Midnight Sons Volume 2 by Debbie Macomber Page B

wasn’t pain he felt, but an incredible sense of release.
    “Let me hold you…please,” he said. “I need…I need you.” He didn’t wait for her permission before he brought her into his arms and buried his face in her shoulder. She was soft and warm. Alive. He drew in several lungfuls of air, hoping that would stabilize his erratic heart.
    “Everything’s all right,” she whispered, her lips close to his ear. “Don’t worry.”
    Her arms were his shelter, his protection. The first time he’d met Bethany, he’d promised himself he wouldn’t become involved with her. Until now he’d steadfastly stuck to that vow.
    But he hadn’t counted on needing her—or anyone—this badly. She was his sanity.
    He knew he was going to kiss her in the same moment he acknowledged how desperate he’d been for her. With a hoarse groan that came from deep in his throat he surrendered to a need so strong he couldn’t possibly have refused it.
    Their lips met, and it was like a burst of spontaneous combustion. He’d waited so long. He needed her so badly. One hand gathering the blond thickness of her unbound hair, he kissed her repeatedly, unable to get enough.
    He was afraid his need had shocked her, and he sighed with heartfelt relief when she kissed him back as avidly as he was kissing her.
    He moaned, wanting to tell her how sorry he was. But he was unwilling to break the contact, to leave her for even those short seconds.
    Bethany coiled her arms tightly about his neck. Again and again he ran his hands down the length of her spine, savoring the feel of this woman in his arms. Their mouths met urgently, frantically. He felt insatiable, and she responded with an intensity that equaled his own.
    Mitch broke off the kiss when it became more than he could physically handle. He felt that the passion between them might never burn itself out. At the rate things had progressed, the kiss would quickly have taken them toward something more intimate. Something neither of them was ready to deal with yet.
    Bethany gasped in an effort to catch her breath, and she pressed her hand over her heart as though to still its frenzied beat. Her lips were swollen. Mitch raised his finger and stroked the slick smoothness of her mouth.
    Slowly he raised his head and studied her.
    She blinked, looking confused. Or dazed.
    He felt a surge of guilt—and regret. “That should never have happened,” he whispered.
    She said nothing.
    “I promise you it won’t happen again.”
    Her eyes flickered with…anger? Before another second had passed, she’d turned and rushed out of his office.
     
    Matt had found the day long and emotionally exhausting. He’d attended the services for his grandmother and the wake that followed.
    His mother mourned deeply, and in his own way Matt did, too. His grief surprised him. Matt had barely known Catherine—Grammy, as Lanni called her. There hadn’t been many visits over the years.
    She’d always sent a card with a check for his birthday. Money again at Christmas. A Bible when he graduated from high school and later, she’d established a trust fund for him. This was the money he’d used to buy the lodge from the O’Halloran brothers.
    His grandmother had never known how he’d used the money in the trust fund. By the time he was able to collect it this past summer, her health had disintegrated so much she no longer recognized him. Somehow Matt felt she would have condoned his choice. He liked to think she would have, anyway.
    The memorial service and wake had gone well. Virtually all the townspeople had offered condolences, and many had inquired about his progress with the lodge.
    The people of Hard Luck had been open and friendly since his arrival, but Matt tended to keep to himself. He was too busy getting the lodge ready to socialize much. He didn’t dare stop and think about everything that needed to be done before he posted an Open sign on the front door. The multitude of tasks sometimes overwhelmed