”

He nodded. “Want to come inside?”

“Oh, I definitely want to come inside. I bet this place has a back stairway and a dusty attic and everything.”

“You sound like a kid in a candy store.” He laughed in relief. “Dusty attics aren't actually all that cool.”

“They are to me. I always,
always
wanted to live in a house like this. I know it sounds completely ridiculous to complain, but the houses I lived in were all modern, with high ceilings and big rooms and lots of designer furniture.”

“Sounds terrible.” He unlocked the door and motioned her into the foyer, where a wide staircase headed up to the four bedrooms on the second floor.

“It so was.”

“Crooked walls and thin insulation and creaky floors are way more fun.” He rolled his eyes. “I have all of those here, by the way.”

“They give it character.” Her eyes widened as she took in the stone fireplace at the end of the huge living room. “Oh, my God. That fireplace!”

For the next half hour, he led her around the house, floor by floor, until they ended up back downstairs in the kitchen. The whole time, she'd oohed and aahed, and he'd actually loved seeing the house through her eyes. He took for granted the way the morning sunlight crept through the kitchen windows, the way the fireplace opened into the master bedroom, the way his dad had built a window seat in each of the towers. But watching Delaney discover the house sent such an incredible buzz of warmth through his body that it floored him.

As Josh got two bottled waters out of the fridge, Delaney sat down on a bar stool, pointing at the cast-iron rack of pots over the granite island.

“Dr. Mackenzie, I think you've been holding out on me. This looks like the kitchen of a real cook.”

He shook his head. “Unfortunately, it's all for show. I can't cook any better than my mother ever could.”

“Could? Is she not—alive?”

“No.” He paused, taking a deep breath. When was the last time he'd talked about this? Had he gotten any better at it since then? “They died when I was in med school. Car accident.”

“Oh, I'm so sorry, Joshua. I can't imagine.”

He reached up to pull glasses from a cupboard, not sure how much he wanted to share.

“Is that them?” She pointed at a picture he'd hung on the wall—his favorite one of his parents. In it, Dad had his arm looped over Mom's shoulder, and she was laughing. It was the way he liked to remember them—laughing, happy, embarrassingly infatuated with each other even after almost thirty years together.

He glanced over, smiling. “Yeah. That was actually just a month before the accident. My aunt took the picture out at the lake.”

“What were they like?” She took the glass he offered her, then followed him out the back door to a stone patio with chaise lounges.

“Oh, that's such a big question.” He sat down, looking out at the backyard.

“I know.” Her face fell, and he felt guilty. “Sorry. I just—wonder.”

“Don't apologize. My mom was funny. She was goofy and smart and sweet, and she kept my dad and me in stitches all the time. She couldn't cook worth a damn, but she didn't care. I ate so much mac and cheese growing up that it's a wonder my skin doesn't have a yellow tinge.”

Delaney laughed. “Better than the kale and spinach smoothies
my
mom foisted on me.”

“My dad—he was head over heels for her. They were inseparable, you know? A love story for the ages and all that.”

“Sounds amazing.” Delaney looked away from him, and he could see clouds shadowing her face. He wondered how her parents' marriage had weathered Parker's death. They were still together, defying depressing odds, but he got the strong sense that together didn't necessarily mean they were happy.

She looked back at him. “Do you have any sisters or brothers?”

“No. They tried. But apparently destiny had other plans.”

“And then—wow.” She took a deep breath. “You ended up alone.”

“With this really huge house, yes. My mom inherited it from her parents, but she and Dad never really had the money—or time—to keep it up the way they wished they could. I think they always had
someday
as their mantra. Someday they'd do the insulation. Someday they'd go to Aruba. Someday they'd actually retire. But then—their someday got taken away from them.”

He took a slug of his water, trying to steer his thoughts elsewhere. Before he could, Delaney took his hand.

“I think they'd be really proud of you—of all you do. I also think they never doubted for a second that all of their sacrifices were worth it.”

He smiled sadly, squeezing her hand. “I wish I was so sure.”

They were quiet for a few minutes, sipping their water and looking out into the yard. Delaney could hear kids playing somewhere on the street, and then the tinny tune of an ice cream truck broke through the relative peace.

She looked at Joshua, a whole new understanding of the man poking at the edges of her heart. No wonder he was so driven. He'd had parents who were behind him every step of the way, sacrificing all they could to help make his dreams come true. And then their lives had been cut short before they'd even gotten to see him realize those dreams. His guilt must have overwhelmed him at times.

No wonder he worked from dawn to dusk. No wonder he'd poured obvious hours and dollars into this house they'd never had time to update. No wonder he—by all accounts except his own—spent every waking hour thinking about other people, rather than himself.

No wonder … no wonder she was falling for him fast and hard.

“Joshua?”

He turned to her, eyebrows raised.

“Think I could have another tour? I'm not sure I remember which bedroom is yours.”

He smiled, shaking his head as he set down his glass and took hers. Then he pulled her over to where he was half sitting, half lying on the chaise lounge. As she settled her body gently on top of his, he caressed her hair away from her face, looking into her eyes.

“I have to admit, you are not at all what I expected, Ms. Blair.”

She laughed. “Good to know, since I'm pretty sure my ice-queen rep preceded me onto your floor.”

He kissed her softly. “You are most definitely not an ice queen.”

Their kiss turned hotter, deeper as he buried his hands in her hair, then let them travel down her back.

His fingertips brushed across her chest. “You kill me with these blouses. Every time I look at your buttons, I remember that second time you came to my office. I still swear it was a distraction strategy.”

She kissed him. “I'll never tell.”

He laughed softly. “It worked, by the way.” Then he braced her hips against his. “Did you want to go upstairs?”

*   *   *

“You are being impossibly tight-lipped, missy.” Megan glared at Delaney across her desk on Monday morning. “And am I to assume that the fact that you're arriving at nine o'clock means your weekend was extended until this morning?”

“Shh, Meg. Seriously.” Delaney clicked on random windows, trying to figure out what she needed to do this morning, but the feel of Joshua's lips on her skin was still way too fresh in her mind to even contemplate focusing.

Megan narrowed her eyes as she leaned back and sipped her coffee. “Was he good?”

“Megan!”

“Well, come on. Give me a
little
here. I go shopping with you for sex clothes, and I don't even get to hear whether you wore them?”

“I didn't.”

Delaney smiled, biting her lip. No, there'd been no time to put them on. And she hadn't missed them—or anything else—for the entire afternoon Sunday.

“You are impossible. You spent the entire weekend naked, didn't you?”