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Worth the Fall(41)

By:Claudia Connor


Jack looked up, fighting to control his trembling lip. “Even when you’re being a soldier?”

The knot around his heart tightened. No. He wouldn’t always answer and Jack was smart enough to know it. “It might take me a few days, but yes. Even then.” Matt pulled him in for a hug, and when Jack gripped his neck so hard his little arms shook, he closed his eyes and fought the burn of tears.

“Jack.” Abby spoke softly from the door. “You ready for bed?”

Jack slowly released Matt’s neck and stepped back.

“Keep your head down.” Matt’s voice sounded thick and scratchy to his own ears. He stood, squeezed Jack’s shoulder, and walked to the sliding glass doors. How the hell did men do this? This wasn’t even his family and it was tearing his heart out. He stared at the dark night, replaying every minute of the past week, until he saw Abby’s reflection in the glass.

“He asleep?”

“Almost.”

Matt didn’t turn around, because when he did there would only be one thing left to say. He watched her raise her hand to touch his back then drop it to her side. So brave and independent, so capable, yet small and fragile. When he couldn’t put it off any longer, he turned to face her.

She bit her lip, seeming as much at a loss for words as he was. Her eyes flicked around the room before finding his. “Thank you for dinner.”

“You’re welcome.” He wished one of them could say something, anything, that would ease the churning he felt in his gut. She’d been wrong. There were things to say. He just didn’t know what they were. Or maybe he did and he just couldn’t say them.

“I better go. You’ve got a long drive tomorrow.”

She rubbed at the faint line on her finger. “Yeah.”

He followed her to the door. “You sure you don’t need anything taken to the car?”

“I’m sure. It’s mostly done.”

He nodded, opened the door, and they both stepped out. Was there really nothing left to say? There was something between them and they both knew it. Were they really just going to walk away from it without a word?

“Thank you. For everything. I…” She dropped her gaze to his shirt before raising her eyes back to his. “You know, I haven’t heard them laugh so much since…probably ever. It was good for them. You were good.” She smiled, a disappointing fraction of what he usually got and her eyes slid away from his. “Anyway, they were happy this week, so thank you.”

“And what about you, Abby? Were you happy?”

She looked up at him, eyes glistening sadly. “Yes. I was happy.”

He wanted to point out the key word there: was. But what good would it do to force her to admit she was hurting as much as he was? That she wanted him as much as he wanted her?

She rose onto her tiptoes, placed a chaste kiss on his cheek, and stepped back. His fingers curled to keep from touching her.

Shit. “You have my number.” The words came out hard, his fisted hands clenched at his sides. “Let me know you made it home.”

She gave a jerky nod.

“Okay, then.” He looked long and hard at her one last time and walked away.

He was three strides gone, his toes a centimeter from making the turn to the elevator, when he froze. No.

No way in hell was he leaving like this.

He spun around, covered the ground between them, and said her name all at the same time. “Abby.”

Her back was to him, her hand on the doorknob, but she turned at the sound of his voice. Was that relief in her eyes? He didn’t wait to find out. He held her face in his hands and took what he’d wanted for so long.

The kiss didn’t start slow but burst like a sudden storm, hot and needy. Tongues meeting, his fingers tight in her hair. Everything he’d held in check all week pouring out.

Her hands came up, holding tightly to his forearms. He angled her head and kissed her harder, deeper. She softened and opened to him, moaned into his mouth, the vibration running through his entire body, burning him, making him more desperate for her. He feasted on her mouth as her hands moved to his chest, her delicate fingers fisting in the fabric of his shirt.

She was killing him. Her taste. Her smell. Knowing this was all he could have. One hand came up to tangle in her hair. The other skimmed down the velvet skin of her back until he felt the edge of her panties through the thin fabric. He moved lower, squeezed, and she responded by pulling at his hair and kissing him back with the same intensity.

Her body was soft and giving like he knew she would be. And he needed more. More time. Less clothes. His mouth on her breast, slowly working its way down her body.

He had to pull back.