And he knew what heaven felt like. Heaven was Kara, in his lap, surrendering to him and the feelings they’d both been fighting for far too long.
He took the chance and let his hands rest on her hips, then cruise up to cup her breasts over the shirt. When she moaned and tore her lips from his, he froze, praying she wouldn’t give him a slap or pull away. But she did neither, just moved to his ear, nipping playfully as his thumbs circled around her nipples. Though she wore both a tank and what felt like a thin sports bra, the tips puckered beneath the fabric enough they were easy to find. He pinched, rolled and played until she was thrusting her groin against his in an imitation of an act he so desperately wanted to move on to with her.
Then she was gone. Evaporated like smoke. He was left with his arms up, hands still cupped as if holding the comfortable, plush weight of her breasts instead of air. When he could unravel the knot of his brain, he blinked and found her across the living room, arms wrapped around herself as if she’d taken a sudden chill, back facing him.
Damn. No, damn it, no. This was the exact opposite of what should have happened. Pushing the point was going to be the death of his chance.
“Kara,” he said hoarsely, then paused. He had no clue what else to say. “I’ll get Zach.”
“Wait.” She turned to look at him, and she was so pale beneath her freckles. Her nipples were still tightly budded beneath her tank, and it was all he could do not to let his gaze linger there too long. “I . . .” When words failed her, he wanted to kick his own ass.
“I’ll get Zach,” he said again, then headed for the guest bedroom. When he got there, he found the boy still passed out, sprawled out across the bed, managing to take up three times his own body size in square footage. His hair draped over his forehead, and his shoes were still untied. This kid . . .
Gently, Graham scooped him up, carrying him in his arms to the living room. When Kara saw them, her eyes widened and she started to hold out her arms, as if he were supposed to pass the boy off. When Graham just raised a brow, she shook her head, grabbed her purse and hurried out the front door, leaving it open for him. She waited while Graham settled Zach in the back, buckling in the mumbling, half-conscious child firmly.
Kara stood beside the driver’s door, sheltered behind it, using it like an Amazon uses a shield. He approached with a few cautious steps, praying she didn’t just run for the hills.
“Thank you, for getting him in the car. He would have been impossible for me to manage.” Her fingers tightened around the edge of the door. “You were such a big help today. I’m sorry I . . .” She let out a ragged breath. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t. Don’t be sorry. Just let me help some more. Let any of us help some more.”
She shook her head, but the sadness in her eyes said she wished she could.
“I know you have to get him home. I won’t keep you.” The relief that shone in her gaze was almost tangible. “But promise me something.”
She let out a little laugh that sounded like a combination of confusion and frayed nerves. “At this point, I owe you a month’s worth of favors.”
He let that one go. He didn’t want to be a debt to her. He wanted to be there for her. “Promise you’ll come to the match this weekend. Bring Zach.”
She was going to argue. He saw it.
“It’s not as violent as you think,” he said quickly to cut her off. “Not like a full-on match. And Zach might like seeing what we’ve been up to.” He smiled a little. “We like showing off for the kid. It’ll be fun all around.”
She looked away a moment, and he saw her mouth tighten. “I’ll think about it.”
It was all he could ask for. “See you later.”
With something akin to a deer-in-the-headlights expression, she sank into her car, closed the door and started off.
As Graham entered his quiet house, without even a kid sleeping in the guest room for company, he knew his life without those two would be a very empty one.
CHAPTER
6
“Should we be here? This late, I mean?” Kara passed the caution tape to Marianne and waited for her friend to loop it around the banister, then pass it back for her to do on her own side. “What with all the vandalism and other stuff going on, I’m not sure we should be here so late by ourselves.”
“Three tough women against one vandal?” Marianne scoffed, then glanced down to where Reagan was shuffling around the gym floor in the slippers she kept in the training room. “We’re good. Right, Reagan?”