Chat - Archer Mayor [85]
There was at least one light on in her window, in the living room, and, as he got out of his car, he could see the rosy flickerings of a dying fire reflected off the ceiling.
Quietly, he climbed the stairs to her apartment, his doubts growing as he went. He liked this woman very much—always had, in fact—and having seen Gail with a new companion, he now knew absolutely that both of them had moved on. Nevertheless, he was torn. With Leo still unconscious, his mother hanging from an emotional thread, and several major investigations crowding his brain, Joe knew for a fact that he was poorly placed to begin a new relationship.
And yet, he kept climbing the stairs, trusting to instinct, Lyn’s freely admitted enthusiasm, and the pure dumb luck that had brought them together.
He reached the landing and stopped, the pounding of his heart contrasting with the utter silence all around him. He stared at her door, wondering, still, if he should knock.
Putting an end to his doubts, the door opened. Lyn stood on the threshold, wearing a long, sleeveless nightdress, buttons running down to the hem, her hair loose around her shoulders.
She smiled at him and reached out with one hand. “I was hoping you’d make it.”
He took her hand and followed her through the room with all the boxes. She didn’t lead him to the living room, though, but chose another door to the side, crossed a hallway, and entered a warm, sweet-smelling bedroom, lighted by a single candle beside a large, old-fashioned four-poster bed.
She turned in the middle of the floor and placed her hands on his shoulders. Without a word, she slid his coat off his arms, letting it fall to the ground.
He removed his jacket and shirt, and the rest of his clothing, with her help, until they stood as they had upon entering, she still in her nightdress, he now totally naked.
Only then did he rest his hands on her waist, his fingers warming to the feel of her skin beneath the thin cotton. He drew her near to him, her arms slipping around his shoulders, and they kissed as never before—slowly and deeply. Joe moved his hands up across her shoulder blades and down along her sides, over her hips, feeling his excitement building.
He stepped slightly away and began unbuttoning her nightgown, not hurriedly, enjoying how the candlelight caught her eyes, and the smooth contours of the skin he was revealing.
When he’d reached her navel, he returned to her shoulders, slipped the nightdress’s straps off, and let the garment gather in a circle around her waist.
“My God,” he murmured, drawing her near again, feeling her shiver slightly as her breasts pressed against his bare chest. They kissed again, and with one final sweep, he slid his hands under the swath of cotton at her hips, dropped it to the floor, and lifted her up, feeling her legs lock around his waist.
He carried her the short distance to the bed, and they both half tumbled into its embrace, laughing.
Chapter 20
Willy stood perfectly still in the darkness, adjusting to the cold. He was beyond the glare of a nearby streetlight, in the shadow of a rickety, wooden triple-decker dating back a hundred years, in one of the poorer sections of the village of Bellows Falls.
There wasn’t much activity. It was late, the traffic all but petered out. The weather was keeping most pedestrians off the sidewalks, and although there were windows still glowing with light, Willy was pretty sanguine he’d be left alone.
Not positive, though. Bellows Falls was quirky enough to hold back a surprise. A pretty village, with ancient mills, once fueled by the power of its namesake cascade, it was wedged between the Connecticut River and a prominence named Oak Hill, whose sheer bulk appeared to shove and compress the village onto a narrow shelf paralleling the water’s edge.
Unfortunately, Bellows Falls had