CHAPTER 18
The back door’s bell summoned Ean from the books he was stacking onto his dining-room bookcase. He straightened from his crouched position and crossed to the door.
“Ramona?” Ean couldn’t believe his eyes. Her presence at his back door seemed surreal. “How did you know where to find me?”
“It’s a small town, Ean. You know that.” She adjusted her shoulders under her winter coat. The material hung in fluid lines over her curves to her midcalf. “May I come in?”
Ean stepped back. “I don’t have any refreshments to offer you. I haven’t made it to the grocery store yet.”
Ramona strutted across the dining room. “It’s kind of small.”
Ean locked the back door. “It’s bigger than your condo.”
Ramona stopped in the center of the living room and looked around. “It probably seems that way because you have two floors.”
It seems that way because it’s true. Ean followed her into the living room. “What are you doing here?”
Ramona turned to face him. “I brought you a housewarming present. Me.”
She unbelted her coat and allowed it to fall to the ground. Ramona was barely clothed in matching skimpy, see-through smoky black bra and panties, that left nothing to the imagination. Her figure was even more enticing today than it had been seven years before. But Ean preferred to make love to the person, not the body. And Ramona didn’t appeal to him as she once had.
Ean met her gaze. This was awkward. “I’m flattered by your offer, but no, thank you.”
A myriad of reactions chased across Ramona’s fair features—confusion, disbelief and shock—before she settled on anger.
“What?” Her octaves could peel the paint from the walls. “I’m not offering you cheese.”
“I’m aware of that.”
“I don’t think you are.” She twisted open the front clasp of her bra, then peeled the cups apart. Her creamy breasts bounced free. Ramona allowed the scrap of fabric to land silently on the ground.
“Put your clothes back on.”
She stepped forward. “Make me.”
Ean clamped his hands around her upper arms and held her still. “I’m not playing games, Ramona. You and I are through.”
“No, we’re not. You came back to Trinity Falls for me.”
“No, I didn’t.” What made her think that?
“You may not realize it yet, but you did. I know you were lonely in New York. I never should have left you. But we can go back together and you won’t be lonely anymore.”
Ean stared at her. “Ramona, I don’t know how you made those conclusions. I came back to Trinity Falls because it’s my home and I’m staying here. If you want to move to a big city, talk with Quincy. He’s interviewing for a job in Philadelphia.”
“What is wrong with you?” Ramona ripped free of Ean’s grasp. “Why are you throwing away everything that we had? Who cares about Philadelphia? We were going to make it big in New York.”
Ean crossed his arms over his chest. “I’ve accomplished all I needed to in New York. If you’d like a shot at the city, be my guest. But I’m not going with you.”
Her eyes flared with fury. “You don’t have anything to keep you here. Your father’s dead and your mother’s sleeping with your high school football coach.”
Ean hung onto his tattered temper with both hands. “Get dressed. And get out.”
He held Ramona’s glare with his own until she broke eye contact and snatched her coat off his carpet.
With stiff movements, Ramona put on the coat and belted it. “You’re a fool.”
“Are you done?” He couldn’t take seriously criticism from a woman without the courage to go for her own dreams.
Ramona tightened the belt around her waist. “You’ll never be happy here. You can’t be. Trinity Falls couldn’t hold you when you were eighteen. What makes you think you can come back to it now?”
When Ean didn’t respond, Ramona shoved past him. The gesture didn’t even rock him on his heels. He tracked Ramona’s progress to his back door. She slammed the door so hard, he wondered it didn’t crack the window beside it. With any luck, this would be his last awkward encounter with her. And, hopefully, she’ll set her sights on someone else. Quincy might be just the calming influence she needed.
“It smells wonderful.” Megan didn’t try to hide her surprise. She leaned against one of the counters in Ean’s kitchen, sipping iced tea with plenty of lemons, just the way she liked it.
“Thanks.” Ean smiled over his shoulder. Her heart sighed.
“Are you sure you don’t need any help?”
“I’ve got it.”
Fine. Then she’d just enjoy the view, which was also very fine. Muscles moved across Ean’s broad back under his black jersey as he stirred the pasta sauce. The image reminded her of the feel of his strength under her fingers last night.
Her gaze trailed down his back to his tight waist and taut buttocks. Megan’s palms itched at the memory of those hard muscles as well. Her study continued to his long, lean legs covered in coffee-colored khakis. Last night, she’d wrapped her limbs around his legs and drawn him tighter to her. She bit back a moan as those memories flooded her body. How would tonight end?
Megan took a long drink of her iced tea to ease her dry throat.
She wandered into the living room. “How’s your unpacking going?”
“Faster than I’d thought.” Ean’s voice carried into the other room. “I’m ready to get on with my life now that I finally know what I’m doing.”
That was Ean. He wasn’t impulsive, but he’d always been impatient—to grow up, to move away, to move on. Was he really going to settle down in Trinity Falls? If so, with whom?
Megan crossed back into the dining room. “We’d love to have you as a member of the Trinity Falls Town Center Business Owners Association.”
“Have you ever considered shortening that name?”
“If we did, would you join the group?”
“What does it do?” He measured spaghetti into the pot of boiling water.
Just the sight of his large hands brought back memories of last night. She sipped more iced tea. “We promote the town center, address its maintenance and resolve any other issues.”
Ean turned away from the stove. “‘Issues’? Like the town council putting the center on the market?”
She had his undivided attention. His olive eyes regarded her with interest. It took a moment to collect her scattered thoughts. “And Ramona’s plans to gentrify the center.”
“How’s she going to do that?” Ean’s expression was part amusement, part confusion.
Megan spread her arms. “Even she doesn’t know. But we’re concerned for our businesses. We’re also concerned for the town.”
“Why?”
“If the council members change the character of the town center, what types of stores will they bring in? Will those stores still meet the town’s needs?”
“Those are very good questions.”
Megan waited for something more than Ean’s verbal pat on the head. “Did you read Darius’s article?”
“Yes.” He took two dinner plates from an open packing box on the marble-tiled flooring to wash and dry them.
She swallowed her exasperation. “Do you agree that there’s a cause for concern?”
“Definitely.” Ean placed the plates on the counter beside the stove.
Megan waited. “And?”
“What?” Ean pulled silverware from another packed box and cleaned them.
Was he being deliberately obtuse? “Would you like to be a member of the business owners association?”
“Sure.” Ean shrugged. “It sounds like an important group.”
Megan shook her head and swallowed a laugh. After all that prodding, Ean made the decision to join the business group seem like a no-brainer. They spent the rest of the pasta preparation talking about the association, Books & Bakery and the tasks Ean had to complete before officially opening his practice.
Their conversation continued through dinner. She helped him clear the table, but Ean insisted on loading the dishwasher and scrubbing the pots and pans himself.
Megan wandered over to his narrow maple wood bookcase and scanned the titles. “When did you develop an interest in biographies? You used to love science fiction.”
“I like a lot of different genres—mysteries, classics, nonfiction. I still read sci-fi.”
“No romance?”
He chuckled. “No.”
Megan looked toward the doorway, surprised that Ean had approached without her hearing him. She pulled a book from one of the shelves. “Did you like The Odyssey?”
“Very much.”
She returned the novel to the bookcase. “Then you enjoy romance.”
He walked over to her and stood so close. “I never said I didn’t enjoy romance.”
His voice was low and rough and elicited a reaction from her she couldn’t put into words. It was a feeling she’d never had before.
Megan swallowed to ease the tightness in her throat. “Can you take anything seriously?”
“Let’s see.” He lowered his mouth to hers. Megan sighed. This was what she’d been waiting for all evening . . . all day. Her eyelids drifted closed and she inhaled deeply. Ean’s scent—musk and soap—clouded her judgment. His taste thrilled her—pasta and spice. His corded arms wrapped around her, pulling her closer to his long, lean warmth. Megan was on sensory overload. She pressed even harder to Ean, pushing her breasts against his muscled chest.
Ean lifted his head, then trailed hot kisses down the side of her neck. “Is this serious enough for you?” His voice was a powerful aphrodisiac.
“Oh yes.” Megan could barely breathe much less talk.
He chuckled deep in his throat. The sound vibrated down her body to her thighs. Megan traced his ear with her tongue, then bit its lobe. Ean’s lips traveled farther down her neck. He licked her collarbone and Megan shivered from the inside out.
She tipped back her head and breathed slowly. Megan dragged her fingers across the vast expanse of his shoulders. Her nipples tightened as his heat burned her through his black jersey. She followed the rigid line of his spine, until she found the waistband of his khakis. She needed to feel his skin against hers, nothing in between them.
Megan tugged Ean’s jersey from his pants and slipped her palms up his back. His muscles quivered beneath her touch. Her mouth went dry. Memories of last night made her damp and hot.
Ean swept her into his arms. Megan’s eyes popped open as he carried her to the sofa in two long strides.
She looked up at his sharp, tense features. “I could have walked.”
His gaze scorched her. “This was faster.”
Ean toed off his shoes and lowered her to her feet. Megan stopped him before he moved them to the sofa. Wordlessly, she helped him pull off his jersey. The sight of his bare burnt sienna chest made her swallow. She trailed her fingers through the light layer of crisp hairs that covered his pecs and led into his waistband. Holding his gaze, Megan tugged off his belt and popped open the button of his pants.
Ean lay on the sofa, luring her down on top of him. Megan didn’t take much coaxing. She was so hot—she could have burned to ashes. He drew her head down to his. Megan parted her lips for their kiss . . . but a deeper shadow on the beige carpet in front of the mahogany coffee table snatched her attention.
She pulled away from Ean. “What’s that?” A warning stirred in the back of her mind.
“What?” Ean sounded as though he was still in the moment.
Megan stretched down to rescue the flimsy, see-through material. She straddled Ean as she held the bit of cloth in front of her. Megan had never seen the bra before, but she knew instantly to whom it belonged. Ean’s expression of surprised dismay confirmed her fears.
“How could you?” Megan hadn’t felt so inadequate since she’d been fourteen and had opened her bedroom door to find Ean and Ramona kissing in the hallway. She struggled to get away from him.
Ean clamped a hand on her left leg. “Megan, wait a—”
“Don’t touch me.” She snarled like a wounded wild animal and flung Ramona’s bra in his face. Ean dropped his hand and she scrambled off him.
Ean rose to his feet beside her. “Megan, will you please wait a minute?”
She spun toward him. “You knew I didn’t want to get involved with you until you broke up with Ramona.”
“We have broken up.”
“Really?” She snatched Ramona’s bra from the carpet and shook it under his nose. “Then whose bra is this, and how did it end up beside the very same sofa on which we were making love?”
Ean cupped her fist. “I didn’t invite her here. I didn’t invite her to take off her clothes, either.”
“Oh, my God.” Megan wrenched her hand free. She spun on her heel and marched to the coat closet near the front door.
Ean followed her. “Megan, nothing happened.”
“Oh, I’m sure.” Megan closed her eyes and shook her head to rid her brain of the image of that bit-of-nothing black bra. “My cousin came to your townhome, took off her clothes in front of you, re-dressed, then left—without anything happening. But somehow she left her bra behind, right next to your sofa.” She yanked open the closet door, shrugged into her coat and snatched her purse. “That sort of thing happens to everyone. All the time.”
Ean pressed the heel of his right hand against his front door seconds before Megan tugged on its doorknob. “I’m telling you the truth.”
Megan stared at his large hand pressing against the door above her head. If only Ramona had kept her clothes on, Ean’s hand could have been on her, instead. It still could, a voice whispered in her ear.
“Let me out.”
A beat of silence passed before Ean dropped his hand. Megan pulled the door open, then shut it quietly behind her. She glanced down at herself to make sure her clothes were in order. That’s when she realized she still clutched her cousin’s bra. Megan jammed the underwear into her black handbag.
She strode to her Honda Accord, parked in front of Ean’s town house. Megan strapped herself into the driver’s seat and pulled away from Ean’s home. She knew someone who was missing the bra’s support. But she would wait until she’d calmed down before returning the lingerie to its rightful owner.