Her fingers stilled. Was that Charlie’s voice? What was the child doing in her R-rated—soon to be X-rated—dream? A moment later she heard his voice again, more insistent this time.
Though every fiber of her being longed to ride this dream through to completion, Meg reluctantly opened her eyes…and found herself face-to-face with Cole Lassiter.
Cole knew he should have pushed Meg away when she’d first snuggled up against him. But they were alone—Charlie had long since gotten up and headed into the living room to watch cartoons—and she’d looked so beautiful lying there, that he couldn’t resist. He’d wrapped his arm around her, his heart experiencing a tug of déjà vu in the process.
When she kissed his neck, he somehow found the words to ask if she was sure. Sure she knew what she was doing. Sure this was really a road she wanted to go down. Her answer had been to twine her hands around his neck and lift her lips to his.
From the shock in her eyes now, she obviously was having second thoughts about that decision.
Cole rolled off of her, sensing by the murderous look on her face that being tossed to the floor was a distinct possibility. Only when he was flat on his back did he realize they weren’t alone. Charlie stood at the foot of the bed.
“My daddy used to kiss my mommy like that,” the boy said in a pleased tone. Charlie cocked his head and rocked back on the heels of his cowboy boots. “Can I have a soda?”
“Sure.” Meg’s voice sounded strangled. “Just make sure not to spill.”
“’Kay.” The boy tossed the word over his shoulder as he raced from the room.
Charlie had barely disappeared from sight when Meg punched Cole in the shoulder.
“What did you think you were doing?” she sputtered. “Kissing me like that?”
“You started it.” Cole pushed himself to a sitting position, his jeans tight enough to strangle, his heart pounding an irregular rhythm. His head may have gotten the message the fun was over, but his body definitely hadn’t.
“What do you mean I started it?” She sat up, her hair a tangled mass of auburn curls.
“Charlie left to watch cartoons. I was lying here, minding my own business, trying to decide if I should get up, when you kissed my neck.” Even as his body responded to her touch, he’d told himself to push her away.
But then he’d taken a deep breath and his good intentions had been lost. Her perfume, a light floral fragrance, reminded him of spring. And of the good times they’d once shared.
“I was sleeping,” Meg asserted, color high in her cheeks. “I didn’t know what I was doing.”
He snorted. Granted, she’d kept her eyes closed, but she’d been awake enough to respond to his question.
“I asked if you thought this was wise,” he said, meeting her gaze head-on. “You responded by kissing me.”
She opened her mouth then shut it. After a long moment her lips turned up in a rueful smile. “Okay, I admit it. I was a willing participant in the madness.”
“You were?” His voice rose.
“I thought I was dreaming.” She pushed her hair back from her face with one hand. “But that doesn’t change the fact that I wanted to kiss you. If Charlie hadn’t come in, I probably would have gone a lot further.”
For a second he wondered if she was playing with him. Until he remembered her fingers on his zipper. His body stirred in response. “Seriously?”
The pink in her cheeks deepened and she shrugged. “What can I say? It’s that same crazy physical attraction that brought us together way back when.”
Cole pushed on his bad leg—hard—and the sharp stab of pain told him he wasn’t dreaming. But he had to be. It made no sense that Meg would confess her, well, her lust for him.
“You feel it, too. Don’t bother to deny it.” Meg’s gaze dropped to just below his belt buckle. “I’m a medical professional. I recognize the signs.”
His maleness surged as her gaze lingered.
“I have no intention of denying it,” he said in a gravelly voice.
From the moment she’d shown up on his radar screen, he’d wanted her with an intensity he couldn’t explain. She’d been standing by her locker in the old high school, baggy gold sweater, modest plaid skirt showing off long shapely legs, auburn curls spilling down her back.
Jackson Hole High wasn’t that big of a school. Even though he and Margaret didn’t run in the same social circle, he’d known she was Travis Fisher’s sister, the oldest girl in a family of eight. President of the science club. Honor Society member. Unlike most of her female classmates, she was a girl who appeared to prefer the brainy geeks in her accelerated classes to football stars.
Usually when he saw her, she had guys like Ed Rice, class valedictorian, hanging around. But this time she’d been alone.
“Large breasts.” Meg pointed a thumb to her chest. “That’s why you liked me.”
Her words brought Cole back to the present with a jolt. He could tell her there had been lots of girls back then with big boobs, er, breasts. She’d been different. But what would be the point?
“There’s nothing wrong with physical attraction,” he said. “That’s the only reason you agreed to take that walk with me.”
Even as the words left his lips, he hesitated. Meg hadn’t been a football groupie. If she was, she’d have talked about things that interested him, instead of English literature.
The second they’d begun strolling through the Elk Refuge, she’d launched into a discussion of the books they’d read in class. Or rather, ones he should have read. Any knowledge he had of the novels had been based entirely on tidbits gleaned from class discussion. Or the movie version he’d rented from the video store.
She’d obviously been nervous, searching for common ground. Yet all her chatter did was to emphasize the differences between them. Surprisingly the attraction remained.
“I wanted to kiss you,” she admitted.
“The physical pull was strong.”
“Though I liked the kissing,” she said slowly as if choosing her words carefully, “I thought our relationship went beyond the physical.”
He’d thought there was more to it, too. When he told her he loved her, he’d meant it.
Cole wasn’t quite sure why she was acting as if she’d cared for him back then. Thanks to her good friend Ed Rice, he knew what she’d really thought of him. Intellectually, Cole had been judged and found wanting.
“I had no complaints with the sex,” he said, swinging his legs to the side of the bed.
What puzzled him most was how he could still desire someone who had no respect for him.
“Why did you quit calling? Was there another girl? You could have simply told me if there was someone else. I know all the girls liked you.”
Uh-oh. Cole recognized the rapid speech and run-together sentences. Though Meg wasn’t normally a big talker, the floodgates had been opened and he was going to get an earful.
“Even Janae.” Meg gave a humorless laugh at his startled look. “Yep, my best friend had it bad for you. She never admitted it, at least not to me, but I could tell.”
Janae. She was bringing up Janae? And here he’d thought the conversation couldn’t get any worse.