Carla Neggers - The Carriage House

She was off, and when Tess turned from the window herself, she saw that Andrew was leaning in the doorway. She felt an unexpected rush of heat. Dolly bulldozed right past him.

"Have you been there long?" Tess asked, suddenly self-conscious.

"Long enough to know she was about to talk your ear off."

"I held my own. Seeing Dolly makes me realize just how young I was when my mother died. She had leukemia." Tess gathered up several stuffed animals Dolly had dumped on the floor and set them back on the bed. "Anyway, that's neither here nor there. It's got nothing to do with you and your daughter."

He walked into the room, glanced out the window as he spoke. It was dark now, but he didn't seem concerned about Harl and Dolly working on a window for her tree house. "Joanna died doing something she loved to do. I don't know if I could have watched her waste away."

"Sudden death isn't easy."

"There's no easy way to die young. I hope Dolly will make some sense out of it when she's older."

"She's making sense of it now," Tess said, then gave him a quick smile. "Chew-bee probably helps."

He laughed. "If Chew-bee weren't thin air, I'd send her to her room."

Tess picked up a rag doll and put her back on the shelf. "Very clever. I think I'll make up a pretend friend. She can write letters to deadbeat clients demanding they pay up, and she can say all the things I'd get into trouble for saying."

"Be careful what you wish for."

"Yes. I wished for a cottage by the ocean, and look what I got."

He remained in the doorway, watching her as she moved around the small, girlish room. "Ike can be very persuasive."

"You're not kidding. I drove past the carriage house a couple of times, but basically I took it sight unseen. I never even stepped foot in it."

He smiled. "Is that an example of creative risk-tak-ing?"

"It's probably just nuts."

She stopped in the middle of the room, unable to think of any more busywork to do. She'd have to walk past him in the doorway. "You and Ike weren't friends?"

"No."

"He grew up in Beacon-"

"And I'm from a rough section of Gloucester. Two different worlds."

She found herself wanting to know more about his life, what made this man so self-contained. "Harl's from Gloucester as well?"

"Down the street from my folks. They're hardworking people, not real complicated. The world got complicated on them, neighborhood went to hell. They did their best."

"Do they still live in Gloucester?"

"Yep. In a better neighborhood."

"And Harl-he was a policeman?"

"Detective." Andrew drew away from the door frame, straightening, suddenly seeming even taller. "One day, between police work and Vietnam, he'd seen enough. He walked out, grew his hair, grew a beard, turned a hobby into a business. After Joanna died and I moved in here, he fixed up the shed out back."

"If he's your cousin, does that mean you don't have any brothers and sisters?"

He smiled almost imperceptibly. "Not a chance. Three brothers, one sister, all in Gloucester. Bunch of nieces and nephews."

"And are they all pure granite like you?"

"Worse."

She laughed, but saw he was watching her, attuned to even her smallest reaction. It was unsettling, a kind of single-minded attention she'd never experienced turned on her. She focused on one of Dolly's crowns, a fixed spot, to keep her balance.

"Come on," he said quietly. "Let's take some cookies and milk out to Dolly and Harl, see if they're ready to come in out of the dark."

But he stayed in the doorway, and when she started past him, he caught her gently around the waist, as if he'd been waiting just for this moment. Without thinking, she placed a hand on his chest, saw a flash of heat in his eyes. She felt her mouth go dry, a sudden urge to stay right where she was all night, in this half embrace overpowering her senses, unable to think of skulls in the dirt, of Ike or lies.

"You okay?" Andrew asked softly.

"Just fine."

His mouth found hers, the kiss so natural, so perfect, it seemed to have been destined. She shut her eyes, savored the play of his lips on hers, the taste of them. Both his arms went around her, drawing her closer, until she was against him, sighing at the feel of his hard, lean body. Her lips parted, and his hands tensed on her sides as he reacted, their kiss deepening. Liquid heat spilled through her, fired every fiber of her.

She ran her hands down his sides, held him as he half lifted her onto him, wanting to melt into him, become one with him, her body burning for that release. He cupped her hips, drawing her hard against his arousal.

The feel of him, the heat of him, brought a gasp of awareness, reality. She opened her eyes, and he lowered her, pushed her gently back against the door frame. His eyes were as dark as midnight, telling her that she shouldn't mistake his stoic nature for control. He was on the precipice, sweeping his gaze over her, taking in just how aroused she was.

He skimmed his fingertips over her breasts, ignoring her quick breath, and touched her mouth. His was set in a hard line, as if he'd done something he regretted, knew was wrong. "You're a dangerous woman to have next door."

"That took both of us."

He nodded.

"It doesn't have to happen again," she added quickly.

"That's where you're wrong." He kissed her again, lightly, his eyes sparkling with sudden humor. "Cookies?"

"Yes," she said with a grin. "Cookies would be wonderful."

She stopped back at the carriage house to lock up. Distracted over going to dinner next door and her father and Davey not finding the skull, she'd forgotten. It wasn't as if it'd make much difference. Anyone who wanted to get into the place could with little imagination or effort. But there was no point in inviting trouble.

While she was here, she decided to check on Tippy Tail and the kittens, especially with the mother cat being so skittish. Tess slipped into the kitchen, turning on just the outdoor light over the side steps. It provided enough light for her to make out the tiny kittens and their very awake mother. Tippy Tail stared at her with half-closed eyes in that haughty cat-way, but didn't move. Tess shuddered, remembering the gleam of golden eyes last night in the dark cellar.

The carriage house was quiet, and she cast eerie shadows as she moved to the sink. Going back to Boston tonight was the right thing to do, she told herself. She probably hadn't seen a damn thing last night, and she'd kissed Andrew Thorne. She needed to get her bearings. Maybe she wasn't cut out for owning a country house.

She turned on the balky faucet and splashed water on her face. She breathed, leaning over the sink, water still dripping from her face. She could use the warm spring evening, wine and chocolate chip cookies as an excuse for what had happened between them. Take Andrew off the hook, as well. The conditions were ripe for a kiss.

But talk about precipitous, she thought with a long, cathartic sigh. She liked to trust her instincts in her work, but they weren't necessarily reliable when it came to men. With her design work, she would always go with her instincts, see where they led her, because they were grounded in her experience and education, her success. Not so with her relationships. She'd had some good relationships, even if they hadn't lasted, but some notoriously rotten ones, too, especially in the past few years. Now she was more carefree-or supposed to be. Her father and Davey said she'd gone from being too impulsive to too picky. But what did they know?

She dried her face with a paper towel and touched her fingers to her mouth. And smiled. It had been a hell of a kiss.

She glanced back at the cat. "Couldn't you at least give the box in the bathroom a try?"