LAUREL’S HOUSE was dark when she arrived home. She tucked her keys back into her purse and closed the front door behind her. Her driveway was empty, so she assumed Sean had gotten caught up in moving his things in and was running late. Or maybe not coming at all.
They hadn’t spoken during the day, so she’d had no way to tell him how behind she’d gotten. It had all started with the surprise meeting with her father and had snowballed out of control from there. The only positive part of the whole day was that she had been kept too busy to worry about Alan. For the most part, anyway.
She was checking her answering machine for messages, thinking maybe Sean had already come and gone—it was going on eight by now—when she stopped, turned and sniffed the air. Something definitely smelled…different. Good different. In fact, her stomach chose that moment to growl in abject appreciation. Her lunch had consisted of an apple and a bottle of water, slugged down in between phone conferences and actual meetings, so even the hint of hot food on the premises was enough to make her instantly ravenous.
She set her purse and briefcase down by the hall table and walked into the front room, still sniffing the air. Spicy. Her stomach punctuated that thought with another audible growl.
“Sean?” A glance toward the kitchen told her the room was dark and empty. So she walked through the family room, which was almost completely dark, save for the flickering light emanating from the direction of the stairs. She was smiling as she walked past the couch, slid off her suit jacket and tossed it onto the matching stuffed chair. Her smile turned to a gasp as she spied the source of the flickering light. She’d already deduced candles…but never could have imagined the dozens of tapers, short and fat, tall and thin, crowding the wall ledge of the open stairwell. More candles nestled in the recessed area on the first floor landing.
Her hand was to her mouth as she finished climbing the stairs. Had he really done all this for her? She’d thought about him often during the day, despite her crowded schedule. Maybe because of it. She’d been looking forward to him being here when she got home. She’d expected him to be exhausted, maybe even stretched out on the couch asleep, waiting for her to get home. She’d even thought about stopping to pick something up, in case he hadn’t had time. But she knew if Sean said he was going to do something, he did it. And he’d promised Chinese food. Of course, he’d said nothing about candles and seduction.
She paused on the landing, staring at the flickering lights, thinking about his intensity, his focus…shivering with pleasure in the knowledge that right at the moment, his focus was going to be on her. And it made her wonder what else he had planned for the evening. She shivered again.
“Hungry?”
She swiveled around, and found him standing in the doorway to her bedroom, wearing a pair of faded gray sweats…and nothing else. Her heart rate doubled. “You have no idea.”
He grinned. “Judging by the look in your eyes, I might have a vague clue.”
Now it was her turn to grin. Had she really worried that it might be at all awkward between them this evening? For all her anticipation of seeing him again, knowing she’d likely end her day the same delicious way she’d begun it, she also knew they still had some talking to do. Serious talking. And she’d worried that it might spoil…well, everything else.
Apparently, Sean believed in hedging his bets. At the moment she fully agreed with the strategy.
He gently took her wrists, tugged her slowly closer. The heels of her low pumps scuffed across the hard-wood landing until her body was flush against his. Then he tucked her wrists—still in his hands—behind her back and bent his mouth to hers. She arched into him, gasping in pleasure, both at the feel of his mouth on hers and the solid hardness of his body.
“Missed you,” he murmured when he finally ended the kiss.
She wasn’t sure she could state her own name clearly at the moment. The man simply took her breath away. “Mmm,” she finally managed to get out. “Me, too.”
“I wasn’t sure when you were going to get here, so I kept everything in the cartons.” He glanced around at the candles. “Good thing you got here when you did, though. In addition to probably creating a fire hazard, if you’d been too much later, they’d have all gutted out.”
She noticed then, how far they’d all burned down. “I’m so sorry it took me so long, my day was obnoxious from start to finish. First my dad—”
“You spoke to your father?”
Gone was the husky, seductive tone. Sean the Marshal had returned. For some reason, it made her smile. She liked the complex mix that made him the man he was. “I did. And we can talk about it over cold Chinese food.”
He raised his eyebrows. “I guess we will.”
“I can’t help it. I’m starving. Should we put these out first?” She looked at all the candles.
He surprised her by leaning down and nuzzling the side of her neck, all but growling in a low and throaty moan. “I’ve been needing to put out a certain fire all day…but I suppose we should start with the candles.”
She laughed, then gasped as he turned her face to his and kissed her long and hard. “Well,” she said, breathing heavily, “I mean, how bad a fire hazard can they be, right?” She pulled his mouth back to hers, kissing him even as he laughed.
He pulled her into the bedroom, back-walking until his spine hit her dresser. His mouth never left hers, even as he groped at the dresser top behind him. “Ah,” he said against her mouth, before finally lifting his lips from hers. “Here.”
Hormones swimming, it took her a moment to notice what he held. A long-stemmed, brass candle extinguisher. “Boy,” she said, a bit surprised. “You really do think of everything.”
“No, my older sister Isabel thinks of everything. Although I’m going to tell her that overkill on the candles might be romantic…until you have to stop to put each one out.”
“Your sister Isabel was the one to suggest the candles?”
His grin turned a bit sheepish. “I’d like to say I’m a natural in the romance and seduction arena—”
“You’re no slouch, let me tell you.”
His grin widened, making his eyes gleam. “Why, thank you.”
“So,” she said, not wanting to fish…but basically fishing anyway. “Why was your sister offering you seduction advice? Did you talk to her about us?”
He took her hand, as if he couldn’t bear to give up the contact—a sentiment she was fully okay with—and pulled her back to the stairs. He talked as he snuffed. “Not in detail. I—” He paused in the act of putting out one of the taller tapers, then extinguished the flame abruptly before turning to face her. “You want the God’s honest truth? I want to shout it to the world.”
Her heart did a little flip and she couldn’t wipe the wide, satisfied smile from her face. “But?”
He went back to snuffing candles. “It’s not that I don’t trust my family, but I thought it was best to play it safe.” She followed him down the steps, until the last candle was out…casting them in the glow of the only light left—a small lamp on the nightstand back in her bedroom. “I sort of ran out of candles by the time I got to the top of the stairs,” he said by way of explanation as to why there weren’t any actually in her bedroom.
“Where did you get them all?”
“Izzy has a fetish for them. She gave me a whole box.”
Laurel felt a little twinge of envy at the affectionate expression on his face when he spoke of his sister. “I can’t imagine what it’s like having one sibling, much less the fistful you have.”
They walked back up the stairs, hands still woven together. Somehow, it was that easy camaraderie that underscored how natural their connection had been since the very beginning. She squeezed his hand. “Although I suppose it definitely has its downside.” She laughed when Sean merely snorted.
“One or two,” he said dryly, tugging her back into the bedroom. “It’s always a bit…boisterous when we’re all together. We spend most of our time dishing it out and trying to save face by taking it better than the other one. I’m not sure if you’ll ever be ready to meet them as a group, but maybe one at a time would keep you from wanting to run screaming into the night.”
She smiled at that, even as she let out a little gasp upon spying the thick blanket and tray of little white cartons and dishes he’d laid out across her bed. Though her stomach protested the delay, she tugged on his hand so he faced her. “I do want to meet them. And I want you to meet my dad. Family is important.” She reached up and kissed him softly. “I’m sure I’ll love yours.”
He kissed her back. “Thank you,” he murmured.
“For?”
“Being…right.”
She laughed. “About?”
“Not about anything. I mean, you’re just…you know…right. For me.” He laughed a bit self-consciously. “I know it sounds corny. But when I was moving in today, my sister Isabel was there, along with my baby brother, Clay. My dad showed up later. And…well, going home for holidays is always like this huge whirlwind of laughter, talk, arguing, kidding around, hugging, then saying goodbye. I used to think that as much as I love seeing everyone, I was lucky for being able to walk away from all the emotional turmoil. It’s an unavoidable part of being from a big family, and I felt like I’d struck the right balance.”
“Are you second-guessing moving back home?”
He shook his head. “That’s just it. I’m actually enjoying it. Izzy was asking about you today.”
“I thought you said she doesn’t know about me.”
“My older sister knows everything,” he said, and so gravely it made her laugh again. “I didn’t have to tell her I’d met someone. She was already guessing inside the first ten seconds, then proceeded to badger me every chance she got for whatever details she could trick me into revealing.”
“How’d she do?”
Sean grinned, surprised by the question. “You don’t seem too annoyed by her tactics.”
Laurel shrugged. “Did she break you?”
He puffed up his chest. “You think me incapable of withstanding the interrogation of one lone female?”
“Only if that lone female happens to be a sister. And an older one to boot.”
He grinned. “Okay, I copped to having met someone.” He cupped her chin, looked into her eyes. “Someone very special.”
She’d been ready to tease, enjoyed how easily they did so, so his sudden sincerity left her speechless.
“Anyway,” he went on softly, “I guess I realized that my instincts have always been to keep things close, the classic don’t ask–don’t tell mentality. And today Isabel was asking me to trust her with something important. She’d just found out some not-so-great news herself and had told me without compunction.” He stroked Laurel’s face. “I realized that it was a lot like what I’d asked of you, to make that leap of faith.”
“So you told her.” Laurel kissed him. “I’m glad.”
“Yeah,” he said, his voice a bit more gruff. “Me, too.” He wrapped his arms around her, pressed his face against her hair. “I’m glad to be home. Glad you’re here. It’s more than I’d ever hoped for.”
“Yeah,” she said, echoing his words. “Me, too.”
She knew they still had a lot of ground to cover, and not all of it was going to be smooth. But her stomach growled pretty fiercely, ending the moment, making them both laugh.
“Come on,” he said. “Let’s take this downstairs and heat it up.”
Laurel stopped Sean from grabbing the tray, pushing him down so he sat on the edge of the bed. She straddled his thighs, then reached down and plucked up the carton closest to her, grabbing a set of chopsticks while she was at it.
Feeling his bemused gaze on her, she carefully opened the flaps, then groaned as the fragrant steam rose from the lo mein noodles tucked inside. He twitched beneath her, and her sense of purpose was cemented. “Still warm. Here, hold this.”
He’d been leaning back on his hands, but sat straighter now and took the carton, so she could snap the chopsticks apart. Then she positioned his hand with the carton in it between them. She curled several of the thick, soft noodles on the sticks and lifted them above her head, before slowly sucking them into her mouth.
He groaned deep in his throat.
“Hungry?” she asked with mock innocence.
“Very.” He almost growled the word.
She dipped the sticks back in the carton and wrapped another cluster of noodles around the slender pieces of balsam. “Here.”
“Uh-uh. You. Again.”
Surprised, but definitely turned on by the request, she eyed him as she slowly pulled the end of one noodle in her mouth, then leaned closer to he could take the end of another. Gazes locked, they each pulled the noodles completely into their mouths, then swallowed.
Breathing a bit heavier, she stuck the sticks back into the carton, but Sean snagged them and the carton and put both on the bed, out of her reach. He pulled her down on top of him, pushed his hands into her hair and took her mouth with such unmitigated hunger that she immediately forgot how hungry she was…for food.
He rolled her onto her back, among the pillows at the head of the bed, and began to undress her. “It’s like I’m starving,” he murmured, “all the time. And I can’t get enough.”
She arched as he slid off her skirt and slip, then lifted her arms so her blouse could slide to the floor with them. “Starving,” she agreed, unable to form any real conversation as his tongue dipped into her navel…then progressed lower. Her stockings disappeared, as did her panties. Her inner muscles were clenched so tightly in need she could barely relax enough to let him finish what he was so intent on finishing. And then his tongue touched her and she felt everything unwind into a hot pool of need. She moaned, opened and soared almost the instant he moved on her.
Her climax had barely subsided, was still shuddering inside her, as she dragged him onto her body. He shoved off his sweats and was inside her a moment later with one, long, growling thrust. “Dear God,” he said, forcing himself to hold still, buried deep inside her.
She lifted her hips, unable to control herself in the same way. And that was all it took. He lost his control with a vengeance. She met each hard, pistoning thrust gladly, almost gleefully, no longer sure whose moans filled the air. His climax was punctuated with a long, deep growl of satisfaction, and she clung to him, wanting to feel every last vibration and pulse.
He rolled onto his back, skin damp with sweat, eyes closed as his chest heaved. Laurel curled against his side, pushing damp hair from her face, trying to catch her breath. Even after their panting subsided, they lay tangled together, content to silently stroke each other. She traced fingertips across his chest; he toyed with the ends of her hair.
“I keep thinking,” she began, her voice still a bit rough, “when we’re apart, that it can’t be as…overwhelmingly right as it seems when we’re together. That my memory must be faulty, or that I’m just wishing it to be that way.” She laid her palm flat on his chest, over the now steady beat of his heart. “So I’m always a bit stunned when it’s really all that and more.”
“I know,” he said, his voice filled with the same sense of wonder. He covered her hand with his, traced her fingers with his. After a long moment he said, “We need to finish this thing. With Bentley.”
She stilled, but he kept her hand trapped on his chest when she might have pulled it away.
He continued before she could say anything more. “I know we’ve been moving along at the speed of light since we met. But I’m not in any real mood to slow down. I don’t want to fly under the radar. I don’t want to park a block away near a park and sneak into your house like a thief, just to keep the media from suspecting you might actually have a life.”
She sat up slowly, looking down at him. “Do you think I enjoy being in the center of all this?”
He held her gaze steadily. “Of course not.” He held her hand even more tightly against his chest. “In fact, I get the impression that you’re not enjoying much of any part of your job.”
She looked away then, knowing she was too emotionally vulnerable at the moment to hide her reaction.
He tugged on her hand until she looked back at him. “I didn’t mean to go there. It’s just a part of you I’ve noticed and I can’t help but be concerned about it. If it helps any, I’m proud of what you do. But I’d be just as proud of you no matter what career path you took. As long as you’re happy.” He wove his fingers through hers, tugged her down until she leaned against his chest. “I didn’t fall in love with the judge—I fell in love with the woman.”
“What?” she said, not quite sure she’d heard him right. “What did you say?”
“I said I love you.” He pushed her hair back, tucked it behind her ear. “I want us to be a real ‘us.’ Warts and all.” He smiled and it was such a tender, sweet smile, so at odds with the intense, focused man she knew him to be, she felt tears gather at the corners of her eyes.
“I want my family to scare the hell out of you,” he went on. “I want your father to put the fear of God into me. And there’s only one thing standing in our way.”
“It’s…a lot,” she said. “A lot to deal with. All at once.”
“I know. But like I said before, we don’t get to choose where and when life will throw us a curve. There will be more.”
“You…You’re right,” she said finally. “About my dissatisfaction with my job. I’m…I think I make a good judge, but I’m not a great one. Not in the illustrious Patrick tradition. Mostly because I feel too much, care maybe a little too much. Which can be agony in my position. I—I don’t have any real aspiration to ascend to the state supreme court. Nor do I see a future for myself in politics.”
She’d looked away from him by the time she finished. He touched her chin with his finger, turned her face back toward him. “I don’t imagine being the first Patrick to turn away from the bench could be an easy thing to do.”
“That would be an understatement,” she said dryly. “And it’s not that I don’t love law. I do. It fascinates me, always has. Mostly, I suppose, because my dad, and his dad before him, were so passionate about it. I was raised with it, raised to embrace the wondrous and amazing intricacies of it. And I did. Do. But…I guess it’s taken me some time to realize that while I have a great love of it, I don’t have a passion for practicing it. If that makes any sense.”
“It does. And I know it probably feels far too late now, but don’t you think if your father knew how unhappy you are, he’d want you to do something else? Do you know what you would like to do?”
She smiled, but it was more bittersweet than happy. “Truthfully? I’d always thought I’d like to follow in my mother’s footsteps.”
“What does she do?”
“Did. She passed away seven years ago.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know. I guess it makes your bond to your father all the more close, and the things you’ve bonded over all the more special.”
She stared at him, somewhat stunned at his insight. “You’re a pretty amazing man.”
“I just pay attention where you’re concerned, is all.”
It was more than that, way more than that. He was an astute judge of character and probably his high level of training had only enhanced that natural trait. Still, it flattered her more than it unnerved her to know he’d pegged her so easily.
“So, what did your mother do?”
It was only then that Laurel realized she’d talked herself into a bit of a corner. He’d just told her he loved her. And now she was put in the position to tell him that the single biggest thing she’d dreamed of was someday being a wife and mother. Nothing like a little pressure.
“What’s so funny?” he asked.
“Nothing, it’s just…well, I don’t want you to take this the wrong way.” Though she was concerned about putting any pressure on him, oddly enough she realized she wasn’t in the least worried about his reaction to the goal itself. Pretty amazing, considering she’d never told her long-harbored secret to a single other soul.
“Spill it,” he urged.
“She was…well, this sounds so cliché, but she was the world’s best mom. Wife, too, although I wasn’t as focused on that part, of course. My dad, however, will bore you to tears with stories about what an amazing friend and companion she was to him. Fair warning.” Smiling now, she was warming to her subject…and almost giddy with relief in finally releasing the truth from the dark corners of her heart. “She took care of us, loved us, but it didn’t stop there. She was involved in so many things. Everyone knew her. We had people over all the time, just in and out, for a multitude of reasons…and she always made each person feel so welcome.” She knew she sounded ridiculously wistful. “I’ve always admired her, always thought what a wonderful challenge it would be to raise a family, be involved like she was.” She laughed lightly, but it ended on a sigh. She looked back to Sean. “Can you imagine me telling my father what I really want to be when I grow up is a housewife?”
Sean sat up, his expression more serious than she’d ever seen it. “You didn’t say you wanted to be a housewife. You said you dreamed of being a mother and a wife. You said your father revered his wife, so why don’t you think he’d understand, applaud even, that choice?”
“Because I’m the last one. The last Patrick. I thought…I don’t know, I guess I thought that somehow I could have it all.”
He stared into her eyes so intently, she felt the tears gather again in her own. Only this time she couldn’t keep them from tracking down her cheeks. “I don’t doubt for a second that you couldn’t juggle a demanding career with being a wife, with motherhood,” he said. “But you’d probably feel you were shortchanging both.”
She nodded, then sniffed so hard she made a snorting sound. Sean’s lips twitched and she let out a watery laugh.
“So, don’t do it all. Pick one.”
She rolled her eyes, sniffled again, even as she scrubbed at the tears on her cheeks. “Well, it’s not exactly a job you can sign up for.”
“So,” he said, helping her wipe her tears away with the pads of his thumbs, his tone too studied to be as nonchalant as it sounded. “If you met someone who filled your…job description, then would you choose it?”
He flashed her a short grin and the words just tumbled out. “I love you, too, you know,” she whispered. “I didn’t say it before. But I do.”
His eyes flared then and they both reached for each other. His kiss was fierce, protective…possessive. And she gave it all back to him as she felt all those things, as well.
“So,” he repeated, his voice sounding rough with a few swallowed tears of his own. “If you met someone, and you had the opportunity to do what you’ve always dreamed of doing, would you step down? Would you face your dad?”
She looked into his face, wondering how he’d become so dear to her so quickly. “Honestly? I don’t know. I—I don’t know.”
“Well,” he said, smiling a little, kissing the corners of her mouth. “Maybe we’re going to find the answer to that. But first—”
“I know, we need to talk about Alan.”
Sean made a face. “I was going to say we need to eat a real dinner. But you’re right. I do have some ideas on how to end this thing with him.”
“Do they involve specially trained government agents and covert operations of any kind?” she asked warily.
“Nope. Just good ol’ human ingenuity. And maybe a little outside help. Access to a few toys.”
She raised her eyebrows. “Boy’s toys?”
“U.S. Marshal toys.”
“Even better.”
He grinned. “I just need to know one thing.”
“Which is?”
“Ever played poker?”
She looked confused. “Yes. Why?”
“Are you good at it?”
“Very.”
His grin widened further. “Excellent. I just might be able to park in your driveway by the week’s end.”
“Explain.”
He rolled her onto her back, straddled her waist…and picked up the forgotten carton of lo mein. He fished one noodle out with his fingers and dangled it over her mouth. “Just as soon as we get done eating.”
They never did make it to the kitchen. Laurel didn’t mind. As it turned out, cold Chinese food was quite a…delicacy. It all hinged on the presentation.