Page 40 of Perfectly Matched: Harbor Falls Romance Collection

Katie felt the tingles race up the back of her calves about the same time she realized Chris was behind her. It wasn’t the first time he’d slipped into the library and they’d had mad, crazy sex in the stacks. Still angry and confused, but turned on at the same time, she wasn’t sure which emotion to push away. Not today. Sex wasn’t happening today. In the stacks, or between her sheets. She had to resist.

He took another step up the ladder and his left hand moved to her thigh, inching up inside her skirt.

“No pantyhose, good girl.”

“You know I hate pantyhose.”

“What about panties?”

One hand smoothed over her bare hip under her skirt.

“You know I don’t do panties. You shouldn’t be here,”

she whispered.

“That never stopped you before,”

he replied.

“I’m really mad at you.”

He rose higher and pressed her against the ladder. His breath was hot on her neck.

“That never stopped you before,”

he repeated, nibbling behind her ear.

He was right. Dammit.

And he was hard. His hand snaked up to her waist, raising her skirt. The hot length of him scorched her bare backside.

His lips branded the side of her neck.

“Umhm. Shit, you are hot.”

“Hot and mad.”

“Forget about that.”

Forget about it? How could she do that? Her brain always went to mush when he was around.

“Are you insane?”

“No, just crazy for you. C’mon, Katie. Let’s talk about what happened. You won’t answer my calls.”

“For a very good reason.”

“I want to be inside you.”

Her breathing quickened. “No.”

“Katie….”

Sandwiched between his body and the ladder, she felt precariously perched. Like between a rock and a hard place. The rock being the fact that she was mad as hell at him, and the hard place being, well, his hard place.

Which she wanted like there was no tomorrow. But no.

“Sex the other night didn’t solve anything Chris. Did it? It’s not going to solve anything today, either.”

He chuckled and nuzzled her neck from behind.

“It will solve both of us getting our rocks off.”

“And a few weeks ago, that would have been fine but not now. Get down, Chris. If you want to talk, we will talk. But not like this.”

He chuckled. She thought she heard the quick whiz of his zipper. Twisting back as much as she could, she looked him square in the eyes and said.

“No. I mean it.”

She wanted him. She really did. And precariously perched here on the library ladder was exactly the kind of excitement she liked, no craved, when it came sex. She liked to be daring and bold and risky. But not today. The ladder squeaked and rocked beneath them and she trembled with the instability of their stance and the potential danger of the situation. It only made her want him more. She craved an orgasm.

She’d be working overtime with her vibrator tonight.

The shelf creaked.

Chris rocked methodically against her backside.

She exhaled, reached back, dug her fingers into his thigh, and squeezed.

“Damn you,”

she hissed.

“You love it,”

he groaned.

“You wish.”

Chris pinned her tighter to the ladder. The thing shifted and scooted to the right.

“Gonna fall,”

she breathed.

“I have you.”

He drew her closer into his embrace.

“I’ll keep you safe. Won’t let you fall, babe.”

Without warning, tears pricked behind her eyelids. Safe. Yes. Since the beginning of their relationship, he had made her feel safe.

“If you fall, we both fall,”

she said quietly, then wondered about the subtle undertones to the words she had just said.

Chris whispered against the back of her neck.

“Honey, I’ve already fallen. You know that. I just need for you to fall with me.”

Again, she pushed out a breath and tried to steady herself.

“Chris, please,”

she whispered.

He hesitated, sighed, and then moved.

“All right, Katie. I’m backing down now,”

he told her.

“Stay still until I’m on the floor. Don’t worry. I’m right behind you.”

He smoothed his hands over her backside, adjusting her skirt as he descended. Katie missed having him so close. His warmth left her back and suddenly, she didn’t like that feeling. It was somewhat nice, him having her back.

“C’mon down, Katie,”

he said softly.

“I’m right here.”

Yes. And that was the problem. He was there and he wasn’t going away, was he? And she’d fallen into the trap of his potent sexual appeal. Maybe his love.

She backed down the ladder and in one motion, Chris spun her around to face him and kissed her mouth. She didn’t, couldn’t, resist.

The kiss—delivered long, slow, and with a sensual urgency—left her lips tingling.

Breaking away, Chris pulled back, looking into her face. Katie let their gazes mingle while her heartstrings tangled with her brain. No one had ever looked at her, or kissed her, like he did. Always with such intensity. Love? It was confusing as hell. He brushed a stray lock of hair from her forehead and looked deeper into her eyes, unflinching. She saw longing and hope and a little bit of hurt in their reflection.

“Pick you up at eight?”

he said softly.

“We can talk. Then how about a movie and makeup sex later?”

He waggled his brows.

Her insides battled her response. Before she could contemplate the right answer, she blurted out.

“No, Chris...”

“Katie…”

She put him at arm’s length, shaking her head.

“No. No movie. No makeup sex. Please, Chris, give me some space. I need time to adjust to all of this.”

He stepped back and stared, looking her up and down.

“I don’t want to argue with you, Katie.”

She nodded.

“I know. I don’t want to argue either.”

“So, what are we going to do?”

She blew out a breath.

“You are going to let this idea about getting married go for a while, and I’m going to process.”

He shook his head.

“Not happening.”

“You have to Chris.”

Still shaking his head, he said.

“No. Because the moment I let it go, you will get other ideas. I am not giving up. I plan to be in your face until you agree to talk this through. If that’s not this morning, or this evening, fine, but Katie Long, just know that I am here to stay. I am not going to let you forget that I love you and that I want to marry you. I’ll leave now but make no mistake, I will bug you to the ends of hell and back if I have to until we come to some sort of resolution.”

She stared back.

“Even if it’s not the one you want?”

Katie felt the intensity of his returned glare.

“That’s not going to happen.”

****

Chris left the library, exhaling long as the heavy wooden door came to an unsatisfyingly soft close behind him. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he glanced across the street to Sydney’s place and thought about heading over just so he could sit in his usual spot, drink a pot of coffee, and stare at the library waiting for Katie to leave—then he realized how pitiful and stalker-like that sounded.

She wanted space. Time. Watching her like a hawk wasn’t going to do that and it wasn’t good for him either. He needed to retreat for a few hours.

It was Saturday afternoon and he was off duty for the rest of the day. As he headed for his patrol car in the parking lot, he contemplated how he could fill up the next several so he wouldn’t dwell on Ms. Katie Long too much. He needed a distraction.

He could bug the guys down at the station, but they would ask too many questions he didn’t want to answer. Maybe he could head over to the Youth Center and challenge some kids to a game of basketball. That might be a good way to burn off some pent-up steam and sounded like a good idea. Besides, he liked to connect with the kids when he could. Most of them needed a positive male role model and he occasionally filled that role with a few of them.

Decision made, he headed toward his car when some commotion and chatter across the street caught his ear. His gaze swung toward Rick’s Cafe and he watched a pack of older women wander from the gift shop next door—a place called Romantically Yours that was owned by Sydney’s sister, he’d recently learned—and into the bar and grill. Pausing, he studied the five ladies as they rattled on.

He’d seen them before while drinking his coffee and socializing at Sugar High. Most Saturday mornings they headed into the gift shop about ten o’clock in the morning, stayed there for a couple of hours, and then about noon they would head over to Rick’s place.

This town and its people sure did have their quirks.

He’d not been in Harbor Falls long—two years, he’d learned from many of the residents, was not long enough to be called local yet—but he’d gotten a feel for the makeup of the town and the close-knit relationships of the townsfolk. He knew that was something that would take him a while to achieve but he was determined he would.

“In about twenty years,”

Matt had told him once. Chris scoffed but knew he likely spoke the truth.

Glancing at the town clock, Chris realized it was past his lunchtime. Perhaps he’d head over to Rick’s and get a bite himself before basketball but then nixed that idea as he crossed North Main Street and drifted toward the gift shop instead. Without much thought at all, he went inside.

A tall, pretty woman looked up from behind the counter as he crossed the threshold and stepped into the shop.

“Good afternoon,”

she said.

“May I help you?”

It was Sydney’s sister, he knew. She occasionally stopped into Sugar High for a skinny mocha. Funny how one quickly learned townsfolks’ morning beverages of choice. Chris glanced around the shop. Froo-froo met him from every angle as he blinked to let his eyes adjust to the low light and subtle ambiance.

“Hello,”

he said, stepping on inside.

“I think I’m just looking. I’m Chris Marks.”

The woman smiled.

“Yes. I know. You’re on the police force. I see you most mornings next door.”

He smiled and chuckled.

“I’m sure. I’m addicted to Sydney’s pastries.”

A half-grin crossed the woman’s face. She put out her hand out as Chris approached the counter.

“I’m Gracie Hart Price. Sydney’s sister.”

Chris took her hand and shook it.

“Wow, the Harts are everywhere.”

He laughed.

“I’m friends with Matt Branson on the force. I guess his wife Shelley is your…?”

He paused.

“Cousin,”

Gracie said.

“Shelley and Suzie are sisters. Sydney and I are sisters. Our mothers are sisters so we’re cousins.”

She laughed then and finished fiddling with some tags on the counter.

“The four of us had a grand old time growing up, I tell you. We gave our parents and grandparents a run for their money, that was for certain.”

Nodding, Chris could understand that.

“Four girls and I’d say you’re all about the same age, right?”

“Yes. All four born within three years. We were a mighty little force of estrogen.”

She laughed again.

“What can I do for you today, Chris?”

He glanced about the shop again, then back to Gracie.

“To be perfectly honest, Gracie, I don’t know. But first I have a question.”

“Sure. What’s can I help you with?”

He leaned into the counter.

“I’m curious, really. Totally none of my business but what’s up with the group of ladies that just left?”

He ticked his head toward the door.

Gracie leaned toward Chris too, resting her elbows on the glass countertop.

“Oh, it’s so secret,”

she whispered.

He cocked an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“Umhmm.”

Gracie nodded, and then glanced about, putting her finger to her lips.

“Sh. It’s the weekly book club.”

Then she rose and laughed.

Chris chuckled too.

“Book club, huh? Then lunch at Rick’s Cafe?”

“Exactly. We like to keep business in the family. My husband owns the cafe next door, you know?”

Chris had experienced a few happy hours there with Katie.

“Yes, great food, good company. Local crowd.”

“He prides himself on all three.”

Chris did know that Rick was her husband. Gracie stepped around the counter and headed toward a table of stationery and paper items. He watched her smooth movements and decided she was aptly named. The tall, willowy woman, he’d heard, used to be a dancer.

“Quirky bunch aren’t they?”

he finally said.

“Oh yes. The stories…”

Gracie waved a hand and turned, her eyes big and round, a mannerism that southern women pull off so well.

“Why, I could go on and on about those ladies but I’m sure you don’t have time and… What were you looking for coming in here, Mr. Marks?”

He had no clue.

“Like I said, I’m not sure. I hope you can help.”

“Are you looking for a gift? A card? I have a variety of eclectic items and an assortment of useless trinkets.”

She rounded the counter and glanced about.

“All in the name of love, of course.”

She did indeed have a unique collection.

“I buy from all over the world,”

she added.

“Some things are antique, some modern, some items just funky and quirky. All totally romantic. I ship anywhere for a price and will deliver locally.”

That last part piqued his interest. “Deliver?”

She smiled.

“Of course. My husband comes in handy that way at times.”

She headed deeper into the store.

“So, are you looking for a gift for a girlfriend? Potential girlfriend? An I’m-sorry gift, or a let’s-make-up gift?”

He thought about that.

“I think I could safely say that covering all of those bases would probably be a good thing.”

She laughed and poked through some items on a shelf.

“Do you have any idea how often I hear that?”

Chris could only imagine.

“Hm. Let’s see,”

she continued.

“Something sweet? Something sexy? Something serious. Something…”

She paused, still looking, moving things around. “Or…”

She turned back and grinned again, lifting a scrap of lacy fabric off the table and dangling it on her fingertip.

“Something a little more wicked?”

She winked.

Chris watched her turn and head toward a rack of skimpy lingerie.

“Something a little more wicked would be perfect,”

he told her. I think. How did he know any more with Katie? Then as an afterthought, he added.

“Wicked but sophisticated at the same time. Is that possible?”

Smiling, she crooked her finger.

“I have the perfect thing.”

****

Katie knew Chris wasn’t kidding about being persistent, but she hadn’t expected this long of a drought without contact. It had been hours since she’d seen him earlier in the day and he’d not called. Not once. It was starting to get a little pathetic that she kept looking at her cell phone to see if he’d left a text or a voice mail.

Nope. She guessed he’d changed his mind and was leaving her alone.

And she’d asked for that, so why was she concerned?

No, she hadn’t asked, she had demanded. It appeared he had listened.

But this radio silence was a little unsettling. The lack of communication hadn’t given her time to think—in fact, her brain just kept rolling around the notion that he hadn’t called.

What good was that?

No good. None at all.

Pathetic was right.

At seven o’clock that evening, she decided to take a shower and get into her nightgown. With no plans, and no prospects of anyone coming over, she just wanted to get comfortable and chill for a while. Finished with her shower about twenty minutes later, she returned to her living room and out of habit, glanced at her cell phone.

Groan. No calls. No texts.

She heaved a huge sigh that puffed out her cheeks.

Time. She needed time. She’d told him that and he was evidently going respect her wishes and listen to what she wanted. And while she missed him terribly, and felt a little unsettled not hearing from him, she needed this time to think. Plan. Figure out what the hell she was going to do.

If she could only concentrate on that. Distraction was eating up her thinking time.

What the hell am I going to do?

She glanced to the sofa and then the television. Watch a movie, that’s what. I am going to settle into my sofa with an afghan and a bowl of popcorn and my cat. And for a couple of hours, I’m going stick my head deep in the sand and pretend none of this is happening.

Ostrich. She just wanted to be a freaking ostrich for a while. Pulling the afghan up around her, she reached for her remote control. Her cell rang and without thinking, she picked it up, glanced to the face and saw Chris’s name, and hit the talk button.

She held her breath and didn’t say a word.

“Katie?”

She remained silent, not sure what to say.

“Katie, honey, can we talk now? Look, we’ll do this on your terms. I’ll stop pushing. I’m willing to give you space and I’m trying really hard. You just have to tell me what those terms are. Okay?”

Sighing, she listened but didn’t respond. After a moment, he started talking again.

“Can I come over and we just talk this through?”

Katie’s chest was taut. She wanted to inhale and let out another huge breath, but her lungs wouldn’t cooperate. Her chest felt too tight. If she said yes to his question, they were in for a night of discussion, and then probably sex, and that wasn’t what they needed right now. Besides, she didn’t know if she was up for any of it. If she said no—and if she kept saying no—would he finally give up and go away?

Was that what she wanted? No. Not really.

“My terms?”

she asked.

He quickly responded.

“Yes, honey. You call the shots.”

She would call the shots. That’s what she wanted right? Or was it?

So confusing.

“I don’t know. Let me think about it, Chris.”

She heard him start to say something, but his voice was gone as soon as she hit the end call button.

Immediately, her phone pinged with a text message. I love you, Chris had typed.

“I love you too,”

she whispered.

She turned off the sound on her phone and tossed it to the other end of the sofa. Plucking up a piece of popcorn, she drew the afghan around her and punched at the remote control to start the movie. Her cat, Molly Mae, carefully stepped across the cover and curled into her side. Katie scratched the back of her Calico head.

Then her doorbell rang. Shit. Was he outside on her porch? If so, she wasn’t in the mood for this and felt her temper flare a little. She unwrapped herself from the afghan and untangled from the cat, crossed the room, grabbed the front door handle and jerked the thing open, and said loudly.

“I told you—”

She stopped. It wasn’t Chris standing on her porch.

A man stared and said.

“Katie Long? I have a delivery.”

“Oh?”

The wind yanked out of her sails; she was quite discombobulated.

“Yes. I’m Katie.”

“Here you go. Enjoy.”

He smiled and handed her a fancy-wrapped box, complete with pretty red and pink bows and a card taped to the top. She took it.

“Thank you.”

The man tipped his head and turned, jogging down her porch steps. She watched him walk the length of her sidewalk and get into a car. Then finally, she looked to the gift in her hands and shut the door.

Inside, she moved back to the sofa and set the box on the ottoman. She drew the afghan back around her and stared at the box for several long minutes. Molly Mae crept back into her lap and she mindlessly stroked the cat’s head. Obviously, the gift was from Chris. What had he gone and done now? Did she want to look tonight, or wait until tomorrow?

Pushing out a breath, she set the popcorn aside and reached for the box. Slowly, she peeled off the ribbons and tape, then before going any further, opened the card and read it.

I can’t wait to see this on you. Love, Chris.

Sighing, she went back to her task. The lid gone now, she pushed back filmy pink tissue paper to reveal a pretty, red silky nightgown.

She lifted it out of the box, tears stinging her eyes. The gown was low cut with spaghetti straps and very form fitting. Classy and sexy.

Like I’ll be able to wear this in a month.

Without warning, she burst into tears. “Dammit!”

Katie jumped up. The afghan and box fell. Popcorn bounced on the hardwood floors. Molly Mae skittered off toward the bedroom.

“I don’t freakin’ cry! What the hell is wrong with me?”

Collapsing again on the couch, she let out another sob.

“Hormones. Stupid, stupid, baby hormones.”

Snatching up the afghan, she cocooned herself inside and lay in a fetal position on the sofa. It was a poor attempt at blocking out the world, she knew, and one that wouldn’t work anyway because all her troubles were inside the darned thing.