Page 22 of Perfectly Matched: Harbor Falls Romance Collection

Matt swore under his breath but was secretly glad the lights went out. With Shelley standing there in his cabin, his heart pounded, and he wasn’t quite sure how he would get through the evening. Now, perhaps, in the dark, he might be able to survive a little better.

Although he really did not want to lose power, the cover of darkness felt safe. He knew the fireplace would keep them warm and he had enough food and water to sustain them until this storm passed. He had a backup generator but didn’t relish the idea of traipsing out back to the shed in this storm to kick it into action. If he had to, he would, but for the moment, he preferred staying put.

“Stay still,”

he told Shelley and started toward her.

“I think we can see well enough with the fire. Maybe it will come back on in a minute.”

He doubted it, sure that a low-hanging branch weighted down too heavy with snow, had ripped the power line from the side of the house. Easy enough fix, but not tonight. He’d see to it tomorrow but knowing that tomorrow was Christmas day, and given the conditions of the mountain road, getting a power truck up here seemed unlikely.

Matt grasped her elbow.

“Let’s sit by the fire.”

He wanted to say, We need to talk, but didn’t.

He led her there and settled her on the raised hearth.

“This feels good,”

she said.

“Maybe the heat will dry my jeans.”

Dammit, he hadn’t noticed that her clothes were wet. Glancing down at himself, he was in the same boat.

“Hell, I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking. Let me see if I can find us something dry to put on.”

He left her by the fire and trekked off to his bedroom. Thoughts flew through his head like a house afire. One glance back as he entered his bedroom door and his heart began a slow thrum. He left the door open so partial light from the fire would give some illumination in the darkened room.

Shelley was here in his cabin. Not his plan, yet it had happened, and he had to deal with it. But how?

He found his chest of drawers in the low light and fumbled through a couple of drawers. Hell, he had nothing small enough to fit her, did he?

Finally, he brought up a smaller pair of jogging pants and an old high school sweatshirt. Smiling, he wondered if she’d remember it. He quickly changed himself, grabbed the clothes for her, and stopped abruptly at his bedroom door to observe her silhouette against the fire.

The flame flickered over her blond tresses, setting off a fiery halo around her head. She threaded her fingers through her hair, fluffing to dry the length. His breath caught in his throat.

He knew at that moment that he still loved her. Had never stopped.

Hell, he’d always known he’d loved her but had kept his heart locked and safe while she was gone. He hadn’t let his emotions rest on that fact for any length of time over the years. He’d been working o.

“getting over her”

as he’d been told to do by his guy friends, and an occasional date, and his family.

But he’d never, truly, been able to get over her. She’d lingered in the back of his heart. No one ever come close to touching that part of his heart and he’d guarded it and kept it safe—just in case she ever did come back into his life.

And now here she was. Back. In the place they’d dreamed about for their future. Where he’d dreamed she might someday come back to.

But could he trust her?

Could he trust himself?

He wasn’t so damned sure he could guard his heart now that she was here.

Had only he’d been ready to be a husband, to give her what she wanted and needed all those years ago—a home, family, children, the goddamned picket fence and all that—then maybe she wouldn’t have run off into some other man’s willing and able arms. Some guy who was what she thought she wanted at the time.

But no, he hadn’t been ready then, couldn’t handle those responsibilities. They were too young. He wasn’t ready to take on what his father had at a young age and had died trying to keep intact. They’d grown up poor and his father worked his fingers to the bone to support them. Without a college degree, he’d labored hard. Even at nineteen, Matt knew he’d be damned if he would do the same thing for his future family. His path was different. He would go to college, get the degree, and provide for his future family without struggling.

Back then, he’d desperately wanted to give Shelley everything. She was the only woman he wanted.

But she couldn’t wait… And he wouldn’t change his plans.

Suddenly, he realized there was nothing he could do about the past, but he damn well could make some alterations to his future. Their future. If he could only let go of the hurt, the lack of trust.

Physically, he was a strong man. Could his heart be strong enough to risk the emotion again?

****

“See if these will work. I’m sure they are much too big but at least you’ll be dry and warm.”

His soft voice came to her on a whisper. Shelley’s gaze drifted up to meet his. He thrust something toward, her but she didn’t see what. Clothes perhaps? All she could see was the fire reflecting in his deep brown eyes looking down at her.

Warm, inviting, lonely.

She’d been such a fool. Young and naive. And for the few minutes he was gone, she had stared into the fireplace and realized just that.

She didn’t regret marrying Cliff and she loved her girls to no end. But she did regret all the pain and hurt she’d caused so many people.

Swallowing hard over a growing lump in throat, she rose and stepped closer to Matt. Gathering up the clothes he held out to her, she clutched them to her chest but never let her stare waver from his. She peered deeper.

“I know I’ve said this once, but I’m going to say it again. I’m so sorry, Matt,”

she whispered.

“For everything.”

Something broke in his expression and she waited while his gaze played over her face, searching, probing. It landed on her lips, and then lifted to catch her stare again.

An overwhelming desire to rush forward, lift her face to his and kiss him came over her. She tamped it back. No, she could not do that. He was angry with her. Hated her. She was stuck with him here and who knew what his reaction might—

He reached out and skimmed his fingertips along her cheek and jawline, and a burst of pleasure sped through her, confusing her even more.

“Matt…”

she squeaked out.

In one swift moment, he grasped the clothing from her hands, tossed them away, and hauled her up against him. His mouth came down hard on hers and she gasped at the sensation. Firm and determined, he kissed her thoroughly, his hands at her back holding her against his chest, his lips playing over hers, his tongue searching for more.

The unleashed passion boiling up in her was like an answer to a long-awaited prayer—an urgent yearning suppressed and set free. It was like a piece of her heart had been put back in her chest—a piece that she didn’t know was missing until that very moment. Heat welled up until she thought her chest would burst.

She was kissing Matt. Matt! Not her high school boyfriend, but Matt, the man. The one she’d left behind. And unless she was mistaken, he was hungry for more.

But… But what could this lead to? Where could it go?

Those thoughts dissipated as his mouth left her lips and trailed lazily down her neck in a sensual rhythm. A deep sigh escaped his lips. She melted against him.

“Let’s get you out of these wet clothes.”

His voice was deep and raspy against the crook of her neck and shoulder.

Shelley pulled back and searched his face. She wondered if he could read her question. Should they?

With a forefinger on her lips, he shook his head.

“Don’t…talk. Let’s…”

This time she was the one who sprung forward and met his lips in a sensual embrace. No words. No thoughts. Only lips communicating with lips, bodies speaking to bodies.

They tumbled to the floor in front of the fireplace, landing on a plush rug. Matt shoved the coffee table out of the way and pulled an afghan down from the sofa. She lay on her back, looking up at him as he cradled her close and stared into her eyes.

The fire made the ambience perfect. Soft flickers of flame wrapped them in a sultry glow. Perfect, perfect…

But it couldn’t be perfect, could it?

That second came and went as he reached for the placket of her shirt and unbuttoned in a lazy, southerly direction. His fingertips grazed the tender skin of her breasts, along her tummy, all the way down. His gaze never left hers.

She shivered at his touch and the fire within gathered to meet the one raging beside her in the hearth.

She wanted him. After all this time. And he…he wanted her, too?

Yes. He did.

Matt pushed the shirt off her shoulders, and she lifted slightly while he removed and tossed it aside. The heat from the fireplace warmed her but as soon as he placed his palm over one of her breasts and kneaded, she knew that fire was insignificant compared to the one burning deep in her belly.

The next seconds were filled with a frenetic tangle of limbs and peeling off damp clothing, searching for and taking care of a condom, frenzied breaths, and frantic kisses.

“Your skin is so cold, Shelley. Come here,”

he rasped, and covered her body with his.

“Let me warm you up.”

She nodded against his lips, fused with hers.

Their bodies came together, and Shelley knew that the skin-to-skin contact they shared had never felt so good. Scorching against her, his body covered hers and she opened for him. She relished in the feel of his length, the caress against her folds, and realized that this coming together of their bodies for the first time in years was far superior to simple skin-to-skin contact. She ached for him and eagerly took him. His body rocked into hers and they melded together despite the years of anguish and hurt.

From that moment on, any doubt, any question, any insane thought that she shouldn’t be exactly where she was at this moment in time, vanished.

****

With a deep inhale, Matt breathed in Shelley’s scent as he sank into her. Dizzy with the sensation, he settled his face against her hair and stilled for only a second as he reveled in the feel of being inside her again. His thoughts didn’t linger except for one.

This was right. Yes. This was right…

He thrust deeper as she whimpered and urged him on, her legs wrapped around him, her fingertips grazing his back.

He wanted to savor, linger, slowly bring her to climax, and then spill himself inside her. His body took over, however, and did the opposite. As did hers. She gasped and clenched her thighs around him as he moved in and out. He growled in her ear. He couldn’t stop pumping. Filling her. Feeling her velvet insides pulling him deeper. Wouldn’t stop. No. This beautiful thing that was them, together, moved him in ways that took him from the past to the present and back again.

“Oh…oh, Matt….”

His whispered name on her lips was nearly his undoing.

Hold on. Hold on…

She trembled and gasped in short pants, digging her fingernails into his back, her legs clamping him to her, while she shuddered beneath him. The sounds, her whimpers of satisfaction, gratified him. He’d always loved giving her pleasure. Simultaneously, he groaned his eruptive release and pushed one last time into her, her quaking body settling around him like a caress.

Melting into her, he wasn’t quite sure where he ended, and she began.