The Call of Bravery - Page 99

Reason was barely a murmur, almost drowned out by driving lust, but he made himself listen. This wasn’t all he wanted. He had to talk to her, find out whether there was the slightest chance she could imagine committing herself to him despite everything she knew about him.

Reason might not be loud enough to stop him, but a serious case of nerves had him gradually gentling the embrace, softly kissing her jaw and nuzzling her neck as he loosened his grip on the curve of her buttock, kneaded the small of her back. God, he loved that spot, where the fragile string of vertebrae met the flare of her ass.

He sucked in a breath. Talk. They had to talk. He might yet be turning around and walking back to his car, driving away, heading for the airport.

“I should have let you know I was coming.”

She nuzzled his neck. “Are you in town because of the case? Or to see Duncan?”

“No.” He brought his hands to her upper arms, squeezed and said, “I’m here to see you.”

She went very still, like a wild animal caught in the open.

“You,” he repeated.

“Walker and Brendan—”

“No.”

He couldn’t tell if she said “Oh” or only exhaled.

“Can we, uh, sit down?”

“Yes, of course.”

Her head turned toward the Adirondack chairs, but he said, “How about right here? I don’t want to let go of you.”

This time her “Oh” was distinct.

They sat. He held her hand; interlaced their fingers so they were palm to palm. He’d never noticed before how sensitive the palm of his hand was.

The night was awfully quiet. He discovered he was next thing to panicked. Give him a drug raid any day. At least he’d have a weapon in his hand, be wearing a Kevlar vest for protection. With Lia, he had nothing.

He gulped. “I want what I had here with you.”

Her lashes fluttered as if she’d blinked a couple times in quick succession. Startled at his eloquence, no doubt, he thought grimly. He could do better than that. He had to do better than that.

“You know what I am,” Conall said. “I’ve told you more about myself than I’ve ever told anyone.”

He’d give anything to know what she was thinking. Her eyes were huge and dark, her lips slightly parted as she gazed at him.

“You said something once. That you thought I had it in me to be a better man.”

She shook her head and his heart quit beating. But she told him, “I never said that. I wouldn’t have. I said there’s more to you than you believed. That all the business about you being incapable of being a good father or husband was nonsense. Do you know how much those two boys love you?”

“I love them, too.” It was the first time in his life he’d ever said the word aloud with him as the context. He listened to himself with amazement and thought, That wasn’t so bad. Yeah, okay, then do it. Big breath. “I fell in love with you, Lia.” It sounded raw and awkward to his ears. “And, uh…” His hand tightened unconsciously on hers. “I had to tell you that in person. And find out whether you think you can feel anything for me.”

God. He’d gotten it all out, but now he was in freefall. Parachute, you can open any time. Any minute. Like now.

Her mouth was trembling. Lia lifted her free hand to it, pressed her fingertips to her lips. She was making some strange little sounds, like whimpers. And then he saw that her eyes were wet, about to overflow.

“I’m sorry,” he said on a groan. “I shouldn’t have done it like this. You don’t have to feel bad—”

“I love you so much. I never thought—” She laughed, but she was crying, too. “Oh, Conall.” She dove at him and buried her face in the crook of his neck.

He held her fiercely, his cheek against her head, his eyes closed tight. They were burning. He didn’t even know what he felt, it was such a tangle. But it was good, so good. And it hurt like hell, too. He’d cried that day he had to say goodbye to her and the boys, and he was about to cry now, too. Why was happiness as agonizing as grief? Conall didn’t know, but he wanted more of this anyway.

He rocked her, the way she’d rocked Sorrel that day on this same porch, and it seemed to work because the tension gradually eased from her body and his, too. She wiped her cheeks on his shirt, sniffled, laughed again and pulled back a few inches so she could see him.

Tags: Janice Kay Johnson Billionaire Romance
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