Matt's Family. Lynnette Kent

listening to Matt’s even breathing and the beat of her own heart…a beat that became quick and unsteady as she soaked up her husband’s scent, his nearness, his sheer magnetism.

      In another few seconds, she knew he was awake. The very air around them was like a force pressing on her skin, making breathing difficult.

      Matt put a finger under her chin and lifted her face. As she closed her eyes, his breath brushed her temple and her cheek. When his lips finally settled over hers, Kristin surrendered completely to the firmness of his mouth, the graze of his teeth on her lower lip, the sweet pressure of his tongue against hers.

      “We haven’t made out in a car in a long time,” he whispered when they broke for breath. “Feels good.” He rubbed his knuckles gently along her spine under her shirt. “You feel good.”

      His touch created an unbearable ache. Kristin shifted even closer. “You make me crazy,” she murmured against the base of his throat.

      “I hope so.” Somehow he unfastened her bra—Matt had always been good with his hands. He covered her breast with his palm. “I’m trying.”

      She pulled his shirttail out of his shorts and smoothed her hands over his back, across his ribs and chest. “Let’s see if I can do the same for you.”

      “Oh, yeah,” he groaned. “Whatever you say.”

      Heated minutes followed, while the soft sounds they made pleasing each other filled the van. Matt’s shirt disappeared, and her shorts. Smiling, quivering, Kristin remembered that this wasn’t the old days. They were married now. They didn’t have to stop.

      Or did they?

      Drenched with reality, her mind cleared. Birth control. They needed to use birth control. “Matt,” she whispered against the soft, short hair on the top of his head. “Matt, wait.”

      “Hmm?” He raised his head and looked at her, his blue eyes heavy with desire. “Waiting is fast becoming a non-option, lady.” His sweet smile as he came in for another kiss robbed the statement of any demand.

      “Matt. We need to stop for a minute.” She closed her hands on his shoulders and pushed. “I need to…get ready.”

      He blinked. “Oh. Yeah.” Sitting up, he ran a hand over his face. “Sure.”

      Flushed with embarrassment, Kristin made her way to the second-row seat and leaned over the back to reach her suitcase. She snapped open the latch and lifted the lid. And stared.

      Her makeup bag wasn’t there, on top, where she’d put it. How could it have gotten moved? Or did it just sift down through the clothes? Heart pounding, she felt her way through the entire case. She found her hair dryer, her curling iron, her clothes iron and her three extra pairs of shoes. But no makeup bag.

      Kristin crossed her arms on the back of the seat and buried her face in them.

      “What?” Matt put a hand on her back. “Kris, what’s wrong?”

      “My makeup bag,” she whispered without lifting her head. “I left it at home.”

      “And?”

      “And my diaphragm was inside.”

      “That means—”

      “Yes, it does.” She turned around and sat facing him, pulling her shirt down over her hips. “We don’t have any protection. We can’t do…this…anymore.”

      CHAPTER FOUR

      MATT SWALLOWED HARD. “Kris, we’re married. We can take the risk.” His body begged him not to debate the issue very long.

      With her face hidden in her hands, she shook her head. The gold of her hair picked up a glint of moonlight.

      His skin was beginning to chill. “Why not?”

      “This…isn’t a…good time for a baby.”

      The truth didn’t soothe his frustration or his temper. “Just when will be a good time?”

      “I—”

      “What exactly is it we’re waiting for?” His voice was too loud in the dark, and out of his control. “Can you give me a hint about how to recognize when we get there?”

      Kristin looked up, her eyes round and dark. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t mean to.”

      Matt muttered a rude word. He found his shirt on the floor and shrugged it on, then eased back onto the seat beside his wife.

      “Don’t apologize. It’s not your fault I’m a jerk.” Slipping an arm around her shoulders, he turned her to sit next to him, then tipped her face up with a finger under her chin. “I just wanted you so much. For a minute there, I wasn’t thinking with my brain.”

      The corners of her mouth tilted into a small smile. He breathed a sigh of relief. “You should put a pair of jeans on. It’s getting chilly.” He resolutely closed his eyes during the process. His system was still revved way too high to resist temptation.

      “Done.” Kristin sat down again. “I guess we could start driving, try to find our way to Fredericksburg.”

      Matt yawned and slouched down in the seat. “I vote we just get some sleep and wait for daybreak. Okay with you?”

      She snuggled under his arm and rested her head on his chest. “That’s fine. I could probably sleep until noon.” She rubbed her eyes with her free hand, then set it lightly on his belly. In another minute, Kristin was asleep.

      Matt dropped his head back and stared up at the ceiling of the van. He’d almost lost his temper—about sex, of all things. It wasn’t as if they hadn’t made love last night, or wouldn’t get another chance.

      But… A small voice in his head insisted on being heard.But what would be the problem with having another baby? What is she afraid of?

      He closed his eyes. Did Kris worry that he’d disappear again, leaving her with three children to care for on her own?

      Or maybe the insomnia, the distraction, the sadness, was a hint that Kristin wasn’t sure she would stay.

      No way should they create a child, only to get a divorce. Their lives were messy enough already.

      A divorce. This was the first time he’d let the word into his mind. Did Kris want one?

      Do I? he asked himself.

      Kristin cuddled a little closer, and he tightened his arm. God, no. He didn’t want a divorce. This woman was all he’d thought about for five years. Every day he’d imagined her at home, at the grocery store, on the beach. He’d woven elaborate stories about Kristin’s days…and her nights. With him.

      Reality had been different. The Kristin he came back to was not the one he left, and she wasn’t the woman of his fantasies. Four years later, he was still coping with the changes.

      But Matt knew he wouldn’t—couldn’t—give her up.

      KRISTIN AWOKE the next morning with Matt’s kiss on her mouth. “Happy first anniversary, wife of mine.”

      She smiled and stretched, without opening her eyes. “Mmm. Are we having breakfast in bed?”

      He chuckled. “Sure. Just as soon as we see a fast-food drive-through.”

      She raised one eyelid to look at him. “That means getting up, doesn’t it?”

      “I don’t know about you, but I’m ready for a walk in the woods.”

      “Oh.” She felt her face flush. “Me, too.”

      “And then,” he said as they climbed stiffly out of the van, “we can work on finding breakfast and Fredericksburg.”

      They reached their first important battlefield