A Reason to Love Read online

Page 14


  Her mother would disapprove, which only left Melanie even more determined to enjoy the experience.

  “Hold on tight.”

  Before she could respond, Spence revved the engine and set the bike in motion. She squealed in surprise, but Spence only laughed and kept going. For the first few blocks, he kept up a slow pace, giving her a chance to adjust to the strange sensation of riding behind him on the bike. She closed her eyes and leaned her head against his back, feeling the vibration of the motorcycle’s powerful engine beneath her. The cool night air provided a sharp contrast to the warmth of his body.

  She loved it.

  At the next stop sign, he turned his head to ask, “Ready to cut loose?”

  Swallowing hard, she said, “Yes! Go for it.”

  His grin was wicked. “Okay, wild thing, but if it gets to be too much, squeeze my ribs, and I’ll slow down.”

  Then they were off and running, tearing down the back roads through the night. She suspected Spence was still holding back, keeping the bike to a more sedate pace than if he’d been alone, but it was plenty fast for her. Still, with her heart pounding in her chest, she held on tight and lost herself in the moment.

  They mostly had the road to themselves, which reminded her how late it was. She didn’t care. It might make for a long day tomorrow, but she was sure she wouldn’t regret one moment of this time. It wasn’t often a person got a chance to live out an old fantasy.

  After a few miles, she risked loosening her hold on Spence enough to sit up straighter. She smiled up at the clear night sky where the moon was nearly full and painted the world with its silvery glow. For the first time in months, maybe even years, her spirit soared with the stars overhead. It was as if the worries about her responsibilities toward her mother and the company, which were her constant companions, couldn’t keep up with the speeding motorcycle. She didn’t want the ride to end, but she knew that eventually Spence would turn back toward her house and her two-wheeled magical coach would morph back into a pumpkin.

  But for the time that it lasted, she savored the sweet taste of joyous freedom, and the moment was magical.

  • • •

  An hour later, Spence brought the bike to a halt about a block from her house. He looked down the street that led to her driveway and then down the cross street that would take him directly back to the cottage. It was as if he couldn’t make up his mind which way to go.

  “Spence, is something wrong?”

  He shook his head. “No, just thinking.”

  Up until they stopped, he’d seemed relaxed and appeared to enjoy the ride as much as she did. But now he felt tense and stiff as they finally turned into her driveway. He drove around to the back steps, maybe intending to cut across the back of the property to the cottage once he dropped her off. Maybe he was worried about how little sleep he was going to get.

  When he stopped the bike, she climbed off. Her legs threatened to collapse after the long ride, but she managed to catch herself. While she fumbled with the strap on the helmet, Spence set the kickstand on the bike and joined her standing on the patio. He took her helmet and his and set them both on the bike.

  He looked so serious when he asked, “You okay?”

  “I’m way better than okay. That was wonderful.”

  She gave in to the impulse to hug him. “I should be exhausted, but I feel great. I don’t know what made you decide to take me for a ride, but it was a wonderful idea.”

  After staring down at her for the longest time, he finally answered, “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

  That tension she noticed before was running hot again. “Spence? Is something wrong?”

  He pulled her closer with one arm. “No, the problem is that something is too right.”

  Before she could ask what he meant, he used his free hand to tilt her head back. His mouth came down on hers hard and fast. As he kissed her, he lifted her up and carried her across the patio to press her back against the side of the house, trapping her between the cool feel of the wood and the burning heat of Spence’s body.

  She caught his face with both of her hands and broke off the kiss long enough to whisper, “What’s my name?”

  He frowned but answered, “Melanie.”

  Okay, then. She smiled and kissed him this time, using the tip of her tongue to tease him into deepening the kiss. He groaned and lifted her higher, guiding her legs around his hips, bringing her core directly against his erection. She rocked against him, needing to get closer to him any way she could. As their tongues continued to dance, Melanie tugged his T-shirt up and splayed her hands directly on his back, loving the feel of all that warm skin and flexing muscle.

  When his hand slipped between them to cup her breast, she smiled against his mouth as he kneaded and squeezed the soft flesh. As good as it felt, it wasn’t enough. Too many layers of clothing separated them. She wanted to get skin to skin with him, and the sooner, the better. But not out here. The big wall that ran along the side of the property provided a certain degree of privacy, but it wasn’t in her to throw all sense of propriety to the wind.

  She reluctantly broke off the kiss again. “Spence, can we take this inside?”

  But rather than immediately starting for the staircase, he froze, his eyes wide and wild as he slowly lowered her to the ground. “Shit, I never meant for this to get so out of hand.”

  So much for romance and passion. Melanie tugged her blouse back down into place and tried to tame the tangled mess her hair had become. The last bit of joy left over from the motorcycle ride turned into a knot of pain in her stomach. “Sorry, Spence. Forget I said anything. You’d better go. We both have to work tomorrow.”

  When she tried to slide past him to make her escape, he caught her arm. “Don’t go, Mel. Not yet. Damn it, I’m making a royal mess of this.”

  She blinked back the burning in her eyes. “Don’t worry about it. We’ll just pretend the evening ended when I got off the bike and call it good.”

  Although what had come after had actually been the icing on the cake—or at least she’d thought so. Obviously, Spence had a different opinion.

  He muttered an obscenity and ran his hands over his close-cut hair in obvious frustration. She tried once again to reach the steps that led up to the back door, but he quickly planted those heavy boots he wore firmly between her and her one means of escape.

  “Melanie, let me explain.” He lifted his hand to caress the side of her face. “Please.”

  The simple touch threatened to stir the embers of passion back to a full burn. She stepped back to give herself space to breathe. “I’m listening.”

  “First off, believe me when I say there’s nothing I’d like more than to take this to its logical conclusion. My whole life went off the rails in Afghanistan, and what came afterward was a hell like I could never have imagined. Until I can put it all behind me, I’ve got no business getting involved, and especially with a woman like you. A lot of the reason I’ve even come this far back toward normal is our friendship. I don’t want to risk messing that up or hurting you.”

  She wanted to say that he wouldn’t, but her heart told her that he could, despite his best intentions. It might even be inevitable, considering how attracted she was to him. Why couldn’t he quit being so damn noble and finish what he’d started? But that stubborn streak of honor was at the core of who he was. On the surface, he looked so strong and self-assured, but every instinct she had said that underneath that brave exterior was a man who needed her.

  Deciding actions spoke more than words, she closed the small distance between them and slid her arms around his waist. She kept the hug gentle and friendly, careful to keep those embers carefully banked. “You’re a good man, Spencer Lang. Now you’d better head back to the cottage and try to get some sleep. I’ll see you at the factory tomorrow.”

  His arms tightened around her, nearly squ
eezing the breath out of her. “Good night, Mel. I enjoyed . . .” She felt him press a soft kiss to the top of her head. “Everything.”

  “So did I.”

  He stood watch while she made her way up to the landing by the back door. Before she stepped inside, she had one more thing she wanted to say. “Spence, when you’re ready, I hope we can finish what we started.”

  Then without waiting for him to respond, she closed the door and turned the lock. Standing in the dark kitchen, she watched Spence start up the Harley and disappear into the night. After a quick drink of juice, she went up to her room to get ready for bed. She had to be up in less than four hours, but she didn’t care. She’d enjoyed everything, too.

  Just as she pulled up the covers, her cell phone buzzed to tell her she had a new message. One glance at the screen had her grinning like a fool. It was from Spence, and all it said was Me, too.

  She was still smiling when sleep finally claimed her.

  • • •

  Morning came brutally early. The foreman at the millworks had called Spence at six thirty to tell him that he didn’t need to come in until eleven. Something about a rush order that they wouldn’t have ready to go until then. Despite his most determined efforts to relax, he remained awake after letting Mooch out, staring up at the ceiling and thinking about what it would have been like if he and Melanie had finished what they’d started last night. Hell, if his conscience had kept quiet, he could have spent the remaining few hours of the night making love with a beautiful woman. He could just picture Melanie beneath him in the bed, her fair skin flushed with passion. She’d made it clear that she was willing, so the only thing standing in the way was him.

  What an idiot!

  Except that he wasn’t talking about some random woman. This was Melanie Wolfe, the last heir to the Wolfe family legacy. She deserved better than a broken-down soldier with no idea where he’d come from. He’d been placed in foster care at age two after being abandoned by his mother, and the space for his father’s name on the birth certificate had been left blank. He’d been damn lucky to be adopted at all. It might have hurt when Uncle Vince called him a mongrel, but the man hadn’t been wrong.

  Most of the time, none of that bothered him, but right now he could use some deeply set roots, the kind other people took for granted. The war and all that had happened since had left him blowing in the wind. Once he got things settled about the house, he wasn’t even sure he wanted to stick around Snowberry Creek, the only home he’d ever known.

  All of this thinking was getting him nowhere. He threw back the covers and rolled out of bed. Maybe a shower would clear his head. In the bathroom, he winced at the sight of the hot pink poodle shower curtain. He really should replace the hideous thing, but that would make it feel as if he was starting to think of the cottage as more than a temporary haven. He’d left all the doilies in place for the same reason.

  After stripping off his boxers, he stepped into the stinging spray of the shower. Oh yeah, that felt good. He set the temperature just shy of scalding and let the steaming water work its magic. When the hot water was almost gone, he shut off the shower and toweled off. He had to go into work later, so he shaved and trimmed his buzz cut before pulling on his favorite jeans and a clean shirt.

  After heading into the kitchen, he considered his options for breakfast and settled on the last two pieces of a pepperoni pizza with a large glass of iced tea to wash them down. He took it all out onto the front porch to read the paper while Mooch sniffed around the yard, returning occasionally to make a halfhearted effort to see if Spence was willing to share.

  “Here, dog.” He tossed the last piece of crust to Mooch and then unfolded the paper. Every time it showed up on his porch, he grimaced and prayed Reilly Molitor hadn’t made good on his threat to write about Spence’s experiences in Afghanistan. He breathed a sigh of relief when his name wasn’t splashed across the front page of the Clarion.

  His luck might not hold forever, but the longer Reilly held off on running the story, the more emotionally prepared Spence would be to deal with it. At least that’s what he kept telling himself. He was about to start the crossword puzzle when a car slowed to a stop on the street in front of the cottage. At first, he thought he might have conjured Reilly up just by thinking about him.

  When he saw who was really climbing out of the car, he almost wished it had been the reporter dropping by for another visit. Callie, Nick, and Leif weren’t the only people Spence had been avoiding. Callie’s parents were also on that list, but his luck had just run out. At least it was only Mrs. Redding. He wasn’t sure he could have faced her husband, too.

  He set the paper aside and stood up. Mooch barked and wagged his tail like crazy the minute he spotted the woman crossing the lawn. She stopped to let the dog come to her and held out some kind of treat for him. Spence noticed she was careful to keep the plastic bag in her other hand out of Mooch’s reach. Hey, maybe she’d brought him a batch of his favorite chocolate chip cookies, not that he deserved them.

  When she finished petting Mooch, Spence stepped off the porch and right into the comfort of her embrace. It felt like coming home. She held him tight, and he was pretty sure she was crying. Shit, why was nothing ever easy?

  “I’m sorry, Mrs. Redding.”

  “Apology accepted.” She stepped back to study him, her cheeks stained with tears. “But since when have you called me anything other than Mama R.?”

  A lump of cold pain in the center of his chest started melting, but if anything, her easy acceptance made him feel worse. “All things considered, I wasn’t sure I still had the right. In fact, I’d feel better if you yelled at me or maybe punched me in the nose, especially after how I acted at Callie’s wedding.”

  Her hazel eyes, so like her daughter’s, filled with tears again. “Aw, Spence, honey, I’m not mad at you. Coming home to find her marrying Nick had to come as a shock. They know that, too. I’m just so glad you’re back home and in one piece. Given time, I’m sure we’ll fix whatever is wrong between you, Callie, and your army buddies. Right now all that really matters is that I got my boy back. God knows, thinking we’d lost you almost killed us, too.”

  Then she hugged him again. “Welcome home, Spence.”

  When she released him and stepped back, he made a show of eyeing the bag in her hand. “I don’t suppose that’s for me.”

  Mrs. Redding handed it over. “You know it is. I baked my chocolate chip cookies, but I also stuck in some oatmeal raisin and some snickerdoodles, too. Gotta fatten you up a bit.” He picked her up and swung her around and around. “You, lady, are a goddess among women! I’ve missed all those goodie boxes you and Callie used to send me.”

  After setting her back down, he peeked into the bag and did a quick count. There had to be at least six dozen cookies, and all just for him. Well, good manners dictated that he offer to share with Mama R., but no one else was going to get any. Not even Mooch.

  “Come on inside,” he said. “I’ll make a pot of coffee, and we can break out the goodies.”

  She followed him into the cottage. As soon as she stepped across the threshold and got a good look around, she started laughing. “I love what you’ve done with the place, Spence. If I’d known you liked doilies this much, I would’ve mailed you some with every goodie box I sent you. Just imagine how cozy they would’ve made your barracks. I’m sure all the other guys would have loved them, too.”

  “Yeah, right.” Spence grinned back at her. “Check out the poodle shower curtain in the pink bathroom. It’s so me.”

  He left her to explore the small house while he ground the beans for the coffee. When he was filling the coffeemaker with water, he heard the front door open and close. Where had she gone? After hitting the ON button, he stepped out on the porch to see Mama R. standing by the open hatchback on her car. She was in the process of picking up a pair of cardboard boxes. From the effort sh
e put into it, he had to guess they weren’t exactly light.

  He loped across the yard to help. “Let me get those for you.”

  She surrendered her burden and then closed up the car. “I brought more than cookies. Once I got started baking, I got to thinking about all your favorite things. I hope you have some freezer space. I’m afraid I went a little overboard.”

  He let her lead the way back to the house so she could open the door for him. “Don’t worry about that. Home cooking never goes to waste around me. I’d tell you that you shouldn’t have, but I’m not that noble, especially when it comes to your cooking.”

  Inside, she helped him unpack the two boxes, which contained a dozen different casserole dishes, all carefully labeled with what each one contained along with instructions on how to cook them. He’d be eating like a king for the foreseeable future.

  “I can’t thank you enough for doing this. Nobody cooks like you do, Mama R., and I should know. I’m surprised you never asked the attorney who watched over my inheritance for regular cash donations to your food budget.”

  She didn’t appreciate the humor. “Your parents were our best friends. The least I could do was make sure you got some decent hot meals. Looking back, I should’ve insisted on feeding Austin, too.”

  How did that jerk enter into this conversation? Mama R. knew how he felt about his cousin. Rather than say anything, he got out a plate and put a few of the cookies on it. After pouring each of them a mug of coffee, he offered her a seat at the small kitchen table.

  “Don’t think I missed your reaction to the mention of Austin’s name, Spence. Now isn’t the time to talk about him, but just know that he’s working hard to turn his life around, which is another miracle in itself. You’ll like the man he’s becoming.”

  He didn’t see that happening. “I’ll have to take your word for that.”

  “All I’m asking is that you give the boy a chance. You know full well how hard a time he’s had because of that awful father of his.”