Page 63 of Hearts Don't Lie
“Y-yes.”
“You’re not. We can eat at the island. I thought…”
Mac felt awful seeing how confused he was, not sure what he had done to upset her. She inhaled, mentally shaking the memory, and put on a bright smile before leading the way to her room with her plate and fork. He followed with his and the carafe of water.
They set their plates on the nightstand, and after fluffing the pillows, they leaned against the headboard. It was nice. Intimate. The room was dark, lit by the bathroom vanity light.
“Hold on, honey.” Hardin had shucked his shorts to join her in bed but padded around her bedroom.
Mesmerized, her eyes followed Hardin’s naked form as he moved with lean athletic grace, his corded muscles gliding over each other as he searched for something. “Matches?”
“Yes.”
She reached into her drawer and handed them to him. “Here.”
“Perfect,” he said, lighting the two candles she had lit the other night on her dresser, then turning off the vanity light and climbing into the bed, pulling her over next to him, handing Mac her plate. “It’s been twelve years since I picnicked by candlelight, since I made love to you, Mac.” Hardin’s eyes shone and he pulled the clip from her hair, then he kissed her tenderly. “Let’s make this a regular thing.”
“Yes,” she said, smiling through her tears.
Fingers trailing over her skin woke Mac. She had no idea how long she’d slept having crashed hard, full from their midnight breakfast and sated from making love. “Hey.” Her voice was full of sleep. Light from the waning moon streamed in through the window, allowing her to see him more clearly than in the candlelight earlier.
“Hey yourself. Didn’t mean to wake you. I’m having a difficult time not touching you. Your shoulders are beautiful, but then every inch of you is.”
“Thank you.”
“Did you know that you do this puff-snore thing?”
Mac laughed and flipped over from being on her stomach. “I do?”
“Uh-huh. No one’s ever told you that?”
“I’ve never—” She rubbed her eyes then stretched her arms over her head, noting how his eyes raked over her nakedness. “Um, I haven’t slept with someone. I was waiting to sleep with someone I loved, and I had this little sidekick.”
“Stowe,” he said, smiling.
“Yes.”
He was on his side, propped up by his elbow, his chin resting on his fisted hand, observing her. “But you’ve had sex with other guys.”
“Yes.”
“And you with women.”
“Yeah,” he said, his eyes dropping to her full breasts, then rising to lock with hers as his fingers traced lazily over the quivering skin of her stomach. “I got involved with a woman a few years back.”
“The Spanish superstar.”
“Yeah.”
“Did you? Did you love her, Hardin?”
“No. It was—” He grimaced and ran a hand roughly over his face, then searched her eyes. “Enlightening. In retrospect, I learned a lot about myself, and my relationship with her clarified my need to find you. You were so fucking difficult to find.”
Mac sat up and pulled the sheet up to her chest.
Hardin sat up and faced her, the sheet pooling in his lap. He took a deep breath and exhaled. “I was expected back in Spain this week. When I told you I wanted out, I meant it. Now, after finding you. Discovering I’m a father, well, I’m even more determined.”
She reached out and took his hands, playing with his fingers as she talked. “Baby, I don’t want to be the reason you quit. I don’t want Stowe to be the reason you quit either. You’re still at your peak.”
