She shook her head mutely. She’d stopped swinging, and the swing slowly stilled as she stared at him. He moved over to the swing, not meaning to touch her, but his leg brushed up against her thigh. She shivered, glancing down at their legs and then up again at his face. She bit her lip, and for a moment it was all he could do to keep from taking her by the shoulders and drawing her to him.
He inhaled. “I didn’t think so. Your sister was so competitive. Fran hated to think I wasn’t attracted to her. She tried everything to get me interested—or so I thought. Then she pretended to be you. I never understood why, but she got me drunk and I don’t remember everything. She filled me in on the details afterward.” He paused, hoping she wouldn’t ask for particulars. He stood and walked the length of the porch, pivoted, facing her once more. He inhaled. “She threatened to tell your father. I panicked and believed you’d never talk to me again. So I stayed away. Fran grew bored and saw that you didn’t seem to care about our relationship. I guess she didn’t think it was fun anymore after that.” He stopped and watched her. Claire remained motionless in the swing, her arms wrapped around her stomach.
“Why didn’t you just tell me? I would have believed you. I saw you two together, and yes, it was odd the way you both acted. I chalked it up to me being less than objective. But I don’t think we can make Fran out to be such a monster. She was popular and most of the guys at school wanted to date her.”
“That’s not why most of the guys wanted to date her. Don’t be so naive. She ran around. She’d laid most of the guys at school by the time she left this town. That’s probably why she never wanted to come back. Once people call you a slut—”
She bolted out of the swing and then slapped him across the face. He caught her arm, but seeing the tears well in her eyes his heart broke apart.
“Be quiet. That’s not true.”
He would not let her go this time. “Don’t.” He pulled her body closer to him.
“Let me go. I don’t want to hear anymore. Why are you doing this?”
“Because I’m not going to let my one chance at setting things right go wrong. If Fran comes back, do you honestly think things will go smoothly? I’d rather you know the truth and then maybe we could start fresh. You and me. I won’t allow our second chance to be ruined.”
“I think you’ve taken care of that.” She was shaking, and he was falling, no longer capable of resisting the urge to feel her lips. He’d wanted her for so long. He released her arm and took a step, closed the distance between them. He encircled her waist with his hands.
“Have I?” He looked down into her eyes, now bright aqua pools. Her lashes were long and spiky from tears.
He ran his hand up her waist, over her shoulder, and pulled her close. He was almost a head taller than her, and he tucked her head under his chin. He felt her body tremble. He kissed her temple and inhaled the scent of her hair.
“Dustin?” She lifted her face and tentatively brushed her hands across his arms. She touched his shoulders softly.
He caressed her jaw with his thumb. “My God, Claire. I’m—”
She pressed a finger against his lips. “Shh.” When she bit her bottom lip, he was a goner.
He backed her up to his front door, covered her body with his, and pressed his hips into her. He held her wrists, wanting to pin her so he could savor her softness.
“I’ve wanted you for as long as I can remember.” If he opened the door, he was very certain what he’d do. He wanted to shed his clothes and undress her in the ways he’d imagined. He wanted to kiss every inch of her skin, taste her, and possess her as he’d fantasized a hundred times.
He kissed the inch of skin pulsing at the base of her throat. His cock throbbed inside his shorts. Despite releasing some of the tension earlier in his room, he was ready to explode.
“Claire, do you want to come into the house?”
A buzzing vibration came from her pocket. She looked down. “My phone.” She retrieved her cell, and he stepped away from her. He held onto the post at the corner of the porch. His body was on full overdrive, another second and he might lose control. He closed his eyes and took a breath.
“I’ve got to go.” Claire’s voice hitched.
He glanced back at Claire; her lips were pursed.
“Is everything OK?”
“No, there’s a problem.” She was still looking at the cell phone screen. “It’s my editor’s assistant. They didn’t receive my piece. I’ve got a deadline.” She looked up, her face was flushed and her hair had come undone, the blond locks spreading over her shoulders. He wanted to throw her damned cell phone as far as he could manage.