A Man Not Her Own Page 7

  He shook his head and stepped onto the porch. “I don’t know about that. She’ so stubborn—”

  “Hmm... I wonder where she got that?”

  Mitch smiled a half-smile. “What can you possibly mean?”

  Sarah shrugged, pleased with herself for making such a sassy remark. Well, sassy for her anyway—not her usual way of doing things, but wasn’t she trying to change? Step out of her safe routine?

  Mitch stood before her. “Mind if I sit with you?”

  Yes. Sarah swallowed a glob of vanilla ice cream. “Be my guest.”

  The swing dipped as Mitch sank down beside her. Sarah angled into her corner and pulled her knees close to her chest, glad her long skirt covered most of her. She stared at her bare toes peeking out beneath her skirt. They reminded her of the night she had gone over to see about a sick Lindsey and the intimacy of the dimly lit hallway. The closeness of Mitch, bare-chested, half-clothed—

  “You’re dripping.”

  Sarah blinked. “What?”

  Mitch reached over and wiped the corner of her mouth with his thumb. His touch lingered for a second or two, burning her skin. Dark brown eyes trapped hers and Sarah couldn’t make herself look away.

  Had he figured out what she’d been thinking? About that night in his hallway?

  He held up his thumb. “Ice cream. You’re dripping.”

  “Oh. Thanks.” She didn’t have a napkin and before she thought, she licked where his finger had touched.

  The swing jerked as Mitch went rigid, his eyes burning on hers. The air crackled with electricity.

  Her ice cream was melting fast. Probably from the heat radiating between them. Chocolate and vanilla oozed down her fingers.

  “Damn!” Sarah tried to stand, but Mitch detained her with a strong grip on her shoulder. His touch threatened a meltdown, not only of her cone, but her insides as well.

  “Wait a minute.” He removed his hand and dug in his pocket. “Here you go.” He handed her a clean white handkerchief.

  “Thanks.” Sarah’s hand trembled as she wiped the messy goop from her fingers and hand. While she cleaned herself, she didn’t say anything. What was there to say? She didn’t want to acknowledge the sensual feelings pounding through her like a percussionist beating a drum. She didn’t know if she could carry through on those feelings. Didn’t know if she really wanted to.

  And what about Mitch? He wasn’t married. Was he seeing someone?

  The silence between them grew almost deafening. The only sound was the scrape of the swing’s chains on the ceiling hooks as they rocked back and forth. Mitch kept them moving with the toe of his cowboy boot on the porch floor.

  Sarah finished her task and offered the handkerchief back. He took it from her—their fingers brushed in passing. She gasped at the brief contact. Every nerve ending exploded with awareness. Mitch’s eyes burned like two hot coals as he stuffed the handkerchief in his pocket.

  Still, neither spoke. The sun slowly dipped below the horizon, the western sky shimmered with reds and oranges and purples. The air smelled of honeysuckle and jasmine. Lightning bugs flickered here and there in the distance.

  Mitch threw his arm over the back of the swing and leaned forward until their faces were very close. He looked at her mouth, then into her eyes. “I want to kiss you, Sarah Smiles.”

  Chapter Five

  Mitch didn’t wait for permission. He moved in closer, touching his lips to hers, pressing gently, letting them both get a feel for the other. He’d sworn he wasn’t going to kiss Sarah Cooper, but sitting next to her on the swing like this, she was a temptation he had no power to resist.

  For a minute, she didn’t respond and he worried that he’d overstepped his welcome. Then her lips trembled beneath his, and she exhaled a soft sigh. When he heard the little moan in the back of her throat, he put his arms around her and pulled her forward.

  Mitch deepened the kiss, taking it to the next level, swiping his tongue against her lips. She opened for him, tilting her head for better access and he slid inside her mouth. She tasted of chocolate and vanilla and the sweet essence of Sarah.

  She touched his cheek, her fingers rubbing his beard. The friction of the movement contrasted with the smoothness of their joined mouths.

  There were a million reasons why he shouldn’t be kissing Sarah. Except right now, with his mind cross-wired and short-circuited, he couldn’t remember a single one of them. He had no idea why he’d told Sarah he wanted to kiss her. She was so damn cute—she’d actually blushed. Then her eyes went all sad and almost panicky, and he hadn’t waited for the refusal hovering over her lips.

  Mitch tried to get closer to her, but her legs were still scrunched between them. He dragged her onto his lap, not breaking contact with her mouth. She wrapped her arms around his neck and played with the hair at his nape.

  When she wiggled her butt on his lap, Mitch nearly lost it. He was hard as a rock already. It had been too long since he’d done anything like this.

  He held her steady with hands on her curvy hips, kissed her hard and deep. Moving one hand over her stomach, he inched slowly upward until he encountered the soft curve of one breast.

  Suddenly Sarah stiffened and tore her mouth away. Before he could say or do anything, she shot out of his lap. Her eyes were big and round and she gasped for breath.

  Mitch stood and tried to move closer. She backed away, one arm stretched out as if to fend him off, the other hugging her stomach like she felt sick.

  “Sarah, what’s the matter?” he said, still reeling from the aftershock of the kiss. His body was having one hell of a time accepting the fact that it was over, when they’d hardly begun.

  Sarah shook her head and put her fist to her mouth.

  Christ, she was crying!

  Quickly, he closed the distance between them, ignoring the panicked look in her eyes. She cowered from him, scared and frightened, small and vulnerable. He reached out and she cringed. Jesus, what was going on?

  “It’s all right,” he said. “Nothing’s going to happen.” He rubbed her cheek, trying to soothe her. A protectiveness rose up inside that surprised the hell out of him. “I’d never hurt you, Sarah Smiles. You know that, don’t you?”

  She nodded and dashed the tears from her beautiful hazel eyes. She took several deep breaths, then bit her bottom lip until it almost bled, holding her arms over her stomach, rocking back and forth in an effort to calm herself.

  “You kissed me back,” Mitch said, not knowing what was wrong, not knowing what to do. “I thought you were enjoying the kiss.”

  Sarah heard the anguish and concern in Mitch’s voice and knew she was behaving badly. She couldn’t help herself; she had to get a hold of her emotions, before she embarrassed herself any further.

  Focus, Sarah girl. This is Mitch, not that jerk who assaulted you back in college. Mitch, who you’re beginning to admire. The man who’s awakened your hormones from a long dormant sleep.

  “Sarah? Are you okay?”

  She shook her head. She couldn’t look at him. Not yet. She couldn’t breathe, because she was still holding her stomach so tightly. Then she discovered she’d squashed the last of her ice-cream cone to smithereens. Sticky, melted goop dripped down her skirt, staining the gauzy fabric.

  Big fat tears spilled over her cheeks. Tears that had nothing to do with melted ice cream, but everything to do with her life since that horrible night so long ago. Life was dangerous. Better to always play it safe.

  Her husband had calmed her fears and she’d become somewhat comfortable with his kisses and his touch. But nothing more. Only comfortable.

  Something Sarah had never felt around Mitch Defalco. Not when he’d been dating her older sister. Not when he rode that monster of a motorcycle. And especially not now, when he stood there looking oh-so-sexy in that black T-shirt and five o’clock shadow.

  No, she certainly didn’t feel comfortable with Mitch. Not by a long shot. Scared, anxious—yes. Nervous and excited—most defi
nitely. And alive, so alive. Something she hadn’t felt in years.

  “You’re dripping again.”

  Sarah tossed the remains of her cone in the bushes and started to wipe her hands on her skirt. Mitch took both of them in his, wiping one then the other with his handkerchief.

  Gentle. Patient. Soothing.

  Mitch Defalco. Who would have guessed?

  What a contrast to just a moment before, when Sarah had felt all the pent-up sexual energy radiating in his kiss and the way he held her in his strong arms. She’d been riding the wave of desire, feeling wonderful. Marvelous.

  Until he touched her breast.

  That triggered the memories. Cut off all desire, all emotion, all feeling. Except fear.

  Mitch finished cleaning her sticky fingers, then folded the handkerchief, took her chin in his hand and gently wiped away her tears. “I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

  “It’s not you,” she whispered. “It’s me. I’m sorry.”

  He held her chin, searching her eyes. “Was it something I did?”

  She couldn’t tell him. She shook her head. “It’s my fault. I don’t know what to say, how to explain—”

  Mitch placed a finger over her lips. “You don’t have to explain anything. I’m sorry I upset you. I’m not sorry I kissed you. I want to do it again, but not until you’re ready and only if you want to.”

  Sarah drew in a long shuddering breath. “I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready. It’s complicated.”

  “I think I understand—”

  “You can’t understand. Not until—”

  “Not until you’re ready.” Mitch bent down and kissed her cheek. “Goodnight, Sarah Smiles.” He flicked her nose, smiled his wicked smile, then trotted down the steps and across the lawn to his house.

  Sarah gazed after him, holding her hand to her cheek, covering the spot he’d kissed.

  What had just happened here?

  ****

  What the hell had happened Friday night? What the hell had he been thinking, kissing Sarah, for God’s sakes? Mitch castigated himself all weekend, knowing he ought to go apologize to Sarah, chickening out every time he headed for the backdoor.

  Monday morning finally dawned, and he escaped from the house, thankful to go to work. He loaded his camera and prepared for the first shoot of the day. He had a ten o’clock appointment and he needed to get his head on straight. Get it out of his ass and while he was at it, stop kicking himself in the butt for giving into temptation and kissing Sarah.

  He’d made up his mind that he couldn’t start anything with her. He’d dated her older sister, for Christ’s sakes. What had he been thinking?

  Mitch chose the backdrops he would use for the shoot, then checked out the lighting. He’d had no business kissing Sarah, holding her, making her cry.

  God, he’d made her cry. He still couldn’t figure that one out. He’d spent a restless night with his frustrated body and confused brain. Granted his body had been on a roll, responding to the lovely woman in his arms and on his lap. Except try as he might, Mitch couldn’t think what he’d done that would make Sarah cry.

  All he could think was that she’d loved her husband so much, she felt guilty for kissing another man.

  That had to be it.

  Sweet, sweet Sarah. Probably still mourned her dead husband, probably believed she had betrayed him.

  Mitch adjusted the camera on the tripod, then went out front to await the arrival of his first customers.

  Women always complicated matters. When would he get that through his thick skull? He’d been going along, fine and dandy, when bam! He’d found out he had a daughter. The result of a one-night stand, a lifetime ago. Back in his wild past. A past he was constantly trying to live down.

  No way could he live down the consequences of that particular night. He had a living breathing reminder now. A daughter, for Christ’s sake.

  Yeah, women complicated matters big time, and Sarah Cooper was a complication for sure. He’d enjoyed kissing her, but kissing her only made him want her in the most basic sense, and with an urgency that was almost frightening.

  The door buzzed as it opened. Instead of Gloria Jamail and her two-year-old daughter, it was Sarah who entered his studio.

  “Hey,” she said, not smiling.

  “Hey.” His fault. His fault Sarah wasn’t smiling. He was a sorry bastard.

  Slowly, she walked toward him. She wore one of those long gauzy skirts again with a white blouse tucked in, emphasizing her curvy hips and slender waist. A waist he’d like to span with his hands. He’d like to hold her close, breathe in her special scent and kiss her again.

  Yeah, he was one sorry bastard.

  When she reached the counter, she stopped. Her honey brown hair floated around her head. Mitch liked the effect; it was sexy and sassy. Sarah pushed her bangs out of her eyes and looked around. “This is nice.”

  “Thanks. What can I do for you this morning?” He knew what he’d like to do. Somehow, he didn’t think Sarah was ready for it though.

  She shifted from one foot to the other. “I know you’re busy and I won’t keep you long.”

  Mitch glanced at his watch. “I have ten minutes or so before my first appointment.”

  She ran her hands over the glass top of the counter. Mitch noticed she wasn’t wearing a wedding band. Had she been wearing it last night? Her fingers were long, almost fragile, the nails trimmed and painted to match her toes. He’d like to feel those fingers running over his skin.

  Get your mind out of the gutter, Defalco.

  Finally, she lifted her head and looked straight at him. “I want to apologize for my behavior Friday night.”

  A certain tilt to her chin, an angle to her head, a faint trembling in her body... What was going on? “There’s nothing to apologize for.”

  She bit her lip. “Yes, there is. I don’t want you to think I’m a tease or anything—”

  Mitch leaned forward. “I never thought that. I didn’t plan on kissing you. Maybe I shouldn’t have done it. But damn, it was good.”

  Sarah traced her finger across the glass counter again, keeping her gaze on the lazy motion. “Yes. It was good.”

  Mitch wanted to kiss the top of her head. He straightened and stepped back.

  As if coming out of a trance, Sarah stopped the tracing and crossed her arms across her breasts, pushing them against the silky fabric of her blouse.

  Mitch swallowed down the lust building in his body. “I liked kissing you, Sarah.”

  Another swipe at the flyaway hair. A fleeting glance, then away, then back. “I liked it, too.” A pause, a sigh. “Do you think we can do it again?”

  Mitch’s jaw dropped. Hell yes, they could do it again. In fact, he’d like to lean over right now and kiss those pink moist lips, except now was not a good time. And he still wasn’t sure what had upset her so much. “We can if you want to.”

  Her tongue darted out, licking her bottom lip, making Mitch glad he was standing behind the counter. His body reacted powerfully to that innocent gesture. He knew it was innocent, because there wasn’t a seductive, calculating bone in Sarah’s body.

  “I think I want to,” she said. “First, I need to tell you something. Something important. Do you think we could go out to dinner and talk? You might not want to kiss me again after I tell you.”

  “Sarah—”

  “How about tonight?”

  Mitch had no idea where this was going. What could she possibly have to tell him? “Tonight is fine.”

  “Do you think Lindsey could watch Josh while we’re out?”

  “Sure. I think she’s free tonight.”

  The door buzzed again. Gloria walked in with her little girl. His ten o’clock shoot.

  “Hey, Gloria,” Sarah said, backing away from Mitch and the counter.

  “Hi, Sarah. How are you?”

  “Good. I’ve got to run... Seven okay with you, Mitch?”

  “Seven’s great.” He watched Sarah leave the
studio and turned to greet Gloria. It was going to be one hell of a long day.

  ****

  Sarah kept her eye on the clock the rest of the morning and afternoon. Her nerves were shot and she jumped whenever the door opened. She couldn’t concentrate on any of the lessons she gave and she was glad when six o’clock came around and she could finally close the store.

  After Mitch had kissed her, Sarah had thought long and hard. She’d called herself a fool ten times over for screwing up the best kiss to come her way in... well, ever.

  She’d stayed on the porch for quite a while after Mitch had left and watched the sun sink below the horizon leaving a brilliant night sky behind. The air turned chilly and it matched the cold feeling in her heart...in her bones...in her soul.

  All weekend long, she’d thought about the kiss and how she’d reacted. She had thought she’d put the past behind her. She’d thought Ryan had cured most of her fears. She should have known better—

  “Hey, Mrs. Cooper!” Thomas Mendoza called from the doorway of the storage room at the back of the store. He walked toward her carrying a medium-sized cardboard box in his arms and set it on the counter. “You want me to put these reeds in the display case before I leave?” he asked, already tearing open the box. Thomas was a dedicated worker and an excellent employee.

  Sarah shook her head. “Not tonight. I need to get home. Let me give you your paycheck.” She walked to the cash register and pulled the drawer open, reached under the tray and handed Thomas his check.

  “Thanks.” He tucked it into his wallet and smiled. “See you tomorrow. Good night, Mrs. Cooper.”

  “Good night, Thomas.”

  Sarah grabbed her purse, locked the door behind her and drove the short distance to Josh’s daycare, picked him up and headed home. She had forty-five minutes to feed Josh and get ready to go out with Mitch. They hit the front door running.

  Fifteen minutes and Sarah had Josh sitting at the table eating boxed macaroni and cheese. Lindsey sat with him, drinking a glass of Kool-Aid.

  “Mom, why do you hafta eat dinner with Lindsey’s dad?” Josh asked. “It’s not a date, is it?”

  Sarah caught Lindsey’s eye. The girl stared at her over the rim of her glass, her brown eyes calculating.