Worth the Fall(42)

He released her hair and cupped her cheek.

He touched his lips to hers, gently this time—once, then again. When he leaned back, her face was tilted up, her eyes closed. She truly did look like an angel. His thumb traced along the soft line of her brows, over her cheekbones, soaking her in. Committing every detail to memory.

Her eyes blinked open, slightly unfocused. She stood absolutely still, like she wasn’t sure what had just happened. Cheeks flushed, hair mussed, lips wet and shiny.

He started to speak but no sound came out. He kissed her one last time, slow and lingering, trying desperately to tell her with a kiss everything he couldn’t say, before letting her go.

Clearing his throat, he tried again. “I’ll wait for you to lock the door.”

She didn’t move, had no idea how close he was to stripping her down and carrying her through that door.

“Abby. Go inside.”

The harshness in his voice got her moving. He watched the door close behind her, listened for that final click.

Five minutes later Matt walked away from the best thing that had ever happened to him.





Chapter 13


Abby had half expected to see Matt waiting outside her door when she’d left that morning. Then she’d envisioned him leaning against the wall when the elevator opened to the lobby. She spent most of the six-hour drive convincing herself she wasn’t disappointed. Fighting the bite of loneliness that hadn’t been there before the beach. Before Matt.

The tree-lined highway stretched in front of her, a Disney movie mesmerized the children, and her mind ran wild. Like horses breaking away from a wagon, they picked up memories as they picked up speed, pulling her along whether she wanted them to or not.

Matt’s voice, as warm and rich as his chocolate eyes. Everything about you interests me. Her name on his lips—Abby. And the kiss.

Heat flooded her.

Firm lips on hers, big hands roaming her body as he devoured her. She’d felt his strength, the desperation in his touch, when he’d clutched her hair in his fist. And she’d let him, encouraged him.

Her hands tightened on the steering wheel and she licked her lips, imagining she could still taste him.

She’d never known a kiss could do that. So hot something inside her had melted. Was it possible a person could be the same after a kiss like that? She turned up the air-conditioning in the car. If he hadn’t pulled back, she might have opened the door behind her, taken him to her bed. And that would have been a huge mistake, even if she had wanted more.

Memories of that kiss would have to last her a lifetime. But if any kiss could go the distance, it was that one. If any man could affect her over the miles and years to come, it was Matt. The way he’d looked at her, like he wanted her, like it was killing him to walk away. But he had.

She should consider herself lucky. Her heart would be bruised, but she’d gotten away just in the nick of time, just before she got so close that being without him would make her bleed.

After five stops—two for food and three for the bathroom—they reached their home in Raleigh. Abby brought in the last bag from the car and dropped it from her exhausted arms. The kids had helped unload until their help became more of a hindrance and she’d sent them upstairs to play. She had maybe twelve minutes before all hell broke loose.

Her phone rang as she carried a load to her bedroom. Of course Angie would call to check on her. She hit the button. “Yes, Mom, I made it home.”

“Is that what you’re calling me now?”

Her bags fell to the bathroom floor and she froze at the sound of Matt’s voice.

“I guess you made it home.”

She tried desperately to still the fluttering inside her enough to answer. “I did. Yes. Make it home.” The disjointed thoughts pouring from her head and out her mouth sounded like Tarzan. Me in bathroom. Matt on phone.

“The kids make the trip okay?”

His voice sounded deeper over the phone, and so close. If she closed her eyes and blocked out the post-vacation disaster all over the floor, she was right back at the beach. Back with this man she never thought she’d talk to again.

“Uh, yeah. They were fine. I’m sorry I didn’t call. I started unloading the car and…I forgot.” And she’d never thought in a million years he actually meant for her to call him when he’d made the passing comment. They’d said goodbye. That was supposed to be the end.

“You sound tired.”

She was, but this wasn’t tired. This was her having no idea what to say. “I’m fine.”

His soft laugh blew through the phone line, brushing over her body like his gentle touch. “Good night, Abby. I’ll call you tomorrow.”