A Man Not Her Own Page 14

  He sure as hell didn’t want to spook her. She was very responsive. Deliciously so.

  Sarah wiggled against him and his body reacted with alarming intensity. He thrust himself against her parted thighs, torturing himself with her heat.

  He rubbed his thumb on the underside of her breast, seeking, testing. Desperately wishing he didn’t have to worry about scaring her.

  Cool down, Defalco. You’re supposed to be helping Sarah. Not planning seduction.

  Sarah broke the kiss and looked at him with those big trusting eyes. She covered his hand beneath her breast and for a minute, Mitch thought she was going to shove it away. Then she smiled a sexy smile and urged him to touch her.

  He didn’t move his hand. “Are you sure you want this?”

  No hesitation, just a quick nod. “I’m sure,” she said, her voice husky.

  Mitch swallowed hard. “We can stop at any time. It’s up to you.”

  Sarah shook her head. “I don’t want to stop...yet.”

  Thank you, God. Mitch moved his hand higher and Sarah kept her hand over his as he kneaded the soft firm flesh. He wanted desperately to feel bare skin, but that would have to wait. Her nipple perked to attention against his palm and Sarah leaned into the caress, kissing him again with an ardor that left him breathless. Her heart beat double-time under his hand.

  As much as his body was throbbing and aching, Mitch knew he had to slow things down. Sure, Sarah had the power, but he seriously doubted she was thinking with her brain at the moment. Which was fine by him. They could continue for a little while longer. Then he positively, absolutely had to stop the lesson before it got out of control.

  “One more kiss, sweetheart,” he said against her parted lips, “then we need to get going.”

  “Yes,” she whispered, “one...more...kiss.”

  ****

  The ride back to town was way too short, in Sarah’s opinion. Sitting as close to Mitch as humanly possible, she wrapped her arms around his mid-section, loving the feel of his hot body. She wished she had enough nerve to pull his T-shirt out of his pants so she could touch his bare skin.

  Sarah had never experienced such powerful feelings. She’d never felt like this with Ryan. She’d felt love, but not passion. Best not think about her husband right now.

  Best to stay focused on Mitch.

  She laid her head against his broad back again, nestling closer, hugging tighter. He’d been right. This lesson had helped her become accustomed to his body. He felt so good, so right. She’d trusted him to help her, and he was doing a mighty fine job. Too good a job, in fact.

  Hadn’t he warned her he couldn’t give her more than physical passion? How naïve she’d been to believe that was all she’d ever want from him.

  Mitch turned into their neighborhood. The streets were quiet, the houses lit from within, people going about their evening routines. No one the wiser that Sarah Cooper had miscalculated about Mitch Defalco helping her out.

  He pulled into his driveway and killed the engine. “We’re home,” he said and held the bike while Sarah climbed off. She unfastened her helmet and handed it to him, not wanting to meet his gaze, afraid he’d sense her newfound knowledge.

  Mitch hung both helmets on the handlebars and turned toward her, put his finger under her chin forcing her to look at him. Concern etched the features of his rugged face. “You okay? I tried not to push too hard.”

  Sarah’s heart tripped a little, yet she managed to conjure up a smile. “I’m fine. Thanks for the lesson and the ride.”

  He was pulling her into his arms, when Josh burst out the door of Mitch’s house. “You’re home! You’re home! I was getting worried.” Josh threw his arms around Sarah and hugged her tight. He rested his chin on her stomach, his eyes bright and happy now. After losing his father, her son was sometimes a little possessive and protective. “I’m so glad you’re home.”

  “Me too, Josh.”

  Home is where the heart is, Sarah thought, as Josh tugged her toward their house. Over her shoulder, she looked back at Mitch. He winked, then turned and walked to his front porch. Yes, home was where the heart was, but Sarah was very much afraid that part of her heart was now living next door with Mitch Defalco.

  ****

  Lindsey sat on the floor of her bedroom, playing her new guitar. Trying to play, anyway. Her lessons with Thomas hadn’t progressed very far. Practicing had been impossible, since she hadn’t owned a guitar.

  But now she did. A beautiful guitar of her very own. Who would have thought Mitch would buy her a guitar after being such a jerk about her taking lessons in the first place?

  He’d done a complete turnaround about the whole thing. In fact, when she finally couldn’t stand it anymore and confessed about practicing with Thomas, he had only lectured her about honesty and warned her not to run off to California or Nashville to join a band, like her old man. Then he’d shared a little about his life.

  Mitch didn’t need to worry. She had no desire to run away. She would never live in California again. California held only bad memories. Memories she was trying hard to forget.

  Lindsey strummed a few chords. Playing the guitar was totally different from playing the French horn. She tried to make a minor chord and completely flubbed it up. Her fingers were getting sore, so she rested for a minute, staring at her purple toenails.

  Sometimes, she was terrified that Mitch was going to get tired of her and give her back. Back to who, she didn’t know. Except he wouldn’t have given her the guitar, or signed her up for driver’s ed if he was planning on getting rid of her, would he? And he said they’d go buy a car this weekend. He must be planning on her staying around.

  Maybe Thomas was right and she should cut Mitch some slack. After all, he did buy her this great guitar—

  “Hey, kiddo.”

  Her hands jerked, and she nearly dropped the guitar. Thank goodness, she was sitting on the floor. “Hey, Mitch.”

  He walked into her room and looked around. What was he doing? He never came in here. He squatted on his haunches in front of her. “How’s it going? You doing okay?”

  “Yeah, sure.” Lindsey eyed him warily, then shrugged. “Everything’s great.” Not knowing what else to say, she tried to make the minor chord again. When she strummed across the strings, it sounded worse than before. “Damn, I’ll never get it right.”

  Mitch folded his legs and sank down beside her. “Here, let me show you.”

  Lindsey stared at him. “I thought you didn’t play anymore.”

  “I don’t, but after hearing you strangle that chord, let’s just say I’m doing it in self-defense.”

  He smiled and her heart opened up a little. Even though Mitch might not be the ideal father of her childhood dreams, at least he was trying. She heard Thomas’ voice whisper in her head: Help him out, Lindsey.

  Taking a deep breath, she handed Mitch the guitar. “Here, see if you can do any better, then.”

  Mitch reached for the guitar and positioned it on his lap. His mother had given him a new perspective about his music. And if Lindsey wanted to play, if her music was anywhere near as important to her as it had been to him, then maybe he was meant to play again—to help him get to know his daughter—to help him get to know himself again.

  He strummed the guitar, then played a string of chords, feeling his way to the music again. The guitar felt good in his hands and he started playing an old Johnny Cash tune, picking the melody, finding the rhythm, humming along.

  When he played the final chord of the song, he looked at Lindsey. She sat across from him, supporting her elbow on her knee and cupping her chin in her hand. Her brown Defalco eyes glittered darkly. Oh hell, he hoped she wasn’t going to cry.

  “That was beautiful, Mitch. Play me another one. Please?”

  Mitch was surprised at the warmth spreading in his chest at Lindsey’s praise. Were they finally finding a common ground? He fingered a couple of chords, trying to think of something to play for his little girl. O
nly she wasn’t little—she was already growing into a young woman. He’d missed all the years when she’d been a baby, a toddler taking her first steps, a little kid—all those years, gone. Rough years for her. Years she probably wanted to forget.

  Years they’d never recapture.

  “Here’s a song I wrote a long time ago.” Mitch played an intro, searching his memory for the correct chord sequence. He hummed the tune at first, not trusting his voice because it had been years since he’d sung. Finally, he began singing to his own accompaniment. His voice was a little rusty, but then he found his groove and sang about lost dreams and new love. A song he’d written about a long-forgotten woman in his life. Now he sang to his daughter, and the words took on a whole new meaning.

  Playing the last refrain again, Lindsey joined Mitch and together they sang. When the chords died down, Mitch handed the guitar back and chucked her under the chin. “You have a beautiful voice, kiddo. Now, let me show you how to make that chord you were strangling when I came in.”

  Lindsey smiled. “It sounded awful.”

  “Yeah, well.” Mitch positioned her fingers on the fret and told her to press down hard. Lindsey strummed at the strings—they still sounded raspy.

  “I’ll never get it,” she groaned. “And there’s no way I’ll ever play as good as you. You shouldn’t have quit playing, Mitch. You’re good. I can’t believe you gave it up.”

  “I had my reasons, but maybe I’ll start playing again, for my own personal pleasure.”

  “And for me, too?” she asked softly.

  Mitch smiled and flicked her nose. “For you, too, kiddo.”

  ****

  “Have you ever owned a car, Mitch?” Lindsey asked from the backseat of Sarah’s white Civic.

  “I had one in high school,” he said. “You remember, Sarah?”

  She nodded. Oh yes, she remembered. That sleek sports car was the main reason her sister had gone out with Mitch in the first place. How like Jeanie to date a guy for what he had and not for who he was.

  Lindsey had invited Sarah and Josh to come along with them to help pick out the new car. So Sarah had left Thomas in charge of The Music Shoppe on this lovely Saturday afternoon.

  “What kind of car did you have, Mitch?” Lindsey asked.

  “A black Camaro. Looked sharp and rode fast.” Mitch frowned at his slip of the tongue. “Not that you will be speeding, of course.”

  Sarah glanced in the rearview mirror and caught Lindsey’s eye. They shared a secret smile.

  “Of course not, Mitch. I want to be able to drive myself places and not have to worry about my hair blowing all around or if I can wear a skirt or not. Your motorcycle is cool, but not female friendly.”

  Sarah bit her lip and peeked at Mitch. He winked that wicked wink and heat shimmied all the way to her toes. His motorcycle had been extremely female friendly the other night up by the lake.

  Sarah pulled into the car dealership and parked. Right away, a salesman approached, sticking out a hand to Mitch. “Well, I’ll be damned,” he said, pumping Mitch’s hand up and down. “If it isn’t the long lost Defalco brother. How you doing, man?”

  A momentary look of consternation passed across Mitch’s handsome face, but he didn’t miss a beat, Sarah had to give him credit. One glance at the nametag, and he made a fast recovery.

  “Fletcher Boone,” Mitch said. “How’s it going?”

  “Great. Own my own business, as you can see. Heard you were back in town. You looking to buy a car? Truck?”

  “Yeah, I’m looking for a car for my daughter. Lindsey, meet Fletcher Boone. We went to school together.”

  Fletcher shook Lindsey’s hand, then turned to Sarah. “And you must be the little woman,” he said. “Although, you look awfully familiar...”

  Before Sarah could set him straight, Lindsey giggled and so did Josh. Then Lindsey stopped laughing, casting a curious glance at Mitch and Sarah.

  Josh stepped forward. “My mom’s not Mr. Mitch’s wife. They aren’t married or anything.”

  Sarah finally found her tongue. “I’m Sarah Cooper. I was several years behind you and Mitch in school. Mitch and Lindsey are my neighbors.”

  Fletcher smiled and shook her hand. “Oh well, sorry about that. You all look like one happy family to me. Anyway, Mitch, what kind of car are you looking for?”

  “Something safe and reliable.”

  “And sporty,” Lindsey added.

  Fletcher smiled his salesman’s toothy smile. “I bet I know just what you have in mind, young lady.” He took Lindsey by the elbow and led the way toward the small compacts, leaving Mitch, Sarah and Josh to follow behind.

  ****

  “Mom, I been thinking about that salesman,” Josh said, spearing two pickles from the pickle jar. “About how he thought you were Mr. Mitch’s wife.”

  Huh-oh.

  Sarah put down her paring knife and sat at the kitchen table next to her son. It was Sunday morning and they were back from church. She was preparing a nice lunch to eat on the back porch, where they could enjoy the spring sunshine.

  “He made a mistake, Josh. He didn’t mean anything by it.”

  “Yeah, except it got me thinking. We did look like a happy family. Mr. Mitch and Lindsey are doing better. Lindsey is happier now, even if she still doesn’t call him ‘Dad.’ Do you think maybe Mr. Mitch would like a little boy? Like me?”

  Good lord. “Oh baby, I don’t know—”

  “I mean, he wouldn’t be my real dad, because my real dad’s in heaven. I don’t think Dad would mind too bad if we tried to be a family with Mr. Mitch and Lindsey, do you?”

  What had she done? How could this be happening? Not only had she gone and fallen for Mitch, but Josh was falling for him, too.

  Sarah swiped a clump of red hair from Josh’s freckled forehead. “Listen, sweetie. We’re friends with Mitch and Lindsey. That’s all we are.”

  “But we could be more. Don’t you like Mr. Mitch? You went out with him to dinner and rode on his motorcycle. I know you weren’t too happy after the dinner, but you looked real happy after the motorcycle ride. And maybe you wouldn’t feel so lonely without Dad if you started to like Mr. Mitch.”

  Oh dear God, yes. She got up and returned to the counter to finish making lunch.

  “Well?” Josh asked.

  Sarah cut a tuna sandwich into four perfect triangles and placed them on a paper plate. What to say? How to explain? “I don’t know Mitch well enough to marry him. We’ll stay friends with them for now. Whatever happens, will happen. Just don’t get your hopes up, okay?”

  Josh shrugged and sighed. “Okay, but a guy can hope a little bit, right?”

  Sarah nodded. Oh yeah, and so could a woman.

  ****

  “I hope Lindsey isn’t feeling like we’re taking advantage of her,” Sarah said, following Mitch into his studio. It was after hours and they’d left the kids at Sarah’s house, playing videos and drinking Kool-Aid.

  “This is only the third or fourth time we’ve asked her to watch Josh,” Mitch said. “If you like, I can pay her for her time.”

  “I’ll pay her. She’s a good girl. I think she’s finally relaxing and letting down her guard.”

  Flipping on lights in the back of the studio, Mitch moved a table and several carpet-covered blocks, clearing space. “Yeah, things are getting better. Looks like I’m starting to get the hang of fatherhood. Stand right here while I get things set up.”

  Sarah watched as he maneuvered the overhead lights and pulled down different backdrops ranging from a green meadow to a blue sky to a swirling mass of muted colors. A jumble of props used in his portraits littered the back of the studio. There were baskets, antique chairs, a beach umbrella, and even a full-sized brightly painted carousel horse.

  Mitch placed a white trellis with silk ivy against the blue-sky backdrop. He positioned a gilded Louis XIV armchair in front of the trellis, adjusting it several times until the angle was right.

  Sarah was still
nosing around the props when he came up behind her. “Ready?” he whispered in her ear.

  She closed her eyes and almost melted when he put his hands on her shoulders and pulled her against him. He rubbed the tense muscles in her neck. “We need to loosen you up. There’s no reason to be nervous.”

  “I still don’t understand why you want to take pictures of me. And how in the world does this count as lesson number four?”

  Although Sarah couldn’t see him, she felt him smile against her hair. “Do I detect a trace of eagerness in your voice?” he said. “Dare I hope you’re enjoying our lessons together?”

  She turned and draped her arms around his neck. “Okay, I admit it. I am enjoying our lessons. You’re an excellent teacher. Brilliant... Superb...”

  “This isn’t a joking matter, Sarah. You asked me to help and I’m trying my best.”

  “By taking pictures of me?”

  “Trust me on this, sweetheart. I haven’t let you down so far, right?”

  “No, you haven’t let me down.” She let him take her hand and pull her to the trellis and chair. “Maybe I should brush my hair.”

  He gently pushed her into the chair. “I’ll brush your hair. The point of this exercise is to get you more accustomed to my touch.”

  “I thought we did that on the motorcycle.”

  “These will be different touches. And no, I don’t make a habit of copping feels off my clients. With a little imagination, I can accomplish two things at once in this lesson. I’ll be touching you like I’ve never touched you before, and I’ll be photographing you so you’ll be able to see yourself as I see you.”

  “And how do you see me, Mr. Defalco?”

  He leaned his hands on both armrests, effectively trapping Sarah in the chair. He gazed into her eyes, studying her, looking into her soul. “I see a beautiful woman. A brave woman. Trying to go it alone and make a good life for herself and her son. Especially her son. You inspire me, Sarah. I admire you. I also find you sexy and hot. And I’m going to try to capture that on film.”