Summer at Seaside Cove (35 page)

“I think he's hoping for another slice of cake,” Dorothy whispered to Jamie.

“Again, I'm not deaf,” Melvin barked. “And if you're offering, I suppose I could force down another piece.

“Humph. I suppose you'll be wanting another cup of coffee, too,” said Dorothy.

“If you insist.”

Dorothy looked toward the ceiling, then turned to Jamie. “Good thing I made two cakes since I promised Nick a piece as well. Would you be a dear and bring it to him?” She lowered her voice. “I'd do it myself but it appears I have a
guest.
”

“Still not deaf,” Melvin called from the other room. “Good Lord, woman, you can't whisper worth a whit.”

Jamie pressed her lips together to keep from laughing and ignored the combination of anticipation and trepidation that raced through her at the thought of delivering Nick's cake. He'd turned down her lunch invite earlier today, and she'd sensed there was more to the reason than simply wanting to take another swim.
You scratched his itch and now he's done with you,
her inner voice whispered.

He certainly hadn't seemed done with her this morning, before Heather's arrival had interrupted them. But that was over twelve hours ago—plenty of time for his ardor to have cooled. No doubt he'd decided she and her high-maintenance family weren't worth the trouble. It's not as if a guy like him would have any problem finding a willing bed partner or as if they were anything more to each other than a quickie fling.

A pain that felt like a stab in the heart speared her and she shifted her shoulders to relieve the discomfort. “Sure, I'll deliver the cake to Nick.” Then she leaned close to Dorothy's ear. “Do you want me to stay?” She straightened and shot a pointed glance toward Melvin, who was now studying a framed black-and-white photo of a youthful Dorothy.

“Nah. He doesn't scare me. Besides, it's almost twenty-one hundred—he'll be leaving soon. You go on, dear.” She handed Jamie a Saran-wrapped paper plate holding a generous slice of hummingbird cake. “Tell that dear, sweet boy Nick I said hello.”

“Will do.”

“I'll bring you the recipe tomorrow morning,” Dorothy promised with a hug. “Bright and early.”

“Not
too
bright and early,” Jamie said with a laugh. “ 'Night, Melvin,” she called from the doorway.

Melvin jerked his head up from the photograph, and for a single heartbeat, Jamie thought she caught a softening in his usual dour expression. But then his brows dropped into his normal scowl and she decided it must have just been a trick of the light.

“Yeah, yeah, g'night, Newman,” he mumbled.

Jamie descended the wooden stairs, then headed across the street to Southern Comfort. She skirted around Nick's truck in the carport and climbed the stairs. As soon as she knocked on the screen door, Godiva started barking and raced into the kitchen.

“Hey, girl,” Jamie said through the screen. “How ya doin'?”

Godiva answered with a prancing, dancing, barking display. Seconds later Nick strode into view and halted at the sight of her. Their gazes met through the screen door and Jamie's lungs sort of forgot how to work. He wore a pair of faded jeans that hugged him in all the right places, and a black T-shirt that bore streaks of what appeared to be sawdust. His hair was rumpled and a hint of stubble shaded his jaw. He looked big and strong and sexy and gorgeous and he put everything female in her on red alert, especially when he began walking toward the door.

“Hi,” she said as he silently approached. “Dorothy asked if I'd deliver this piece of cake she promised you.” Good grief, she sounded positively breathless. As if she'd sprinted the entire length of the island rather than walked across the street. When he reached the door, he gave Godiva the signal to heel and she stepped back so he could push it open. “You were so sweet today, I figured it was the least I could do—”

Her words were cut off when in a single motion he took the cake and set it on the counter with one hand, while dragging her through the open door and pulling her against him with the other. Before she could suck in a much-needed breath, his mouth was on hers, and his hands were . . . God, they were everywhere, impatient and just a little rough, molding her against him like melted wax. Which was just fine because that's exactly what she felt like.

In some small recess of her mind, it vaguely registered that he'd kicked the door shut. That he'd lifted her straight up and, with his lips fused to hers and his tongue stroking deep inside her mouth, had walked her toward his bedroom. That somewhere along the way her flip-flops fell off. Then he kicked the bedroom door shut as well and she thought she heard Godiva give a mournful whine, but the sound was drowned out by the echo of her heartbeat pounding through her.

One second he was kissing her into a quivering blob and the next she landed on the mattress with a bounce. She gulped in some desperately needed air, but again he stopped her lungs when he whipped his T-shirt over his head and tossed the garment aside. With his hot, intense gaze zeroed in on her like a laser beam, he unbuttoned his jeans and pulled down the zipper halfway.

Wow, wow, holy cow. Dots swam before her eyes, no doubt from lack of oxygen. God help her, she didn't know where to look first. Her hungry gaze skimmed over his broad chest, then down his ridged abdomen and settled on his erection, straining against the white cotton of his underwear. Without a word he reached for her, and before she could even find her voice to utter
let's get naked
, those magical hands of his made her shorts, panties, and tank top disappear.

Then he dropped to his knees next to the bed, slid his hands beneath her, and dragged her to him. His mouth was
oooh
, right
there
, and his fingers,
aaaah
, right
there
—stroking, delving, teasing, caressing, relentless, propelling her toward climax at breakneck speed. Her orgasm struck her like a lightning bolt, dragging a sharp cry from her throat.

Aftershocks of delight were still rippling through her when she heard a tearing sound. She managed to drag her eyes open in time to see Nick impatiently shove his jeans and boxer briefs low enough to free his erection, then roll on a condom. In the next heartbeat his body covered hers, pressing her into the mattress. He entered her in a single breath-stealing deep thrust. Their groans mingled, and then his mouth once again covered hers and the magic began all over again. Jamie wrapped her arms and legs around him, meeting each thrust until her body tightened and she once again hovered on the edge of release.

Nick broke off their kiss and dragged his mouth across her jaw. “Come with me, Jamie.
Now
.” That command, spoken against her ear in that ragged, harsh whisper, pushed her over the edge into another shattering climax. He clasped her to him, and with a long groan, buried his face against her neck as shudders racked his entire body.

She lay beneath him, a panting, boneless heap. A good minute passed before she felt capable of speech. And even then she only managed a heartfelt, “Wow.”

He lifted his head and she forced her eyes open. And found him looking down at her through slumberous eyes. “Yeah. Wow.”

“That was some greeting. I was only expecting a hello. Maybe a kiss.”

“Did I not say hello?”

“Um, no. As best as I can recall, the first words you actually spoke were ‘come with me, Jamie.' For the record, they were pretty darn fantastic first words, and you'll note that I follow directions very well.”

“Noted. And since I deprived you of the greeting you expected . . .” He lowered his head and gently touched his mouth to hers. This kiss was soft, lingering, and tender . . . the complete opposite of the demanding, impatient, devouring kiss he'd given her at the door. Where that kiss had made her heart race, this one . . . this one simply melted it. Especially when he raised his head just enough to whisper, “Hello.”

The word blew warm and soft against her lips and something inside Jamie seemed to shift, leaving a yawning space that immediately flooded with an intoxicating warmth that made her feel as if heated honey ran through her veins.

“Hi.” She raised her arms above her head and stretched beneath him, reveling in the delicious feel of his weight on top of her. “You really are full of surprises. This afternoon you were Mr. Sweet and Charming, and now tonight you're . . .” She heaved a gushy sigh. “Mr.
Oh, My
.”

He tucked a stray curl behind her ear. “I'd been thinking about you and when you showed up, I just couldn't keep my hands off you.”

“You didn't seem to have a problem keeping them off me at the beach.”

He raised a brow. “Wanna bet? The effort damn near killed me.”

There was no denying the relief that filled her that it wasn't just her who'd had to expend that effort.

His gaze searched hers, intent and serious. “But I picked up on a definite hands-off vibe from you—and in case it missed your notice, you never touched me all day, either. The question is, was it hands off because you didn't want any PDA in front of your niece, or because last night was all you wanted from me?”

Her life would certainly be much less complicated if she were able to write him off as a one-night stand and ignore these unwanted feelings he was stirring up inside her. But that definitely wasn't the case. “Hands off was for Heather's benefit. I didn't want her to feel as if she was interrupting or that I didn't want her there. She feels that sting enough at home. As for the other, I'd be branded World's Biggest Liar if I said I didn't want a repeat of last night. How about you?”

He expelled a short laugh. “You're asking a guy who pounced on you like he was starved and you were brisket parmigiana, who had you naked in under a minute, and who couldn't even wait to get his own clothes all the way off before making love to you. That answer your question, princess?”

“Yes. And for the record, I really,
really
liked being that brisket parmigiana. Which means once again we agree.”

He nuzzled her neck with his warm lips. “That's getting to be a habit.”

“Yes.” And it suddenly occurred to her that
he
could become a habit. Yes, the way he touched her . . . she could definitely become addicted to that. Which was a scary thought indeed.

“Since we're in agreement, how about a nice, warm shower, then I'll show you that, all evidence to the contrary when you arrived, I'm actually capable of slow and easy.” He lifted his head and offered her a lopsided grin. “Especially now that the edge is off.”

“I can't spend the night. I don't think it would be right with Heather—”

He stopped her words with a kiss. “I understand. And I agree.”

“Yikes.
Really
getting to be a habit.”

“Yeah.” His gaze searched hers. “I think maybe
you're
getting to be a habit, Jamie.”

She blinked. “Is your superpower mindreading? Because I just thought the same thing about you.”

“No.” His gaze remained serious for several seconds, then fire flared in the green depths. “Wanna see what my superpower really is?”

“I already know. I'm not sure what you call it, but it involves your magical hands and that incredible thing you do with your tongue. Yowza.” A shiver of delight rippled through her at the memory. “You truly are a Super Man.”

“What if I told you that's not it?”

Her eyes widened. “You're joking. You haven't already showed me? There's
more?
It gets
better
?”

He rolled them so that she was on top. “Sweetheart, I haven't
begun
to show you.”

“Be still my heart. You'll recall that I can't spend the night.”

“I remember. And I'm leaving early in the morning to go to Kevin's.”

Disappointment flooded her. “How long will you be gone?”

“A few days. How late can you stay tonight?”

“Another hour.”

He tangled his fingers in her hair and dragged her mouth down to his. “Damn. That doesn't leave me much superpower time.”

“Okay, two hours. But then I really need to leave.”

“Then let's make the most of the short amount of time we have left.”

Their lips met, and her last thought before she forgot everything else was that their time wasn't short just tonight. With her return to New York a mere four weeks away, they didn't have much time left at all.

“
N
ick, you know I think of you like a brother, right?” asked Kevin.

Nick didn't look up from the bead of caulk he was running along the shoe molding in the new playroom. Once he finished, the room would be ready for painting. “Yeah. I'm your BFADM.”

“Huh?”

“Brother from a different mother.” He glanced at Kevin over his shoulder. His friend stood in the doorway, his weight balanced on his crutches. “We're apparently also BFFs.”

Kevin scrunched up his face. “Big football fanatics?”

“Good guess, but no. Best friends forever.”

“Where are you getting this stuff? Have you been reading Liz's
People
magazine again?”

Nick laughed. “No. Jamie's teenage niece caught me up on some of the lingo.”

Kevin nodded. “Well, I'm glad you know I consider you my bro. So you know I'm asking this with manly affection and all that shit. When the hell are you going home?”

Nick set down his caulk gun and slowly rose to his feet. “Today, apparently.”

Kevin raked a hand through his hair. “Look, you know how much I appreciate your help. No way could I have gotten through all this without you. My business would have fallen apart while I've been laid up if not for you.”