loved that about her. “You remembered that when your husband died.”
“Yeah. I was in New York when Will was killed. My book had just come out and hit the bestseller lists and I’d done a short interview on one of the TV morning shows. I was on top of the world and when I got home, Will and I were going out to celebrate. Instead, I got home just in time to sign the organ donor releases. My friend Kate took me home and I thought about that old woman as I was walking up to my front door. I couldn’t go in. Couldn’t stand to see his shoes in the foyer. I slept at Kate’s that night. Eventually I did go inside the house, but it was so hard.” She shrugged uncomfortably. “The next week, I got an invitation to lecture about the book, so I went away again. The next time I came home it was harder to go in and I stayed an even shorter time. Suddenly a year had passed and I realized what a coward I’d been.”
Christopher hated to hear her beat herself up. “Maybe you knew too much, Emma. Listening to all those grieving people in your practice all those years, maybe you knew how hard the road to acceptance was going to be. Sometimes knowing how long the road is makes it harder to take the first step.”
“Or the first bite,” Emma murmured. “That’s very wise, Christopher.” She looked up at him, admiration in her eyes, and his heart stumbled. “Thank you.”
His chest was tight, pressured. His groin even more so. He wanted her with every fiber of his being and if he didn’t move now, he’d never be able to give her the space and time she’d asked for. Abruptly he stood up. “We should be going now.” He pulled her to her feet, ignoring her surprised squeak. Gathered his coat and her shoes and started back toward the restaurant and his car.
“Christopher!” He stopped and looked back. She stood there, hands on her hips. Her very curvy hips. His mouth watered as it always had. “What’s wrong with you?”
He hesitated, then in three long strides was standing in front of her. His coat and her shoes were back on the sand and his arms were around her and his mouth was crushing hers. And she was kissing him back, frantically, as if she’d never get enough. Her arms lifted around his neck, her breasts pressed into his chest and he knew this was the dream he’d had every miserable night of his adolescent life. And longer.
She was on her toes, leaning up into him. Then her round, curvy ass was filling his hands and he lifted her off her feet, needing to feel her against him. Needing her to feel how much he wanted her. Her wild little whimpers of pleasure drove him insane and he ground himself into her softness, rubbing her up and down his rock hard, aching length. Torturing them both. He could have her here.
Right here. Right now
.
But they were on a public beach. His sanity returned with a slam and with it a healthy dose of guilt. He’d promised to give her time. He released her, sliding her down his body until her toes made purchase with the sand. Then let her go, turning to the water, his lungs working like a bellows. She should be angry with him. Maybe even slap his face. Instead, she rested her forehead against his upper arm and sighed.
“I think you’re right,” she said. “We should be going now.”
* * *
They walked back to the restaurant in half the time it had taken them to walk the beach. Earlier they’d been strolling and chatting. Now they were power walking and silent. His car stood nearly alone in Crabby Bill’s parking lot.
“Where’s your car?” he asked.
“I took a cab,” she said. “I’ll take one now. You can go home. Megan will be waiting for you.”
“Megan’s at her friend’s pajama party and I’m not going to let you take a cab. I’ll drive you to the hotel.” When she hesitated he rolled his eyes. “I’m not going to attack you in the car. Get in, Emma.” He pulled out of the parking lot and looked over at her. She was looking out the window, her
“Yeah. I was in New York when Will was killed. My book had just come out and hit the bestseller lists and I’d done a short interview on one of the TV morning shows. I was on top of the world and when I got home, Will and I were going out to celebrate. Instead, I got home just in time to sign the organ donor releases. My friend Kate took me home and I thought about that old woman as I was walking up to my front door. I couldn’t go in. Couldn’t stand to see his shoes in the foyer. I slept at Kate’s that night. Eventually I did go inside the house, but it was so hard.” She shrugged uncomfortably. “The next week, I got an invitation to lecture about the book, so I went away again. The next time I came home it was harder to go in and I stayed an even shorter time. Suddenly a year had passed and I realized what a coward I’d been.”
Christopher hated to hear her beat herself up. “Maybe you knew too much, Emma. Listening to all those grieving people in your practice all those years, maybe you knew how hard the road to acceptance was going to be. Sometimes knowing how long the road is makes it harder to take the first step.”
“Or the first bite,” Emma murmured. “That’s very wise, Christopher.” She looked up at him, admiration in her eyes, and his heart stumbled. “Thank you.”
His chest was tight, pressured. His groin even more so. He wanted her with every fiber of his being and if he didn’t move now, he’d never be able to give her the space and time she’d asked for. Abruptly he stood up. “We should be going now.” He pulled her to her feet, ignoring her surprised squeak. Gathered his coat and her shoes and started back toward the restaurant and his car.
“Christopher!” He stopped and looked back. She stood there, hands on her hips. Her very curvy hips. His mouth watered as it always had. “What’s wrong with you?”
He hesitated, then in three long strides was standing in front of her. His coat and her shoes were back on the sand and his arms were around her and his mouth was crushing hers. And she was kissing him back, frantically, as if she’d never get enough. Her arms lifted around his neck, her breasts pressed into his chest and he knew this was the dream he’d had every miserable night of his adolescent life. And longer.
She was on her toes, leaning up into him. Then her round, curvy ass was filling his hands and he lifted her off her feet, needing to feel her against him. Needing her to feel how much he wanted her. Her wild little whimpers of pleasure drove him insane and he ground himself into her softness, rubbing her up and down his rock hard, aching length. Torturing them both. He could have her here.
Right here. Right now
.
But they were on a public beach. His sanity returned with a slam and with it a healthy dose of guilt. He’d promised to give her time. He released her, sliding her down his body until her toes made purchase with the sand. Then let her go, turning to the water, his lungs working like a bellows. She should be angry with him. Maybe even slap his face. Instead, she rested her forehead against his upper arm and sighed.
“I think you’re right,” she said. “We should be going now.”
* * *
They walked back to the restaurant in half the time it had taken them to walk the beach. Earlier they’d been strolling and chatting. Now they were power walking and silent. His car stood nearly alone in Crabby Bill’s parking lot.
“Where’s your car?” he asked.
“I took a cab,” she said. “I’ll take one now. You can go home. Megan will be waiting for you.”
“Megan’s at her friend’s pajama party and I’m not going to let you take a cab. I’ll drive you to the hotel.” When she hesitated he rolled his eyes. “I’m not going to attack you in the car. Get in, Emma.” He pulled out of the parking lot and looked over at her. She was looking out the window, her
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