A Soldier's Secret Page 17

“From being around you. Something I noticed before, but now I see it even more. It’s really hard for you to accept any praise.”

  She glanced away, her nerves itchy under her skin. “That’s…not true.”

  “Yes, it is. Whenever I tell you something nice you ignore it or pull away.”

  She scoffed. “If you mean I don’t fall over, being grateful, when someone says something nice, you’re probably right. But most people I know don’t do that, either, when receiving a compliment.” She turned to him. “You don’t.”

  Reaching over, his eyes never leaving hers, he touched her hair, gently pushed it back from her face—and that smallest of movements sent a charge of desire through her.

  “I wasn’t talking about me. And that’s another classic example of what you do. Whenever someone says something nice, you shrug it off or reroute the conversation so the focus isn’t on you.”

  She drank some milk, then laughed. “If I do that, it’s probably because someone else deserves the compliment and not me. When we do a rescue, I’m not the only person there. It’s a joint effort.”

  “I wasn’t talking about work. I was talking about you on a personal level. I tell you that you look stunning and you brush it off, telling me how wonderful my mother looks. I say I think you’re amazing, and you change the subject.”

  She looked at her empty glass, then started to stand up, but he caught her arm and held her down. “What?” she said. “I was just going to put the glass away.”

  “That’s another one of your tactics. You walk away, pretending to be interested in something else.”

  “Mac,” she said with a sigh, then flopped back against the cushions and closed her eyes for a moment. Opening them again, she said, “Maybe I am uncomfortable with compliments, but that’s just me. What difference does it make?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know that it makes any difference. But I just feel I know you so well, yet I really don’t, and…” His brow furrowed. He glanced around, moistening his lips, as if searching for the right words. “And I want to. You’re my best friend and I want to know why you don’t think you deserve to be praised.”

  Her stomach dipped. She tore her gaze away. Tears, stupid, idiotic tears, began to form behind her eyes. She cleared her throat, but it clogged even more. “Maybe I don’t,” she said, her voice sounding hoarse and not her own. “And maybe that’s the way I was raised. You don’t get compliments for just anything. It has to be really special. You have to be really deserving.” She gritted her teeth. “And I’m not.”

  Looking at her, his expression incredulous, Mac shook his head. “Well, you’re wrong.” He reached out, pulled her close, his arms encircling her, and his gentle, caring touch unleashed a desperate need inside her. She wanted to melt into the comfort of his strong arms. She wanted to let him hold her, soothe her, tell her things she’d longed to hear.

  Despite knowing it was wrong, knowing she might feel like a fool and regret it later, she leaned against him, relaxing little by little against his warm, strong body.

  His breathing deepened, and with his mouth close to her ear, he said softly, “Just you being you is incredibly special.” He turned her face to his and looking deep into her eyes, touched his mouth to hers. Soft, and oh, so delicious… She kissed him back, their mouths blending in a quiet passion that made her blood rush.

  Wrong. This was so wrong…and yet it felt so right.

  As their kisses deepened, she was helpless against the emotions crashing through her, and molded her body to his, felt his passion hard against her. His hands were hot on her back and even hotter as he explored downward, touching and caressing. He trailed kisses along her neck and she tipped her head back, exulting in the pure pleasure of his mouth against her skin.

  He thought she was incredible and that made her feel incredible. Made her feel loved. There was nothing more beautiful than the touch of another human being who cared about you. Wanted you. Mac wanted her, and she wanted him. What was wrong with that?

  MAC LEANED BACK, SHIFTING to feel her body fully against his. The thinking part of his brain had apparently died on him a couple hours ago. This wasn’t supposed to happen. He was supposed to be thanking her, telling her how much he appreciated all she was doing for him…for his son.

  But Natalia was soft and vulnerable, and he wanted to help her, protect her. Wanted to tear down the wall she had no idea she’d erected. Instead, she’d reached the one small place in the deepest recess of his heart where he was vulnerable.

  Her eager touch, her warm, willing kisses, the natural scent of her body so inflamed his senses that he couldn’t stop if he wanted to. He had a need and so did she. He wanted her. He wanted to make love to her…all night long.

  He wrapped her tight and safe in his arms, tasted her urgent lips again and again, and when she pulled back and looked him in the eye, he was completely under her spell.

  “I want you to make love to me, Mac.”

  Oh, man. His heart raced, his mind spun. “Let’s go upstairs.”

  A few minutes later, in Mac’s room, they shed their clothes in a frenzy, leaving a trail from the door to his king-size bed, all the while kissing and touching and helping each other undress. As he laid her down on the cool sheets and stretched out beside her, he felt her tremble, felt her hands shake when she touched his cheek.

  He took her hand and kissed the palm. Moonlight shone through the clerestory windows, casting buttery moonglow on her hair, making her eyes dark and luminous in the shadows. “Are you okay with this?” he whispered.

  “I’ve never been more okay with it,” she whispered back.

  And with that, he forgot everything but the soft silkiness of her skin, the sweet taste of her lips, the subtle movements of her body under his that brought her closer and closer. The dance of love, instinctual and raw, unashamed and exquisite. His need growing, he swept impatient fingers over her perfectly sized breasts, down her narrow waist, touching ever so lightly when he dipped his hand between her legs.

  She moaned and pressed up against him, telling him her need was equal to his. He didn’t want it to end, but his insistent body said he wasn’t going to last too long. He kissed her again and again as her hands explored him without hesitation. He liked an aggressive woman, one who knew what she wanted and could let him know. He kissed her, caressed her, courted her body with every part of his, wanting to tell her how beautiful she was, but holding back because she might pull away.

  Every deep drawn breath seemed magnified, every featherlight touch felt explosive, every part of him was primed and ready, and if it got any more intense, he might blow apart.

  As if she knew, she wrapped an arm around his neck and pulled him close, whispered in his ear, her voice so soft he barely heard her. But even if he hadn’t, he knew what she’d said. “Now.”

  He pulled her underneath him, gently spread her legs with his, touched between her legs and found her wet and waiting. And when he slipped into her, he was lost to all but the moment.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  A MISTAKE. NATALIA KNEW IT the minute she awoke in bed with Mac. Last night she’d needed him, needed to be close to chase away her demons. It was wrong. She knew it, and he would, too.

  But for those few hours, it had been wonderful. He’d taken her out of herself, out of the mental quagmire that seemed to pull her into the past.

  Last night with Mac, she’d never been more in the moment. She felt as if she’d released the emotional chains that had been dragging her down, wiped the slate clean and started anew. It had been wonderful to feel so free. To feel so wanted.

  Her feelings for Mac, she realized, went far deeper than she’d been telling herself. Maybe she’d always been secretly in love with him? She wasn’t sure. The only thing she did know was that if she wasn’t already in love with him, she was well on the way.

  Mac, however, saw her as his best friend. He’d said so last night. Now they were friends with benefits.

  She felt a warm hand again
st her back. Fingers twirling her hair. “Beautiful,” he said.

  Turning and brushing back her hair, she said, “Beautiful, my ass. I’m a frizzy mess.”

  “I like it. It’s the messy just-made-love look.” He grinned, then waggled his eyebrows. “Very becoming.”

  She jabbed him in the ribs. “What time is it?”

  No sooner had she asked than the door creaked open. Joey peered into the room. Oh, my God. She quickly pulled the sheet up to her chin.

  “Hey, Joey. C’mon over here.” Mac waved to him.

  Good God, what was he doing? She had no idea how she was going to extricate herself, or how Mac was going to do the same.

  Joey wandered over, picking his way around the clothes they’d deposited on the floor in their haste.

  “Are you hungry?” Mac asked. “What do you usually like for breakfast?”

  “Froot Loops,” Joey stated, leaning against the bottom of the bed.

  Mac gave a nod of approval. “How about pancakes? Do you like pancakes?”

  The boy shrugged.

  “Have you ever had pancakes?” Natalia asked.

  “I don’t know,” he said. “I don’t remember.”

  He seemed reticent, not as comfortable as he’d been during the day yesterday. Maybe it was all just hitting him.

  “Well, I tell you what, Joey,” Mac said. “Why don’t you go and put some clothes on, and we’ll go downstairs and make some pancakes. I guarantee you’re going to like them.”

  The boy padded from the room, and Natalia jumped out of bed, yanking the sheet along with her. Mac lay there naked, his body tanned and beautiful.

  “Sorry,” she said. “Only one sheet.”

  “There’s a robe or two in the closet. Why don’t you grab one for me, too.”

  She hustled to the closet, got out the robes, one a white terry cloth and the other a burgundy flannel, which she tossed across the bed to Mac, then went into the bathroom and slipped into the white one.

  “Looks like you’re going to have to sleep in here now,” Mac said, loudly enough for her to hear.

  Her heart stopped. She came back out, and saw that instead of the robe, he’d donned a pair of faded jeans. Her eyes drifted over his amazing physique, and she remembered how those muscles had felt under her fingertips last night, how her pulse had raced. Pure physical need. That’s all it was.

  “Mac…we need to talk.”

  His smile faded. “Just joking, Nats. Don’t go all serious on me now.”

  “I have to be. We need to talk about last night. I think we were both feeling a bit overwhelmed with all that’s been going on, and being together was…well, a release of all that emotion.”

  His mouth quirked. “Huh.” He scratched his head. “And here I was thinking it was damned good sex.”

  Her cheeks warmed. She walked to the door. “It was. But as nice as it was, last night was a one-time thing.”

  He looked at her, his expression unreadable.

  “We can’t be a friends-with-benefits.”

  “Did I suggest that?”

  She lifted her chin. He hadn’t. She’d assumed…and now felt like slithering under the door. “No. I…was just making sure we’re on the same page.”

  He crossed his arms and gave her that big white Matthew McConaughey smile. “Same book, same page.”

  For a moment she just stood there. The fact that he’d agreed so quickly smarted a little. What had she expected? Did she think their lovemaking was so spectacular that he’d suddenly want to have a relationship with her? He didn’t want that. She’d known so from the get-go. And more importantly, she didn’t want one with him, either. She’d been swept away by the moment. No big deal.

  She swallowed, her throat oddly dry. Yeah. No big deal.

  “All righty then…” She gathered her clothes from the floor, and on her way out announced matter-of-factly, “I’m going to shower and get dressed.”

  Joey was coming back in as she left. And how were they going to deal with that? Joey would think it strange if they slept in separate beds, wouldn’t he? She went into her room and grabbed her things to shower. Okay, easy solution. She’d be going to bed later than Joey, so he wouldn’t know if she wasn’t sleeping with Mac. And she’d just have to make a point of getting up earlier, too.

  Problem solved.

  “I DON’T SEE WHY YOU want to cancel the wedding plans,” Tori said to Serena. “You both still want to get married, don’t you?”

  She nodded, then walked over and turned the sign on the café door to Closed.

  “Of course we do.”

  It was nearly dinnertime, and Natalia had stopped by on her way home from work because Tori had called and said they needed to talk to Serena, to get her out of the slump she’d been in since the miscarriage the week before.

  “But it’s hard to think about celebrating anything right now.”

  “Your love for Cole. His love for you. None of that has changed, has it?” Tori said.

  Serena shook her head, slumping even more on the bar stool at the old-fashioned soda fountain. “No, of course not.”

  “It’s still two weeks away. You may feel differently by then,” Natalia added. “What does Cole think about it?”

  “He thinks we should get married and keep trying to have a baby.”

  Natalia heard the but in Serena’s voice and knew exactly what that was about. It was too soon to be thinking of getting pregnant again. Even though her friend had been only a few weeks along, she still needed time to grieve the loss. “He loves you, and I’m sure he’s thinking that’s what will make you happy.”

  “It will. Just not yet.” Serena crossed her arms on the counter and laid her head on top, as if too weary to hold it up any longer.

  Natalia walked over and sat next to her. She placed a palm on Serena’s arm. “We’ll do whatever you want us to do. Almost everything has been done, except for the last-minute stuff, so you could just wait and see how you feel closer to the date. It’s such a small wedding that canceling at the last minute wouldn’t be a problem.”

  Serena sat up and gave a big sigh. “It’s ironic, isn’t it?” she said, her voice tinged with bitterness. “You never wanted to be married or have children, and you have both.”

  The words stung. Only it was true. Natalia said softly, “Yes. But you and Cole have the strength of your love to carry you, and when you get married and have children, it will be because you love each other and want to bring a child born of that love into the world to nurture and care for. I don’t have any of that. And marriage without love isn’t a marriage.”

  She didn’t mention Joey. Joey was Mac’s son, not hers, and she wasn’t going to nurture and care for him.

  Serena turned to her, her eyes soft, apologetic. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.” She heaved another weary sigh. “I talked Cole into getting engaged because I wanted to have a child. He did, too, but I was more insistent, and we really hadn’t planned on getting married so soon. When I got pregnant, then it was like he had to say okay to all the rushed plans. That’s why I think we should cancel it. I don’t want him marrying me simply because he said he would.”

  “Serena!” Tori got up from her chair and stalked over to the counter. “Cole loves you more than life itself. Why do you think he came back to Spirit Creek?”

  “I know,” Serena said. “I know Cole loves me. That’s not the problem. The problem is that we wouldn’t be getting married right now if I hadn’t been pregnant. I don’t want him being chivalrous and going through with it because he said he would, only to regret it later.”

  “So, you wouldn’t get married if you hadn’t been pregnant?” Tori asked. “I thought that was the plan all along.”

  “It was. Just not this soon. Not like this.” She lowered her head again. “I don’t want to live the rest of my life wondering.”

  There wasn’t much Natalia could say to that. Serena wasn’t being rational. She believed what she was saying,
and if that were the case, Natalia wouldn’t want that marriage, either.

  “Okay. We’ll cancel everything.” She stood. “And now I have to get home for dinner.” To a home that wasn’t really hers, and to a sham marriage that held no love. To a little boy who warmed her heart, but would soon be out of it.

  Serena stood and reached out to hug her. “Maybe you’re right. Let’s wait a week and see.”

  “Great,” Natalia said, hugging her back.

  If only she could wait a week and see. But she couldn’t. PTSD would never go away. No matter what she felt about anyone, how much she loved anyone, that would never change.

  MAC PACED, CHECKED THE clock. They’d had one rescue and that was it, so he’d come home early, told Mrs. Anderson that she didn’t need to come over after school today.

  He’d wanted to spend some time with his son before making dinner, but Joey had come in after school armed with art he’d worked on in class, and after a brief conversation over milk and cookies, he’d gone to his room to play.

  Mac went to the stove and stirred the sauce he’d made for the pasta, then tasted the final product. Hot damn. His tastebuds practically danced…and he’d been practicing only a short time.

  But all the delicious food in the world wasn’t enough to make him forget that Joey had said he’d rather play in his room than spend time with him.

  It had been like that all week. Mac tried everything he could think of to get Joey to interact more with him, without much luck. The little boy seemed more responsive to Natalia, who wasn’t even there half the time.

  Ever since they’d made love, she’d made herself even more scarce. Mac’s rational mind knew that was a good thing, since she really didn’t have reason to stay anymore, except that he’d asked her to. Soon she’d be gone for good, and he didn’t want Joey to get too attached before then.

  But she had a way with the boy that he didn’t, and right now, he really needed to do something to get him to open up.

  He heard the garage door open, and then Natalia came into the kitchen.