Page 40 of Come to Me

“Maybe we should be sure.”

“Do you have another condom?”

His amused expression fell. “Damn.”

“No worries. I’ve got this.” She pushed him back again, removing the condom, tying it off and disposing of it. “Now. Let’s see about helping you relax.” Her kisses drifted over his chest, down his abdomen and lower…lower until she proved her point.

CHAPTER 12

Sleeping with his host yesterday may not be the best idea, but Patrick couldn’t talk himself into thinking it was a bad one either. Michaela had been right; the release was cathartic. It hadn’t solved all his problems. His sister was still in prison. His parents were still cool and aloof yet pressuring him to take his place in the company out of duty. But with Michaela, all that went away.

The problem was, he couldn’t spend all his time at Kincaid Lake with her. The resort was her job and her family needed her. That meant he needed to find a way to entertain himself. Having no clue what to do, he decided he’d see if Tate was around. Perhaps the boy would teach him to skip stones or fish again. It felt a little pathetic that Patrick needed the guidance of a seven-year-old boy to relax at a lake, but it was what it was.

He headed up the path toward the lodge, glancing around the lake looking for the boy. The area was quiet. Even the honeymoon cabin.

He took the stairs up to the back deck and entered through the sliding door.

“Joining us for breakfast for once?” Mrs. Kincaid said.

“I ah…” Patrick avoided the complimentary breakfast since the first morning when he’d offended his hosts. Now he worried he’d offended them by skipping breakfast. Or worse, maybe she knew what he’d done to Michaela. “Yes. That would be lovely.”

Mrs. Kincaid disappeared into the kitchen leaving Patrick to stand in the middle of the great room alone. Where was Michaela? Tate? Even Mr. Kincaid would be a welcome sight.

“I hope you like biscuits and sausage gravy.”

Patrick turned to Mrs. Kincaid, reentering the area with a plate she set on the dining table. “Sounds delicious.”

“There’s fried apples and eggs as well. I’ll be back with coffee. Do you want orange juice?”

“Thank you.”

She disappeared again. Patrick felt like an idiot as he sat at the table by himself.

Mrs. Kincaid brought coffee and orange juice. “Do you want cream or sugar?”

“No. Thank you. Ah…no one else is eating?”

“Well, we ate earlier, and the other guests left last night.”

“I see. Well, thank you.”

“I’ll be in the kitchen if you need anything.”

The food was delicious although eating it alone took the joy away from it. Patrick had eaten alone many times in his life, but he hadn’t remembered feeling lonely. Was it because New York restaurants were crowded? Or was it that he wasn’t truly a part of this place?

The scent of wild flowers hit him, making him smile.

“Don’t eat too much of that. It will clog your arteries.” Michaela sat at the table with him.

“It will be hard not to eat it all. It’s very good. Perhaps your mom should open a restaurant.”

Michaela laughed. “We can’t hardly handle what we’ve got.” She waggled her brows. “How’d you sleep?”

“Like a baby…but with dirty dreams.” Did he just admit that? He felt his cheeks flush at the suggestive comment.

She snorted and found himself taken in by it. Michaela was like the great outdoors. Pure. Real. Raw.

“How about you?” he asked.

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