Single Dads Collection. Lynne Marshall

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Single Dads Collection - Lynne Marshall


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rooted to the spot. She’d longed to be wanted for an entire year, yearned for it. And here he was a whisper away.

      “Do you think we should have a little conversation about what I told you at the tree farm?”

      Her tongue stayed glued to the roof of her mouth. Little starbursts of possibility exploded inside her. But her brain rebuked her. Step away. Pretend you don’t understand what he’s getting at.

      He nudged her a little closer. Her breasts swept against his chest. Their thighs brushed. The starbursts of possibilities became starbursts of real attraction, arousal. He was here. Hers for the taking. All she had to do was say a word. Or two. Or maybe even just smile.

      “I know you’re attracted to me.” He laughed. “I haven’t been out of the game so long that I don’t recognize the signs.” He nudged her closer still. “And I like you.”

      His head began to descend and she knew he was going to kiss her. She couldn’t have told if it had taken ten seconds or ten minutes for their lips to meet. Caught in his gaze, mesmerized by his soft words, she stood frozen, yearning egging her on while fear stopped her.

      But when his lips met hers, pure pleasure punched through her objections. Her brain went blank and she simply let herself enjoy the forbidden fruit he offered. His lips nibbled across the sensitive flesh of her mouth. Shivers of delight raced down her spine. He deepened the kiss, parting her lips and sliding his tongue inside her waiting mouth. Yearning ricocheted through her. Not just for physical satisfaction, but for everything connected to it. Love. Commitment. Family.

      But she couldn’t give him a family. And pretending she could, stringing him along, was wrong.

      She reluctantly, painfully stepped away. The jackhammer beat of her pulse reduced to a low thud. The tingles of desire flooding her system mocked her.

      Rory’s voice softly drifted to her, breaking in on her personal agony. “Why are you fighting this?”

      She leaned against the counter. Tears swam in her eyes. The arousal coursing through her blood competed with the anger and frustration battering her brain.

      “If you’re worried about the distance, about the fact that you may have to leave town if I buy Raleigh’s, you could always continue working for me.”

      She squeezed her eyes shut as pain shot through her. He liked her enough that he was already making compromises.

      “I’d have to stay in Virginia, but it’s only a four-hour drive. One week you could drive down to me, the next I could drive up to you.” He chuckled. “I’d give you every Friday off. It’s one of the advantages of dating the boss.”

      The tears stinging her eyes became a flood. He liked her enough that he was planning a future. A real future. One with kids and a dog and a white picket fence and a husband and wife who really would love each other until death parted them.

      When she didn’t answer, he walked up behind her. Slid his hands around her waist. “Shannon?”

      The tears spilled over. Her heart splintered into a million pieces. Her lips trembled.

      “Why are you upset, when I’ve already worked it all out for us?” He chuckled softly. “I can understand that you’d be afraid of starting something because of your ex. But I’m not like your ex. Not only would I never hurt anyone, but I like you. A lot. More than I ever thought I could like—”

      She cut him off when she turned in his arms. Blinking back tears she let herself study his face, his fathomless black eyes, his wonderful, perfect mouth, the mouth that kissed so well.

      She wanted to remember this. She wanted to remember what it looked like when a man really wanted her. With the pain shredding her heart, shattering her soul, at the knowledge that she was going to have to tell him she couldn’t have kids, she knew beyond a shadow of doubt that she would never, ever get close to a man again. So she’d memorize Rory. Never forget him. Never forget what it felt like to be wanted. If only for a little while.

      He tried to pull her close but she shrugged out of his hold. She couldn’t handle it if he dropped his arms from around her when she told him the truth. Because she had to tell him the truth. Not only did he like her enough that she had to be fair, but she also liked him enough that she could accept nothing less from herself than total honestly.

      She stepped away. Cleared the lump filling her throat. Quietly, with the burden of pain it always brought, she said, “I can’t have kids.”

      His face contorted with confusion. “What?”

      She drew a harsh breath, caught his gaze. When reality had to be faced, it was best to face it head-on. Bravely. Now that she had her bearings she could do just that.

      “My ex left me the day I had a hysterectomy. I had the kind of endometriosis that compromises vital organs. I had no choice.”

      His features softened with sympathy for her. “I’m so sorry.”

      “And you love kids.” Swallowing back a waterfall of tears that wanted to erupt, she turned away. “I see how you are with Finley, but we’ve also discussed this. The day we went sledding you told me how much fun it was to have Finley and that if—” Her voice faltered. “If you ever found someone to love again you would want more kids.”

      He stepped up behind her. “Those were words—”

      “That was truth,” she shot back harshly. She didn’t want him saying things tonight that he’d regret in the morning. She turned, faced him. She refused to let her misery compromise her pride. “You love kids. You wouldn’t even have to say the words. Anybody who saw you with Finley would know. But you told me. You told me plainly that if you ever fell in love again, it would be to remarry…to have kids.” She paused long enough to draw in some much needed air. “If we acknowledge that honestly, and stop what’s happening between us now, there’ll be no hard feelings. No one will get hurt because we barely know each other.”

      He brushed at the tear sitting on the rim of her eyelash. “Shannon…” Her name was a soft question that she didn’t know how to answer.

      So she shrugged away from him, swallowed and said, “Don’t. Really. I’m fine with this.”

      He didn’t pull her to him again, but she still stood close enough that he brushed at the second tear. “Then why are you crying?”

      For a million reasons. She wanted to say it. Hell, she wanted to shout it. Life had stolen her ability to have kids and with it slimmed down her pool of potential life partners. Her husband had dumped her. She hadn’t really been held by a man in an entire year. She’d gone through the worst situation life had ever handed her and she’d gone through it alone.

      She was crying because she was tired. Alone. Afraid to hope. And when she looked at him, she hoped.

      Rory drew a sharp breath, her pain was a living, breathing thing in the room, tormenting them both. He wanted to tell her he wasn’t going anywhere. That he didn’t care about having kids. That he liked her enough to explore what was happening between them, then Finley ran into the room.

      “Where is everybody?”

      Shannon spun away from the door so Finley couldn’t see her crying and Rory’s heart broke for her again. He longed to take her into his arms, to let her cry, but he respected her privacy. If he did something like that, Finley would see and ask questions. But they could—would—talk about this in the morning.

      He walked over and swept Finley up off the floor. “Hey, kiddo. Tree’s up. It’s time for us to go home.”

      “But I didn’t get cocoa.”

      “We’ll stop somewhere along the way.”

      “Okay.”

      But carrying his daughter to the front hall, strange feelings enveloped him. He remembered the day she was born, remembered walking the floor with her after her two-o’clock feedings. The memories tripped something in


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