Page 7 of Coming Undone

Yeah. He remembered that about her. They’d taken midnight swims in the pool at her townhouse those days they’d spent together on Long Island. Sat in the Jacuzzi tub for hours.

“Maybe we can hit the beach sometime when it’s not such a surprise.” He scooped up his shoes as they hit the shore, then guided her back toward the patio and into the house. “Let me get you a towel.”

He saw a blanket on the back of the couch and grabbed that instead. Wrapping her up in blue fleece, he assessed the damage. Her eyes were focused. Clear. Her color seemed better. And he would make damn sure it stayed that way.

“You want a shower while I put the food on the table?” He gestured down the hall while they dripped on the rug near the French doors. “There’s a bathroom off the spared bedroom on the right. It connects to a walk-in closet that has some extra clothes. You can grab a t-shirt or whatever you need out of there.”

“Sounds good.” She gave a firm nod, as if she was as determined as him to put the incident in the water behind them. “Thank you.”

Her gaze roamed over his face, slowing at his mouth, lingering there. Was she thinking about that kiss they’d shared too? He still couldn’t believe what he’d agreed to out in the Bay with her. In a perfect world, they’d take things slow and easy. Not rush into anything. But if she kept up those long looks of hers… he’d be hard-pressed to be the sensible one.

* * *

Sliding into one of Danny’s t-shirts, Stephanie paused to bury her nose in the cotton at one shoulder. Granted, she probably only smelled laundry detergent. But there was something about wearing a man’s clothes that made her feel sexy and safe at the same time. Like having some of Danny’s strength around her 24/7.

Wouldn’t that be addicting if she wasn’t careful?

She pushed the wicker basket full of clean shirts back into the custom-built closet cubby, reminding herself that part of the reason Danny seemed like a safe choice right now was the fact that he’d only be home for a few weeks. She hadn’t known that his time home would be that quite that short, but she’d known it was inevitable he’d go back to sea for his job. No chance of getting in over her head with a guy due to leave before the month’s end.

Raking through her tangled hair with a wide comb she’d found in a drawer by the sink, Stephanie peered in another wicker basket and found a stack of running shorts. She dug deeper until she spied a gray pair with a draw string waist that might cinch enough to fit. Her underwear was soaked, so she’d have to go commando. Which might be fine down below, but up top? She stepped from the closet back into the bathroom and checked her reflection. A second t-shirt was definitely in order if she wanted to give the girls halfway decent coverage.

Snagging a second white T, she pulled it over her head, determined to enjoy her time with Danny from this moment forward. She’d freaked out in the water, but she was done with that now.

Yes, she’d been kidnapped while she was overseas a few months after she’d first met Danny. Her assignment had turned hellish in a hurry. The family who’d grabbed her and reporter Christina Marcel had been coerced into doing so. Apparently, the family had angered insurgents the week before when their oldest son had met with Christina to be interviewed for a story on the effects of the fighting on the citizens. Furious that the young man had talked to American reporters, extremists had killed the son and demanded the family follow abduct the reporters or risk seeing another one of their sons gunned down. The family hadn’t been as cruel as seasoned rebel soldiers might have been, but Stephanie had still been terrified of them, knowing they would choose protecting their own over her and Christina.

Stephanie hadn’t been raped, although she’d been beaten when she was first taken. She’d been scared to death and she still had nightmares about being kept in the dark.

But she’d dealt with it. Wrote a book about it. Put it behind her. And now, five years later, she was ready for this. For Danny Murphy, the last great memory she had before she left the country. Now, she padded through the hall toward the big, open kitchen.

“It smells fantastic,” she observed lightly, hoping to get this day back on track. She’d survived the worst of her awkward request of Danny, so now she only had to enjoy the fruits of her embarrassment.

He’d said yes, after all. She shivered just thinking about what that meant.

“I hope you brought your appetite.” He stood by the coffee table, arranging plates and glasses on the heavy plank top so they could eat on the sofa. Steam wafted from the plain white dishes loaded with manicotti and red sauce. Salad bowls were heaped with fresh greens and grated cheeses. A breadbasket heaped with slices of the baguette, some that were plain and some slathered with buttered and lightly broiled.

He’d changed into dry shorts and a worn black t-shirt with the lettering peeling for some obscure band. His dark hair was still damp and sticking up in a few places as if he’d just used his fingers to shove it out of his eyes.

Her mouth watered for the man as much as the meal.

“I didn’t realize I was hungry until now.” She edged around the sofa to take a spot in front of the low table. “The view is pretty great, too.” Realizing she happened to be staring at him at the moment, she pointed hastily out the window. “I mean, of the Bay.”

He sat beside her on the sofa.

“I like the view, too.” He never took his eyes off her. While that comment sank in, he lifted a glass of water and handed it to her, then raised his own. “Here’s to old friends.”

Her heart beat fast. She resisted the urge to tug at the layered t-shirts she wore, knowing her body would be sending obvious signals about how much he affected her. The soft cotton was a pleasurable friction against her breasts.

“Cheers to that.” She clinked her tumbler to his and sipped the water, hoping it would help cool her off. “Don’t let me slow you down, Danny. You must be starving.”

She gestured toward his plate and he grinned.

“I’ll try not to inhale it,” he said as he picked up a fork and dug in.

Following suit, she tasted the manicotti and promptly realized what he liked about the simple dish. The cheese filling was light and amazing. The pasta obviously homemade. And the sauce- yum. She’d polished off half of it before it occurred to her that, delicious as it was, she wasn’t coming close to fulfilling her real hunger.

Setting the plate down, she wondered how to move things forward with Danny.

“So…” she began, watching him help himself to more of everything. “I don’t mean to sound overly practical about this, but I wondered what you thought of the logistics of – er – you and I?”

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