Coach Love(59)

She broke away and touched his rough jaw. “Take me home, Kent. Make love to me.”

Tucking her under his arm, he guided her to the passenger’s side of the car. She crooked her finger at him once she took her seat, so he crouched down to be on her level, his warm, familiar palm on her leg. “I need you to convince me that it is me you want.”

“Then tell me you don’t love him anymore,” he insisted, pressing down hard on her leg. “It’s only fair. We confess now, let them both go.”

Ready to let it fly that the two men in question were closer than he realized, she chewed her lip, trying to find words for such an impossible coincidence. The expression on his face betrayed him. He already knew that Paul must be Dominic, and had realized it that night at the fish fry.

She focused on his hand, memorizing its contours, pictured it wearing the platinum band they’d picked out and now sat nestled in a jeweler’s box on her dresser. She threaded her fingers in his, pulled them to her lips, kissing each of his knuckles.

“I love you, Kent. Only you. I want this. I want us.”

He nodded curtly, and drove them home in silence. Later, she lay in his arms, her body sated, her heart calm accepting her choice.





Chapter Twenty





Kieran pocketed the impressive wad of cash with a sigh and rubbed the bridge of his nose, taking in the sights and sounds of the strip club after hours. Girls counted out singles on the bar, the cleaning crew mopped the floor. The house lights threw an unflattering glow onto pretty much everything. He waved to the room in general, noting that Dom was still tucked into a corner with Jackie before shouldering his way out into the humid night.

His car sat in the middle of a bunch of empty parking spots. The lights flickered as he shuffled across the cracked asphalt. His mind blank, his chest full of something he couldn’t identify, he blew out a breath and stopped short when he spotted Melinda leaning against his driver’s side door.

“Can I buy you a cup of coffee?”

“Sure.” He reached behind her. But she moved sideways, blocking his way, filling his senses with her overpowering presence. “I’m not in the mood, Melinda.”

“You are something very...special.” She pressed her lips to his.

After a few seconds, she broke the contact then walked around to the passenger’s side and climbed in. He stood a minute, tingling from head to toe, Cara’s face imprinted on his retinas, the memory sensation of her skin burning his palms.

They rode a few miles to an all-night diner in silence. After ordering coffee and a slice of apple pie to share, they sat in total silence. When it arrived, Melinda sipped as he ate. The quiet unnerved him but he figured she’d get around to talking soon enough. She always did.

“I’m moving,” she said, finally putting her half-empty cup on the cracked Formica. “I’d like you to come with me. But I have a feeling you won’t.”

“You gonna eat any of this,” he asked, indicating the decimated pie between them. She shook her head, her eyes swimming with tears. Not for the first time, Kieran thanked his early training not to be cowed or much affected by them. He scraped the last of the apples off the plate, put them in his mouth, chewed and swallowed while pondering his answer. A large part of him experienced a skin-crawling panic over the concept that she’d actually leave. Another part heaved a huge sigh of relief.

“Where?” he asked for lack of anything better to say.

“Nashville. The firm wants me to establish their new office there. Everything from locating the real estate to hiring secretaries.” She dabbed at her face and held his gaze. The skin-crawling-scared part of him was losing the mental arm-wrestling match.

“Congratulations, Melinda. That’s really great.”

“You won’t leave here will you?”

Forcing his inner relieved-she’d-decided-to-move-on guy to pin the scared loser-guy’s arm to the imaginary table, he set his jaw. “No, I won’t. I don’t love you, Melinda. It’s probably a good thing we figured that now instead of wasting everyone’s time with a wedding.”

She continued studying him in that clinical way she had. “Yes, you’re probably right about that.” She smiled. He smiled then jumped when her toes teased his thigh under the table. “You are so amazing, Kieran. Really. I...I think I do love you.”

Briefly considering the advisability of a farewell roll in the sack, he decided against it and pushed her foot off his lap.

“No, you don’t. I was some kind of a project for you.” He waved to the waitress, wanting nothing more than to celebrate a final break from this crazy woman with a solid eight hours of sleep.