Wrong, wrong, wrong, he reminded himself. He needed to be in control if he was going to survive the night.
He walked to the pedestal sink, turned on the cold water and splashed his face with it over and over again until he had restored control.
Drying his face and hands with one of the very feminine towels, he then folded it neatly and laid it on the rack to dry.
When he walked back into her bedroom, her door was closed and the room was dimly lit by one small lamp on a nightstand by the bed. Macy was on top of the covers, fully clothed, her back turned toward the bathroom.
He wrung his hands nervously, then wiped them up and down on his jeans before taking a stutter step toward the bed.
She turned at the sound he made, leaned back on one hand as he approached. Her brown-eyed gaze looked him up and down, hesitant but hungry as he stopped at the edge of the bed.
“Are you sure?” he asked.
“I don’t want to be alone tonight. I haven’t been alone in this house since…”
“Tim died?”
Shaking her head vehemently, she said, “I bought this house and everything in it a couple of years after Tim died. T.J. and I…we needed a change. There were just too many sad memories at the old place.”
Relief washed over him then. Relief that he wouldn’t be lying in another man’s bed. Beside another man’s memories.
He sat on the edge of the bed and pulled off his boots. Tossed them aside and they landed with a thud on the polished hard wood floor.
Facing her, he copied her pose, leaning back on one hand as he considered her. “It must have been hard for you.”
She lay down on her back and nodded. “I didn’t want to believe it at first—that Tim was really going to die. Since we found out that he…”
She shuddered and closed her eyes before shifting to grab the crocheted throw at the foot of the bed. She pulled it up around her, as if she was cold.
It tugged at him with the vulnerability it exposed and he shifted quickly, moving to her side and embracing her. Bringing her to rest beside him as he stroked his hand up and down her side, trying to soothe her.
“I know I said I was sorry at his funeral, but—”
She slipped her hand over his mouth. “Can we talk about something else?”
He frowned, confused until she said, “Could we talk about you? Why you chose the Army?”
He wanted to say “Because of you” but bit the words back. He had already been considering the Army before what had happened with her. What had happened with her had only cemented the decision he had already been about to make.
“My dad did a great job of giving Jericho and me stability after Mom left and I needed that after high school. Community college just wasn’t doing it for me. I needed more.”
“And the Army gave you that?” She cradled his cheek and stroked her thumb across the roughness of his afternoon beard.
He nodded, but it seemed to not be enough for her.
“Did you ever miss Esperanza while you were gone?”
He should have lied. It would have made things that much easier, but he was a man of honor and couldn’t lie to her.
“I missed home more than I thought I would.”
Macy told herself not to read anything into his words. “Jericho and your dad miss you a lot. They worry about you. So do a lot of people in town—you’re our hero.”
He smiled tightly, clearly uncomfortable with the praise. “I’m just doing my job.”
“A job that could get you killed.” She shifted her hand down to rest on the hard muscles of his chest. Beneath her palm his heart beat strongly. Steadily, much like the man beside her.
He covered her hand with his, his palm rough on the back of hers. The thin white line of a scar marred one knuckle and another larger one was close to his wrist. The hand of a warrior.
“Almost more than anything, I want you to be safe and to be happy,” she said, finally admitting to what had been in her heart for far too long.
“Almost more? Can I guess that what you want even more is to see T.J. safe and happy,” he questioned, tenderly rubbing his hand back and forth against hers.
“Definitely.”
He slipped his hand from hers and slid it into the short waves of her hair, softly cupping her head. “And what about you?”
“Me?” she asked, slightly befuddled until she met his brilliant green-eyed gaze and his meaning was clear. “What do I want?” she asked, just to be sure.
“Yes, what do you want for yourself?” he said, leaving no room for doubt about the answer he expected from her.
What did she want that was only for herself? she wondered, but then the answer came too swiftly to be denied any longer.
“I want you.”
A tremor rocked through the hand in her hair and beside her his body tensed.
“Macy,” he said, his tone low and tinged with an odd combination of exasperation and need. He rolled onto his back, breaking contact with her.
She raised herself up on one elbow. “You were right when you said that I wanted you back in high school and that I want you now, but you know what else?”
He looked away, unable to meet her probing gaze as he asked, “What?”
“Want without love is empty. That’s what I realized back in high school. That’s why I married Tim,” she finally confessed, thinking that he deserved a complete explanation after so many years.
The pain in his heart was almost more than he could bear and so strong that he wanted to lash out at her. Before he could control himself, he had flipped and pinned her to the mattress, his body holding her down while he held her hands above her head.
“You never even gave me a chance to prove to you it was more,” he said, his breath ragged in his chest from his distress.
“No, I didn’t and that was wrong. I should have given you a chance, especially when I found out I was pregnant with T.J., only…”
“Only what, damn it! I deserve an answer as to why you kept my son from me for his entire life,” he barked out.
“I was afraid of what I felt for you. I was afraid that if I gave you my heart, you’d break it when you left.” Tears shimmered in her eyes, but she battled them back, biting her lower lip in a gesture that was all too telling and all too tempting.
He slowly loosened his grip on her hands and bent his head, bringing his lips to a hair’s breadth from hers. “Maybe if you had asked, I wouldn’t have left,” he said and then closed the distance between them and kissed her. Put all of his heart and soul and eighteen years of frustration into showing her just what might have been between them.
The shock of his kiss, filled with such need and yearning, overcame any doubts Macy might have had about whether it was right to explore this. She opened her mouth to his and pressed her body upward, meeting the hardness of his muscled physique. The short strands of his dark hair were soft against her hands as she held his head to her, urging him on.
Over and over they kissed until they were both trembling. Until it wasn’t enough and she lifted her hips against the press of his erection, so full and hard against her belly.
She shuddered and between her legs, her muscles clenched