It was nearly nine in the morning. Damien and Tess stood in the newly remodeled kitchen, wearing next to nothing. As they waited for the coffeepot to do its thing, they jovially debated some of Tess’s choices in her purchases for the home.
Grinning, Tess wrapped her arms around Damien’s neck and tried to help him remember their initial deal regarding the furniture-buying decisions. “I seem to recall you saying—many times, in fact—that I should consider this my house when I do the design.”
His hands went around her waist. “That was before I saw the pot rack.”
“What’s wrong with the pot rack?” she asked, mystified. “It’s stainless steel. Who doesn’t like stainless steel?”
“I hit my head on it this morning when I was getting a glass of water.”
She laughed. “You are very tall.”
“Hey, you’re supposed to be sympathetic.”
“I am?”
“You’re my wife, after all.”
“Wife for hire,” she corrected.
He shrugged. “Technicality.”
Her heart tugged at his words, and she rolled onto her toes and gave him a quick kiss. “I can have the pot rack taken up—”
“You mean taken down?”
“No,” she said, giving hive a playful swat.
“And then there’s the sink.”
She turned her head and stared at the white porcelain farm sink. “What’s wrong with the sink?”
“It’s a bathtub.”
“It’s beautiful.”
“You could get two kids in here!”
“Well, maybe I’ll have two kids, then,” she teased.
But the teasing part was lost on Damien. His smile died instantly, and a cloud moved over the brightness of his eyes.
“I just meant someday,” she said lightly, noting the stiffness in his arms as he held her. “Someday I’ll have a sink of my own like this, and maybe someday I’ll have a couple kids to stick in it.”
Not much better, Tess.
Damien’s blue eyes narrowed. “Who are you planning on having kids with?”
She didn’t know what to say. “I don’t know. I was just playing—”
“Yeah.” He released her, walked over to the sink. “I don’t like it.”
Neither did she. She didn’t want to think about him being with someone else either or having kids…. But this was their last full day together and he hadn’t given her any indication that he wanted the relationship to continue after he went back to California tomorrow.
“Coffee’s ready,” she said, trying to force a light tone into her voice. “Counters should be here in a few hours.” She glanced around. “This place is so great, so fresh. You know, you could rent it out if you wanted to. Hang on to the property, if you wanted to. Someone might like it for a getaway. Tribute’s got that cute, charming, small-town feel.”
“We’ll see,” he grumbled, his dark, irritated gaze raking over her.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
“I can’t get the thought of you and another guy and kids out of my head.”
Sighing, she put her arms around him and pressed herself against him. “You know what? I’m a little tired from last night. How about you?”
“No.”
She smiled to herself. “I think you are. I think you could do with a nap.”
When she glanced up, his eyes were changing from frustrated to ferocious as he got her meaning. With a hungry growl, he lifted her up and held her in his arms possessively. “I’m taking you to bed.”
“Good.”
His brow lifted wickedly. “But just so we’re clear, there’ll be no napping going on.”
By the time the sun went down that day, the house was complete. From soup to nuts. And Tess had never felt so proud yet so cheerless in her life. Not that she was going to let Damien see how sad she was. In fact, she had planned a lovely night for them. Dinner by the fire, then a repeat performance of that morning.
Tess heard the shower running as she put the water on the stove to boil. In her mind’s eye, she could see Damien, naked and wet, the water sluicing over his skin.
One thing was certain, a night or two of sleeping with him, making love with him, wasn’t going to be enough, and she imagined that after he left for California her life would return to that empty shell it had once been.
She turned into the cutting board and set to work chopping tomatoes for sauce. She wished she knew how Damien felt. But he didn’t give her much. Sure, he didn’t want to think of her with another man or having another life, but he’d been tight-lipped about the future and what he wanted.
Was it possible that he might want to continue seeing her? Long distance? Or maybe moving to Minnesota part-time?
She stopped chopping. One thing she did know for certain was that being here together, in Tribute, had changed them both. And the red house represented that change. From something that was broken-down, messed up and battle-scarred, the little red house had been transformed into a clean, warm, safe, happy place. And Tess and Damien had been transformed along with it.
Tess turned off the burner and left the kitchen. She needed to see Damien, feel him, feel his arms around her again.
The shower was still running, and as she entered the bathroom, she was engulfed in hot, wet steam. Her heart pounding with need, Tess stripped off her clothes, then pulled back the shower curtain.
Damien looked even better than she could possibly imagine, every inch of his hard, muscled body dripping with water.
He grinned at her and offered his hand. “Dirty mind or just plain dirty?”
She took his hand and stepped inside. “A little of both.”
“Good answer,” he said, turning her so her back was to his front. He pulled her against him, against his already-hard shaft, then took the soap in his hand and began to wash her. Down her neck and over her collarbone.
“You let me know when you’re clean,” he whispered in her ear.
She smiled.
He moved the slippery bar over her breasts, over each tight, hard nipple. “How about now?”
She shook her head and uttered a shaky, “No.”
He slipped the soap over her stomach, down over her hip bones, then between the wet curls at her core. “Here? Is this where you need my help?”
She nodded, unable to speak as he stroked her with the slippery soap, as he washed away the feelings of sadness and uncertainty, as he sent her to the moon again and again…
The phrase eating in bed had taken on a whole new meaning for Damien tonight. Like the perfect wife, Tess had served him spaghetti and champagne, pausing every so often to kiss him, nuzzle him and tell him she couldn’t stop thinking about what he had done to her in the shower.
It was pure hell.
And total heaven.
He was leaving for California tomorrow night and everything inside of him was screaming to stay, to forgive her, let it go and try to be happy for once in his miserable life. But there was a force stronger than his feelings for Tess at work here, something that had been six years in the making, an undeniable force.
Damien downed his glass of champagne, then turned to look at Tess. He had never seen her look more beautiful. Happiness and the glow of great sex radiated on her face.
The sucker, the fool inside of him could only think how great it would be to see her look like that every day, every morning when he opened his eyes.
He inhaled deeply, trying to quell the sudden feeling of being pissed off. “Hey, Tess, can I ask you something.”
“Sure.”
“Do you have any regrets?”
She laughed. “Tons.”
“No, I mean, about coming here.”
“I didn’t have much choice, if you recall.” She smiled over her glass of champagne. “But no, I’m glad I came here.” She shrugged. “Maybe this started out as payback for you, maybe it still is, but whether you like it or not it’s ending up being the best thing that could ever happen to me.”
His brow creased. “How’s that?”
She looked up for a moment. “I feel free, for the first time in six years…even longer, maybe.”
He stared at her. Dammit! He had a plan in motion already, an anvil poised and ready to crush the dreams they’d built over the past two weeks. But what? She had made her peace with him already, with being here? She’d found freedom by being here and he was responsible for that?
What the hell? Did she deserve to feel free after what she’d put him through? And did he still have a right to want to make her pay? After everything he knew and had seen.
He didn’t know. But as she put her glass down and slid the sheet off of his body, as she kissed his ear, then his neck and his chest, he decided he didn’t need an answer tonight.
What he did need was her, her heart, her eyes locked with his as she scattered kisses over his chest, down his belly, down to where he ached for her with granitelike hardness….