Lost in Her (25 page)

“Thank you, Maria, for everything.”

“That’s what friends are for.”

After hanging up with Maria, Charlie debated calling Ryan to tell him she was coming. Not sure if she would change her mind and get right back on a plane for home, she decided not to.

At dinner, Ryan sat in the same chair that had been his as a kid. Knowing his mom would insist on him staying home, he’d checked out of the hotel. His parents had been ecstatic to see him, and he hadn’t realized before how much he had hurt them by cutting them out of his life the past year. As his mother fussed over him, and his dad went for manly questions—asking him about being in the SEALs—he let his mom wait on him only because it made her happy. He answered all his dad’s questions, telling him amusing stories about his teammates.

His oldest sister, Megan, alternated between concerned looks at him and goofy glances at her husband. It made him wish Charlie were sitting next to him so he could give her goofy grins. His other sister, Colleen, lived in Northern California with her wine-making, rich husband. How that had come about he still wasn’t sure, but he hadn’t seen her in two years and he missed her. She had been his coconspirator in all things that got the two of them grounded as children.

As Megan’s gaze flickered between him and Patrick, her eyebrows furrowed in the way they had in his teen years when he was up to no good. She had always been the one to tattle on them.

Patrick studiously avoided looking at him, and that pissed Ryan off. Who the hell was he to act like the wounded one? About the time Ryan decided to reach across the table, never mind how it would upset his mother, and land his fist on his brother’s nose, the doorbell rang.

Their mother rose. “Anyone expecting company?” No one answered as they darted glances between him and Patrick.

“What’s going on here?” his father asked.

Ignoring his dad’s question, Ryan leaned over his plate toward Patrick. “Look at me, damn you.”

Before he could say more, the last voice he expected to hear said, “Is Ryan O’Connor here?”

She’d come. Sweet Jesus, she had come. He pushed away from the table so quickly that his chair turned over. If he didn’t get out of the house, away from his brother’s presence, he didn’t know what he would do next.

“Yes, he is. Come in,” his mom said.

Ryan grabbed the keys to his father’s car as he walked past the bowl on the foyer table. “She’s not coming in.” He stepped around his mom. “We’ll stop by tomorrow. You can meet her then.” Even knowing the rest of the family had followed him and now stood behind his mother didn’t stop him from wrapping his arms around Charlie and pressing his face against her neck.

“You’re here,” he stupidly stated the obvious.

“You needed me,” she answered, as if that was the only excuse she needed to travel halfway across the country at a moment’s notice.

He picked her up so that she straddled him, carried her to his dad’s car, lowered her onto the seat, and buckled her in. Because he couldn’t resist, he kissed her. Hard.

“Who is she?” he heard Megan ask.

His mom ran toward them, waving one hand, a tote bag in the other. She handed it off to him. “This is hers.” She gave him a fierce hug. “You better bring her back tomorrow, or you’ll be cleaning toilets for the next six months.”

Cleaning toilets had been a childhood punishment for their sins, of which there had been many committed by all the siblings, but especially by him and his brother. “I promise,” he said, returning her hug. “But you can’t make me scrub a toilet now. I’m bigger than you.”

Before the rest of his family could descend on them, nosy people that they were, he tossed the bag onto the backseat, then jogged around the front of the car and slid onto the driver’s seat. As he backed out of the driveway, he tried to decide where to take her. He wanted someplace private where they could clear the air between them, then hopefully pass the night away making love. On his walk, he had noticed a quaint bed-and-breakfast near the wharf. Best of all, he and Kathleen had never been there. He turned the car toward downtown, hoping they had a vacancy.

Charlie hadn’t said a word since showing up and asking for him. Afraid to start a conversation he didn’t want to have while driving, he risked reaching over and taking her hand. When she didn’t pull away, hope spread its way through him. She didn’t have to tell him he’d almost lost her. He knew it. But she had come, and he would hold on to that.

And she wore the earrings he’d made for her. Another sign that he still had a chance with her? All he had to do was find the right words to explain everything, then convince her he was ready to put the past behind him.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

C
harlie still wasn’t sure she hadn’t made a mistake coming to Boston. She supposed before the night was over that she would know the answer. As Ryan drove to wherever he was taking them, she concentrated on the passing view. Never having been to Boston, she thought she should at least pay attention. Get her money’s worth, if nothing else.

Her return ticket was for the following afternoon, and she had no choice but to be on the flight if she was to have time to be ready for her performance. Somehow—and much to her surprise—the air show paled in comparison to her hope of making things right between her and Ryan.

Because he was silent, she stayed silent, too. After twenty minutes, downtown Boston came into view, and still, he hadn’t said a word. Just held her hand as if he would never let go. Even though tension radiated from him, the silence between them wasn’t uncomfortable. He began to rub his thumb over the top of her hand, sending shivers up her arm, and because she wasn’t ready to forgive him, she did her best not to let him see how much his touch affected her.

At a quaint building near a marina, Ryan turned into the parking lot. He pulled into a space, then turned off the ignition. “Will you stay here with me tonight?”

Where else was she supposed to go? She glanced at the sign. “I’ve never stayed in a bed-and-breakfast. Always wanted to.”

“Is that a yes?”

“My flight home doesn’t leave until tomorrow afternoon. Guess I have to stay somewhere, right?” She knew she wasn’t responding the way he wanted her to, but she couldn’t help it.

“One room or two?”

What she wanted was for him to just take charge, but she understood he was giving her the choice of whether or not to spend the night with him. “One.” She didn’t know what the following days would bring for them, and maybe she was stupid, but she wanted this night with him.

“Thank you.”

As they walked toward the entrance, Ryan took her overnight bag from her, while his other hand rested on her lower back. “I hope they have a room available,” he said.

Turned out they did. As Ryan unlocked the door to their room, her nerves notched up. He followed her in, and she turned in a circle, taking in the décor. She knew nothing about antiques, but she felt as if she’d walked through a time warp, back a hundred years maybe. There was even an old-fashioned pitcher and washbowl, something she’d only seen in magazines. The bed had an iron headboard, a colorful quilt, and fat, fluffy pillows.

Ryan set her bag on a suitcase stand, the only piece of modern furniture in the room. He walked to the French doors, opened them, and stepped out onto a balcony. She followed him and stared out over the harbor. The water sparkled like colored diamonds from the red, yellow, blue, and white lights coming off the boats and nearby businesses.

“It’s beautiful,” she said.

Instead of taking in the view, he was focused on her. “Yes, beautiful.”

There were two wicker chairs on the balcony, and she sat before her legs gave out. How could he make her tremble just by looking at her like that? He settled in the other chair and put his feet up on the railing.

For a few minutes, they watched the boats bobbing in the marina. There were a few large yachts, but most appeared to be smaller pleasure boats. She would not speak first. He had said he needed her, and she had heard the pain in his voice, so she had come to him. As far as she was concerned, they could sit all night staring at the view, or he could tell her what had happened. Out of the corner of her eye, she studied him. Usually clean shaven, he sported a bristly stubble, and he just looked . . . lost. That was the word. He was lost.

Another five minutes passed before he said, “It was my brother.”

Shocked, she turned her head toward him. He couldn’t possibly mean his wife had had an affair with his brother. “Your brother what?”

“The ba . . . baby. It was my brother’s.”

Oh, God. No wonder there had been such pain in his voice when he’d called her. He’d even stumbled over
baby
, as if he could barely get the word out. She couldn’t blame him—wasn’t even sure which was worse for him, the betrayal of his wife or that of his brother.

As the story poured from him, she didn’t know what else to do but just listen. By the time he finished, tears flowed down her cheeks. For him. For her. How could he get past something like that? Would she ever matter to him as much as his wife had? He had a history with Kathleen—according to him, they’d been together since the third grade. Theirs had been a once-in-a-lifetime love, for goodness’ sake. How was she supposed to compete with that?

“That’s it,” he said. “My sad story.”

That was putting it mildly. “What’re you going to do about your brother?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think I can ever forgive him.”

He couldn’t possibly know how much those words hurt deep in her heart. “Until you do, you won’t ever be able to let go of her.” And that was the crux of the matter from her perspective. She was really proud that she had managed to keep her voice steady.

Standing, he began to pace the small confines of the balcony. Not knowing what else to say, she brought up her legs and rested her head on her knees. God, she was tired, both physically and emotionally. She lif
ted her head to see him standing at the railing as he stared into the night.

Enough was enough. She couldn’t do this. It had been a mistake to
come. Quietly slipping away, she went into the room and climbed onto
the bed, curling up on her side with her face toward the wall. Too wrung
out to even cry, she closed her eyes. Minutes later, the bed dipped as
he
slid up behind her, spooning her. Unable to help herself, she tensed.

“What you just said, you’re right.” His arms came around her and he pressed his mouth against her neck. “I’m sorry, Charlene.”

When she didn’t respond, he pulled her closer, until a piece of paper wouldn’t have fit between them. He was killing her. There was no place she’d rather be than in his arms, but she couldn’t be with a man who loved a ghost.

“Will you come with me tomorrow to my parents’ house?”

“No. I can’t.” She turned to face him. “I can’t do it, Ryan. You need to figure out what you want, and you especially need to find a way to forgive your brother. It’s not a journey I can take with you.”

The orange streaks in his eyes flared. “Do you care about me at all, cherub?” He tugged on the silver chain, pulling his ring out from under her shirt. “I know this thing between us started as a game, but I don’t want to lose you. I am though, aren’t I?”

She wanted to deny it, wanted to take him however she could have him. But she would hate herself for settling for second best, and in the end, he would lose all respect for her. The only thing she could do was to be honest with him.

“I’m halfway in love with you, Ryan. Whether you lose me or not depends on you.” She put her finger over his lips when he began to speak. “I’m not jealous you loved your wife, but I’m sure as hell jealous of her ghost. If you can’t let her go, and a part of that is forgiving your brother, then there is no us.”

His beautiful eyes filled with tears. “I know I have to let her go, but I don’t know if I can forgive Patrick.”

“Then you’ll never be free of her. I’m sorry for you.”

“Can I stay with you tonight?”

She wanted to tell him no, but she couldn’t say the word.

“Do you want me to go? If that’s what you—”

“Stay.”

A shudder passed through him, then his mouth covered hers. His kiss was hot, demanding, possessive. There was nothing tender about it. At that moment, if her life had depended on it, she wouldn’t have been able to resist him. How much he really did need her, she didn’t know, but she needed him. Wanted him. Burned for him. If that made her a fool, she didn’t care. Not then. If she felt differently in the morning, she would deal with it.

“Make love to me, Hot Guy.”

Ryan wasn’t sure he heard her right. Why wasn’t she ordering him to leave, to get out of her life and leave her in peace? He was a hot mess, and without any consideration of what was going on in her life, he’d called and begged her to come to Boston. Then when she had, instead of showing her how happy he was to see her, he’d gone and dumped his pathetic story on her. Yet she was still here, looking at him with those soft, blue-gray eyes of hers.

She’d given him an ultimatum. Forgive his brother or lose her. Because he couldn’t bear the thought of not having her in his life, he would try to do as she asked. Somehow he would find a way to do the impossible.

Her small hand came up to cradle his cheek. “Please, Ryan.”

“Yes,” he whispered. He stood and removed his clothes, then slid his arms under her and picked her up.

She wrapped her arms around his neck. “Where we going?”

“I spent most of the day walking the streets of Boston before ending up at my parents’. I need a shower so I’ll smell good for you.” He nuzzled her neck. “I figured you could join me.”

Wanting to take care of her, he sat her on the counter, then undressed her after turning on the water to warm up. Although he was as hard as an iron bar from wanting her, he didn’t want to take her in the shower. Instead, he bathed her, using the scented soap and shampoo provided by the bed-and-breakfast.

She hummed, rippling like a cat being petted as he rubbed the . . . “What do you call this thing?” He held up the sponge he’d taken out of a cellophane wrap.

“A loofah. I’m not sure I’ve ever smelled like a strawberry,” she said, eyeing the label of the shampoo bottle.

“I love strawberries. Did you know that?” He licked the skin at the bottom of her neck. “Mmm, delicious.” At her giggle, he smiled. If he didn’t find a way to make things right with her, he would be the biggest idiot in the world.

After pouring more of the liquid soap onto the loofah, he knelt in front of her and began to wash the bottom half of her. His face was even with her curls, and unable to resist, he trailed his tongue through her folds, then up. When he touched her clit, her hands grabbed on to the top of his head.

“Ryan?”

“Hush, baby.” Her taste was strawberry sweet, and as he lapped at her and inhaled her scent, he wrapped his hand around himself. If he didn’t take the edge off, he would come the second he slid into her. It wasn’t long before she gasped as a shudder moved through her, and he let go, too.

“Charlie,” he said between harsh breaths, then he buried his face against her stomach, squeezing his eyes shut. “Charlie.”

She reached behind them and turned off the water, then knelt in front of him. “No matter what happens tomorrow, this night is ours, okay?”

It was more than okay, and although he wanted to demand that she promise they would be together after tomorrow, he didn’t. “Okay,” he said, and scooped her up, carrying her to the bed.

“We’re wet,” she said, laughing.

“Just makes it easier to slip slide all over you. Or I could lick you dry. Your choice.”

His cherub huffed out a breath. “That’s like asking if I want to win a million dollars or win a million dollars.”

“Some of both then,” he said. As he slid over her warm body, he licked away at the droplets of water on her silky, sweet-smelling skin. She deserved so much more than life had given her, and for that night at least, he would show her how special she was.

He pushed up on his elbows and stared down at her, his breath catching at the hint of sadness in her eyes. Although he wanted to tell her not to be sad, that he would find a way to make things right for them, he wouldn’t promise something he wasn’t sure of.

“Just so you know, Charlene, there’s no one else in this bed with us. It’s just you and me here tonight.” That, he could promise her.

“Just you and me,” she whispered, then pulled his head down.

Their mouths met, explored, tasted each other. Their tongues swirled around each other’s, scraping teeth, their noses bumping as the intensity of the kiss increased. The need for her that swelled through him rocked his soul.

You’re mine, Charlene Morgan,
he wanted to tell her, but he didn’t have the right to say it. Not yet. So he showed her with his mouth, with his caresses, and with his body what she meant to him.

As he positioned himself to enter her, he froze. “I’m an idiot. I don’t have a condom, cherub, but I’m clean.” Not only had he not been with anyone since Kathleen, but K2 required physicals, so he was double sure.

“I’ve been tested since I broke up with what’s his name. I’m good.” She grinned up at him. “Even better, I’m on the pill.”

“Then let’s make some magic, okay?” He liked how she’d referred to her ex, and if it bothered him to think of her with someone else, how must it feel for her to have Kathleen’s presence between them? But he’d promised her there were only the two of them in this bed, and he pushed the stray thought away.

“Yes, please.”

When he slid into her, he sighed and stilled. The sensation of having her wrapped around him, all hot and wet, was so pleasurable that he couldn’t even think of words good enough to describe it. She nuzzled her face against his neck and scraped her teeth over his skin.