“I don’t want to go either.” He brushed his fingertips over the curve of her earlobe, before pulling his hand away with obvious regret. “But you mean too much to me, Lola. I can’t risk screwing things up with you. Not again.”
Though it nearly killed her not to make love with him—she’d never wanted anyone this badly, not even close—at the same time she was amazed that he cared so much about her. None of the other men she’d ever been with would have put her first the way Duncan always did.
“We don’t have to go to bed together. We can—” She had to wrack her brain to think of anything other than tearing his clothes off. “—watch a movie cuddled up on the couch, and then…” She made herself say the rest, even though it was the last thing her body wanted. “We’ll go to sleep in separate beds.”
Together, they put his shirt back on. At least hers weren’t the only hands shaking. Duncan looked as close to the edge as she felt. His eyes were burning with desire, his mouth constantly returning to hers. Between stolen kisses they cleaned up dinner, topped up their glasses of wine, then settled on the couch in front of the TV, pulling a blanket over their laps.
That was when it occurred to her that she’d never done this with any man, never simply cuddled, never knew the pleasure of having strong arms holding her tight without it being a prelude to sex. Because even though she and Duncan were both dying to rip each other’s clothes off, it was a revelation to know that they could relax together as friends too.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
He didn’t ask what she was thanking him for, simply drew her more deeply into his arms. “I’d do anything for you, Lola. Anything and everything.”
* * *
Lola was smiling as she slept in his arms, and Duncan hoped she was dreaming of him.
He would happily have remained on the couch with her while the movie played on low volume in the background, their bodies intertwined beneath the blanket as the stars twinkled through the windows. But when she shifted and made a little groaning sound, he lifted her into his arms to take her to her bedroom so that she could sleep more comfortably.
She didn’t wake up until he laid her on her bed. Her eyes fluttered open. “Duncan?”
Hearing her say his name in that husky, sleepy whisper tempted him to sink into the bed beside her and finally give in to desire. But he’d meant it when he said he couldn’t risk losing her again. Especially when it had been only a handful of hours since he’d admitted the full truth of his past to her—and she’d done the same with him. Of course she’d need time to process what she’d learned. Time to decide whether she could risk trusting him again. Loving him again.
“Yes, it’s me,” he replied, barely above a whisper. “Once I get you into bed, I’ll find my own.”
“Stay,” she said. “I want you here, in my bed.”
He would have given anything to be able to stay with her. But he couldn’t trust himself to just hold her tight all night long. Not when he knew that the first time they shared a bed, there wouldn’t be any sleeping.
So, though it was one of the hardest things he’d ever done, even harder than hitting the Pause button earlier that evening, he stroked her hair and said, “I’ll stay until you fall asleep.”
Though she tried to fight her exhaustion, the difficult past few days had taken enough of a toll that she soon gave in to the need to sleep.
* * *
Lola woke to a pitch-black sky outside her bedroom window. Instantly, she remembered that Duncan was in her cottage. She wanted to throw the covers off and dash into the guest bedroom to find out if he was lying awake thinking of her the way she was thinking of him—and if every inch of him burned with need for her the way every inch of her burned with need for him.
But he was right that even being 99.9 percent sure about trusting him wasn’t enough. Truly loving someone meant unconditional trust, and when she could look past her intense desire for him, she knew that she had that last bit of a percentage point to go.
For the first time in her life, there was a chance for a relationship to be perfectly right in a way nothing else had ever been. She’d never regret anything more than moving too fast just to scratch an itch.
If and when she and Duncan finally came together, it wouldn’t simply be to satiate their need for hot, sweaty sex. It would be to declare themselves to each other in every way—body, heart, and soul.
Which meant that when she threw off the covers, rather than heading for the guest bedroom, she went to stand under the icy-cold spray of the shower until her skin felt like it had turned to ice.
* * *
Duncan heard the shower go on and grabbed his cell phone to look at the time. Four a.m.
He’d gotten sleep in bits and pieces over the last few hours, but mostly he had been kept awake by thoughts of Lola, barely a wall away. He desperately wanted to taste her and touch her and make love to her. But he also craved more of those beautiful moments when they were simply talking or holding each other.
He didn’t have to wonder why she was showering in the middle of the night. Nor did he have to guess that she was likely standing under freezing-cold water. He’d done the exact same thing a few hours earlier.
If only he could stop the visions of water flowing over her naked skin and incredible curves, soap bubbles moving slowly across the very surface that he wanted to kiss and caress.
Duncan dropped to the floor beside the bed and launched into rigorous sets of push-ups and sit-ups. But though he worked up a sweat, he made no progress in purging the sexy visions from his mind.
Truth was, he’d never be able to do that. Not when he wanted Lola Sullivan in every way—her laugher, her bright outlook, and her lush curves.
All he could do, as night slowly turned to day, was hope and pray that nothing else would happen to ruin their chance at a beautiful future together.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Morning dawned bright and beautiful, and though Lola had been up half the night longing for Duncan, she bounded out of the bedroom and into the kitchen.
He looked absolutely gorgeous there, making coffee, and she didn’t hesitate to move into his open arms. She might not be completely sure yet, but she was so close that she refused to deny either of them this delicious closeness.
Mmmm, his strong arms around her felt so good. Loving the steady beat of his heart against hers, she nuzzled his neck and breathed him in. She could hold on to him like this forever, just never let go and be perfectly happy.
Soon, his mouth found hers, and just as it had last night, passion leaped between them. By the time they finally dragged themselves away from each other, she was amazed they’d not only managed to keep their clothes on, but also hadn’t just christened her kitchen island with their lovemaking.
One day soon, would they be able to love each other with wild abandon and nothing between them except love and trust and faith and joy? No darkness, no half-truths about their pasts, no more trying to portray themselves as anything other than who they were?
Standing with Duncan as sunlight streamed over them, Lola had never wanted anything so badly in all her life.
“Since you made dinner last night,” she said, “I’ll make breakfast. What would you like?” It was a little weird to feel so close to him, yet not know whether he was a cereal eater, preferred a toasted bagel, or couldn’t face more than a cup of black coffee in the morning.