Page 17 of A Family Affair: The Cabin
“Stop talking.” She reached for the top button of his shirt, rested a small hand on his belt buckle.
“I can’t make promises.”
“No promises.” And then she smiled. “This is all pretend, right? We can do whatever we want and it’s just the two of us.”
But that wasn’t quite true. He knew it as he eased the shirt over her head, unfastened her bra. Knew it when he cupped her breast, brought his lips to a nipple and sucked the sweetest, most tender flesh he’d ever tasted. And when they were both naked and their gazes locked seconds before he entered her in the purest free-fall of ecstasy he’d ever felt, the truth burned between them.
This was about so much more than sex.
This was real.
* * *
Elissa and Petehad spent the last twelve nights together, making love until they fell into an exhausted sleep, bodies tangled up in one another, breathing soft and even. Content. But the lovemaking wasn’t confined to the bed or evenings. The need to be together in a physical way burned deep and bright between them. They’d made love after breakfast, against the kitchen counter, on a dining room chair, in the old tub. Outside, against the worn cabin siding. Goodness, they’d even made love in his truck after a return trip to town! She wanted him, all of him, and it seemed he felt the same way.
It hadneverbeen like this with Zachary or any other man.Nobody was like Pete. Nobody could make her tingle and burn or lose her inhibitions the way he did. And that scared her as much as it excited her.
She’d told him she knew they weren’t long-term, that she understood he was no good at relationships and didn’t expect one from him. When she’d said the words, she’d meant them, but that was before he touched her, before he filled her with want and need, before he showed her how good it could be between them. Not just the sex, but all of it. They’d worked side by side these past several days, fixing up the cabin, turning it into someone’s home.
What would it be like if she and Pete lived here?
“Hey, sleepyhead. Plan to sleep all day?”
Pete stood in the doorway, long and lean, dressed in flannel and jeans. His gaze darted from the dip in the sheet that exposed a good portion of flesh, moved to her face. “You should have called me.” She eased out of bed, stretched, enjoying the way his eyes followed her as she slipped into her panties and bra, pulled on a T-shirt. Elissa had never quite understood the sexual control some women exercised over men, maybe because she didn’t think she was capable of it. She’d never felt overly sexual with Zachary, but with Pete, the push-pull of her sexuality wasn’t intentional or contrived. It justwas.
“Come here,” he said, his voice rough, his expression unreadable. She moved toward him, placed her hands on his hips. He framed her face with his large hands, studied her. “The work’s done here. We’ll finish up today.”
“I know.”
“We can stay a while, or not, but whatever we decide to do, I need to be honest with you.”
“Yes?”Here it comes. He’s going to tell me he’s moving on…
He cleared his voice twice. “I don’t know about you, but for me, this pretending doesn’t feel like pretending anymore.”
Pete wasn’t pretending; he cared about her, and he was going to admit it. Oh, but she wanted to hug him so tight and cry, but she didn’t. Instead, she managed a serious “I know.”
He pulled her to him, buried his lips in her hair. “I think we’re going to have to talk about it.”
“Uh-huh.” Elissa closed her eyes, breathed in his scent, as the truth slipped out. She was falling in love with him. Could he find it in his heart to return that love?
The “talking” started later that afternoon, when Pete told her about Magdalena and the couples he’d observed. Of course, he didn’t know she knew about Magdalena, and he certainly didn’t know her connection to the heartache that almost happened there. How was she ever going to tell him about that? Or that she’d mailed the letter to Nate Desantro the day they drove into town? She’d have to tell him, but not yet.
“I’ve seen a lot of couples since I’ve been back in Magdalena. They’re not crazy rich, not by most people’s standards, at least not the ones I knew. But they’re happy and they seem content. Some of them have been together for decades, others just a few years.” They sat next to each other on the couch, his shoulder slung over hers, thighs touching, her head resting on his chest. “The ones our age are having kids, and they don’t seem put out by the extra mouths to feed or annoyed they’re giving up free time. Hell, they seem to enjoy it.” He planted a kiss on the top of her head, murmured, “Maybe that’s what real wealth is. You just have to find the right person to help you see that, and share it.”
Elissa tightened her hold around his waist, whispered, “I think you’re right.”
“I’d like to have more money, but I’d rather have the right person beside me, step by step, through good times and not so good ones. My mother told me Nate Desantro had a rough road with his mother-in-law. The damn lady tried to break up his marriage with some fake seduction thing. Can you imagine that? What kind of parent does that to her own daughter?”
That’s not what Mrs. Blacksworth had told her. She’d sworn Nate had been involved and he was the one to turn her daughter against her. “I’m sure there’s more to the story.”
“More? I doubt it unless you want to add psycho and witch to the mother-in-law’s name.”
Why would Mrs. Blacksworth lie to her? What was the point? Elissa wasn’t a relative; she would not have judged. “I’m sorry,” was all she could manage. She would have to tell Pete the truth, but not tonight. She’d tell him in the morning. And then she’d destroy the notebook.
“Look, I don’t want to talk about her or whatever lies she told. All I know is my mother said she tried to ruin good people, and my mother’s usually in the know about this stuff.” He laughed, sifted a hand through her hair. “She’s a little bit of a gossip. Drives my father crazy.”
“I’ll bet.” When Pete heard her story, he’d understand, wouldn’t he? He’d see that she’d believed a dying woman because she hadn’t thought such a person capable of causing harm on her deathbed.
