A Creed in Stone Creek - Linda Lael Miller [127]
Only more so.
They climaxed simultaneously, Melissa’s body arching under Steven’s. Steven driving deep inside her and thrusting his head back as he uttered a low, guttural shout of relief.
The recovery took a long time, but hearing Zeke barking outside set them both scrambling. Melissa got the first shower, as she had the night before, and it was a good thing, because when she got to the kitchen, Matt and Davis and Kim and Brody were all there. And so was Tom Parker.
Melissa blushed, tugging at the waistband of her loose, borrowed jeans.
Seated at the table, a cup of fresh coffee steaming in front of him, Tom favored Melissa with a saucy grin that said, “So,” long and drawn out, as clearly as if he’d spoken the word aloud.
“Fancy meeting you here,” he drawled, his eyes dancing with amusement.
“Just imagine,” Melissa said, but she kept her tone moderate, because Matt was there, and Steven’s folks, and his cousin Brody. And all of them were watching her.
“Did you sleep over?” Matt asked Melissa, with frank innocence, his voice carrying all over that big kitchen.
The adults hid their amusement with coughs or by turning away. Except for Tom, of course. He was enjoying Melissa’s discomfort way too much.
“Yes,” Melissa told the child, because she knew Steven’s policy toward his son didn’t include lying. “I did.”
Matt, still wearing his Southwestern pajamas, ran over and threw his arms around her. “Will you stay for breakfast? Please?”
“Blueberry pancakes,” Kim said, patting the reusable shopping bag in her arms. You had to like a woman who brought her own ingredients and was willing to cook. “You’re welcome to join us, Sheriff,” she added, for Tom’s benefit.
He agreed readily. Tom might have been quiet, but he wasn’t shy. Except as far as Tessa Quinn was concerned, that is.
“We’ll be having bacon and eggs, too,” Davis Creed said.
“You won’t,” Kim replied, leveling a look at her husband. “I want to keep you around for a while, if you don’t mind.”
Something crackled between those two, Melissa would have sworn. They loved each other, without a shadow of a doubt. Loved each other deeply, passionately—and permanently.
It was possible, then, for a marriage to last through good times and bad, not just over a few years, but over the ups and downs of decades.
Theoretically, Melissa had known that, of course. But emotionally, because of her parents’ experience, and her own, she hadn’t quite dared to believe it.
Melissa helped Kim by setting the table, enjoying the talk, the laughter, the wonderful smells of breakfast cooking.
The meal was noisy and delicious, a family affair, for sure.
Steven seemed on edge, though; his gaze kept straying toward the windows, or the back door, and when a horn honked out on the country road that ran past his property, he actually started slightly.
“What’s the matter with you, Boston?” Brody asked, from behind a stack of pancakes that rivaled the Leaning Tower of Pisa.
Melissa watched with interest, out of the corner of her eye, as Steven’s neck reddened, the color climbing into his face. He stabbed at his food with his fork, but he wasn’t actually eating.
“Nothing,” he said, and his glance held a warning for Brody: don’t push this.
Surely Steven wasn’t worried about Tom’s presence, Melissa reasoned. It was true, of course, that both of them would have to answer a million questions, and testify in court, too, eventually, but the case itself was pretty straightforward.
With his training and experience in criminal law, Steven had to know he wouldn’t be blamed for Nathan Carter’s death—so what was bothering him? She studied him closely.
Tom’s cell phone buzzed before anyone could speak again, though Brody certainly looked as though he’d meant to do just that. Defiance flashed in his blue eyes, and his mouth was pressed into a hard line.
Brody Creed, Melissa concluded, didn’t like being told what to do. Big surprise there.
“Tom Parker,