The question was, was he ready now?
And if he was, could he convince her to leave Cheyenne with him? Or would he be coming back home to stay, career or no career?
He parked at the curb outside her small cottage. The last time he was here, it had been summer and the flower beds were crowded with color and scent. Now, winter was still clinging to Cheyenne and the plants were bedraggled, the front of the house dark. Then his gaze fixed on Kayla as she hurried up the walk and stood beneath the porch light, unlocking the door.
It took him only seconds to join her there and then follow her into the house. Just as he remembered it, the place was small, but comfortable. She had collected pieces by local artists that were sprinkled around the living room. There was a green couch and two chairs sitting opposite each other in front of a stone fireplace. When she hit a switch, puddles of golden light fell across the hardwood floors.
He draped his coat across the back of the couch, and turned to meet the blue eyes that had haunted him for months. “You’re so damn beautiful,” he murmured without thinking.
She swayed as if his words had delivered a physical blow.
“Don’t say that,” she said, shaking her head for emphasis. “I’m so furious with you. I just don’t want to hear it.”
Her eyes flashed, and yeah, there was fury there but he also saw desire. The same hunger that held him in a tight grip. “I get it. You’re mad. But mad tells me you still care. If you didn’t, that anger would have been gone a long time ago.”
She bit down on her bottom lip but she didn’t deny it. That was enough for him. Matt couldn’t stand it anymore. He’d been away from her too long, had wanted her too much. In a few long strides, he was standing in front of her. Then he took hold of her shoulders, pulled her in close and kissed her.
For one split second, he thought she’d pull away, but that moment passed in a heartbeat and then she was leaning into him, kissing him back as if this kiss meant life itself. His tongue tangled with hers and hot shafts of pleasure shot through him, dazzling his brain, enflaming his body.
Her hands on his back felt like live wires, searing his skin right through the fabric of his suit jacket. Lifting one hand, he pushed his fingers through her soft, silky hair and relished the slick feel of those curls sliding across his skin.
He would have kissed her all night, would have given up food, water and even air to breathe if he could keep his mouth fused to hers. But all too soon that kiss ended and she was pulling away, stepping out of his arms and looking up at him through wide, shocked eyes.
“I can’t believe you did that,” she whispered.
“I didn’t do it alone,” he reminded her.
Shaking her head, she said, “That was just instinct.”
“Well, let’s hear it for instincts then.”
She laughed but there was no humor in the sound. Lifting one hand to her mouth, she whispered, “We can’t do this.”
“We were meant to do this,” he countered, his voice low, deep and filled with the same need he could see was nearly strangling her.
“If that were true,” she said, “you wouldn’t have disappeared for nine months.”
“Yeah.” He pushed one hand through his hair, blew out a breath and said, “I should’ve called. Should have talked to you before I left.”
“I agree.”
His head snapped up, his gaze fixed on hers. “It was you, you know. You’re why I left so suddenly.”
“You’re blaming me?” He heard the outrage in her voice and couldn’t blame her for it.
“Of course not. I’m just telling you. I left because of the promotion, the L.A. job. But I left so quickly because of what you were making me feel.”
Shaking her head, she wrapped her arms around her middle and hung on. “Panic?” she asked lightly.
His laugh was short and harsh. “Maybe a little, though I don’t like admitting that out loud.”
“Why?” she demanded. “I’ve waited nine months to have that question answered, Matt. Why would you leave like that? No word. No nothing. You disappeared.”
“I thought it would be easier on you—”