No Ordinary Home. Mary Sullivan

nodded as though he understood, but how could he? He had a good job and, she presumed, a roof over his head. She doubted he ever went hungry or wore hand-me-downs, or worse, ate something found in the garbage. He couldn’t possibly relate to homeless life.

      “Did the meal stay down?” he asked.

      “It stayed down, probably because it was small. I nodded off after I ate. That helped.”

      “Are you still hungry?”

      “Always.”

      Humor crinkled the corners of Austin’s eyes. He had nice eyes, blue and bright, warm when he let down his cop’s guard. He picked up the phone from the bedside table. “What do you want?”

      “Anything.”

      “You mean that, don’t you?”

      “Yes. I’ll eat anything you order. Except maybe raw fish. I doubt I could keep that down right now.”

      Austin’s smile lit up his face like fireworks piercing the night sky. She could sell tickets to the women staying in the hotel and make a bundle. Lordy, lordy.

      “Doubt it’s on the menu,” he said.

      Gracie returned his smile, surprised how good it felt to be playful with this man, to not be serious and worried every second of the day.

      “Grilled cheese okay with you?”

      “That would be good, yeah.”

      He ordered a sandwich for her and a big bag of chips and a soda for himself. After they arrived, he pulled off his cowboy boots and settled himself on top of the covers, leaning against the headboard and shoving chips into his mouth while she ate a sandwich made with two cheeses on whole wheat bread, forcing herself to slow down and savor each bite. The last thing she needed was to screw up her stomach again.

      Austin picked up the TV remote. “Let’s see if there’s anything on worth watching.”

      When Gracie finished the sandwich, Austin caught her licking butter and grease from her fingers. She flushed. “I’m sorry. My manners have slipped while I’ve been on the road.”

      “How long has that been?”

      “Since I—” The sentence came to a screeching halt, like tires squealing before a car wreck. His casual tone had nearly sucked her into betraying her secrets. The ambience of the room, the low lighting that cast a soft glow on one end of a dark room, the camaraderie of two people sitting on a bed watching TV together as friends do, had lulled her. The situation was so unusual for her that she’d been seduced into trusting this stranger.

      Frantic, she rebuilt the mental barriers that had slipped. Even so, part of her still wanted to pretend she could enjoy some of this time together. The pillows running the length of the bed between them offered the illusion of safety. She could appreciate his company without fear of him wanting more.

      He flipped the channels, pausing briefly on a couple doing the dirty.

      “Um,” she murmured. “We should watch something other than porn.” It had been so long, she couldn’t remember how making love felt. This man stretched beside her, in his confident easy male glory, made her sap run.

      None of that, she ordered her unruly libido.

      “Probably a good idea to switch.” He sounded subdued. “Let’s see what else is on.” He flipped channels.

      “Hey! The Television Food Network. I want to watch.”

      “You would. Naw. Let’s find a movie.”

      They settled on The Bourne Identity. “This movie’s great,” Austin said.

      “Macho spy thriller full of action. No wonder you like it.”

      “Matt Damon looking pretty buff. No wonder you like it.”

      “He’s okay.” She tried to sound nonchalant while her eyes were glued to the set. Buff understated it. He didn’t hold a candle to Austin, though.

      She never saw the end of the movie, just quietly slipped under the covers when sleep claimed her. She thought she felt someone pull the covers over her shoulders.

CHAPTER FOUR

      THE HEAT AGAINST his chest and belly burned with a flame Austin hadn’t felt in too long. His thumb stroked skin as velvety as the leaves of the geraniums he’d planted in pots in the spring, for his mother. Not that she’d noticed.

      The woman in his arms smelled of coconut and exotic flowers.

      His lips found her neck, her tiny mewls of pleasure a waterfall of delight.

      He came awake slowly, the dream too good to give up, his hands caressing and exploring soft skin. She curled against him as though she could burrow inside of him. Whomever he’d slept with last night sure was affectionate.

      Slept with!

      His eyes flew open.

      Gracie lay nestled against him as sweetly as a puppy against its mother. There was nothing sexual in the way her fingers curled around his arm, or the way her forehead lay in the curve of his neck, but it was morning, he was male, and she female. His first thoughts had been sexual.

      If she knew, she would hate him for it. He knew she didn’t want him to think of her as vulnerable, but he did. She was. What would she think of him if she knew he wanted her?

      He shouldn’t have made that nasty remark yesterday about her being too thin, but he’d been sick of her accusing him of being interested in only one thing and he’d snapped. What would she think if she woke up now and noticed that his body sure didn’t mind her being so thin?

      Before she could feel the effect she had on him, he eased out of bed. Like a trusting puppy, she followed him, murmuring in her sleep, her hand caressing his arm. He found the gesture poignant and sweet, his thoughts changing, no longer sexual, but tender. He should move, get away from her, but he liked this natural, honest woman with her prickly defenses down.

      The pillows he’d used to separate them had been tossed to the floor sometime during the night. He was pretty sure it hadn’t been by him.

      She didn’t stir. He glanced at the clock. Seven.

      The sun shimmering through the sheer curtains lit her face with a soft glow. Her hair, clean now and blue-black in morning sunlight, framed high cheekbones, a sharp chin and a stubborn jawline. Those fierce raven’s-wing eyebrows were less intimidating in sleep.

      Her cheeks glowed pink against alabaster skin.

      She cleaned up well.

      Looking younger and not as hard-edged as she had yesterday, was this the real Gracie? Or was yesterday’s tough woman the real one?

      He didn’t know. She had secrets. That much he could tell. She could keep them. He hardened his heart against the tenderness of a few moments ago. He didn’t need to carry anyone else’s burdens.

      He grabbed a clean T-shirt and underwear, and yesterday’s jeans, and went to the bathroom to shower and get dressed. No sense having her wake up and catching him semi-aroused. She would stop trusting him.

      So what? After breakfast, he would never see her again. He and Finn would be on their way to fish until they were sick of it.

      * * *

      GRACIE LAY STILL until she heard the bathroom door close and the shower turn on. Then she exhaled the breath she’d been holding since she’d rolled over and tried to follow the warmth of arms that had let her go too soon.

      When her mind had registered where she was, who she was with and what she was doing, she had lain still with her eyes closed. Awkward.

      Austin had rocketed out of the bed, probably propelled by her trying to cuddle with him, and most likely disgusted