The Maverick's Red Hot Reunion (Entangled Indulgence) (4 page)

She tossed her copper hair. “Hope I don’t have to carry you down.”

His libido zoomed at high velocity through his veins. “No worries.” He knelt and peered inside the gap. Her foot was lodged between a pair of two-by-fours. “There’s a squirrels’ nest on the rafters. We’ll have to set traps.”

“You aren’t going to kill any squirrels on my watch,” she said. “I don’t like the problems they cause, but I don’t want to see them hurt.”

“The traps will be humane.” He touched her shoulder. “I promise.”

She trembled, then wiggled out of his reach. “Better set a lot. Squirrels have made a comeback in Sweetbriar Springs.”

“The manager should never have decapitated that snake six years ago.” She’d jumped into his arms screaming when she’d first discovered the five foot black snake’s remains. And man, he had enjoyed the hell out of holding her until she calmed down. “Population exploded.”

“Don’t remind me. I still hate thinking about that rat snake’s headless body.” She shuddered. “Please focus. I don’t want to be stuck up here all day.”

His chest squeezed. Strange sensations, protectiveness and tenderness, ached inside his ribcage. “Afraid of me, too?” he asked.

She looked at him, then shifted her glance away. “As if.” He moved old shingles out of the way and slipped his hand down her leg to find the top of her boot. “I’ll get your heel out of this mess with minimal damage to the merchandise.”

“
Merchandise?
” She arched her brow. “You’d better be talking about the roof.”

His gaze lingered on her light skin where the pulse jumped in her neck. He itched to draw a line from the tiny freckle alongside the tender hollow all the way to her moist, pink lips.

“Of course.” He jerked the lace free on her boot, sightlessly felt for the back.

“Careful. I just bought this pair.”

“Your boot’s in good hands.”

He tugged her foot out, caressed the arch with a sweep of his hand until he reached the taut curve of her calf as he slowly pulled her leg through the jagged gap. “You’re free—feel like you can walk or do you want me to carry you?”

He heard her sharp intake of breath. She’d enjoyed that touch, the sweep of his hand massaging her.

She gave him a piercing look and rotated her ankle. “I can walk.”

Kennedy reached inside the hole and grabbed her boot by the laces. She plunked it onto the roof, slipped it on, and tied the strings with a violent pull and twist.

“Now go,” she said. “I’ll be down in twenty.”

“What? No
thank you
? No hug for old times’ sake for my daring rescue?”

“Thank you,” she said, her voice prim.

He stood and pulled her to her feet. “You’re welcome.” Her soft hand felt right in his, the familiar satin between the rough edges of her calluses a welcoming home.

Her breath came faster, her chest rising and falling as if she had the same thought.

“Zach.” Her voice was tainted with a sharp, painful edge. “Please let me go.”

She asked, but she hadn’t tried to break their contact. Her pupils enlarged, transformed into a glittering black. Color high in her cheeks burnished her freckles into a deep shade of bronze. He felt her heat, inhaled her feminine scent of flowers and desire—another welcoming awaited should he close the distance between them.

His groin tightened. He wanted to taste the fullness of her mouth and sink his fingers into her copper waves. Instead he lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed the soft underside, kissed each callus, traced the lines of her palm with a whisper of his lips.

A promise made in the light of the day under a canopy of golden trees and bright blue skies.

A promise to have her in the dark of the night beneath the steel of his body and the weight of his passion.

A promise she would not refuse to answer when the time was right. And definitely not one he’d push for while standing on top of a rickety roof with zero safety net to catch him should he fall.

…

The feel of Zach’s warm palm against hers lanced deep. Her pulse beat in her neck, her wrists, her temples. Heat crept into her face, prickled her nape, licked along her thighs.

Her legs trembled and she flushed hotter when she recognized the desire in Zach’s charged and commanding brown eyes. She forced herself to breathe, to cool the fire he’d stoked. When her wildly beating heart slowed, she pulled her hand free.

Zach swayed slightly, worrying her. What if he lost his balance? He should have sent Caleb to check on her. Now she wanted to get Zach off the roof before he fell. “You should go so I can finish my inspection,” she said. “After I come down, I’ll compare paint chips and fabric swatches.”

“You’re done climbing roofs.” He widened his stance. “Send a crew member up to finish.”

“I’m perfectly capable…”

“Not taking any chances with my contractor getting hurt.”

His voice sounded rough, uneven. She heard his unspoken fear of heights and the tinge of concern for her underscoring his order. He still cared. But she couldn’t let the knowledge impact her decision to stay out of his arms and away from his bed.

Rather than argue or risk him going through a vertigo attack, she nodded. “If you insist.” She could yield to this request, but she could not yield to his seductive, sexy ways. Not if she wanted to spare herself from the heartache it would bring afterward.

Zach descended the scaffolding first, then she followed, careful to maintain her distance. When she jumped off the last rung and hit the dirt, Zach had already disappeared, but Caleb stood beside the building, first aid kit in hand.

“You need any Band-Aids?” he asked.

Kennedy shook her head. “There’s nothing in that kit I need.” No amount of Band-Aids and gauze could stem the passion that Zach had reignited. “Just go up there and check for more damage. I’ll call the roofers after you give me your report.”

Caleb placed the kit on the ground next to the scaffolding. “You got it,” he said, grabbing the first rung.

“Thanks.”

As she watched Caleb climb to the top, Kennedy heard Zach’s V-rod’s distinctive roar. Her lungs expanded, pressed against her ribs. She exhaled and each molecule of frustration streamed through her lips atom by excruciating atom. Zach would ride out his frustration alone. He’d burn off his energy with the power of steel and machine.

Her? She’d have to channel her unfulfilled desires into selecting color palettes and discussing new carpeting. She sighed and headed inside the lodge to wait for the designer.

Chapter Four

Unfortunately, three hours of redecorating discussions hadn’t doused Kennedy’s internal flames. She couldn’t stop thinking about Zach’s caress and the sweep of his hand on her leg, the way he’d kissed her calluses. The way he’d made her belly flutter and fill with need, the intensity coiling low and deep.

After he’d returned and the crew had clocked out, she’d wondered if he’d look for her, tease her about what had transpired up on the roof. But he’d avoided her. Good enough, she told herself as she tucked into bed. Another heated encounter with Zach could lead to more fire. Fire they’d once stoked into passionate lovemaking. And she couldn’t yield to her body’s traitorous desire and risk exposing her heart because Zach couldn’t accept that not all problems were fixable. Not five years ago when she’d lost their baby and not now.

Zach’s reaction to Michael’s grim prognosis was all the proof she needed to strengthen her resolve. If only the force of Zach’s will could change reality, but it couldn’t. She’d accepted that bitter truth years ago.

But still she yearned.

By midnight, still awake and reading a book, Kennedy heard Zach’s door open and close. He’d probably decided to hunt for food in the kitchen. Her own stomach clenched painfully. Her handful of nuts and candy corn had evaporated hours ago. She waited, breathless, for the sound of Zach’s return. Then she’d sneak to the pantry and grab some food.

Five minutes stretched into ten. Ten to twenty.

Finally, her tummy griped loudly and squeezed. She twisted out of her covers. She’d make a ham and cheese sandwich, grab a soda, and eat in her room.

Tying her robe, she slipped her feet into a pair of silver flip-flops. Kennedy clippety-clapped to the lobby and to the kitchen, then peeked inside.

The hazel and tan speckled granite counters gleamed under the square florescent light. Soon brand new industrial stainless steel appliances would replace the tired, dented, and outdated fridges and ovens.

Zach stood by the new center island, which he’d covered with the fixings for a deli sandwich. A pair of drawstring pants hugged his bottom, a tight V-neck shirt caressed his muscular chest, and a pair of mocs covered his bare feet. His casual outfit reminded her of other weekends when she’d discovered him noshing at midnight.

Something inside her heart twisted. The memory of watching him make similar sandwiches surfaced. Sandwiches on bread she’d often purchased at the local bakery. Then they’d taken their picnics to the hot springs on their days off.

She swallowed. Hard. Memory or not, she’d disappear—she couldn’t go inside the kitchen. Not when she wanted so much more than a sandwich and a soda. Her rebellious stomach growled, and his head snapped her way.

He locked his cocoa-colored eyes onto hers. “Hungry?”

The food looked mouthwatering, but Zach looked even more temptingly edible.

How she longed to run her hands through his sleep-tousled hair. She so wanted to walk behind him, wrap her arms around his waist, kiss the back of his neck. What would it feel like to have him return her caresses after all these years? To have that casual intimacy?

In years past, they’d forget the food and feed a more interesting hunger, which always began with a sensual, promising kiss.

“I’ll come back later,” she said, edging away.

“You may as well make something while I’ve got all this stuff out.” He raised his brow. “No point in waiting by the sound of your belly.”

She inhaled the aroma of the multi-grain bread he’d just cut. Her stomach grumbled again, this time at a louder decibel. Zach held up the provolone cheese slices. “You know you want to—come on, Kennedy. You can’t let your blood sugar dip. It makes you cranky.”

They’d had one fast rule when they’d lived together: feed Kennedy or pay the consequences. Her metabolism had always chewed through her calories quickly. She had a difficult time closing the lid on her temper when her stomach was empty and squeezing with hunger.

“You promise to behave?” she asked.

“Only if you don’t tempt me,” he said.

“No problem.” She walked to the counter. “Pass the knife.”

Kennedy sliced the aromatic multi-grain bread. “Smells so good,” she said. So did the man slathering mayo on the slices.

An ache coiled through her ribs and twined into a knot inside her throat. She’d given away her chance of happiness, yet her heart had known all along how much she’d missed these simple moments during those years.

A tic jumped in Zach’s temple. “Mustard?” he asked.

“Yes, please.”

He spread it across the bread. His knuckles had turned white and his arm muscles corded into knots.

“Lettuce? Ham?” he asked in a low, controlled tone.

Blood thrummed through her veins. Though he’d not broken his pledge, everything in her wanted to unleash the attraction Zach visibly restrained.

Stop. Stop. Stop.

They’d make their sandwiches. Eat alone. End of story.

She moved a fraction away. “I’ll get the sodas.”

“Make mine a beer.”

She grabbed a Coke and a beer from the fridge and returned to the island.

“Have you spoken to Michael about the renovation of the hot springs site?” she asked. “Does he like the plans to make the spa modern, environmentally blended?”

He popped the top of his beer can and took a long gulp. “Yes. He’s excited. Sending us specs of another resort’s green theme. He’s eager to see how we top our competition with the springs as an added attraction.”

Watching him swallow his drink gave Kennedy a funny ache in her windpipe. A simple moment, but one layered with thousands of memories. “He always was a sucker for that legend.”

He took a bite, chewed and swallowed. “If only it were true.”

The ache in her throat tightened. The waters had the power to soothe and relax, but to heal? No. If that had been the case, she’d have tested that myth years ago and the reason for her miscarriage would have been cured. The sandwich she’d made no longer appealed but she bit into the bread and forced the sour mess through her knotted throat.

“Then he’d be here, and you’d be in New York or Milan or wherever it is that your company needs you,” she said after she forced down another bite. “Instead he’s going to Tallahassee’s University Hospital for a research clinical trial. And…”

“And we wouldn’t be in this jam. Me wanting you. You wanting me and not acting on it. But we are,” he said, “because Michael’s dying. And there’s not a damn thing we can do to stop the disease from ravaging his body. There’s nothing we can do for him except rebuild this place.”

Her heart echoed Zach’s despair. Kennedy placed her hand on his. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” he asked. “For what happened five years ago? For now? For Michael’s disease?”

“I’m sorry for the hurt in your heart.”
And for the pain in hers
.

“I want him back. I want my friend the way he was before the ALS was diagnosed.”

His raw emotion fractured the air between them. How often had she cried similar words, but for a different loss? How often had he? For a brief beat she wondered if Zach would bring up what had happened after she’d miscarried Brianna. Her throat tightened and tears pricked the back of her eyes. She laced her fingers through his and rested her head on his shoulder.

“I want him back, too. He’s our friend.”
And he’d once agreed to be Zach’s best man.
“Maybe the clinical trial’s drugs will work, and he’ll live longer than we expect.”

“Two to five years,” Zach said. “It’s not enough time.”

The kitchen equipment hummed, subdued, muted. “He could live a lot longer. And research might buy him more quality time,” she said softly. “Have faith.”

“I lost my faith five years ago,” Zach said, his voice cracking.

His desolation echoed hers. She couldn’t bear the agony pulsing between them, the sadness sweeping through her soul. And through his. No longer able to keep her distance, Kennedy brought Zach’s hand to her mouth and brushed her lips against his cool fingers, wanting to comfort him. And wanting to comfort herself, if only for a moment.

“Kennedy.” He closed his hand around hers, drawing it away ever so slightly. “I warned you not to tempt me.”

His pupils were piercingly black against his caramel irises. Eyes with a savage desperation sparking in them. Eyes with a wicked gleam, wild and filled with dark desires and heat.

Heat and desire she could no longer refuse.

Her heart thrummed in her ears, faster and faster, as her blood raced through her veins. Her skin goose-bumped and her breasts firmed. Her nipples peaked into tight points.

She pressed her free hand against his chest, felt his strong pulse pumping. The intensity of his emotions scorched her, branded her as his to claim. She’d surrender, but in no way would it bring closure to the intensity of their attraction. And then what would happen to her fragile heart?

The answer was lost in the resurgence of her reawakened desire.

He raked his fingers through her hair and anchored her head, then slowly tugged her toward him. His intoxicating scent wove its way into her senses like a drug. She could hear the pounding of his heart in his chest, his ragged breathing, and feel his need in his arousal.

Kennedy wrapped her arms around him and explored the broad expanse of his muscular back. Rippling tension corded through him as she stroked and held on to him.

He slanted his mouth over hers and she lost herself in his kiss.

Over and over he plunged his tongue into her mouth, dancing intimately with hers. She felt the storm surging through Zach’s body, the crushing pressure of his muscles tightening as he held her.

He pinned her against the counter and stroked her arms, the tender skin above her neckline. He kissed her cheeks, her neck, her chest where it was bared by her nightgown. She grasped his hair, twisted it in her hands and held him against her, and raised her breasts to him.

Flames flicked down her thighs and heat spiraled in her belly, low and deep. She wanted so much more. “Zach, please.”

He grasped her hand and held it above her head, stroked the tender length of her arm. “Tell me,” he whispered.

Heat flashed through her nerves and fired longing to all her pulse points. Her breasts grew heavy, her nipples pebbled, her clitoris tightened. Every part of her body responded to his touch, his mouth, his hands, as if they’d only been separated for days, not years.

She lifted her hips and moved against his rigid length. Wanting relief from the pressure building. Relief that only Zach could give. “I want,” she said.

She wanted more than this. More than her hands in his hair, his mouth on hers. She wanted to strip herself bare and lie with him. Feel him move in her.

“Say it,” he commanded. “Tell me what you want, Kennedy.”

…

Zach slipped Kennedy’s robe off her shoulders. It fell soundlessly to the kitchen floor. Her nightgown, shimmery and sexy and short, concealed very little. His groin tightened.

He licked a line along her exposed skin and kissed her neck. “Tell me what you want,” he asked again when he felt her tremble.

She parted her lips, licked the swollen lower one, and inhaled. Her nostrils flared and her eyes blazed bright green. “You,” she said. “I want you.”

Zach heard the passion in her voice, the desire in her sultry reply. He caressed her waist, dipped his hand lower over the swell of her hips, and cupped her bottom. He pulled her against his hardness.

He’d waited days to get her to bend, to yield to his body. This time he wouldn’t make the mistake of letting her get away.

He sealed her mouth with his, feasting, their tongues tangling and dueling in a frenzied dance. She tasted tangy and delicious. He was intoxicated by her kiss. She was like a drug, one he couldn’t get enough of, and he lost all sense of reality. He was bewitched and bedazzled by her mouth. He couldn’t think. He could only feel.

His blood roared in his ears, thundered through his arteries, and pooled in his groin. He wanted her in ways he couldn’t articulate. Ways he refused to acknowledge. Ways he’d never confess to again.

Not even to himself.

His body remembered every nuance of hers, every way to bring her to the brink. She bent to his will on instinct, curving into him and molding against his chest, his hips, his thighs as if they’d never been apart.

She yielded completely, perfectly, passionately.

With remembered intimacy.

Her mouth on his was like coming home, like cresting the top tier of the tallest roller coaster in the world and zooming down the tracks at a dizzying speed. A thrilling exhilaration with swoops and twirls and dips that took away all thought, all worries, all problems.

He kissed her ear, the long column of her neck, caressed the swell of her breasts through the sheer fabric of her silver nightgown. Her nipples tightened beneath the pad of his thumb. Her answering pant excited him more.

He could take her now, here, but he wanted to take her in his bed. Another emotion stirred, one that propelled his physical desire, his memory of the pleasure of taking her night after passionate night.

An emotion that rushed with the love that had once bound them.

Zach moved his hand down her torso, covered her flat abdomen where long ago she’d carried his child. She stilled.

He wrenched his mouth from hers, stroked her face, her cheeks, her strong jaw. “Kennedy, sweet Kennedy,” he said. “God, how I’ve missed being with you.”

A dark cloud cast a shadow over her passionate eyes. Her face drained of all color, paled into a translucent white. Even her dots of freckles had lost their coppery luster.

“This has to stop. Now,” she said. “We can’t be together.”

His chest constricted. The brittle lines marring her beautiful face—her stony voice—stirred his old wounds. His veins roared with the shock of how her kiss, her desire for him, had unwrapped his tightly held knots of resentment and left him vulnerable, exposing his heart.