Loving You Read online

  When the paper was pulled off, despite the yards of tape, Tasha smiled at him again. “I love it. Sleepless in Seattle is my favorite movie.”

  “I know.” His proud grin widened. “And the DVD has lots of neat stuff on it, too.” He promptly snatched the movie from her, flipped it over, and started reading aloud the list of extras. Tasha just watched him. Her gaze etched his face, this moment, into her mind. Dozens of years from today, she would be able to pull this memory from her mind and relive it all. The scents, the sound of his voice, and the solid warmth of him pressed against her. Tears filled her eyes and she blinked them back. She didn’t want anything to dim this moment.

  “And there’s something else, too,” he said when he’d finished reading. Reaching into his pocket, he took out another small package, wrapped just as artistically as the first.

  “Jonas,” she said, taking it from him, “you didn’t have to get me two presents.”

  “Yeah, but it’s fun that I did, huh?” He grinned and swung his hair back from his eyes.

  His delight shone from those dark brown eyes and Tasha felt warmed through by his love. This child of her heart meant more to her than her own life, and the thought of losing him was almost more than she could bear.

  “Open it.”

  “Okay,” she said, sniffing. Once the paper was gone, she held a tiny bottle of cologne, and without even opening it, she knew what it would be. Jonas’s favorite. Orange blossom. She twisted the cap free, tipped some cologne onto her fingertip, then patted the inside of her wrist. Holding it up for him, she asked, “Well?”

  He smiled again. “Smells good.”

  “This is wonderful, Jonas. Thank you so much.”

  He shrugged and eased off the bed. “’Sokay. You were surprised, huh?”

  “You bet,” she said, holding her gifts tightly to her. “You did good.”

  “Yeah, I know.” Then he stopped grinning and pulled something else from his pocket. “Oh, and Nick wanted me to give you this.”

  “Nick?” Pleasure shifted into something else. Something she didn’t want to pin a name on. “When did he give you this?”

  “On Sunday when we went shopping.”

  A tiny envelope, it was the kind of thing people usually enclosed with gifts. When she opened it, she saw a plain yellow gift card. But inside, it read, Happy birthday, Tasha, you and Jonas be ready at seven. Love, Nick.

  She warily looked at the boy in front of her. “Ready for what?”

  “We’re going out to dinner,” he said, and started for the door. “Nick said to tell you not Taco Bell but not Four Seasons, either.”

  “Nick said? What else did Nick say?”

  “Gotta go catch the bus, Tash!” Jonas yelled as he left the room and hit the stairs running. “Happy birthday!”

  Dinner? With Nick?

  Tasha fell back against the pillows and stared blindly at the sun-washed ceiling. She told herself that the racing of her heart meant nothing. But even she wasn’t buying it.

  * * *

  Nick was as eager as he’d been on his first date. Hell. More eager. That first date had been with Stevie. Someone he’d already known for years. There had been a comfort zone on that maiden voyage that was missing now. With Tasha, there was no comfort zone. Only the sizzle of electrical charges that zapped him whenever he was near her. And that sizzle kept bringing him back again and again. But it was more than sexual heat drawing him to her. There was something about Tasha that reached into all of the dark, lonely places inside him. Those corners of his heart and soul where old dreams died and new dreams began.

  “And damn, I’m getting philosophical in my old age,” he murmured. “Who would have believed it?”

  He steered the SUV he’d borrowed from Paul for the night into Tasha’s driveway and turned off the engine. Almost instantly his cell phone rang. “Yeah?”

  “Nick, it’s Tony.”

  “Hey, big brother. What’s up?”

  “Wanted to let you know … Coach McIntyre is in the hospital.”

  “What?” Nick’s high school football coach had always seemed invincible to him. A big, burly man with a booming voice, Coach “Mac” had been at Chandler High for nearly thirty years.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Heart attack,” Tony said. “Mild, but still…”

  “Yeah.” Was this the end of an era? Nick wondered.

  “Anyway,” Tony went on, “his wife called my office, said Coach wanted to talk to you.”

  “Me?”

  “Yep.”

  “Why?”

  “Dunno,” Tony said. “Guess you’ll have to go to the hospital and find out.”

  “Right.” Nick hung up and promised himself he’d do just that—in the morning. But now there was Jonas and Tasha and … that sizzle.

  * * *

  By the end of the evening, Tasha felt as though every nerve in her body was standing at attention, screaming. Every square inch of her skin felt electrified, as if she’d stuck her finger in a light switch. Even the air around her hummed with excitement. Expectation.

  They’d enjoyed a wonderful dinner at Masiello’s, a lovely Italian restaurant on the Coast Highway, just outside Chandler. After leaving the restaurant, they’d walked along the harbor, watching the lights on the fishing boats sparkle like diamonds on the water’s black surface.

  Romantic?

  Not with Jonas there, to dangle off the edge of the boat dock trying to catch the silvery fish darting just out of reach. But it was still … magical, Tasha thought, her heart filling with emotions rich and deep.

  Just yesterday, she’d actually considered seducing Nick for Jonas’s sake. She’d thought about surrendering her virginity, the one thing she’d been able to hold on to during her life on the streets, in the name of saving her family. But she knew she never would have been able to do it. Not even for Jonas could she have set aside her own hard-won self-respect.

  But tonight, standing beside Nick in the soft fog-shrouded light, she realized it wasn’t about seduction. It was about love.

  She was in love with Nick Candellano.

  Shock rippled through her.

  Nick took her hand in his as they continued on the boardwalk lining the harbor. Tasha hugged her new discovery close and felt the warmth of his touch right down to her bones. When he smiled at her, the impact of it dropped on her like a stone.

  “Did I tell you,” he asked, “that you look gorgeous?”

  “I think you might have mentioned it.” At least five times since the moment she’d opened the front door to him. One look at his reaction to her had assured Tasha that it had been worth the two hours she’d spent getting ready.

  “Good,” Nick said, and reached to smooth his fingertips along her jaw. “Because…” His gaze dropped, admiring her again as he took in the short, flippy black skirt and the deep V neckline of her long-sleeved black lace blouse. “Really,” he said. “Beautiful.”

  Her stomach took a slow slide toward heaven. “Thanks.”

  His hand tightened on hers. On the waterfront, wooden boats in their slips creaked and rocked gently in the water, as if soothing babies to sleep. Lights shone from some of the cabins, and shadows moved past the curtained windows. Running lights on the boats farther out in the bay winked on and off as the encroaching fog misted and cleared around them.

  “You grew up here, didn’t you?” Tasha asked while keeping a sharp eye on Jonas, now chucking rocks into the water.

  “In Chandler, yeah,” Nick said.

  “Must’ve been nice.” She tipped her face into the wind, tasting the salt in the crisp air, feeling the mist brush against her skin with a chill kiss.

  “Where’re you from?”

  She stiffened, but Nick’s thumb began to stroke the inside of her palm.

  Tasha blew out a breath. “Chicago. But that was a long time ago.”

  “Not so long. Not if it can still haunt your eyes.”

  “It doesn’t.”

  “Y
eah, it does,” Nick said softly.

  She looked up at him. The three-inch heels she wore put them a lot closer in height. Close enough that his mouth looked far too tempting. “Not all of us grew up in la-la land, Nick,” she said, and tried to pull free.

  He wouldn’t let her go. And instead of rising to her bait, he only smiled. “La-la land, huh? My dad used to work down here sometimes, on the harbor.” Nick tucked her arm through his and kept walking, holding her close to his side. He could feel the rapid beat of her pulse like a jackhammer through her rib cage. “We did, too, in the summer, my brothers and me, I mean. And that’s one nasty job, swabbing down the decks of fishing boats. ’Course, Carla had to work at home, for Mama. I think we got the better end of that deal.”

  She gave him a half-smile, setting off sparks inside him.

  “No la-la, then?”

  “Not so you’d notice.” But it had been good, he told himself. A great place to grow up. Something he doubted she’d ever known, and a part of him wished she would trust him enough to tell him more about the past that was still chasing her.

  “Hey, Nick!”

  He stopped dead and shifted a look toward the boat on his left. A tall man, long wild hair shining silver in the weird half-light, shoved up from the cabin hatch and waved a hand.

  “Antonio!” Nick called, grinning. “How’s the catch coming this season?”

  “Pretty good. I could use another deckhand!”

  Nick laughed and pulled Tasha even closer. “No thanks. But I’ll tell Paul.”

  “Ha!” The big man laughed loud enough to startle a sleeping pelican off its perch. The bird lumbered into the air, then spread wide wings and skimmed the surface of the water, looking for a late-night snack.

  Nick lifted a hand and kept walking. He hadn’t been down here in too long. And seeing it now with Tasha and Jonas was … nice. Pitifully small word for what he was feeling.

  “Do you know everybody around here?”

  “Just about.” He gave her a brief half-smile, then let his gaze settle on her mouth. “You know, I’ve been thinking about kissing you since the minute you opened your door tonight.”

  She inhaled slowly, deeply, and he watched the swell of her breasts with interest.

  “I’ve been thinking about that, too,” she admitted.

  “How about we do less thinking and more doing?” Nick pulled her into the circle of his arms just as an icy breeze kicked up off the water.

  “Uh … what about Jonas?”

  “Right.” Nick’s gaze moved over her face like a touch. “Jonas. Couldn’t we just send him fishing with Antonio?”

  Tasha laughed and the sound of it rose up into the night air and settled back down on him like a promise. “I don’t think so,” she said.

  “Yeah.…” Nick groaned as he said it and readied himself for another long night of aching.

  They walked again, a few more steps. Jonas stayed far ahead of them, inspecting every inch of the dock and the harbor with the curiosity only an eleven-year-old boy possessed.

  “But,” Tasha said softly, “he goes to bed early.”

  Nick stopped dead and looked down at her. Everything in him went still. Moonlight peeked around the edges of a silver-rimmed cloud and dusted the harbor with a silvery light. Nearby, one of the fog lamp streetlights glowed a hazy yellow. The soft light seemed almost ghostly, as if it were trying to wrap them together in a golden haze.

  “He does, huh?” Nick studied her eyes. The eyes that had been haunting his dreams for weeks. He didn’t want any mistakes here. If she was saying what he was hoping she was saying …

  Tasha took another deep breath and nodded. “After that big dinner and all this fresh air, he should be pretty tired by the time we get home. Probably fall asleep soon.”

  “Wow.” Nick nodded, sliding one hand up to caress the line of her throat. “Then for his sake, we’d better get going, huh?”

  Her eyes closed briefly with his touch. “Yes,” she said, her voice a whisper of longing, “he must be exhausted. I know I can’t wait to go to bed.”

  “Right.” Nick smiled, bent down, and gave her a brief, hard kiss. “Right.” Turning, he shouted, “Jonas! Time to go!”

  CHAPTER 18

  Two hours later, Tasha was a woman on the edge. Nick was due back at the house any minute and she was doing some serious rethinking.

  Mistake, she thought, pacing through the dark, quiet house. Mistake that hadn’t happened yet, she reminded herself. She could still chicken out. She could still lock the door and refuse to answer when Nick showed up.

  But her heart ached at the thought of not being with him. She loved him. “Oh God, how can I love him? I can’t. He’s the enemy, for Pete’s sake. Loving him only complicates everything.”

  But that didn’t seem to matter.

  Mouth dry, she tried to swallow and couldn’t. God, it was like having a mouthful of dust. Something to drink, she told herself, and headed for the kitchen. Barefoot, her steps were soundless against the cold wood floors. She needed that chill, though, to balance the heat bubbling in her veins.

  She opened the fridge and grabbed a bottle of Chardonnay. Wine. Good idea. She closed the fridge by bumping it with her hip. Then she reached down two wineglasses from a nearby cabinet before heading out to the dining room again.

  In the dark, moonlight danced through the room, creating patches of shadows and light. Tasha poured herself a half-glass of the crisp white wine and downed it in a few long swallows. The resulting heat in the pit of her stomach felt good, so she poured herself another, then carried it with her to the window.

  She stared up at the black sky, dotted with fast-moving clouds that sailed past clusters of stars like sailboats on an endless sea. Trying to look beyond the stars, she whispered, “Mimi, am I doing the right thing? Is this only going to make things worse?” In the following silence, she could almost hear Mimi. Relax, Tasha. Enjoy life. Live it so you die with no regrets.

  And maybe Mimi was right. Maybe the way to look at this was that even if Nick disappeared from her life once the DNA test results were in … at least she would have this one night. She would have given her virginity to the man she loved.

  Oh God.

  She took a sip of wine, concentrating on the smooth taste and letting it soften the rough edges inside. Nerves skittered into life in the pit of her stomach, and Tasha drew one deep breath after another in a vain attempt to ease them. Nothing was going to calm her down. Not while she knew that Nick was on his way here to … Okay, thinking about that was not going to help.

  Upstairs, Jonas was sound asleep. Tasha smiled to herself. He’d been known to sleep through 6.0 earthquakes, so she knew he wouldn’t wake up when Nick arrived. When Nick … stayed. Oh God. She took another drink, and warmth swirled in the pit of her stomach. Good. That was good.

  Of course, her brain was beginning to feel a little fuzzy, but who needed a brain, right?

  Headlights.

  “Oh God.” Twin white lights sliced through the blackness. As the car pulled into the driveway, the headlights slashed across the dining room window and she felt like the proverbial deer … “He’s here.” She shook her head. “Just who the hell are you warning?” she muttered.

  Still clutching her wine, Tasha moved through the shadow-filled house toward the front door. She opened it and stepped onto the porch in time to meet Nick, coming up the front walk. He’d changed clothes. The sport coat was gone, replaced by a dark red sweater over a pair of faded Levi’s that made his legs look impossibly long.

  She took another sip of wine.

  Nick stared up at her from the bottom of the steps, and his throat closed. Hunger roared inside him with the ferocity of storm surf crashing against the shore. In the indistinct moonlight she looked otherworldly. Her flame red hair looked dark in the shadows. She still wore that black skirt and the low-cut black lace blouse. But she’d removed her shoes and black nylons. Barefoot, her skin was creamy, pale in the moonlight, and her
ankle bracelet and toe ring reflected the light with tiny winks.

  He wanted her more than he’d ever wanted anything in his life.

  Taking the steps slowly, he stopped on the porch, less than an arm’s reach from her. “Is he asleep?” he asked, and she heard the tightness in his voice.

  “Yeah.”

  His gaze dropped to the glass in her hand. “Wine, huh?”

  She inhaled sharply. “I was a little…”

  “Nervous?”

  “Okay.”

  He took the glass from her and downed what was left of the wine in one long gulp. “Good.” Then he set the empty glass down on the porch railing and stepped closer to her.

  “Nick…”

  “Dance with me,” he said, sliding his right arm around her waist while catching her right hand in his left.

  “What?” Her breath dusted the base of his neck and its warmth shattered inside him.

  He held her close, pressing the length of her body along his. For two hours, he’d been thinking of nothing but throwing her onto a bed and burying himself deep within her. And now that he was here, he wanted to simply hold her. To feel her body along his. To relish the press of her nipples against his chest. To slide his hand up and down her spine. “Dance with me. Here. In the moonlight.”

  He moved and she followed, swaying against him even as she said, “There’s no music.”

  “Oh, there’s music,” he assured her. “You just have to listen for it.”

  He rested his cheek on top of her head and inhaled the light flowery scent of her. Orange blossoms. She smelled of springtime and promises.

  Her steps mirrored his as they moved quietly in the darkness. The old porch creaked beneath them as the soft breeze caught a wind chime somewhere in the yard.

  His hand slid down her spine, to the curve of her bottom, and she took a sharp breath. Nick’s heart raced and his blood pumped with a fury that nearly choked him with need. But he refused to give in to it. He wanted these moments. These quiet, romantic moments with her in his arms and the silent shadow-filled night all around them.