Page 34

Chapter Thirty

T he pounding rain finally abated as Joe pulled up to Claire’s garage.

He got out of his truck, picked up the mixed bouquet of flowers he bought, and stared at her new home.

It wasn’t huge. It was a two-story combination of brick, cement block, with a wrought-iron balcony, but the big glass windows in front look made it look larger.

It fit Claire—modern with a touch of traditional thrown in.

He could hear the roar of the ocean. The salt air cleared his head.

Lights shining from the front windows welcomed him, and he could see Claire moving around inside.

They had met several times since she had been over to his house for dinner.

He tried to keep it light, but his desire for her was getting stronger and stronger.

Claire let it be known that she was interested and definitely wanted more.

Wanted him. He wasn’t ready, was he? Yes, he was.

He wanted to make sweet love to her. He wanted to take her on the kitchen table, pound into her as she screamed his name.

He wanted lots of things. He wanted Claire most of all, any way she would have him. Always had.

But she needed to find herself first, get comfortable in her new life. Perhaps she would find a man who fit into her world better than he. He rubbed his brow. Shit, what was he thinking? He would move heaven and earth to fit into her world. And beat the shit out of any man who pursued Claire.

Showtime. He walked up to the front door and rang the bell.

It echoed through the hall, and he heard Claire’s footsteps getting closer.

The door opened, and she was bathed in light, looking like an angel.

She was barefoot, her toes painted a pretty pink.

Her hair was in a messy bun. She wore a gauzy pair of pants that accentuated her long legs.

The turquoise off-the-shoulder top complemented her whiskey-brown eyes.

She gave him a big smile, reached out and pulled him into the house.

“Welcome. Come in.” Claire looked relaxed and happy.

He kissed her on the cheek and handed her the colorful bouquet. Her eyes lit up. “Oh, they’re beautiful. I have just the vase for them. Come on.” Joe followed her into a spacious kitchen—lots of granite and upgrades. Various rooster pictures hung on the wall. He had forgotten she loved roosters.

“Wow.”

She smiled. “I know.” She glanced around. “Sam’s friend inherited this and didn’t need it, so he sold it to me for a fair price. Still, I probably paid more than I should have, but I fell in love with the location and light.”

“I bet it’s beautiful in the daylight. Show me around.”

She took his hand. Warmth, home. Damn, he had it bad.

After pointing out the patio that faced the ocean, she led him up the staircase.

There was a guest bedroom and a study that she had turned into a studio that had another deck that opened to the ocean.

Canvases were in various states of being finished.

Big, beautiful, bold canvases. Sunrises over the ocean, people on the beach, waves, and palm trees—all in her unique style .

“Wow again.”

“I’ve been inspired. Do you like them? It’s so different from what I painted when I was younger.” She bit her lip. “I feel free.”

“Your paintings reflect that.”

“Come, I’ll show you the master.”

Joe followed her to the other side of the house.

She opened the door. He stepped into paradise.

White shiplap walls, turquoise accents on a king-size bed, French doors that opened to another patio.

He could hear the ocean waves crashing in the background.

It was warm and inviting. He wanted to take her right here, right now.

No. He was not a horndog. Yes. He was. He wanted to strip her right here.

Watch her nipples pucker with the cold. He wanted to suck each little painted toe, then work his way up her body.

Kissing and sucking. He wanted her to scream his name as he entered her.

He wanted to … Damn, he needed to stop thinking like this.

Nothing was happening tonight. Joe grappled with his feelings as he watched Claire happily show him around.

“Joe?”

He startled. Had she been talking to him and he wasn’t listening? Of course, he wasn’t listening. He was too busy visualizing Claire naked, moaning with desire.

“I’m listening.”

She cocked her head, narrowed her eyes and zoned in on him. “Hmmm.”

Did she catch him imagining her naked on the bed? His cock was almost waving a white flag. Did she notice?

She looked him up and down and winked. Oh, yes, she did . Damn. So much for keeping it to himself and in his pants.

“Dinner is almost ready. Why don’t we go downstairs?”

Yes, please. Yes, before he shot his load in his pants and truly embarrassed himself.

When Claire opened the door, it took all her self-control not to jump Joe.

What was wrong with her? She had only been a widow for a short time.

Although being married to a man who didn’t love her and abused her didn’t count.

She was a widow in name only. She wanted Joe.

It was ten years in the making. She had fallen in love with him the first time they met, when he had defended her against those boys trying to attack her.

They tried to keep their feelings in check.

She knew Joe didn’t feel like he could offer her anything.

When he left her so many years ago, she had been heartbroken and so angry with him.

The anger went away with age when she realized that she needed to let him go into the world to find himself.

Mending her broken heart had been harder.

She finally filed it away in the broken hearts box, knowing that he would be better off without her.

He found himself, all right. Tall, handsome, built like a … well, just built. Kind, smart, and honorable. She liked him. Well, she loved him, but he wasn’t ready for her love. Her parents liked him. His coworkers liked him. Too bad he didn’t always like him.

She kept throwing herself at him, and he kept resisting.

Well, she was nothing but patient, and she wanted him.

It was just a matter of time. Tonight? Maybe.

He stared longingly at the bed when he thought she wasn’t looking.

He had been so cute and embarrassed when she caught him and saw that his cock was hard and pressing against the zipper of his pants. Yum!

They went downstairs, and she told him they were eating on the patio. Claire had set up a small table out of the ocean breeze. She placed several lit candles on the table, which created an intimate effect. Perfect for what she had in mind.

Joe sat down, and she brought out some wine, poured it and handed him a glass.

“Claire, this is a beautiful spot. I’m so happy for you. A toast then.” He raised his glass to her. “To the most beautiful, kind, sweet…” He winked. “And sexy woman I know.”

Claire felt her face getting hot. “Hmmm, I like the sound of that.” She tilted her head and licked her lips. Then she slipped her shoe off and started rubbing Joe’s leg.

His eyes widened. He exhaled loudly and took a gulp of a glass of water. Placed the glass down and groaned. “You’re killing me here.”

“I hope so.”

Joe only shook his head and changed the subject.

They talked about their week as they finished off the garlic butter steak, mashed potatoes, and peas she made—all his favorites. Now time for dessert.

An hour later Joe said goodbye and gave Claire a small kiss on the cheek.

She shut the door. However, Joe couldn’t make himself get into his truck.

He stood and faced Claire’s closed front door, and wasn’t that just the perfect metaphor for his life?

What he wanted, no, needed was on the other side.

What he had was a closed door. All he had to do was open the door, but he was afraid.

Afraid of hurting her. Afraid of getting hurt himself.

Afraid of going forward. His heart pounded in beat with all the excuses he was making about why he didn’t ring the bell.

He closed his eyes. Took a deep breath, slowed his raging heart. Enough.

He was taking what he wanted tonight. He pushed the bell.

Heard it ring inside. He didn’t have to wait seconds.

Just like before, Claire was bathed in the light, looking like an angel.

She searched his eyes. For what? It must have been there because she reached for him, drew him into the house.

Took the plate with the rest of the cake she had given him to take home and placed it on the table, held his hand as she led him upstairs. Neither saying a word.

An upbeat song was playing in the background. His heart thumped in tune to the bass. Why was this making him so nervous? Claire wasn’t a virgin. He had sex before, but nothing ever affected him this hard before. However, this was Claire. His first and only love.

She led him back into the master bedroom.

The French doors were open. He could hear the ocean crashing.

He felt the wind as it moved the curtains and swirled around him.

He could smell the salt spray. He saw the want in her eyes.

He let his guard down and let her see his soul.

The perfect scenario for wild, passionate love.

She held him and reached for his shirt; he brushed her hands away. She reached for his zipper.

“No.”

She cocked her head. “No?”

He saw the disappointment in her eyes. “Claire, we are taking it slow. If it takes me all night, I will not make love to you until I’m satisfied that you’re satisfied.” He brought her chin up and looked into her eyes. “Understood?”

“Mmmm.” She brought her hands down and stood there. He took a moment to savor her from head to toes.

“Mmmm is right.” He reached for her top. “May I?”

She nodded.