She had never been kissed with such fierce passion, and Rebecca melted, just like in the movies, right into his arms, clinging to him, and if she could have crawled inside him, she would have. Her hands sought his face, his shoulders, his arms, the broad sweep of his chest. She could feel him hard and lean all the way down to her toes, and she remembered, oh God, she remembered that night on his couch, remembered his mouth, his hands, all his painstaking, patient efforts to free her from the four-year curse, and felt the river of desire flowing through her again.
And when she thought she’d simply melt into a puddle on the dock, Matt lifted his head. His gray eyes were swimming with emotion. He traced the pad of his thumb over her bottom lip, kissed her tenderly once more. “You are going to get cleaned up, and I am going to spend some time with Grayson. And then we are all going to get a burger—you, me, Gray, Jo Lynn, the whole damn town of Ruby Falls if you want. Then I am going to teach Grayson how to be a boy and hunt some goddamn frogs. And then, Rebecca . . . you and I are going to talk. Not shout, not throw things, not compete. Talk. You and me. You know we have to do it.”
Rebecca touched a finger to his lip. “What if I say no?”
“Then you’ll just have to shoot me,” he said, flashing that fabulous George Clooney grin, “because I won’t take no for an answer.”
“Okay,” she said weakly. “Your gun or mine?”
Matt chuckled, wrapped her tightly in his arms for a long moment, hugging the living daylights out of her.
And Rebecca felt her neck go all prickly and warm.
Matt walked Rebecca back to the house, their arms looped around each other’s waists, with a full coterie of dogs to flank them. They said good-bye to Jo Lynn, who had a knowing smile on her face. Probably because Matt was smiling like a madhouse idiot as she jumped on her golf cart and drove away. When she had disappeared into the woods, Matt followed Rebecca and Grayson inside, still smiling that fool’s smile as Rebecca washed Grayson’s hands and face.
“Why are you laughing, Mom?” Grayson asked, looking at her face, reaching up to touch the wet tail of hair falling over her shoulder. Matt had the incredible urge to touch it, too.
“I don’t know, honey,” she said, her smile broadening. “Okay, you’re all clean and I’m going to grab a shower. Will you be all right with Matt?”
“Yes!” he shouted.
She laughed, tousled his hair, then looked shyly at Matt. “Okay?”
Was she kidding? “More than okay,” he said, winking at his young partner in crime. “Come on, pal. Let’s go out and see what those ugly dogs are up to.”
“Come on!” Grayson cried, already pulling Matt outside. Reluctantly, Matt looked at Rebecca, who was still standing there, smiling like a silly little girl, a wistful expression in her eyes that stirred the man in him. But Grayson yanked hard on his hand, wanting his attention all to himself, and the two of them burst out onto the back porch, where the four dogs came to instant and rapt attention. Only then did Grayson let go of Matt so he could point out his best friends—Tater (his favorite); Tot, the three-legged beagle; Frank, the big brown dog with the John Wayne swagger; and last but not least, Bean. “Mom says he’s not very smart,” Grayson said. “Plus, he’s blind in one eye. And he might not hear, either, but the doctor isn’t sure because he’s really dumb.”
And Bean looked really dumb, poor bastard. “I know how he feels,” Matt remarked, which drew a curious look from Grayson.
“Do you have a blind eye?” Grayson asked, letting go of Tater.
“In a manner of speaking,” Matt said, to which Grayson screwed his face up with confusion. “The thing is,” Matt said, motioning to the tables and chairs that were perfectly arranged, of course, at the end of the porch, “sometimes I get mad and say things I shouldn’t. Like that night we were in the garage of the Four Seasons, and I was shouting at your mom,” he said, taking a seat.
Grayson followed his lead, scooching up on one of the wicker seats until his feet were a half foot off the ground. He gave Matt his somber attention, was doing that little man thing, and Matt leaned forward, propped his elbows on his knees. “You ever run off at the mouth and wish you hadn’t?” he asked earnestly.
“I dunno.”
“Man, I have. I don’t do it very often, but when I lose it, I definitely let it fly. Like that night—I wasn’t very nice, and now I’m trying to make it up to your mom. You know, tell her how sorry I am.”
Grayson nodded.
“I want to say I am sorry to you, too, pal. That wasn’t cool, all that yelling.”
“Mom cried.”
The kid may as well have stuck a knife in Matt’s gut. “I shouldn’t have lost my temper,” he said, shaking his head. “There’s no excuse for that, ever.”
“Okay,” Grayson said somberly.
“But you know how it is, you just get some idea in your head and the next thing you know, you’re thinking all kinds of crap that isn’t right. And the thing is, I really like your mom, so it was really stupid. You know what I’m saying?”
“Uh-huh.”
“I’m really sorry, Grayson.”