A Creed in Stone Creek - Linda Lael Miller [47]
It came again, then. That beaming smile.
When this kid grew up, he was going to be a heartbreaker, no doubt about it.
“Really?” Matt asked.
Steven shifted in his chair, but said nothing.
“Really,” Melissa confirmed. “Now, who wants ice cream and cobbler?”
MATT RESTED OVER STEVEN’S right shoulder, like a sack of potatoes. Once the kid hit the proverbial wall and gave himself over to sleep, that was it. His surroundings didn’t matter—he was down for the count.
Melissa, looking better than any dessert ever could have, walked out to the truck alongside Steven, hugging herself against the chill of a high country night.
There was hardly anything to that sundress of hers, which was fine with Steven, except that he didn’t want her catching pneumonia or anything.
“Thank you,” he said gruffly, pausing on the sidewalk, turning toward her.
He wanted to kiss Melissa, but holding Matt the way he was, the logistics were just plain off.
Melissa smiled, reached past him to open the rear door of the rig.
Matt mumbled something as Steven set him in the car seat and began buckling him in but, true to form, he didn’t wake up.
“He’s terrific,” she said softly.
“I agree,” Steven told her, after Matt was secured. They stood facing each other now, on that darkened sidewalk. “Of course it would be a real plus if he’d stop proposing to women.”
There was something flirty in Melissa’s smile, but something vulnerable, too. “Does he do that a lot? Ask people to marry you, I mean?”
Steven chuckled, even though he felt inexplicably nervous, and shook his head. “No,” he replied. “Actually, Matt is pretty discerning when it comes to women.” A grin tugged at one corner of his mouth. “He doesn’t suggest marriage and instant motherhood to just anybody, you know.”
Melissa laughed at that; it was soft and musical, that sound, and it found a place inside Steven and stowed away there, perhaps for keeps. “He’s sweet,” she said.
Again—still—Steven wanted to kiss Melissa O’Ballivan. Full on the mouth, with tongue.
Since the direct approach might scare her away, he settled for leaning in and giving her a light peck on the forehead.
“Tonight was great,” he said, resting his hands on her shoulders.
Given that the sundress left that part of her bare, the gesture might have been misguided. Melissa’s skin felt warm and smooth under his palms, taut with vitality. Steven tightened his fingers, briefly and almost imperceptibly, then withdrew, letting his hands fall to his sides.
“Thanks,” he said again, grinding out the word.
He saw the heat flash in her eyes, the knowing, a desire that might even match his own, and everything inside him soared.
It was inevitable, he realized. Written in the stars.
Right or wrong, for better or for worse, at some point, he and Melissa O’Ballivan would make love.
Whoa, you big dumb cowboy, said the voice of reason, causing Steven to sigh. You just met the woman yesterday.
Once, before Matt became a part of his day-to-day life, Steven would have countered the voice with a resounding So what? living, as he had, by the philosophy that he-who-hesitates-is-lost, especially when it came to beautiful women and the opportunity to bed them.
Melissa certainly qualified as beautiful, and that was the least of it. He sensed a vastness within her, a fascinating inner landscape he yearned to explore.
In time.
“Go inside,” he told her, smiling down into her eyes, “you’re shivering.”
“Yes, I really should,” she agreed, shivering harder.
But she didn’t move and neither did he.
They just stood there, looking at each other.
Finally, Melissa rolled up onto the balls of her feet and touched her mouth to his, the contact light and brief, over almost before it began.
The kiss electrified Steven, left him confounded.
In the next moment, a wistful little smile playing on her lips, Melissa turned and hurried back through the gate, up the walk, across the porch, finally disappearing into the house.
Steven, wondering what the hell had just hit him, still didn’t