“You’ll be all right on your own tonight?” Ethan asked as one pulled up in front of them.
Mary climbed into the cab and this time sat close to the door. “Have been for the past twenty-some years,” she uttered softly.
“What was that?” Ethan asked, not having heard her muffled answer.
She released a heavy sigh. “I said, I’ll be just fine.”
At night on Mackinac Island something wonderful happens. As the sun sets slowly and exquisitely against the water, the sounds of nature hum rhythmically through an invisible speaker. Forget expensive sound machines to soothe you to sleep, opening a window and stretching out on the bed was all Mary needed for a relaxing evening.
Well, that and some food…and a glass of wine.
With several pillows behind her head, Mary grabbed the delivery menus she’d garnered from the buggy driver and flipped through them. Beside her on the table was the guest list she now knew backward and forward, and she was ready to chill out. She paused on the page of an Italian menu that sounded pretty good and grabbed her cell phone off the bedside table. But before she had completed dialing the number, there was a sharp rap on the door downstairs.
She glanced at the clock. Would Ethan really be done with his dinner meeting by eight-thirty? Maybe it was Harold, come to discuss the history of each barn stall and let her know that Man O’War once sired a foal here. Laughing at her idiocy, Mary loped down the stairs and hauled back the barn door.
Ethan Curtis leaned against the door frame looking incredibly handsome in jeans and a black long-sleeved T- shirt, his sharp jaw dusted with stubble.
“Everything okay?” Mary asked, amusement in her voice.
“Yeah,” he began, then took it back. “Well, no. There’s a problem up at the main house.”
“Seriously? What is it? Did a pipe burst or something? These older houses are notorious for plumbing problems no matter how new the pipes…”
“No. It’s not the pipes.”
“Fireplace smoking?”
“No.”
She just loved it when he was forthcoming. “Well, what is it? Can’t figure out which bed to sleep in?”
His eyes darkened. “Something like that.”
Instinctively she took a step back, but only managed to knock her heel against a bucket and feel like a clumsy oaf. “How did your meeting go?”
“Good, fine, boring,” he said, his gaze moving over her. “They’re looking forward to the barbecue.”
Mary nodded, her mouth suddenly numb. If he would only just grab her, make this easy on both of them.
“Oh…” Ethan pulled a plastic bag from behind his back and handed it to her. “I thought if you hadn’t eaten…”
“Thanks. I was just about to order something.”
“Now you don’t have to.”
Many different ways of asking, “Would you like to share this with me?” popped into Mary’s head, but she rejected all of them. After all, he’d just come from dinner with clients. “Well, I’m going to go and enjoy this.”
“Okay.” He didn’t move.
She raised a brow at him and tried to apply a professional tone. “Do we need to discuss anything or can it wait until morning?”
He walked past her into the barn, his hand brushing over hers as he took the takeout bag from her. “You know what? I don’t think it can wait.”
Ten
Ethan hadn’t been kidding about the dinner he’d just had with two potential clients. The food had been ordinary, the conversation bland, and somewhere around the caprese salad, he’d hoped for a fire in the kitchen so an immediate evacuation would send him back to The Birches.
Mary followed him up the stairs to the loft, her tone warily playful. “Something tells me that inviting you in may turn out to be dangerous.”
“Perceptive,” he said over his shoulder.
“So if you come in, can we talk about the menu?”
“I’m already in, but sure.” At the moment, Ethan could care less about the menu for the barbecue. He was in Mary’s room, surrounded by moonlight and the subtle soapy scent of her. Hell, at this moment, he couldn’t care less about work, clients or good manners.
Her back to the wall, Mary gestured around the room. “Not many places to sit.”
Ethan glanced at the bed, then back at her. “No.”
Looking suddenly self-conscious in her pink tank top and matching boy shorts, Mary eyed the bathroom door. “I should throw on a robe or something.”
“Don’t go to any trouble for me.”
“I think I’m already in trouble,” she muttered, walking over to the bedside table and grabbing a yellow legal pad. “So, the caterer thinks-and I agree with her-that an all-American barbecue would be best. Ribs, burgers, barbecued chicken, sweet-potato fries, salads, pecan and apple pies. And maybe some local flavors like fresh cherried whitefish.”
Didn’t she get it? Ethan wondered, dropping the takeout bag on the window seat. She could move across the room, across the yard or all the way across the island and it wouldn’t make a damn bit of difference. He’d still come for her, he’d still seek her out-his need for her was that strong.
“Some of the local menu items are interesting,” she continued, her breathing slightly labored as she spoke, as though she’d just ran the loft stairs. “We could have a tasting if you’d like.”
“I’d like that.”
His tone and meaning were clear as the night sky outside the window, and Mary shook her head, her pale-blue eyes uneasy. “We can’t.”
“We won’t.”
Mary’s skin suddenly felt very tight, as if she’d spent weeks in the sun without protection, and she tossed him a look that said, “Yeah, right.” They were leading up to something here, something inevitable, proven even further by the fact that Ethan was walking toward her right now.
“I swear I won’t even go near the bed,” he said. Ethan brought his hands up and cupped her face, the warmth of his skin melting all of her resolve in an instant. She leaned toward him as he dipped his head and covered her mouth in a series of soul-crashing kisses.
He was so warm as his mouth and his chest brushed teasingly against her breasts that Mary’s knees nearly buckled, and she wrapped her arms around Ethan’s neck for support. His body responding at once, Ethan groaned at the nearness and gently pressed her back against the wall, cradling her neck in his hand as he explored her mouth with teasing, drifting kisses until she opened for him, gave him a sweep of her tongue.
Mary tried to keep her head, tried to recall what they had said to each other just the other day, the rotten things they’d said, but each thought faded away like fog in the sun. She felt his hand delve under her shirt, felt his palm on her stomach and sucked air through her teeth, her back arching as she silently begged him to explore higher.
Pressing closer to her, Ethan reached around her with his free hand and unhooked her bra, setting her free while holding her captive with his mouth. Mary could hardly remain still. Her skin itched to be touched, and when his hand raked up her torso and covered one full breast, when he slowly rolled the hard peak between his thumb and forefinger, she cried out into his mouth.
The sound had Ethan backing off for a moment, his hungry gaze fixated on her. Thinking he was about to scoop her up and deposit her on the bed, Mary shook her head wearily. “You swore you wouldn’t-”
“Go near the bed,” he finished for her. “And I’m not.”
“Then…what are you-”
