Soul Weaver Page 18

  Forever passed in uneven heartbeats as she followed the path down to where he stood, releasing her grip long enough to seek his hand. When their skin touched, their bond crackled and they both sighed with relief. His heart clenched and he wished the moment were private, the sight of her his alone to savor.

  “You look beautiful tonight, Ms. McCrea, but then”—he cleared his throat—“you always do.”

  “Thank you.” Her cheeks turned a complimentary shade of red. “I didn’t want to overdress, but Neve said…” She released his hand and straightened his tie. Something so familiar in the gesture told him she’d done it often. “Sorry, my dad had the same trouble with his knots.” She smiled up at him. “You look very handsome.”

  Before he replied, Neve pushed through the door. “Are we ready out here?” Long-stemmed glasses hung between her fingers and a bottle of wine was tucked under her arm. Her other hand held a bowl of mixed salad greens balanced on top of a pair of small plates.

  “We are.” He offered Chloe his arm while Neve set up their table, then disappeared inside the store. “Would you care to join me for dinner?”

  Her small hand fit in the crook of his elbow as he led her to the makeshift table and pulled a bucket out, topping it with a pillow she probably recognized as coming from her couch.

  “Thank you.” She took her seat and laughed while he pushed in her chair with his foot.

  He sat across from her and had to agree Neve was right. She glowed as bright as any star in the heavens. “You’re welcome.”

  Her shoe bumped his, and even that small contact made her shoulders relax.

  “Be careful because this stuff is hot, hot, hot.” The table wobbled when Neve dropped their plates, then blew on her hands. “My warming tray at home isn’t quite as effective as Chloe’s.”

  “Are you okay?” Chloe started to rise, but Neve pushed her down.

  “I’m fine. Ignore me. Pretend I’m invisible.” She glanced his way. “You have the store’s number, right?” He nodded. “Good. I’ll head upstairs and get back to work. Call when you’re ready for dessert.”

  Once the door closed behind Neve, Chloe let out a laugh. “Part of me says she’s being a good friend by helping you out, but the other part feels as if we’re being conveniently chaperoned.”

  She glanced up, checking the windows for signs of Neve, which was not where he wanted her attention focused.

  He poured them each a glass of wine and raised his in a toast. “To first dates.”

  Her gaze strayed over his shoulder as she did the same. “We’re barely six feet from the door.”

  “Are we?” He begged her with his gaze to play along. “I didn’t notice.”

  “My mistake. I must have gotten some of that moonlit sky stuck in my eye.” She tossed the salad and plated a portion for each of them. “I hope you don’t mind if I skimp on the lettuce, but the smell of our main course has been driving me nuts for the past hour.”

  Since his palate rarely stretched beyond what could be delivered, his stomach growled in appreciation. He’d been too nervous to eat earlier. Afraid he wouldn’t finish getting ready in time or wouldn’t clean up to her standards.

  “I don’t mind.” His tone must have implied his question for him. “It smells great.”

  “It’s fusilli with summer tomato sauce, or so says the chef.” She picked up her fork and dug in. Three bites later, they had finished off the handful of leaves she’d given each of them. She plated the pasta with much more vigor and a low hum of anticipation.

  “Delicious.” Her first bite left a smudge on her lips, one her tongue didn’t let go to waste.

  He traced its path in envy. Turning to his food, he tried to savor the dish. But Chloe looked much more interesting. She alternated nibbling on a garlic roll and picking her way through the corkscrew pastas on her plate.

  Caught staring, he smiled when she dabbed her mouth with a napkin. “Did I miss some sauce or something?”

  “No.” Her quick little tongue made certain of that.

  She placed her napkin on the table and took a sip of wine. When she set her fork on her napkin, he understood he’d made her uncomfortable. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have stared.”

  “You’re fine.” She reached for his hand. “I should save room for dessert anyway. It’s not every day someone bakes chocolate soufflé. I hope it rises. My oven isn’t a believer in consistent temperature.”

  Almost on cue, the phone in Nathaniel’s pocket rang. A fire alarm blared and choking coughs pierced his ears. A woman’s strangled voice cut through the noise. He knocked his bucket over when he stood. “Neve?”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Fear slashed harsh lines through Nathaniel’s usually placid exterior. His bucket rolled from beneath him and thumped against the railing. When he paced into the darker half of the porch, Chloe closed her eyes and clenched her fists in the tablecloth.

  “Remember to breathe,” she said to herself. “He’s right there. I could take four steps and touch him if I had to.”

  Walking onto the porch was one thing. Being left alone on it in the dark? Not happening.

  His head jerked up and he strode to her side in less time than it would have taken to call his name. “Sorry,” he muttered, then turned his attention back to his caller. “Neve? You did what? Hold on and I’ll ask her.” He glanced down. “Neve wanted me to ask if your fire alarm is hardwired into the building.” She told him no and got to her feet, half expecting flames to lick up the side of her store.

  “Chloe said no, so you need to pry the cover off and pull the batteries out. Are you sure you don’t want me to—” He frowned. “No, the fire department can’t monitor—” Pinching the bridge of his nose, he said, “Fine. I’ll tell her. Open a window and turn the exhaust fan on. If you need help, call. I’ll keep the phone in my pocket.” His eyes met Chloe’s. “I’ll keep her occupied while you clean up.” His smile made her tremble. “It would be my pleasure.”

  He closed the phone and slipped it into his shirt pocket. “Dessert has been postponed indefinitely.”

  “So I figured.” Above them, the slide of windows opening drew her attention. “Nothing is on fire, right?” The scent of char and burned chocolate reached her nose. “I’m going up there.”

  “No.” He caught her arm. “You’re staying right here. With me.”

  “But I should—”

  “Enjoy the rest of our date? Yes, you should.” His gaze drifted up as coughs and sneezes broke the quiet night. “She’ll call if she needs us.”

  “I don’t know…”

  A tug on her wrist reeled her in close. He pressed warm lips to hers, and the taste of wine and man filled her mouth.

  “You don’t play fair.” She sighed into his kiss.

  “I don’t play with you.” His eyes sparkled beneath the tiny Christmas lights. “Everything about you, I take very seriously.” Threading his fingers through her hair, he brought a handful of curls to his nose. “From the way you smell.” His lips closed over hers a second time. “To the way you taste.” His calloused hands rubbed her bare shoulders. “To the way you feel. All of it, all of you, means too much for me to play games.”

  Unable to form a complete sentence, she hoped her blush wasn’t too telling.

  Guiding her toward the railing, he flipped on the radio and pushed the Play button. As a slow song drifted from the speakers, he held out his hand. “May I have this dance?”

  “I never learned how.” She stepped back, but he followed.

  “I’ll tell you a secret.” He leaned down so his breath blew warm across her throat. “I didn’t either.”

  “Then why offer?” She laughed.

  “I have another confession to make. I haven’t dated much, and not in a very long time.” When he kissed her pulse point, she shivered. “I asked Neve for suggestions. She gave me some pointers and promised if the music was slow enough, we could fake it.”

  “Ah. I wondered what kept her grinning al
l week.” She shook her head. “I should have known she was up to no good.”

  Cool air nipped at her neck when he pulled back. “You’re not enjoying yourself?” He grimaced. “This was a foolish idea.”

  “No, this is great, better than anything I imagined. I am definitely enjoying myself.” She led him to the center of their private dance floor. “Let’s hope Neve’s right about the music.”

  He cupped her hips and her fingers linked behind his neck. With her cheek resting against his chest, she let the slow ballad guide her feet as she gazed down the quiet street.

  She recalled a time when the roar of car engines and laughter had filled her with such longing. No boy she envisioned back then measured up to the reality of Nathaniel. This man was more than worth the wait. She buried her face in his shirt and left the past where it belonged.

  Much too soon the final notes faded, but she didn’t mind. Everything was right with her world. Upstairs, her friend rattled around. Soft curses mingled with coughing fits. Smoke faded and the scent of honeysuckle and dew filled the warm night air. In her arms stood the closest thing this girl imagined to the man of her dreams.

  His kindness humbled her and patience boosted her confidence. Small gestures and the constancy of his affection won her over more with every passing day.

  She didn’t want the night to end, didn’t want him to leave when their last danced ended, or her to wake up alone and count the hours until she saw him again.

  What she wanted was to find out if the skin of his abdomen tasted salty from the humid air or if he would shiver as she kissed her way down his stomach, where she suspected he might be ticklish. Hours could be spent working her way over his body, paying special attention to his back and shoulders, where his silver marking made her consider the difference in his taste.

  “I’m sorry about the chocolate,” he said after a while. “And the smoke.”

  Jarred by the sound of his voice, she startled. “It’s all right. Like I said, the stove’s old. The oven rack tilts to one side. All it takes is for something to bake up and ooze over the edge. Instant smoke bomb… not that I have personal experience, mind you.”

  He chuckled. “I’m sure it’s pure speculation on your part.”

  High overhead, windows kissed their frames and sealed their lips for the night.

  “I guess Neve’s ready to head home.”

  His grip tightened. “I guess so.”

  Chloe suddenly wished she’d drunk something harder than wine. Her courage stood on wobbly legs and threatened to collapse under his gaze. Uncertain where her boldness came from, she asked the question they had danced around all evening. “Is this the part where I invite you upstairs?”

  Emotions darkened his expression, shifting too quick for her to peg a single one. Hunger was there, acceptance, but so were regret and the same edge of sadness he always carried.

  “I guess that was your move to make,” she said. “I didn’t mean to step on your toes.” Nerves made her babble when she should have kept quiet. “I’ve never done this before. I didn’t mean to put you on the spot.”

  His expression finally settled—on surprise. Not the response she wanted.

  Behind her, the front door opened. “Don’t let me interrupt.” Neve pantomimed an exaggerated exit, stage left.

  Nathaniel hadn’t managed an answer of any kind, so Chloe called to Neve before she reached the shadows. “Did you have any more trouble?”

  Neve paused, as if deciding whether to slink off or respond. “I got the mess cleaned up. The batter spilled, that’s all. The kitchen is going to stink for a while, but it’s safe for the next time you need the oven.” She paused. “Sorry about that.”

  “I should have warned you.” Forcing her legs to step away from Nathaniel, Chloe moved toward the door. “Besides, dinner was delicious. And it looks as if you were right. We managed a slow dance with minimal style.”

  “Glad to hear it.” Neve stepped onto the sidewalk and covered a yawn. “I’m beat. I’ll catch you two later. Enjoy the rest of your night.”

  Alone with a wary Nathaniel, Chloe faked a yawn of her own. “All that wine made me sleepy. I think I’m ready to call it a night.”

  He closed the gap between them, cutting off all handy escape routes. “What you’re offering, it’s a gift.” He traced the neckline of her dress with his finger. “Are you sure you want to give it to me?”

  Her breasts tingled from his slight touch. “I… yes, I am.”

  He considered her for a long moment while heat tingled through her chest and the back of her neck. “I don’t think I should walk you up tonight.” His lips curved in a gentle smile. “Or I might take you up on your offer.”

  “That was the general idea.”

  “Think about it.” He pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead. “I don’t want you to regret me, Chloe.”

  “The only thing I would regret,” she said as she hooked a finger through his belt loop, “is not being with you when I had the chance.” Before he protested, she led him through the store and up the stairs into her apartment. When she turned, she smiled up at him. “I should have planned this better. Dimmed lights, poured more wine, done something to seduce you.”

  “Your every breath seduces me.” He cradled her face in his hands, leaned in close enough her tongue could have traced his lips. Near enough she smelled caramel on his breath and decided he had a thing for hard candy. “Forget your plans. I’ve forgotten mine.”

  His mouth covered hers and she had no trouble forgetting everything but his taste. His kiss migrated down her chin and throat as he sank to his knees. When his tongue dipped inside the neckline of her shirt, she jumped.

  He stared up at her from beneath dark lashes, his vibrant eyes amused. “You okay?”

  Chloe’s pulse jolted. “I wasn’t expecting your tongue there.”

  His dark chuckle made her nipples harden, ache for more of what she’d interrupted.

  Fascinated by the play of his large hands over her hips, she watched as he lowered the side zipper of her dress, then slid the delicate material down her arms. His fingers pressed into the skin of her back and her bra straps slipped from her shoulders. She caught the bra and cupped it to her breasts on reflex, but he plucked away her fingers one by one.

  The scrap of fabric fell to the floor, leaving her exposed. Her hands balled at her sides to keep from covering herself. He took her hands in his, linked their fingers, and lowered his head.

  His breath was hot, his mouth damp as he covered the tip of her breast. Her arms were chained at her sides. Her nails dug into his hands, unable to touch him otherwise. She urged him on with soft whimpers as pleasure glutted her senses.

  Her imagination hadn’t done the reality of Nathaniel justice. His every touch aroused. Each dark look enticed. His delicious intent made her weak with desire for more.

  When his teeth closed lightly over her pearled nipple, she swayed on her feet, forcing him to release her hands and hold her upright. The spike of heat subsided, but his lips were on the move, trailing openmouthed kisses across her ribs down to her navel.

  He hooked his thumbs through the sides of her panties, lips following their downward progress, teeth nipping at her bare hip, and her throat tightened. As he nuzzled his way across her stomach, he held her steady with his hands on her hips. Her eager body wavered on the edge of orgasm as she imagined where his hands and…she swallowed… mouth were headed.

  She had brought them here, ready or not. “What if you do all this… and I can’t… What if I can’t return the favor?”

  “Sex is about reciprocation.” His breath came out in a rush of warm air below her navel. “This is not sex.” His lips whispered over her skin. “This is me, making love to you.”

  “Oh.” Such similar acts, but her heart registered the difference just fine.

  His laughter vibrated through her hip bone. “Or I could be.”

  “Sorry.” She tried not to fidget. “I’m nervous.” When his ey
es filled with a question, she covered his mouth and he held perfectly still. “I’m nervous, not afraid.” She dropped her hand. “I want you, and you’re not going to talk me out of it.”

  “I told you, meira, I gave up my plans.” His smile was bittersweet. “There’s nothing I want more than you and no price I’m unwilling to pay to have you.”

  His palm curved her spine until she had to brace on his shoulders or topple over. Her bare sex met his lips and her hands fisted in his shirt. She gasped again, definitely not expecting his tongue there, either.

  She shivered as he parted her folds, pressed kisses over her sensitized skin. His mouth closed over her clit while his tongue flicked at her with lazy movements. He was the perfect Southern gentleman with nothing but time on his hands and pleasure on his mind.

  Pressure built low, tingled in her stomach. Breathing heavy, she dug her nails into his shoulders as the rush of sensation made her dizzy. Desperate for release, she moaned when he caressed her achingly empty flesh and then slipped a thick finger inside.

  Her eyes closed and muscles clenched around him while the sharp ache of penetration made her whimper. He massaged the delicate tissue, stretched it gently as he pressed foreign words, beautiful words against her breast.

  Coaxed by his gentle ministrations, she accepted more of him in slow increments as arousal loosened her muscles, lessened the pain. His thumb found her clit with sure strokes while his pointer curled deep inside her. The delicious pressure from earlier resurged, redoubled, and rocked her up on her tiptoes from the force of her orgasm.

  Her world became soft edged with blind contentment as fading tremors rippled through her tender flesh. Boneless and sated, it took a full minute to pinpoint the sound of a zipper’s rasp and realize what it was.