Teague(19)

Her pulse still pounded hard. He liked that.

"We'll take this slow. You say when. We don't have to have sex tonight. We don't have to do anything that you don't want to do."

She gazed past him, up at her dark cottage. "Could we just sleep together?" Her eyes shot back to his. Anxious. Luminous. "Without the sex? I'm sure that sounds weird, but I … "

He watched her intently, liking the play of shadow on her delicate features. Liking the heartbreaking honesty. "It doesn't sound weird."

She stared at him for a long time, saying nothing, her hands tracing the scars that dimpled his shoulder.

"I miss being held," she whispered, her words tumbling from her. "I miss the warmth of another body beside me. I miss knowing I'm not alone. Even if it's just for a night, that would be so … nice."

Something twisted inside Teague. It was hot and hard and painful. It was the realization that this woman was as scarred as he was.

"Then I'll hold you until morning," he replied, moving out of the water with Sabrina still in his arms. She didn't utter another word when he turned toward his place. And when she rested her head on his chest, he felt something he'd not felt in a long, long time.

Contentment.

Teague was more than content to spend the night out under the stars with this woman doing nothing more than holding her in his arms-no making out and no sex. He had an erection to end all erections and he was so goddamn hot and tight he knew, there wouldn't be any sleep for him.

And yet he was fine with all of that. Him. Teague Simon. The selfish bastard who'd never put a woman ahead of his own needs before.

What. The. Hell.





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Chapter Fourteen

Sabrina woke up with a crook in her neck and the sun shining in her face. For a moment she had no idea where she was and it was only when she rolled over that she realized she was on a deck, wrapped in a blanket.

She took a second to relax, her brain still more than a little fuzzy, and closed her eyes, enjoying the peace of the early morning. It had been ages since she'd fallen asleep outside and she'd forgotten how much she enjoyed-                       
       
           



       

With a start, she bolted upright and rolled all the way out of the gray and white blanket, pushing a big tangle of hair from her eyes.

"Shit," she whispered.

This wasn't her blanket and this sure as hell wasn't her deck.

Sabrina got to her feet just as a bundle of fur came flying around the corner. Bingo barreled toward her and nearly had her on her ass, but she recovered in time to scoop up the squirmy puppy.

"How did you … "

But she never got the chance to finish her sentence because Teague strolled onto the deck-his deck-wearing nothing but an old faded pair of cargo shorts that sat dangerously low on his hips.

She knew he had nothing on underneath. You know. On account of the dangerously low situation.

A sudden image of Teague in the water wearing his boxers flashed before her eyes and she buried her head in the puppy's neck. He'd looked like a Greek god the night before and Lord knows she'd had a good look-more than one if she was being honest.

She hoped like hell Teague couldn't see the flush that crept up her neck.

"Louise didn't come home last night, so I let Bingo out. I figured the little guy needed to pee."

"Oh," she said softly. "Thank you."

Bingo licked her chin enthusiastically and then wiggled until she had to let the dog back down. Crossing her arms over her chest, she looked at Teague from beneath her lashes.

Everything from the night before came back and she swallowed thickly, wishing the floorboards would open up and swallow her whole. Oh god. He'd practically seen her naked. Hell, she was still practically naked. She was dressed in her pajamas with no bra and no undies.

"I made coffee," he said, walking toward her. Teague stopped an inch or so away but she couldn't look up. How could she? Her eyes were glued to his rock hard abs. Abs that she'd touched. Abs that she'd slid up against.

And she'd done all of that while she was practically naked. Ugh.

He cupped her chin and she gulped, pushing back the golf ball-sized lump that sat at the back of her throat.

"Bree," he said quietly. "It's just coffee. Nothing more."

Bree.

Bingo barked and pawed at the patio door but they both ignored the dog.

"Sabrina?"

"I … " But she was stuck.

"Did I do something?"

"No. I haven't been called Bree in a long time," she said, eyes drawn back to his intense gaze.

He was silent for a few seconds. "Do you want me to stop?"

Did she? She shook her head and whispered. "No."

Teague's fingers trailed down her cheek and over her collarbone. "I don't want to make you uncomfortable, so if I'm overstepping tell me. Last night was nice. Hell, last night was more than nice. I liked having you here."

His eyes darkened and she shivered.

"I liked watching you sleep." A soft smile played around the corner of his mouth. "You make these sounds."

"Sounds?" Oh God. Had she snored? "I'm almost afraid to ask."

He leaned in close, so close that his warm breath fell over her skin. "From the back of your throat. It's sexy as hell."

"Oh." Cheeks pinker than ever, she didn't know what to say.

"So how about that coffee?" he asked, his hand finally sliding away from her collarbone. And that was a good thing, because it was hard for Sabrina to think straight when he was touching her.

"I think coffee sounds good," she said carefully, taking a step back.

"Double cream and sugar?" he asked, heading to the glass doors and finally letting Bingo inside.

"How did you … "

"I'm a navy man, remember? I pay attention."

With that he disappeared inside the house, her traitor dog barking like crazy when he did. Still feeling more than a little weird about being on Teague's deck in nothing more than her pajamas, Sabrina leaned on the railing and gazed out across the water.

There were already boats dotting the large lake and she watched a couple jet skiers fly over the water.

"They must feel so free," she murmured, smiling as the woman squealed when she hit her partner's wake.

"Have you ever been on a jet ski?" Teague handed her a large mug.

"No," she said. "I'm sure you've figured out I'm not a water person. We just have the boat."

The two of them sipped their coffees for a few minutes and then Teague set his cup down on the ledge, resting his elbows there as he leaned forward.

"So what's your story?"

The question was from left field and it took a bit for Sabrina's fuzzy brain to focus and even longer for her to get the words out.                       
       
           



       

"My story?"

He nodded. "Everyone's got a story. What's yours? Where do you come from?"

Her story wasn't exactly unicorns and rainbows. "There's nothing much to tell. I've lived here since I was a kid. I met Brent when his family bought their cottage and he started spending summers here. We got engaged when I was barely twenty and married the next year." She thought back to that time, her mind turning pages of memories.

Walks in the park with her husband.

Dinners at the Irish pub down the street from their townhouse.

Thirty-six hours of labor before she delivered her twins.

Louise and Brent cheering her on the entire time.

"I went to school to be a nurse but quit when I had the babies."

"And your parents?"

Yes. Then there was that. "My mother died when I was nine." Eyes on the water, she tried to ignore the man watching her so intently. "She was in a car accident. The roads were bad and she hit a patch of black ice."

"I'm sorry."

"That's when we moved here. I have no idea why my dad chose Gravenhurst because we'd never been out of the city. But living in a house of memories wasn't something he could do." She paused, voice a little shaky. "He loved it up here and he did manage to find some kind of happiness."

"That's good," Teague said quietly.

"It was good for a while. He died a month before my wedding. He was out in the garden trimming his rose bushes and had a heart attack. I found him, but it was too late. By the time we got him to the hospital, he was gone."

"Jesus," Teague said roughly, pushing off from the ledge and facing her.

Things she didn't like to think about-things she'd tucked away into the small dark corners of her soul-were suddenly filling her head.

"I walked myself down the aisle." Sabrina's eyes slammed shut as the pain of her loss hit her squarely in the chest. "I couldn't bear the thought of anyone but my dad on my arm, so I...I did it on my own."

"Oh Bree, you've been through a lot for someone so young."

His voice was gentle and she nearly cried out when he touched her arm. He took her coffee mug and set it down before folding her into his arms.

She needed this. His touch. His smell. Or maybe it was just the idea of him. Of a man holding her and taking some of that burden.