The Driven Snowe Page 15

  “Okay,” she said. Her lips felt swollen, and she was on the razor’s edge of canceling her dance class—and taking the rest of the day off, for that matter.

  “Angela,” he added, before she could disappear back into the restaurant. “This means a lot to me. You mean a lot to me.”

  She smiled, then walked back into the restaurant on unsteady legs. When she sat down her co-workers stared at her like hawks.

  “So? What happened?” Tanya asked eagerly.

  Ginny laughed. “I think it’s obvious what happened, from the look of her. Guess you’re back together, huh?”

  “Um, yes,” Angela said, still dazed. “I think.”

  May sent her an indulgent smile. “Guess dancing is out this Friday, huh?”

  Dancing! “Oh, no. I’m sorry! I completely forgot. I’m supposed to go with him to San Diego this weekend—I forgot about going out with you guys.”

  Ginny waved her statement away with one hand. “No problem. All women get their priorities whacked when a man enters the picture.”

  Tanya quirked an eyebrow at her. “Like you haven’t?”

  “Honey, if I could get Russell Crowe to enter my picture, I don’t think anybody would ever see me again!”

  They laughed, but Angela felt sobered, abruptly losing the high she’d felt from Josh’s kisses. “I promise, no matter what, I’ll go out with you guys next weekend,” Angela said.

  “It’s okay,” Tanya said. “Really. We understand.”

  “Well, I promise anyway.” Angela said, and let them move on to other topics of conversation. Still, she could feel it…feel the slow sink of realization.

  You’ve just broken your second rule to yourself.

  She still had one more. She wasn’t about to tell him anything—no professions of love. He had enough power over her as it was.

  ANGELA SAT ON A big beige couch in Josh’s parents’ house, a small, blond-haired cherub sitting contentedly on her lap with her tiny fist in her mouth. She was drooling on it, Angela noticed. Glancing around to see if anyone else noticed this development, she saw Josh sitting with his parents at the kitchen table, talking animatedly. His youngest sister, Isabel, was standing by the grand piano in the living room with her boyfriend Drake. They were talking to some cousin or aunt, Angela couldn’t remember which. Meanwhile, she heard clomping around upstairs.

  “Robby, you get back here this instant!”

  A small, naked and apparently wet boy made a dash down the stairs, paused just long enough to grin at everyone’s laughing applause, then dash back up the stairs.

  Robby’s mother—Josh’s middle sister, Harriet—was also the mother of the blonde on her lap. She appraised the child nervously. The drooling showed no signs of abating. She took another glance around, then surreptitiously wiped off the little girl’s mouth and fist with the corner of her frilly little dress. “There we go,” Angela said, relieved.

  The child grinned toothlessly at her.

  And this is how Josh decides to “make it up” to me.

  San Diego was just as beautiful and peaceful as Josh had described it. She’d felt very serene—right up to the point when he pulled into his parents’ crowded driveway.

  “I have to do this,” he said, his eyes trying to be apologetic and failing. “It’s my father’s birthday.”

  Angela’s first reaction had been shock. She was expecting this to be a romantic idyll, filled with lots of sun, sand, and make-up sex that she’d kept reading about in romance novels. Instead, she got blindsided by the stress of meeting not just his parents, but his entire family, with no prior notice. He just grinned at her as he ushered her into the house and started introducing her around. She managed as best she could with the absolute crush of people swarming around her.

  For a perceptive man, he’d been really dense about this. She reluctantly admitted that they had an arrangement, something that far outstripped the “arrangement” that they’d originally agreed on. But she was still getting used to those emotions. For someone on shaky ground, definition-wise, introducing somebody to their entire family in one fell swoop was hardly the way to ease her into this new status.

  She thought of her khaki slacks, her white tank top. Not that everyone else was dressed formally, but she certainly would have dressed up if she’d realized she was meeting his family. Darn it! Didn’t he know women liked to be warned about these sorts of things?

  If this is how he’s going to apologize for last Sunday, how exactly is he planning to “make up” for this weekend?

  The child tugged on her shirt, and she looked down.

  “Ga,” the baby said, solemnly. Then she yanked at the end of Angela’s ponytail and grinned, a beatific baby smile.

  Angela couldn’t help it. She smiled back.

  “She likes you.”

  Angela looked up to see Josh’s parents. Josh stood safely a little behind him. She narrowed her eyes at him. He just grinned.

  “Our Mindy doesn’t take to many people,” Josh’s father said, sitting on her left side. “You must be pretty special.”

  To her dismay, Josh’s mother sat on her right side. She was now neatly boxed in. Josh leaned against the opposite wall, his arms crossed in front of him, still grinning.

  “So, Angela,” his mother said. “I’m afraid Josh hasn’t told us too much about you. How long have you two been seeing each other?”

  Let the Inquisition commence. Angela suppressed a groan, and tried to look placid as the child settled herself in comfortably and started to doze. “Um…not very long at all, actually,” she said, hoping that she could pass herself off as someone more casual, just a friend.

  “Three months,” Josh supplied.

  She frowned at him.

  “That’s not too long,” his mother mused, looking Angela over speculatively. “So, dear. How did you two meet?”

  Josh’s eyes gleamed with mischievous amusement. “Well, that’s a funny story, actually….”

  Angela panicked. “We met in the library,” she improvised, interrupting him. “He was looking for something, and I helped him, er, find it.”

  His father grinned at him. They could have been brothers. “Really? What were you looking for?”

  Angela glanced at Josh, her eyes imploring him for help.

  “Actually, I was looking for her,” he said, causing his father to laugh. “As you can see, she was very helpful.”

  His mother clucked her tongue, rolling her eyes a little. “Men,” she said, with obvious disapproval.

  “I couldn’t agree with you more,” Angela said, frowning at Josh.

  “Uh-oh,” his father said. “They’re starting to take sides.”

  “Honestly,” his mother said, scooping up the sleeping child off of Angela’s lap. “Having you two around is like living in Saturday Night Live.” She carried the girl upstairs, where the naked Robby had disappeared.

  Angela wound up having a good time. She discussed books with Isabel, who had some interest in writing—“more as a hobby than a career,” she’d said modestly—and then she’d talked about the kids with their proud mother, Harriet. She’d talked about Manzanita with his father, and about her old house with his mother. They had an early dinner, around a large table. It warmed her heart, to see such a big, strangely normal family enjoying time together.

  They got to the birthday portion of the get-together. After frowning and bellyaching over his sugar-free carrot cake, Josh’s father looked gleeful at the amount of presents he’d received, then tore into them like a five-year-old. New golf clubs were oohed and aahed over. After a while, they went back to separate, happy conversations. The kids were put to bed.

  “Looks like it’s time for us to go,” Josh said. Although she’d been having a pleasant time, she still felt relieved.

  She went over to Josh’s father. “It was nice to meet you, Mr. Montgomery.” She felt her face redden slightly. “I’m sorry I didn’t bring a birthday gift. This was sort of a surprise for me.” She glared at
Josh, who just smiled back at her.

  “Robert, please.” He hugged her. “And don’t worry about it—I think you were my gift.” He winked at her, and he reminded her of Josh. She smiled back.

  “I STILL CAN’T BELIEVE you did that.”

  Josh smiled at Angela’s comment. He probably shouldn’t have, but he couldn’t resist. She kept trying to pigeonhole them in their “arrangement,” or under the tepid guise of “friends,” and it annoyed him. He wasn’t going to hide her from his parents, when he wanted very badly for them to meet her—a woman who was finally worth bringing home. He wasn’t about to pretend he was feeling anything other than what he was feeling, not in front of anyone. Including her.

  He’d been charming Angela for the rest of the evening, taking her to the beach, for a romantic moonlight stroll, and even out dancing. She’d slowly thawed, but it had taken a measure of his considerable charm.

  He wanted her charmed for what he had to tell her tonight.

  The hotel was perfect: a view of the moonlight glinting off the crests of waves hitting the beach, a soft breeze, the murmuring crash of surf in the distance. He couldn’t have planned it better.

  I love you, Angela. I love you, Angela.

  He’d never said the words before, so he supposed that was a good enough reason to be nervous. He wasn’t nervous about her reaction to it. Okay, maybe a little nervous about that, but how badly could she take it?

  I hate you, get away from me, I could never love you, his mind instantly supplied. Or, even worse, “You’re kidding, right?”

  All right. He was really, really nervous about her reaction.

  She was wearing one of the small terry robes the hotel supplied, and her hair was loose and blowing slightly in the breeze. He walked up behind her, kissing her gently on the back of her neck and at the sweet indentation just behind her ear. She shivered and leaned back against him obligingly.

  “I suppose I could forgive you for this afternoon,” she said slowly, turning. She caressed his light cotton boxers, and he instantly went hard beneath her curious fingertips. “If you make it worth my while.”

  Don’t get distracted, he scolded himself. “Maybe we should talk first.”

  She stroked his erection, coaxing it from its hiding place with satiny fingers. He groaned. “Talk.” She chuckled, a low, sexy sound. “Is that what they’re calling it these days?”

  She started pushing insistent kisses against his bare chest, and he could feel the plush material of her robe against his hardness. This woman could drive him crazy with just a few touches. It was like putting a fire out with gasoline. “Angela, where are we going with all this?” he asked, moving back a little.

  His mistake was that, in the hotel room, moving back from the balcony meant moving toward the bed. She drew the curtains and moved in on him. Her brown eyes glowed with golden highlights, and her full lips curved in invitation, with just a hint of humor. “You’re the one who taught me where we could go with all of this.” She nudged him, and he felt the bed hit the back of his knees. She was stroking him, pulling at the tie of the robe, letting it fall open to reveal the smooth nude body, hidden just inside. His breathing was getting quicker.

  “I don’t mean the sex,” he said, trying hard to focus. “To start, I really missed you this week…”

  To his surprise, she pushed him, hard. He tried to keep his balance, but his foot slipped on the smooth comforter and he fell on to the bed with a lurch. “I missed you, too,” she said, with a hungry stare.

  “I want to see you more often,” he said, trying to lead into his statement, not drop it on her.

  “You see me every weekend,” she said reasonably, pressing moist little kisses down his stomach. His muscles clenched, and he gritted his teeth. “And stained glass will be ending soon…I guess maybe I could see you Wednesdays, too.”

  He was breathing hard now, and his blood roared through his head. He grimaced as she grabbed the waistband of his boxers and gently eased them down his legs, then shed her robe. “Angela, I really wanted to…ah…” he said, as she started breathing on him, inching lower, her full lips a mere smile away from his erection.

  “Shh,” she said, her finger caressing both him and her lips in a gesture of silence. “We don’t need to talk about this right now…”

  He wanted to protest, but her lips covered him, and it was all he could do to keep breathing. He let out an explosive groan, his hips rising off the bed as she moved up and down on him slowly, gently tracing him with her tongue. Her mahogany hair slid like a silk cloud over his stomach and his thighs. He gasped and moaned, his hands bunching in fists before finally skimming over her hair, inadvertently moving her farther down on him. “Angela,” he breathed, feeling his body shiver.

  She pulled off of him with a long, slow caress, brushing him ever so slightly with the edge of her teeth and causing him to let out a startled “unh” of pleasure. She smiled at him, mischievously. “My turn.”

  This was his chance—his last chance at rational thought. “Angela, I love…having you around me,” he said, chickening out as she started to kiss her way up his body, stroking him as she did so. “I love spending time with you. I love waking up with you.” He took a deep breath. “Angela, I love…”

  She covered his mouth with her own, before he could finish the sentence. Her kiss was insistent, passionate, making his blood sing and his head swim. She positioned herself over him, and before he realized what was going on, she drove him into her in one smooth motion.

  “Josh,” she moaned, and he felt enveloped by her moist, tight heat. “Talk later. Make love to me.”

  He felt her body clench around him. He couldn’t help it. His body took over.

  He felt her rock against him, and he held her hips, pushing gently down on her thighs, pulling her toward him. She closed her eyes, looking almost meditative as she threw her head back. Her breathing was shallow, and she moved slowly, her hips circling him. She wasn’t rushing toward an end result—she was enjoying the feel of his body inside of hers, and the sensation was driving him mad.

  She leaned down and kissed him, the new angle making him groan as she ground against him. He pushed up, hard, making her gasp in return. Her eyes flew open, and she smiled in sexual challenge. She pressed against him harder, drawing him deeper inside her, clenching him tighter, and he felt his control starting to slip. Her tempo increased. She was riding him, breathing in short, mewling little gasps, her breasts glistening lightly with sweat. She bit at her lower lip.

  “Oh,” she breathed, moving against him furiously. “Oh, oh…”

  “Come on,” he said, pushing into her.

  She let out a cry and he felt her convulsing around him, gripping him like a fist. He pulled her hard against him, burying himself in her, feeling his own release coursing through him in powerful waves.

  She collapsed alongside him, and he could still feel their mutual pleasure in their muted quivering of muscles, in the cooling of skin.

  After several minutes, he rolled her over. Her eyes were closed, and she had a half smile. He grinned, seeing it. “Guess you showed me,” he said, pulling the covers up over their naked bodies.

  She didn’t say anything.

  He took a deep breath. Time to bite the bullet. “Angela, I think we’d better have that talk now.”

  He waited for a response. He only heard the soft sound of even, measured breathing. After a few moments, he realized that was all he was going to get. “Angela?”

  Still nothing. Finally, he nudged her. She turned over with an incoherent mumble, and curved into the pillow.

  She was sound asleep.

  He turned off the light, and lay there, awake, with both hands behind his head. Wasn’t it supposed to be the man who climaxed, then fell fast asleep? And wasn’t it the woman who fumed because, yet again, they’d avoided any talk of love?

  Hell. When did I get to be the woman in this relationship?

  9

  “SO, HOW WAS San Diego?
You haven’t mentioned a word about your getaway all week.” Tanya turned slightly from the driver’s seat of her car. “Everything okay?”

  Angela had finally begun to relax, but Tanya’s casual question caused all the tension she’d been holding at bay to come back with a pinch between her shoulders. “San Diego was nice,” she replied, staring out the car window but not seeing past the glass. It was nine o’clock on Friday night, and the sky was pitch-black. “How was the club?”

  “The usual…loud music, May dancing her head off,” Tanya said. Angela looked over and for a second caught Tanya’s light-eyed gaze as she studied Angela in her rearview mirror. “Too bad you couldn’t have been there, but then, I know how it is. Everything is okay between you and Josh, right?” Her voice was hesitant, as if she didn’t want to pry, but couldn’t help herself.

  Angela squirmed against her seat belt. “We’re fine.”

  Ginny, who was riding in the front passenger seat, craned her neck around to look at Angela. “Hmm. Nice? Fine?” She shook her head. “Bland adjectives spell trouble. Spill.”

  Angela peered into the darkness. “Where are we going, anyway? I’m starving.”

  Ginny glanced at Tanya. “Evasion. Definite sign. This is going to take drastic measures.”

  “Angela will tell us when she feels like it,” Tanya said, and Angela let out a little sigh of relief. “We’re going to dinner at this new restaurant. Well, not exactly new…remember that old diner out by the highway? Well, with the town growing and all these new businesses coming in, somebody bought it and is making it into this retro restaurant. They say the food’s really good, too. Nouveau Californian.” Tanya chuckled. “We’ll see how long it lasts.”

  Angela fell quiet as Tanya and Ginny talked about the different restaurants in the outlying towns, trying to ignore the chill she suddenly felt. She knew that diner, all right.