The Sweetheart Secret Page 24

  He shook his head, but a smile had curved up his face. “You have an argument for everything, don’t you?”

  “You know it.” She ducked back inside the house, grabbed the dog’s leash and two jackets from the hook by the door, then returned to Colt’s side. “Come on. It’ll be fun.”

  He leaned down close to her, his breath warm against her neck. “The last time you said that we ended up married.”

  Damn. How could he light that fire in her belly with just a few words? She let out a shaky laugh to cover for the desire he’d awakened. “Well that won’t happen today. I guarantee it.”

  “Of course it won’t. Because we’re still married.”

  “So there’s no danger of you falling in love with me and running off into the sunset.”

  “Not a chance.”

  She laughed, but the words still sent a ribbon of disappointment through her. What was wrong with her? She was signing the divorce papers soon. Ending this whole pseudo-relationship.

  If that was so, then why was she delaying? Why hadn’t she just up and signed them already? Every time she saw the envelope on top of her dresser, she told herself it was because she wanted to make sure the loan was secure. That the bank wouldn’t have some last-minute second thoughts and yank the financing. Except the loan papers had long ago been approved, signed, sealed, delivered.

  Done.

  There was no reason to stay married to Colt Harper any longer. No reason—except she didn’t want to let him go. Not yet. Not tonight.

  “Watch your step,” Colt said, reaching out a hand to steady her on the rickety wooden steps leading down to the beach. A strong breeze rippled down the beach, bending the sea grass to its will, making the bell on the end of the dock sing its deep clanging song.

  “Thank you.” She took his hand, and didn’t let go, even after their feet met the sand and she kicked off her sandals. They walked barefoot on the cold beach, while the surf crashed against the beach and the wind swirled along the coast. It was a wild night, edged with danger and suspense, as if anything could happen. She took off Major’s leash, and the dog ran up ahead, darting in and out of the water, barking at the waves, the wind.

  “Careful, there’s a dip there.” Colt tugged on her hand, and she tumbled into his arms, her bare feet sliding on the silky sand.

  She tipped her chin to look at him, trying not to think how good it felt to press her hand to his chest, to feel the strength and solidness of Colt beneath her palm. He’d always been like that, the one that she could depend on, to be calm and rational and strong when things got crazy.

  She should have been that for him, years ago. Maybe then they wouldn’t have lost each other for fourteen years, lost that magic they’d had. Seeing him today, hurt and vulnerable, had added another dimension to Colt. She’d always thought he was a rock, but now she saw he was more like a willow tree, stronger than anyone knew, yet also human enough to bend when the pressure got too much. The kind of man a woman like her could fall in love with, if she wasn’t careful.

  “Thank you again,” she said.

  “You have to be careful,” he said, his eyes deep and dark in the moonlight. “There’s a storm coming in.”

  “I know.” There was a storm inside her, one that had been gaining steam ever since she’d rushed into his office. Heck, that storm had been building since the day he’d sat down and shared her Oreos with her. It wrapped her in a whirlwind, displacing her thoughts, her plans, her intentions.

  He lowered his hands to her waist, his mouth to hers. A fraction of an inch separated her from him, a fraction too far, too much. She could feel the warmth of his breath, whispering across her skin. “We really should stop before we get caught in the worst of it.”

  “That would be the wisest course to take.”

  His blue eyes were as dark and deep as the roiling waters beside them. “We’ve never taken the wisest course, have we?”

  She shook her head. Slow. She wished she could stand here forever, with him looking at her with heat and intention, with that delicious anticipation of something more delicious and wonderful to come, if only she let it happen. “Never. Why start now?”

  “Because someone could get hurt.”

  “Oh, Colt, hasn’t anyone ever told you that dancing in the rain is so much more fun than watching the rain?” She tangled her hands in his hair, drawing him closer, until her breath mingled with his. She wanted him—hell, she’d always wanted him—and didn’t want to go on pretending. She wanted the heat and magic, the fire and rush, that came with everything she did with Colt. She wanted to lose herself in him, today, tomorrow . . . forever.

  “What if we get struck by lightning?”

  Her heart hammered in her chest. “That’s a chance we’ll have to take.”

  “I’m not a risk taker, Daisy, not anymore.”

  “You’re here with me,” she said, her voice dark and husky. “That’s a risk already.”

  A smile curved across his face. His lips brushed against hers as he spoke, so intoxicating, so sexy, she wanted to melt into him. “Are you saying you’re dangerous?”

  “I’m saying that you and me”—she took a breath, let her mouth dance across his—“is dangerous.”

  His eyes caught hers, held. A heartbeat passed. Then he pulled her closer, bringing her body against his so tight and so hard, not a whisper of wind could slide between them. “I don’t care,” he said, the words a growl.

  Then he cupped her head and kissed her. Hard, fast, deep, the way she loved to be kissed by him, as if he was consuming her, drowning her soul with his. There was no gentle in this kiss, just a fire to have each other as fast and furious as the approaching storm.

  “Daisy, I want you,” he groaned. “Now.”

  Hot agony brewed inside her, a fire torched by the need in his voice. “Then take me, Colt.”

  They tumbled to the sand in a frenzied rush to jerk off jackets, spread them across the beach, then reach for fasteners and buttons. She grabbed at his shirt, tugging the fabric up, over his shoulders, his head, then she attacked his shorts, yanking them down, off and away. Boxers followed, and she paused only long enough to curl her hand around his length and hear him moan against her cheek. Then it was her turn to lean back, let him fumble with the buttons on her shirt. Frustration, cursing, when the tiny buttons snagged. She put her hands over his, and whispered, “Just tear it off.”

  He rent the shirt in two, and the fire inside Daisy reached a fever pitch. Before she could think, could take a breath, he had shoved aside her panties and plunged inside her. He reached between them, pushing her bra up and over her breasts, then lowered his mouth to suck one of her nipples. She groaned and arched, clawing at his back with one hand, trying to unfasten the damned bra with the other. The clasp sprang free, and she tossed the scrap of fabric to the side.

  Above them, thunder rumbled and lightning crashed over the ocean. The rain began to fall, pelting them with warm, slick water. Daisy didn’t care. She curved beneath Colt, fingers digging into his back, his buttocks, while he plunged into her again and again, harder, faster. He was hot, he was hard, and he was so damned good, she wondered why she had ever let him out of her bed.

  Colt’s flexed arms braced them on either side, but his mouth, oh holy hell, his mouth, was back on her breast, and she thought she was going to die or self-detonate as the orgasm hit her like a tsunami, spiraling her up, up, up, sending lights behind her eyes.

  She rolled him to his back and climbed on top of him, feeling wanton and sexy as the storm began to whirl, and she rode Colt. His hands cupped her breasts, thumbs sliding across her nipples, then he flexed beneath her, driving him deeper. She arched backward, riding the wave as the next orgasm took control and she jackhammered her body against his. A moment later, he cried out her name, and stiffened, and she rode with him, shifting her hips to catch him as he came.

>   When they were done, she rolled to the side, and curved into Colt’s arm, laying her head on his chest, listening to the still frantic beat of his heart. “I don’t think we’ve ever made love slow and easy,” he said.

  She laughed. “That’s for the movies.”

  “None of that fluffy romantic stuff for you, huh?”

  “Not on your life.” She said it as a joke, instead of admitting the truth, that the kind of slow, easy, romantic love others had was the very kind that scared her to death. Slow and easy meant exposing her soul, opening her heart, letting Colt get close to her for more than a few minutes. She wanted hard, fast, in, out, and over before she risked something foolish—

  Like falling in love with him. Again.

  Tears sprang to her eyes. Damnable, vulnerable, weak tears, and she tried to will them away, but they brimmed in her eyes. Then the rain began to fall and mingle with her tears until she couldn’t tell which was Mother Nature and which was her.

  The rain started coming harder then, pelting the sand and their bare skin. Major dashed up, barking before doing a fast shake that sprayed them all with a new storm. “Let’s get out of here,” Colt shouted above the growing volume of an angry wind.

  Daisy slid on her jacket, while Colt tugged on his pants and gathered up the rest of their clothes. They dashed along the beach, laughing, stumbling, catching each other, until they were back on the safety of his porch. They stood under the roof and shook off the worst of the water. Major paused on the top step, and before Daisy could stop him, the dog gave another vigorous body shake.

  “Major, no!”

  Colt grimaced and swiped the water off his legs. “Major Pain fits him.”

  She laughed, then grabbed Colt’s hand. “Come on, let’s get inside and make something warm to eat.”

  “Or . . .” He held her gaze, and a smile curved across his face again. “We could take a nice long, hot shower together. And find other ways to warm up.”

  She wanted that, oh, how she wanted that. But something had shifted inside her tonight on the beach, something that told Daisy she wasn’t as in control of her emotions as she thought. Nor was she as over him as she had thought. Maybe she never had been over Colt. There was a new softening in her heart for Colt, and that—

  That was the true danger. The one she had done her level best to avoid all these years. There was something in the way he worried about his grandfather, the way he took such heavy responsibility and wore it like it was nothing more than a cotton shirt, that touched her.

  And made her want to stay. To try again. To be his wife again, in every sense of the word.

  “Rain check?” she said, then laughed at the pun. “I, uh, have to be up early to meet with Mike’s construction crew.”

  “I’m glad the loan worked out,” he said. “I think you’re going to do a fabulous job with the inn.”

  A flicker of doubt filled Daisy. Such a huge responsibility, resurrecting a business. “I’m going to do my best. Either way, I’ll make sure I repay the loan so you don’t end up on the hook for it.”

  He waved that off. “I trust you, Daisy.”

  I trust you. The words held such weight. She thought about how far they had come since that day at his office a few weeks ago.

  Okay, maybe they’d come a long way in terms of financial agreements, but as for a relationship . . . No promises had been made, and there was no more of a tether binding them to this sham of a marriage than there had been before.

  “I guess this means we don’t need to stay married anymore.” She turned and grabbed the door handle before any of the emotions fluttering in her chest belied her light words. “You’ll finally be free of me.”

  His face clouded. “Then what was that back on the beach?”

  “That was”—she pulled open the door and forced a smile to her face—“a storm that hit us before we could run.”

  Twenty-four

  Grandpa Earl was his usual sunshine and rainbows self the next morning when Colt arrived at the hospital to take him home. “Where do they find the idiots who run this place?” Grandpa said, glaring at the orderly who helped him into a wheelchair and plopped the bag of Grandpa’s belongings on his lap. “They’re making me use this damned thing, like I’m some kind of an invalid. I can walk my own damned self out of here.”

  “Think of it as red carpet service,” Colt said, waving off the orderly so he could slip in behind Grandpa’s chair. Grandpa had good color, his blood pressure was down, and he should be fine as long as he did what Colt had been harping on for months—ate right, exercised regularly, and took his medications. They wheeled down the hall, and around the corner toward the patient pick-up area.

  “Red carpet service, huh?” Grandpa said. “If that’s the case, there should be dancing girls and champagne at the end.”

  Colt chuckled. “I can wrangle some ginger ale, and maybe a cute candy striper.”

  Grandpa considered that for a second, rubbing at the stubble on his chin. “I’ll take it.”

  The electric doors opened, letting in a nice warm burst of Florida air. Colt pushed the chair outside and over to his car, parked against the curb. He helped Grandpa into the passenger’s seat, then backed away, rather than caving to his instinct of hovering to make sure Grandpa buckled his seat belt. Baby steps.

  After Colt returned the chair to the lobby, he slid into the driver’s seat. “Did they treat you okay in there?” he asked Grandpa.

  “Treated me like the damned King of Sheba. Do you know every single person who works at that hospital?”

  “Not everyone. But a lot of folks.”

  Grandpa harrumphed. “Well, you must be doing a good job because all they did was talk about you.”

  Colt chuckled. “If that’s a compliment, I’ll take it.”

  They rode for a while, not saying anything. The air conditioner pumped cool air into the car. Palm trees slivered shade through the windows. “You know, I’ve been thinking,” Grandpa said. “I don’t want you to get all worked up or anything, but maybe I can try one of those veggie meals you were talking about. Daisy says some of it’s so good, you can’t tell the difference. Like the yogurt she told me was ice cream, and that fake beer you gave me. Tasted the same, more or less.”

  Colt kept his face calm, impassive, trying not to show his surprise. “Sure. We can do that. How about we compromise, and start with a veggie pizza?”

  “They make those? Well, I’ll be.” Grandpa took a moment to think about it, then nodded. “Veggie pizza sounds like a damned good idea. Especially after eating the crap the hospital serves. A man could die eating that stuff.”

  Colt arched a brow and flicked a glance at Grandpa’s belly. “Doesn’t look like you suffered too much.”

  “I did, too. I was forced to live on pudding and applesauce.”

  “Oh, the inhumanity. Just pudding and applesauce?” Colt grinned. “I’ll be sure to file a formal complaint for you with the board.”

  Grandpa Earl chuckled and Colt joined in. It was the first real laugh the two of them had shared in months, maybe even years. And it was good. Really good.

  A little while later, Grandpa Earl was settled in the battered La-Z-Boy with a thin crust veggie pizza—and not complaining about the taste of the broccoli florets. Colt wondered if the hospital had given Grandpa a whole lot of Prozac, or if the tide was really changing in their relationship.

  Daisy hadn’t returned from her meeting with the construction crew at the inn, so Colt grabbed a slice of pizza and changed into his running clothes. When Colt came back into the kitchen, the dog tagged along. Colt reached for the door handle, and the dog barked.

  “Seems he wants to go with you,” Grandpa said.

  “Hey, he’s your dog.”

  “And I just got out of the hospital.” Grandpa flipped out the footrest and sat back in his chair. “I’m sup
posed to take it easy for at least ten minutes.”

  “All right, all right.” Colt retrieved the leash from the hook by the door and snapped it on the dog’s collar. “Okay, you can come, but keep your opinions to yourself.”

  Major Pain barked, and wagged his tail some more as they headed out the door. Outside, the storm from the night before had disappeared, leaving in its place a bright, warm, sunny day. Broken palm fronds and chunks of tree bark littered the beach, but otherwise, everything was quiet and still. Waves sung a gentle shush-shush song, reaching into the shore and back again.

  Colt wondered if there was still an imprint in the sand from Daisy’s glorious body last night. That had been an amazing night, one he knew he’d never forget. Hot, sexy, edged with danger—pretty much all words that encapsulated Daisy Barton. Maybe tonight the two of them could take another walk—or he could take her up on that rain check for a long, hot shower, followed by a long, hot night in his bed.

  “Nice day,” he said to the dog, because if Colt didn’t start thinking about something else, he wasn’t going to be able to walk straight.

  The dog didn’t answer. Just kept on walking, his tail beating a happy, frantic beat against the air. The dog was amiable and easy, walking on the leash without pulling or detouring. He seemed genuinely happy just to be outside with Colt.

  “You know I didn’t want you,” Colt said to the dog. “But you’re kinda growing on me. Don’t tell my grandfather.”

  Major Pain looked up at him and wagged his tail. With the way his ears perked and his tongue lolled, one might even say he was smiling. Or saying I told you so.

  “Maybe you’d even make a good running buddy. What do you think? Would you like to run?”

  Major Pain let out a little bark and wagged his tail some more. Colt took that as a yes, so he broke into a slow jog. The dog kept pace easily, and the two of them ran a mile down the beach, then another, then a third. The dog trotted along beside him, as if he’d done this a thousand times before.

  Colt rounded the corner to the Hideaway Inn, and caught sight of Nick, working on some gutters on the backside of the building. Colt slowed his pace, and turned to the dog. “Probably not a coincidence I ended up here, is it?”