Now and Forever 4, The Renovated Heart (15 page)

“This,” he said, taking her in his arms,
kissing her long and deep.

Her hands rested on his biceps but instead
of forcing him away, her fingers curled around his hard muscles. He
reached something primal, a hunger in Kit, part of her not touched
for a long time. The fire he started inside her threatened to take
over. Then he let her go.

“I think we’ve done enough for today,”
Tunney said, wiping his mouth with his hand before walking out the
front door.

Kit didn’t see him for a week. She wanted to
call but didn’t know what to say. Of course he was right. They had
chemistry. She wanted him as much as he wanted her but couldn’t
admit her lie to him.
Chemistry will go out the window when he
finds out I lied.

Tunney didn’t call her. Every day she hoped
he’d show up. When he didn’t, she retreated to writing. Her book
progressed quickly, but her heart ached.
Zoe won’t be here for
Christmas, now I’ve lost Tunney, too.

* * * *

She had been moping around for days, waiting
to hear from Tunney but he didn’t call or come by. Every
conversation with Zoe was about her trip to Switzerland. She tried
to share her daughter’s enthusiasm, but her heart hurt at the
thought of her first Christmas without her.

After finishing her first cup of coffee, Kit
stood in the parlor and looked out on a gray Saturday with a strong
chill in the air. Knowing she should be writing but not feeling up
to the task, She jumped when the bell rang. Tunney waited for her
to open the door. She wore a warm smile, happy to see him.

“Cold weather is almost here. I want to
check the fireplace chimney in the bedroom…hasn’t been used in a
long time. Will you be in there this morning?”

“I’m not writing upstairs today.”

“Writer’s block?”

“No,” she said, trying to hide tears welling
up in her eyes.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

She couldn’t tell him Zoe was spending
Christmas with her father.

“Come on. You can tell me,” he said,
softly.

She longed to tell him, to fall into his
arms and cry. But her lie prevented her from turning to him…what
seemed like such a little lie to a total stranger had now grown
into a gigantic lie to a man she cared for.

“Zoe and I want to invite you to join us on
Thanksgiving.” Kit changed the subject.

“Great…thanks for the invite. I’ll be
here.”

She left him to wrestle with the chimney on
his own, retreating to the third floor to read more of Mary’s
letters; sure she’d get strength from Mary.

Letter number thirty-four

Dear Dan,

I did something bad today. I got so mad at
you for getting caught, being MIA, I threw out your seashell
collection. Yes, the three cans of shells from our trip to Cape Cod
two years ago. I know you were saving those for something special.
I feel terrible. Sometimes I get so mad you’re not here I want to
scream or break something. So I lost control and threw the cans in
the garbage.

I’ve already started a new piggy bank to
save up to take you back to Cape Cod to replace those shells. I
hope you’re not mad at me. I hope you understand. I don’t remember
a time or any dumb thing I ever did you didn’t understand, Dan. So
add this to your list.

Sam Lastly died. Beth got word yesterday.
Every time someone I know dies over there, I get nervous about you.
Are you still alive? Its thirty-four weeks now with no word. I keep
praying. I have started lighting a candle in the window for you.
Just one. In the living room window. Our neighbors noticed it and
now they’re lighting a candle for you, too. You should see our
street; every house has a candle in the living room window for
you.

I’m hoping you have food and a blanket.
Winter is coming on quickly. I’ll have to shovel the snow, maybe
learn to lay a fire without you. So damn it, get your rear end back
here! The bed keeps getting colder, but don’t worry, I won’t be
finding any other warm body. It has to be you or no one, Dan.

All my love,

Mary

Letter number thirty-five

Dear Dan,

Don’t listen to Cathy O’Brien. I did not
sleep with her brother, Roger. I don’t care what he told her, all I
did was take a ride home from him from the Kiwanis social. Yes, I
did dance with a few fellows there, but no slow dances. Roger
wanted to get familiar with me in the car, but I let him know I
wasn’t interested. So he lied to Cathy. Anyway, this is my
unequivocal “no”; I did not let Roger lay a finger on me.

I’m knitting a blanket for you just in case
they tell us we can send stuff to you. When they find you. I know
they will. I hope they will. Where are you, Dan?

The winter is cold. Gray days seem to
stretch forever here. I worry you are cold and hungry. Sometimes I
can’t eat when I think you may not have any food. Are you still
alive? I love you more each day. I’ll be here when you get back. I
pray for peace or at least a cease-fire. Sometimes I march, too.
Hang on, Dan.

Love,

Mary

* * * *

Mary’s strength flowed right from the paper
into Kit’s heart. She returned downstairs, listening to Tunney on
the phone.

“I need Bruno, here, no later than tomorrow.
Mrs. Hadley can wait. You have the address. Tell him, my mother’s
house. He knows the place. Tomorrow, no later than nine a.m. Right.
Thanks.”

“Didn’t know you could be so…commanding…”
she said, walking into the bedroom.

She stopped at the threshold to stare. There
he was, his shirt off, his pants off, standing in his boxers in the
large fireplace, his hair and face half covered in soot with a
smear rubbed across his bare chest. Kit couldn’t take her eyes off
him.

He turned to look at her. “This is too messy
to do in my clothes. Didn’t expect you back down so soon. I hope
you don’t mind,” he said, turning back to the chimney.

Kit’s mouth went as dry as the dust on the
third floor. Her pulse kicked into high gear as she stared at his
beautifully muscled chest, covered with dark, fine hair, continuing
in a line down his flat stomach, disappearing below the waistband
of his boxers. His shoulders were as wide as the Atlantic Ocean,
his waist trim. His thighs were strong and lean, like his calves.
His butt was cute. Her eyes trailed all the way down his body then
back up again, drinking in the absolute maleness of him, making her
heart beat faster.

“I don’t mind,” she squeaked.

“What’s wrong with you?” He looked straight
at her.

Her face colored and her hand waved up and
down.

“Not like I’m naked or anything. Just the
same as if I were wearing swim trunks…didn’t you once say something
like that to me?” he remarked shooting his lopsided grin at
her.

His sarcasm completed the picture.

“Chimneys are messy places,” he said,
pushing a small shovel as far up into the chimney as it would
go.

She stared at the muscles in his
outstretched arm. Her knees weakened. To have his strong arm around
her waist crushing her to him right then and there!
Hang the
soot!
She sank down on the rocking chair watching him,
feeling a sizzling sensation below her belly. When he looked over,
her tongue moistened her dry lips.

His gaze fell to her mouth. He smiled at
her, turning the wattage up to one thousand. She returned it,
shooting him her warmest smile. Her chest rose and fell faster.
He must feel it, too.

“Do you mind if I shower here before getting
dressed?” he asked.

“Fine. I’ll get you a towel.” A vision of
Tunney wearing nothing but a towel, fresh from the shower made
warmth creep up her chest. Her pulse shifted into overdrive as the
image lodged in her brain. Her self-control would be stretched to
the breaking point.

“The chimney sweep is coming tomorrow. He’ll
have this cleaned out, safe for use by tomorrow night.”

“Now if I just knew how to make a fire, I’d
be golden.”

“Didn’t you ever go camping?” He wiped his
hands on a rag.

“Not without a man.”

“I’ll show you. It’s easy.” He threw the
soiled towel on a piece of newspaper then tossed his clothes on a
chair with clean hands.

Her earlier mental image of him in her bed,
with the fire roaring, casting shadows on the muscles of his chest
returned to her brain in full, three-dimensional, blazing color.
She blushed, turning away so he couldn’t see. He disappeared into
the bathroom to turn on the shower. She wanted to scream. The one
man she wanted was out of reach because she’d been foolishly
afraid. Kit afraid, wouldn’t Johnny laugh!

She returned to the kitchen to start dinner,
calling up to Tunney, but he couldn’t hear her. She went upstairs
and knocked on the bathroom door.

“Are you staying for dinner?”

He opened the door, wearing a towel wrapped
around his waist. Undressed he seemed bigger, more masculine than
before. Standing in the bathroom doorway, he looked sexy as hell.
He smelled sexy, too, as the scent of pine soap drifted by her
nose. His fingers raked through his wet hair, tiny, glistening
droplets of water clung to his chest. He stood about six two with a
day’s growth on his face, only a whisper away from her. Kit looked
up into his eyes, dark with desire, and smiled seductively.

He took her in his arms and kissed her hard.
She opened her lips allowing his tongue possession of her mouth
while he crushed her against him. Her knees turned to jelly.
Propping herself up, she wound her arms around his neck. His hands
held her fast while his mouth ravished hers. Her fingers ran along
his bare shoulders, reveling in the feel of his muscles. His heat
traveled through her fingertips to her core.

He buried his face in her neck, his breath
warm against her ear.

“I’ve wanted you for a long time. You want
me, let’s get what we want…any objections?”

“None,” Her eyes closed as she melted into
the hardness of his body.

“Sure?”

“Very.” All resistance had gone.

She didn’t care about the fake marriage, or
what he thought about her. She wanted him…wanted him
now
.
Another sizzling, fierce kiss took her breath away. He slipped his
hand under her tee shirt and closed his fingers around her breast.
Kit groaned, closing her eyes as the heat from his hand traveled
down below her belly. He reached behind her and snapped open her
bra, then returned to massaging her flesh, stroking the peak gently
with his thumb, his breath growing ragged. His other hand slid down
her back, the fingers closed around her bottom and squeezed.

Kit arched into him, wanting more, her
desire spiraling quickly when she felt him get hard. He led her
into the bedroom, took the gold band off her finger and put it on
the nightstand.

“Tonight, for one night, you are going to be
mine, only mine,” he said.

He pulled her tee shirt over her head and
slipped her bra off.

“Wow,” he said, staring at her breasts.

He unzipped her jeans, slid them down, then
her pink panties. He dropped his towel and stood back.

“You are even more beautiful than…oh God…”
he murmured, his eyes raking over her body, lingering on her
breasts again, followed by his hands as he stepped closer to
her.

“Your breasts are perfect,” he said, his
smooth baritone voice caressing her.

Kit trembled at his raw passion. She looked
over his gorgeous, taut body, calling to her, his arousal evident.
Her eyes glowed with longing. He picked her up, carried her a few
steps to set her down gently on the bed, then lowered himself next
to her.

“Tunney…take me,” she whispered, her hands
on his chest, her lips kissing his neck, her hips arching into him.
Like a match to gasoline, fire lit up in his eyes as he looked her
over again before his lips began tasting her, beginning with her
mouth. They brushed slowly down her neck, creating chills down her
spine. His kissed her soft skin down to her breasts, where he
lingered for what seemed like forever. She closed her eyes, losing
herself in the exquisite sensations his touch, his lips, his tongue
created, drowning in escalating passion, excitement building
inside.

Tunney’s fingertips memorized every hill and
valley of her body, skimming over satin skin, exploring her moist
flesh, stroking her, making her shiver, cry out. He kissed her from
her neck to her toes, lingering over her core, making her tremble,
while he grew harder.

His fingers slid across her skin, lighting a
fire everywhere they touched. Caressing, squeezing, feeling,
massaging, they seemed to be everywhere.

“Your skin…so soft, so smooth,” he
breathed.

Her pent up desire unleashed, Kit molded her
body to his, hooking her leg around his waist so close they were as
one. The lightest feathery whisper of her lips on his shoulder or
her fingers digging into his back elicited deep groans from Tunney.
She wanted him to touch her, needed to touch him. The warmth from
his fingertips, his body, thawed out the wall of ice protecting her
wounded heart.

Her hands explored his chest, combing
through his soft dark fur, traveling to his back and down to rest
on his butt.

“Do you want me?” His voice was thick with
desire.

His fingers found a sensitive spot between
her legs. Stroking her there made her pant, building heat inside
her quickly.

“God…yes.”

“Tell me.”

“Tunney…oh…”

One then another finger disappeared inside
her making her moan. Her hips began to move with the rhythm of his
hand. She reached down and wound her fingers around his hardness. A
small sound escaped his throat.

“Tell me. I want to hear you say it.” He
demanded, sliding his thigh between hers, opening her legs
wider.