Miranda grabbed a pair of pajamas from the dresser drawer and slammed it shut. Red. The color of her pajamas. The color of anger.
She tore her clothes off and threw them in the hamper. Why did he have to kiss her? More so, why did she have to like it? She finished donning her nightclothes and jumped into bed.
The covers twisted and bunched as she tossed and turned, unable to sleep. Her mind raced with thoughts of Drew, replaying their kiss over and over again. Replaying their interlude from several nights ago, as well.
What gave him the right to insert himself in her life? To try to sweet-talk his way back into her good graces and get her to trust him again? And then, to talk about love. To act as if they could just pick up where they left off seven years ago. She wasn't falling for it. She would never believe that he had changed.
Of course, there was always the slight possibility that he had. He was permanently moving back into town. And, he was spending a lot of time with Tommy. He had even somehow managed to mend and resurrect his friendship with Jordan, and that couldn't have been an easy task. And that kiss—that last kiss had been hot enough to melt even the coldest of hearts. She had felt that one all the way down to her toes. God, but that man could kiss.
"Damn you, Drew Elliott," she muttered. She sat up, untwisting the sheets for the third time, then fell back onto her pillows. She'd probably made a mistake the other night by going to bed with him. He had a way of convincing her that everything would be all right. That it was the right thing to do.
It sure had felt right, though. Her body tingled just thinking of the things he had done to her. And flushed at the thought of what she had done to him. It wasn't as if she'd had a lot of partners over the years—or any. She'd forgotten how good he could make her feel. Powerful. Beautiful. Like nothing else mattered in the entire world but the two of them. No one else had ever made her feel like that and she wanted to feel that way again.
Why did he have to be the one? Why couldn't it have been Jordan or one of her clients or even the mailman, for God's sake? Anyone but him. Anyone but Drew Elliott. The man of her dreams. The man of her nightmares. The man she couldn't stop thinking about.
Well, he wasn't going to get away with it. She jumped out of bed and tossed the covers on the floor. For once, he was going to listen to her. She would make him understand exactly how she felt about him and that she meant it when she told him to leave her alone.
Part of her knew what she was truly up to. Even as her feet hit the floor, and her hands opened the door. Even as she catapulted down the hallway toward Drew's bedroom, part of her knew she was going there for much more than conversation. Even as she planned her scathing reprimands. Even as she mentally rehearsed the stern speech she would deliver, her body buzzed and tingled at the thought of his hands upon her skin and his kiss on her lips. Her brain may have invented an excuse to see him, but her heart knew the real reason all along.
Drew finished gulping the final remnants of beer number six. He thought it would have been enough to get her off his mind, but so far, he'd had little success. He was prepared to be patient if he had to be, but this hot and cold game of hers was wearing on his nerves. One minute she was jumping into bed with him, and the next she was shooting him down.
Well, she wasn't going to get away with it, just like that. He knew he'd been wrong. Had treated her horribly. But a man shouldn't have to pay for his mistakes forever, should he?
He tossed the empty bottle into the trash and bounded to his bedroom door. She was going to listen, damn it. Tonight. She was going to hear him out. If she didn't like what he had to say, he'd have to respect that. He loved her more than anything, but he wasn't going to play games. Not anymore. She had to make a decision.
∞ ∞ ∞
Drew opened the door, just as Miranda rounded the corner. She stopped, inches from him, her chest heaving with what she told herself was fury. He opened his mouth, looking as if he were about to speak, but she threw herself into his arms, and pulled him in for a frantic kiss, instead. He made a low guttural sound, and pulled her into his bedroom, the door slamming shut behind them.
The first time was quick and needy. There was nothing gentle about their lovemaking now. She stood, against the door, cool wood on her back, Drew's searing hands tearing at the filmy fabric of her nightgown. Their kisses were urgent and demanding, tongues probing, teeth scraping against lips. He cupped her breast and when his thumb brushed across its peak, sensitive nerves sent her body arching instinctively toward his. Her hands dipped below his rock-hard chest to the waistband of his jeans, but he brushed them away.
"Not yet," he said, somewhere between a growl and supplication. "Not until I know you want me. Not until you scream my name."
She wanted to protest that she'd screamed his name in anger plenty of times—he just hadn't been around to hear it—but it was impossible to speak when her breath was coming in such ragged gasps. Little sounds of pleasure rumbled in her throat as his fingers pushed aside the flimsy lace of her panties to the moist flesh beneath. She felt herself melting around him, as his breathing quickened, and her muscles instinctively contracted. She writhed in pleasure, every touch bringing her ever closer to release.
"Now, Drew. Please," she whispered, reaching for his waistband again, but he still wouldn't allow it.
"Please, what?" His voice was husky. Low. Demanding.
He was going to make her say it. It didn't matter that she had come to him. It wasn't enough that even now she was mentally chastising herself for her actions, while her body betrayed her with its overwhelming response to his touch. There were so many things she could say. So many things she wanted to say. Please. Please go away and let me get back to my life. Please stop haunting my every waking moment and invading my dreams. Please find a way to turn back the years and make it so you never left. Above all, please find a way to make me trust you again.
Instead, she reared up and pulled him in close, wrapping her legs tightly around his waist. She took advantage of his surprise and unfastened his waistband, sliding both jeans and boxers down in one fell swoop. She smiled at his sharp intake of breath when she finally grasped hold of him.
She leaned forward, whispering into his ear. "Please," she said, nipping at his earlobe, his whole body shuddering at her touch.
He made a feral sound and plunged inside of her. Her body shook, and the door rattled. She should have been worried about the noise, but she didn't care. She should have been angry with herself for letting it get this far, but she was well beyond that point now. All that mattered was this act, this moment. Being here with the only man she had ever loved.
Release came quickly for both of them. Drew leaned forward, still inside of her, forehead resting against hers. She could feel his heart, beating against her like a drum. Suddenly, his whole body began to shake, and she realized he was laughing.
She pushed his chest away from her, legs firmly wrapped around his waist. "What is so damn funny?" She started to disentangle her body from his, but he stopped her.
"I'm sorry," he said. "This isn't how I thought it would be, that's all."
"Oh." She looked at him, not exactly sure what to say. She hadn't planned on it being any way at all. Still, it had turned out pretty good. There might even be some more exploring to do. She traced the outline of his jaw with her finger and leaned in to kiss him. Such a strong jaw. Such a handsome face. "Why don't you show me what you had in mind, then?"
Without breaking their connection, he turned and lowered them to his bed. This time, when he kissed her, it was long and slow and sweet. Her mind wandered to a happier time with Drew when she never doubted him, always loved him, and would probably have gambled her life on his loyalty and his love for her. She realized with heartbreaking clarity how much she missed the girl she had once been. How much she missed him. And, because she could never go back, because time would never be able to erase her pain and bring back that girl and that boy that she longed for, she didn't answer when he told her he loved her. Instead, when he covered both of her hands with his and took her with him over their final peak, she kissed him with all the love and tenderness she had inside of her, and didn't say a word as a tear, unnoticed by Drew, ran silently down her cheek.
∞ ∞ ∞
Miranda waited until she thought Drew was asleep before trying to make her way back to her bedroom. As usual, she underestimated him.
"Where are you going?" He pulled her back onto his chest, before she could make her way out of bed.
She sat up and smiled, brushing his hand back onto the mattress. "It's almost five o'clock in the morning, Drew. I have to get back into bed before Tommy wakes up."
"You are in bed," he said, trying to pull her back down again.
"I mean my bed, Drew." She got up and began to put her nightgown back on, what was left of it anyway. "He'll be worried if he can't find me when he wakes up."
"Then, I'll come with you."
"I don't think so." She gave him an exasperated look. "C'mon, Drew. I don't want Tommy to see that, either."
"Why not? Would it be such a bad thing for the kid to see his mom and dad in bed together?"
"It would, because it might give him the wrong idea." She frowned when she saw Drew's face fall in disappointment. She knew staying most of the night had probably not been the right thing to do. She didn't want to give Drew the wrong impression. Now that he had brought it up, it was best just to be honest with him.
"Look Drew," she said, "I don't think either one of us knows where this is going. The point is, until I'm sure, I just don't want to broadcast it. Especially to Tommy." She looked at him intently, willing him to understand. "Please, Drew. I need to know you're with me on this."
"Okay," he said. His eyes told her that he wanted to say no. That he wanted to tell the entire world how much he loved her. But, for now, he seemed willing to give her what she wanted. "I'll keep it between us."
"Thank you."
He smiled, that familiar sarcastic lilt at the corners. "Though with all the noise we made last night, I wouldn't be surprised if someone brought it up at dinner this afternoon."
Sunday dinner. She'd completely forgotten. She had hoped to have the day apart from him. Time to collect her thoughts, maybe plan an acceptable exit strategy. What was she going to do now?
"Maybe you could tell them you were moving furniture, or something," she said, only half-joking. What if someone had heard them? How mortifying.
She managed to slip back into her own bed without anyone seeing her. A quick glance at her alarm clock told her she still had a couple of hours before Tommy would be awake. Only a few hours after that before she would have to go to the kitchen and help prepare dinner. Facing Drew. Facing the mistake that had seemed all too right in the middle of the night.