Pamela Hearon - My Way Back to You

His face sobered, and he took a long breath. “Kind of like old times. Me slaving in the hot sun while you shop.”

What a low blow! Immediately, Maggie went on the defensive, her spine stiffening, bracing for combat. But then she saw the edge of his mouth twitch. He was toying with her. Well...she could play, too. “ Really like old times. You on the golf course. Me left to my own entertainment.”

He pinned her with a hard look, but then both corners of his mouth twitched, and he dissolved into laughter. “We were quite a pair, weren’t we?”

She nodded her smiling agreement just as the server arrived with their order. The young woman opened the champagne discreetly—no big fanfare to draw attention to the dark corner—and filled the two glasses.

Maggie leaned forward on her elbows, watching the bubbles as they caught the light and danced their way to the top. “It looks like some kind of magic potion.”

“It is.” Jeff picked up the two glasses and handed her one. His gaze was direct, his eyes soft. “Drinking this will wipe away all the bad times and help us remember only the good. Like Russ...and last night’s kiss.”

Maggie’s heart skipped a beat—apparently she wasn’t so numb, after all.

Jeff raised his glass as one of his eyebrows arched in both question and challenge.

Maggie tipped her glass, touching the edge to his. “To the good times—past and future.”

* * *

MAGGIE’S WORDS SENT an impact through Jeff that left a crater the size of Lake Michigan, which instantly filled with desire. The kiss last night had lit the fuse, and all day he’d been affected by the slow burn. He’d managed to throw the energy into his golf game, crushing the ball with his driver at each tee box, playing like he’d never played before.

But now, it was Maggie he wanted to crush...in the most tender of ways. But he couldn’t simply suggest they go up to one of their rooms and get it on, even if that was precisely what he wanted to do. This was a special night—the kind that came once in a lifetime. He would make it last.

The champagne truly was a magic elixir. He watched it bring a sparkle to Maggie’s eyes and a blush to her cheeks after just one glass. But when a girlish giggle bubbled out of her during one of his stories that wasn’t that funny, it gave him pause. Getting her drunk wasn’t the plan. This was a night to make memories—he wanted them both to remember it come tomorrow. He ordered a fruit-and-cheese plate to give them a reason to slow down the drinking.

While they waited for the food, the pianist broke into a jazzy swing tune. Dancing was one of the things they did together in college and were good at—second only to lovemaking. “Want to dance?” he asked, unsure if it was something she still enjoyed.

“Yes!” Her answer was nearly a squeal.

As they fell into the rhythm, the years fell away, and their bodies moved in perfect precision. They swung, they twirled, two hands clasped, then one hand and an underarm turn. Both of them anticipated the movements of the other as if the entire dance had been choreographed. Jeff was vaguely aware they were clearing the dance floor, but he didn’t let it stop them—tonight was all about the good times. Besides, he and Maggie had often done the same thing in college.

“Ready?” he asked as the song neared its end, and she nodded.

“Ready.”

He sent her into an impressive set of underarm twirls and prayed she didn’t get sick like she did that time at the frat house—their first clue she was pregnant. The last notes brought her tightly against him and he dipped her dramatically. The lounge went silent and then a hearty round of raucous applause exploded from every corner. To Jeff’s amazement—and slight embarrassment—the open passageways into the lobby had filled with onlookers as people had stopped to watch the impromptu show. With their arms around each other’s backs and a couple of waves to the crowd, they sauntered back to their table and anonymity, short of breath, panting and hanging on to each other for support.

“I haven’t danced like that in twenty years.” Maggie’s words were punctuated by gasps as she plopped onto the love seat, sliding over to make room for him.

“Me, neither.” The exertion from the dance had given him a momentary respite from the erection he’d sported most of the day, but Maggie’s breathless exclamation shifted it back into forward gear. He tried to ignore it as he poured them more champagne and relaxed against the back of his seat.

Maggie stacked some cheese onto a crostini and drizzled it with honey, then held it up in offering. Rather than taking it from her, he opened his mouth and she fed it to him. He closed his lips around the bite, deliberately catching the tips of her fingers in a small suck to gauge her response.

She didn’t flinch. Didn’t draw back. On the contrary, she allowed the tip of her middle finger to linger a fraction longer before dragging it down the middle of his bottom lip. Her lids drooped to half-mast, and she gave him a smoldering smile as she leaned back against one shoulder, her face and body turned slightly toward him.

His eyes dropped from hers to her mouth, mesmerized by the way her lips parted sensually, her tongue touching them, making them glisten in invitation.

He took a sip of champagne to wash away any of the lingering cracker, then leaned toward her, bringing his mouth to hers in answer. She left her hands as they were—one lying between them on the seat, the other relaxed in her lap. Her lips coaxed him deeper, parting for him, allowing small, sexually charged whimpers to escape, which sounded like both need and satisfaction.

And that kiss was just the beginning.

As they talked and laughed away the rest of the champagne, it was obvious that they both knew exactly how this magical night was going to end.

And so, during the last dance—a slow one that pressed her against him, making her aware of the effects she was having on his body—it came as no real surprise when she whispered to him, “Do you have condoms?”

“That’s a loaded question,” he whispered back, enjoying the way his breath on her neck caused her to shiver. “If I say no, where does that leave us? But if I say yes, it’s as good as admitting I went to the drugstore in anticipation of this after last night.”

Her cheek rested against his as her fingers played softly with the hair at the nape of his neck. “I hope the answer’s yes.”

“Then it’s yes.”

Her response was a contented sigh as she pressed her body closer to his.

CHAPTER SIX

KEY CARDS WERE such wonderful inventions. No fumbling with locks—just a smooth transition from outside to inside, public view to privacy...exes to intimates.

Somewhere deep in her mind, a voice screamed that she was making a huge mistake, allowing this man to crack the safe place she’d built to contain her feelings for him.

But she couldn’t hear the screaming over his soft murmurs when his mouth left hers for just a moment. They kissed long and hard, a frenzy of passion and excitement—as if there were no tomorrow.

Because, for them, there wasn’t.

Tomorrow wasn’t anything that needed to be discussed. Everything they desired had to be acted on tonight, then tucked away and forgotten.

Clothes came off hurriedly, amid giggles and kisses, and the condom package made its appearance. But just as she moved for the bed, seeking shelter under the covers, Jeff stopped her. “Not yet, Mags.” With his hands on her hips, he turned her to him. “I want to see you.”

His gentle tone and the way he nuzzled her neck eased her discomfort some, though not completely. He hadn’t seen her up close and personal in sixteen years. What would he think of her now? “I’m not twenty-one anymore,” she cautioned.