He hadn’t gotten to undress her.
Hadn’t really gotten to touch or hold or taste her.
Now he knew those puny things didn’t count.
This was ecstasy. He’d only visited in the neighborhood before.
Yardley Summers was the Sweet Spot.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Yardley woke up smiling. She couldn’t remember why until she turned her head. Inches away, Kye lay facing her. His eyes were closed, long dark lashes lying like fringe against his upper cheeks. She almost reached out and ran a finger down the blunt wedge of his nose but hesitated, in case she woke him.
It was hard to take him all in when his eyes were open. His friendly but oh-so-direct gaze took in more than she wanted him to see. But now she could look her fill.
Her gaze shifted to his mouth. His wide, full lips might have made a lesser man seem vulnerable. But there was nothing vulnerable about this mouth. It conquered and possessed and demanded surrender in its kiss. The hard square jaw was like the man. Bold, imposing, uncompromising, 100 percent masculine. And yet he could be goofy. That aloha smile of his was 90 percent kid at play. She felt an unaccustomed fondness for his face. It was a funny feeling that made her stomach flutter. It had nothing to do with the parts that made up a pretty spectacular specimen of human male.
He had been more than she remembered. The young man all eager and sweaty was not the consummate adult in full possession of his powers. Which he’d demonstrated by giving control to her. What was he like when he was in charge? It made her hot just thinking about it.
She lifted a finger toward his nose, a smile blossoming on her mouth. Maybe she should test her curiosity.
She heard it across the house. The soft ping of a text message being delivered to her phone. The sound went through her like an electric current. She bolted from his bed, shock and disbelief powering her.
He opened an eye. “Where are you going?”
She looked back, frowning at the intrusion into her amazement. “Bathroom.”
She took the stairs two at a time. She was wrong. Probably wrong. It must be Kye’s phone.
But the phone plugged into her bathroom socket was glowing. She could see it from the doorway of her bedroom.
She approached it as if it were a bomb. She picked it up as if it might burn her. There was a message. The first on this phone in more than three months. From an unknown number.
She opened the text message. It was a link to YouTube.
Holding her breath, she touched the link and suddenly the voice of Nat King Cole filled her ears. It was an old recording of a song she’d never heard before. But the lyrics were clear. “Do Nothing Till You Hear from Me.”
David.
She jabbed a return text into the phone, her hands shaking so badly that even autocorrect couldn’t make sense of it.
“Damn.” She cleared it and started again, making herself type slowly, her thumbs taking turns. It was simple. David? Are you okay?
She hit the SEND button and waited, staring so hard at the screen it began to blur.
It was David. It had to be him. Do nothing until you hear from me? What did it mean? Was he going to contact her again? Could he not just call her? Or text her? Was he in trouble? Oh God, she’d given up—
“That’s a pretty sight.”
Yardley jumped so hard she fumbled the phone and it fell into the sink. In the mirror she could see Kye standing in the bathroom doorway. He was naked. But the grin on his face said he was more interested in her state of undress. She could feel the winter air against her bare butt, only partially covered by her top. But she couldn’t get caught up in the anticipation on his face. Not now.
She half turned to him. “I heard my phone. Business.”
“On Sunday morning?”
“Dogs are like children. They don’t take things like weekends and holidays into consideration when having a crisis. Can I have a sec?”
“Sure.” He rubbed his chest lazily. “I can use some coffee. I’ll put the pot on.”
“Aren’t you cold?” She couldn’t help it. She was suddenly freezing while he was standing there like it was at least eighty-five degrees in the shade.
His grin answered before he did. “I was, a bit, until I saw you.”
She didn’t have to ask what he meant. The source of the heat between them had him rising to the occasion. Except there weren’t going to be any more occasions for them.
She couldn’t find the words to object as he came toward her. He looked so happy, like a kid who’d discovered the brand-new bike he’d gotten for Christmas was still there the next morning when he opened his eyes.
Except she wasn’t a bike to be ridden. She’d done the riding. And it was glorious. He was glorious.