The next thing she knew, she was naked, pulling on one of his white dress shirts, then a silver and blue tie, and topping it off with his sexy-as-hell Fedora, shoving her hair under as best she could. It was the same hat that had made him get a hotel room because it had driven her crazy when he’d worn it. She shoved her feet into a pair of his summer hiking boots.
Before she left the closet, she grabbed his beige suede jacket, the one he wore to meetings in the winter. The one she said made him look like a writer whoconsideredbuying a motorcycle but wouldn’t commit. He’d wanted to project the image of being dangerous but, god love him, he was just too practical.
She hit the hallway in her get-up, swaying to his music, a mix ranging from rock to pop to R&B to covers of oldies. Schmaltzy, she’d called it, laughing at his romantic taste in songs. He’d said she inspired his song choices. In listening to the lyrics, she’d been touched and hadn’t teased him again.
Much.
They’d been the youngest old couple ever.
So she, her wine, and his jacket danced to Gavin DeGraw, Celine Dion, Passion Pit, and Rihanna. She swayed, twirled, and stumbled, faithfully cloaked by the jacket, her grip solid on the stem of her wine. At one point, however, she had to dance herself out of the shoes, kicking them off.
Fred whined at the back door, and she danced over to let him out, sliding the door open, not paying attention as he bounded out, intent on her dance with Elijah’s ghost to Lenny Kravitz, but she raised her glass to him as he bounced away into the foggy night. She turned away, head down, sure she was rakish and seductive even as she stumbled as she moved into the space while Lenny wondered where she’d been all of his life and if he’d ever see her again.
Setting aside her wine glass, she held out the arms of the jacket, manipulating it as though she was dancing with him, with her husband. Eyes closed, brain buzzing happily, her hips swayed to the smooth sounds of the man crooning over the speakers.
Then a cover toDream a Little Dreamcame on. She stopped, frozen, not sure she could even trust her ears. Pulling the jacket closer to herself, she placed the arms around her shoulders as though wrapping herself in his arms, turning toward the speakers. The song was what she thought it was, and her expression crumbled, her glare for the speakers indicating her betrayal.
Their wedding song. Not the most traditional of choices, but it was theirs, a cover by Pink Martini & The von Trapps. As many times as she’d put on his playlist, it’d never played.
Until now.
Until tonight.
“’Lijah,” she said into the room, adjusting the jacket over her shoulders, as it seemed determined to slip off her, his arms refusing to hold her. She tugged it back up as tears started streaming down her cheeks. “Elijah!”
Tears turned into sobs. She clapped her hand over her mouth, the other across her chest, holding onto the now-weighty jacket. She bowed her head, shoulders heaving as the song played. It was too much, the reminder, the loss, the vacant room that was supposed to be filled with him, with them, instead of an empty jacket and clothes no longer holding him.
Her knees buckled beneath her. But before she could fall, a hand, warm and strong, was pressing into her stomach and pulling her back up, pulling her against an even warmer, stronger body. She sucked in a breath; her body responded with an electric surge.
The jacket was gently pulled from her clutches and tossed aside. His voice in her ear was low and gentle, “Cutting in, sweetheart.” She was bathed in a rush of heat and relief.
His body flush against hers, his hips moved, encouraging, but he moved slowly, swaying with her, ensuring her surrender to his intrusion, his instruction. She followed his lead and pressed back against him, moving with him, her hand covering his at her stomach, finding his other hand as he wrapped his arm around her, holding her tightly to him.
They moved around the floor to the song, as though they’d done it forever, her body answering his. As the song ended, he grasped her hand and spun her out, not relinquishing his grip on her. They paused, arms extended, looking at each other in the breadth of space.
No guards up, no pretenses. Questions asked and answered. Need, desire, hurt, and truth passing between them in the amount of time it took for him to pull her back, back into his arms, tipping her head back with his other hand at her neck, his head already descending to take possession of her mouth, and her lips already parting to allow it.
The Fedora tumbled to the ground as her hair spilled out.
Mac’s other hand grasped her buttocks, sliding under the hem of the shirt to bare flesh, pulling her against him as she wrapped her arms around his neck, lifting herself against him, mouth as hungry as his. The sweeping breathlessness he always created in her and the thrilling tickle of sensation cascading through her had her falling into him.
There was an added desperation, though; she needed him to take her away from the present; the past. Sheneededhim. Somehow, he knew it. And he was here, giving her what she needed, what she wanted. Already emotionally overwhelmed, tears formed and slipped down her cheeks.
Mac kissed a couple of her tears away and started to pull back. She held on more tightly, her eyes flying open in alarm at the thought he would retreat.
“I’m not going anywhere, Day.” He lifted a hand and wiped at her cheeks.
She also wiped her cheek with one hand, unwilling to relinquish her hold on him, her other arm around his neck. “I’m sorry.”
“No,” he said.
“It’s not—”
“Cassidy,” he interrupted in a chiding tone, catching her gaze.
Cassidy bit her bottom lip to stop a torrent of a different sort from breaking loose in her as she looked into his warm eyes.Mac, the man she’d heard a couple of times, had glimpsed so briefly, was looking back at her. No guard.
Her heart and stomach collided and tumbled. The sheer depth of his tenderness, understanding, and concern reflected in his dark orbs. There was a shift inside of her that was more than physical. Her body, already electric from his touch, broke out in goosebumps.