When the sun’s last glow disappeared, Connor watched the town begin to sparkle with lights. Not bright like Las Vegas must be. Not breathtaking like New York City. But welcoming, like nowhere else but his town.
“It looks like a toy village set up on a velvet board.” Jillian leaned her head on his shoulder. Something he was growing quite fond of her doing.
“It’s beautiful at Christmas,” he said, knowing she would be long gone before summer, much less December. “Ribbons of lights string across Main, and lots of people trim their homes in twinkling lights. From here it looks like the whole town is sparkling red and green.”
“I won’t...”
He ended the conversation with a quick, firm kiss, wanting to taste her before words came between them.
When he pulled away, he sounded harder than he meant to. “Let’s not talk about your going. I know you’ll leave. You told me from the start, but for now could we just pretend that you belong here? I think I’d rather take the jolt of your leaving all at once and not in tiny pricks.”
“All right.” Her voice sounded flat but her hands fisted around the material on the front of his shirt as if she didn’t plan to let go of him.
Maybe she wanted to pretend, too, or for once she just didn’t want to talk about it. He didn’t care. He knew what he wanted. He wanted to imagine three months was a lifetime.
He touched her lips softly in apology, as his thoughts seemed to slip out. “You’re here, with me, until you leave. You’re here.” His arm tightened around her waist, telling her the here was with him.
“I’m here,” she answered as her mouth opened to his kiss.
He couldn’t believe how completely he could lose himself in one woman. It had never happened before. She felt right in his arms. He didn’t know when or where they’d make love, but he knew they would and whether they did it one time or every night while she was with him, Connor knew that he’d fall asleep for the rest of his life holding her in his dreams.
Knowing that every touch was both a beginning and an ending made the moment so much sweeter. She melted against him and still his hands moved over her, pressing her closer. He wanted to memorize every curve of her, the way she smelled and how she liked to be kissed, what made her laugh and the taste of her tears. He wanted to know it all so he’d remember.
The night darkened, traffic on the other side of the bridge slowed, the wind began to rage, but he barely noticed. She was here now. She was with him.
Maybe, as rational adults, they should talk about the way they felt, but for now all he wanted was to feel. To live in the moment without the shadow of loss hanging over him.
When they finally climbed down from the roof, they had to move in total darkness through the old factory. Laughing. Touching. Bumping into one another.
Once in the truck, she slid over close to him, seeming to need him as near as possible.
After one kiss so hot he felt like it fried several brain cells, he grinned. “Did you ever do it in a pickup?”
“No. And we’re not doing it now.” She laughed, teasing him as she pressed against him. “How would it look? The mayor spotted making out in his pickup. Sheriff Daily would lock you up.”
“I don’t really care,” he admitted.
“Well, I do. I don’t go all the way on a first date.”
“This is a date, then?”
“It almost was.” She kissed his nose. “I almost asked you out. You almost fed me dinner. I think a crow carried off my hamburger while we were watching the sunset.”
“Hungry?”
“Starving.”
“Where to now?” She was threading her fingers through the back of his hair. He had trouble forming words, much less telling directions. Everyone in his house would probably be asleep by now. No one would notice when he came in.
She scraped her nails along his scalp, then curled her fingers in his hair and pulled him to her for one last kiss before she whispered, “We’re going to your house. I’d like to check on Gram and then raid your fridge. We can’t stay lost forever.”
He groaned. She was right, of course. It was time he got back, but part of him wished all clocks, all problems, all responsibility would stop for a few hours.
Slowly, she pulled a few inches away. He started the truck, then rested a hand on her leg, fearing she might slip farther away. They drove back across the bridge.
A few minutes later there were so many cars parked around his house Connor had to pull to the curb three houses down. As they walked slowly to the two-story home he’d owned since Sunnie was born, he finally felt in control of his emotions.
This time they had spent together, alone, had changed them. He knew it and more important, he knew she knew it. They were no longer polite strangers. No longer flirting. No longer guessing how the other felt.
In the shadows of evergreens on the edge of his property line, he stopped. Looking down at Jillian for a moment, he wished he could see her eyes as he admitted, “It wasn’t enough tonight.”
She stood so still he wasn’t sure she heard him.
Then, she added, “I agree.” Her hand reached out to stroke his arm as though she had to feel him near. “It was perfect, but it wasn’t enough.”
He fought to keep from closing the few inches separating her from him. “When we go inside, I won’t touch you. I may not even look at you, but I’ll be thinking about what happened on the roof. We’re not two kids playing around. I think after thirty-seven years I’ve finally found my addiction. It’s you, Jillian.”
He wasn’t courting her or seducing her. She wasn’t flirting or manipulating him. This was no game they were playing.
Finally, she met his eyes. “When we go inside, stay a room away from me because if you don’t I may shock the ladies of the quilting circle.”
He laughed. “I’m tempted to test that theory.”
She straightened, her hands locked together in front of her. “Thank you for the date, Connor. I had a nice time.”
Slowly, they moved into the glow of the porch light. As they paused he said, keeping his voice neutral, “It was nice getting to know you better.” In the shadows behind them, his hand slid along her thigh. “I love the feel of you so near, Jillian. It’s like I’ve found something I’d missed all my life and didn’t know it until the moment I touched you.”
“Me, too,” she answered as she stepped onto the side porch that led to a brightly lit kitchen window.
Every part of him wanted to remain in the shadows with her, near her, touching her, but their private evening was over. Reason told him the quilters had stayed too late and he needed to go in and break up the party.
Before he could tease her more with their well-bred conversation and bold brushes, Connor joined her on the porch. The newly constructed ramp made it necessary that they brushed shoulders while walking.
His gaze caught movement by the door. A shadowy figure almost like the one he’d seen in the alley of the district. Only this one was huddled, hiding between two wooden rockers.
For a moment, he stepped to shield her from danger. Then his eyes adjusted to the night enough to see. It wasn’t a man curled and ready to strike, but a boy huddled in pain beside the kitchen door. Hiding. Or trying to.
Connor took a step backward, his logical mind trying to find reason.
Jillian spotted the crumpled form. A heartbeat later she was running forward.
“He’s hurt,” she cried as she lifted the boy’s face in both her hands.
Connor knelt beside her. “Reese?” He turned a bloody face toward the light and recognized the kid whose father did all the handiwork around town. “Reese, what happened?”