Adding Up to Marriage (15 page)

“Why's Jewel crying?” she heard Ollie ask, worried. But when she tried to pull away, Silas held fast.

“She's just having a sad,” Silas said over her head, and then both little boys wrapped their arms around her legs and hugged her, too. Tad even patted her butt—since he couldn't really reach her back—and told her it would be okay, making her softly laugh…making her yearn for far more than…the other thing.

So it was with profound relief that, right before she served dinner, Patrice called—Abby Iglesias's water had broken ten days early. With any luck, she thought as she kissed the boys goodnight, assiduously avoiding eye contact with their father, it would be hours and hours before the baby came and Silas would have been asleep for hours and hours by the time she got back.

Except, when she let her still-andrenalized self into the house sometime after two in the morning, the flickering light from the TV pulled her into the living room. His hands laced behind his head, Silas sat on the sofa in his robe and PJ bottoms, watching a movie. Despite the chill in the house, the robe gapped on top, partially exposing his
chest and provoking that weird craving-something-but-no-idea-what feeling in the center of Jewel's.

Except she knew darn well
what.

In theory, she could have returned to Eli's. In fact, if she hadn't gone out on that delivery, she would've probably hauled her stuff back there tonight. But she had, so she hadn't, so here she was.

Having cravings.

“Couldn't sleep?” she whispered, a small shiver tracking up her spine.

Still focused on the screen, Silas shrugged. “Apparently not.”

“Want anything?”

Finally, his eyes shifted to hers. “You have no idea.”

The shiver turned to a rush of hoo-
Mama
heat over her face, her chest. “I take it we're not talking hot chocolate and toast.”

His gaze locked in hers, he shook his head, then released a soft, self-deprecating laugh. “And you probably are.”

She took a deep breath, then another, knowing the next move was hers. That Silas was far too much of a gentleman to come right out and ask. “Just so you know? I'm on the Pill.”

Loooong silence. “You sure?”

“That I'm on the Pill—?”

“No,” Silas said with another laugh. “About wanting—”

“To sleep with you? Yes.”

His head angled slightly, his gaze so steady she half wondered if she'd misread him. “Why?”

“Because I think…it would be…fun.”
And because it might be nice to do this with somebody I actually liked, for a change.

“Yeah,” he said softly. “Me, too. Unless…you're too tired…?”

Ohmi-freaking-gosh. This was really happening.

“Are you kidding? I got to catch another baby, I'm so wired I could send signals to Mars.”

“Okay.” Then he smiled. “So…wanna make out?”

Jewel clamped her hand over her mouth to smother her laugh, lowering it to whisper, “What is this, high school?”

“Except I never made out in high school.”

“Seriously?
Never?
”

“If you'd seen me in high school, you'd understand.”

“That's so sad,” she said, and he chuckled, all low and sexy and full of promise; and then she said, “you know, if you'd chuckled like that back then, you'd've had to fight 'em off with sticks,” and he laughed again and patted the space beside him.

“Come here,” he murmured, setting his glasses on the end table, and she went thinking…she could handle this, right?

And the imp's sniggers morphed into full-out guffaws.

Ignoring it—them, whatever—Jewel ditched her own glasses, her boots, her qualms, sinking into the deep cushions with a sigh when Silas eased her back into the sofa, shielding her with all that steady, quiet strength as their mouths met in a kiss that was serious flame-to-pilot-light time.
Whoosh.

Almost startled, she pulled back only to realize his crooked, barely visible smile in the dim light, the
Hah!
look in his eyes was far more dangerous than his mouth.

Or so she told herself as she skimmed her fingers through his hair and kissed him again.

 

What was that old saying? If this was wrong, he didn't want to be right?

It'd been a long, long time since Silas had fooled around with his babies asleep right down the hall, since he'd experienced the skin-tingling thrill of heightened awareness that went with it. Since he'd fooled around, period. But, cloaked in the near-darkness as each lingering, lazy kiss melted into the next, the initial prickles of anxiety also melted, into I-can-die-happy-now anticipation.

Until the sudden pressure of Jewel's hands on his shoulders brought his head up to see the same old ghosts of ambivalence in her eyes. Brushing her hair off her cheek, he smiled, even if it was probably a little shaky. “Change your mind?”

“And wouldn't you be one miserable dude if I had?”

Wrapping one arm around her waist, Silas shifted them on the cushions to put some breathing space between her thigh and his erection. “I'd survive.”

Now on her side, Jewel carefully wedged her elbow between Silas and the back of the couch to prop her head in her hand. “I'm not backing out, Si. Promise. But…you do know this is a one-off, right?”

Of course he knew that. Had known from the moment, hours before, when their eyes locked in the kitchen and
want
bounced back and forth between them like a flubberized Ping-Pong ball. Which is why he kicked disappointment right out on its sorry butt.

“I kinda figured. Hey…” He stroked his thumb across her cheek. “Is that what's bothering you? That you think I'm expecting more from you than you're ready to give?” When, after a moment, she nodded, he slipped his hand underneath her now loose hair, kissed her lightly on the mouth and tugged her down to cuddle, ignoring disappointment over
there in the corner making faces at him. “Then maybe you should stop thinking so much,” he said softly, “and simply enjoy the moment. Because I certainly intend to.”

Hesitantly, she traced one finger across his pecs. “You're really okay with that?”

He pushed out a short, dry laugh. “I haven't had sex in more than two years. What do you think?”

“Get out!” She wriggled free to prop herself up again. “Two
years?
”

“Nice to know you've been swapping spit with the biggest freak on the planet, right?”

“Actually…it's kind of sweet. In a freaky kind of way.” She settled in again. “Any particular reason?”

Silas paused, weighing his answer. “Didn't even think about it that much, to be truthful. Okay, I
thought
about it,” he said when she chuckled. “But I wasn't motivated to do anything more than that.” His fingers drifted up and down her arm. “Until a little bit ago.”

When the scales fell from my eyes.

“But hey,” she said. “No pressure.”

“None at all. Honey…I really do understand that things are up in the air for you right now. So I'm okay about this being whatever you want it to be, as long as you're up-front with me about that. Only thing that'll make me mad is if you say or do something because you think that's what I
want
you to say or do.”

She frowned. “I'd never do that. Especially to you. I'm not even sure I'm capable of it.”

“I know you're not.” In fact, her honesty was probably the main reason they were here right now. Issues, she had, but game-playing wasn't one of them. Sexiest thing ever.

Never mind that he was doing the very thing he'd made her promise not to do—saying what he knew she needed to hear. To a certain extent, anyway. Because he
didn't
want
her to feel she had to pretend with him, or feel pressured into something she wasn't ready for. The point was to make her feel safe, that she could trust him. And how could he do that if he told her how he really felt?

Just your average, everyday moral dilemma, yep.

“So,” she said. “What now?”

“So…we could keep making out and make ourselves crazy, stop making out and make ourselves crazier…or move things into my bedroom—which has an actual lock on the door—and get as crazy as we want.”

She paused. “Thought you didn't do crazy.”

“Yeah, surprised the hell out of me, too,” he said, then stood and hauled her into his arms in one surprisingly smooth motion, considering how long it'd been since he'd attempted such a thing, and she curled herself around him, completely trusting he wouldn't let her fall.

Even though he was in far more danger of that than she was.

 

The thing was, Jewel wasn't one of those women who pondered things a great deal during sex. Well, unless it was really bad—you know, the kind where you're wondering
Oh, dear heaven, is this ever going to be over?
or you sort of lose focus and start thinking about all the stuff you have to do the next day. When the sex was good, though, she'd found that more often than not the whole experience was one big rush of sensation and not a lot of point-by-point detail.

Such, however, was not the case this time. Not that sensations weren't rushing and all, but losing focus? Not an option. She should've known, the man was a freaking accountant, details were his
life.

And now, they were hers.

She'd had no idea her upper arms were erogenous zones.
Or her knees. Or the space between her shoulder blades. Or, that by the time he actually got around to the parts that were
supposed
to be erogenous zones, she'd be a basket case. As in writhing, whimpering and whining, which for some bizarre reason only egged him on. She also wondered—just idly, you understand, the merest passing thought—what on earth was wrong with his ex, to have voluntarily walked away from—

“Oh!” Jewel's head dropped back as Silas cupped her bottom and lowered his mouth—

This.

About that attention to detail thing…uh, yeah. As in, let's take our time, shall we? As in, dude was clearly having every bit as much fun as she was, which was going some since right now there were some major fireworks going off in her brain. Not to mention—

Holy moly,
she thought, biting her lip to stifle what would have been the scream to end all screams, as befitted the orgasm to end all orgasms. Lord, she'd be trembling from this one for a week. Then he slipped inside her, and she thought,
Okay, fine, your turn, only fair,
except—

Oh.

Oh, wow. Was this even possible?

Apparently so, since not long after a very nice aftershock in the 5.4 range or so rumbled through, right about the time Silas's Big One struck.

All of which would have struck her funny—well, actually, it did, she burst into a fit of muffled laughter right after—only then Silas's eyes caught hers and panic streaked through her as she realized,
Oh, fudge—you lied!

Over the imp's reeeeeally loud
Gotcha!
in her head.

It's okay, you can still salvage this, ignore the imp and play it cool—

Right. Except for the small issue of Silas looking so…
happy. And not happy like a man who just scored—well, maybe a little, around the eyes—but
happy,
happy.

As in, in love, happy. Or so Jewel guessed, her experience in such matters being somewhat limited.

Lying on his side, Silas looped an arm around her waist, his face all sappy and grinny and dopey. She couldn't
handle
the sappy/grinny/dopey face. She couldn't.

“That was fun,” he whispered, his thumb toying with the underside of one little A-cup breast. A breast which he'd said was the prettiest thing he'd ever seen, right before he proved how much, in this case, size
doesn't
matter. Her nipple tingled, begging.
More, please?

Right about the same time her heart said pretty much the same thing. Only louder. Because now Silas was the one inviting
her
inside, both offering her sanctuary and laying more than two years' worth of caution on the altar…for
her.

“Sure was,” Jewel said, pushing her mouth into a smile before pushing herself upright. “And ohmigosh, look at the time. We're both gonna be like zombies in the morning—”

She fought her way out of the tangled linens to look for her clothes, realizing this didn't exactly qualify as playing it cool. Behind her, she heard Silas sigh, then get up to yank his pajama bottoms back on.

“You know, if this had been ten years ago,” he said quietly, “I would have assumed either one or both of us was having drunken regrets or my skills in the sack were lacking. Since neither of us has been drinking that puts paid to option number one. And since I'm also gonna go out on a limb and guess you weren't faking it, that shoots option number two all to hell, too. So what's wrong?”

Zipping up her skirt, Jewel hmmphed out a laugh. And
ignored his question. “You've never had a drunken regret in your life.”

“No, but I've had plenty of sober ones.” Out of the corner of her eye, she saw his arms fold across his bare chest. “And I'm sure hoping this isn't one of them. Not for my sake, Jewel—I'm a big boy, I can handle your buyer's remorse. But it appears you can't.”

Her arms through her T-shirt, she jerked down the hem. “This isn't buyer's remorse! I knew exactly what I was doing when I went to bed with you!”

“Except that was before and this is now. And judging from the look on your face, I'm guessing now isn't so good, is it?” Obvious consternation twisting his features, he took a step closer. “It was just like you said, honey—two adults, one night of enjoying each other. Nothing more than that—”