by Amy Woods
She was glad for the lack of light, glad that the cover of night hid all the emotions whirling around inside her from being visible on her face.
It seemed like several moments passed, and Ryan didn’t speak. She was glad he didn’t try to fill the silence. It was possible they’d spoken too much that day, shared too much of themselves with each other, and now it was time to let the quiet talk for them.
The next thing she knew, Ryan had lowered himself to the ground to sit behind her, and suddenly his firm chest was against her back, his legs curved around hers. He breathed in deeply, his nose tucked into her hair, and then set his chin on top of her head, wrapping his arms around her, settling them atop her belly.
She could barely breathe, her body so full of longing, of confusion and of desire for him that she just sat there, unable to think or move at all.
Finally, she lifted her hands from her lap to hold his arms, and they sat there like that, silent in the darkness, for a long time.
“Katie,” Ryan said, his voice barely audible, hardly more than a whisper in the cool night air. “My mom has cancer. When my dad invited me to design the new cancer treatment hospital for his company, I took the job because I couldn’t turn down such a great project for my firm. But then I found out that my dad had a deeper reason for building the facility...Mom. And now it’s my reason, too.”
Katie sucked in air and closed her eyes as the pain in his words hit her in the center of her heart. She’d been so focused on her own issues earlier, on worrying about how the museum’s closure would affect her and her friends, that she hadn’t even stopped to consider that Ryan might have his own reasons for the project.
Of course he did, though. Of course Ryan Ford had a good cause for helping his father. That was who Ryan was. He didn’t do things haphazardly or without logic and thought. He was a good, good man—she’d always known that, even when she’d watched him drive away from her that night and out of her life. He always had others’ best interests in mind in every move he made. She’d been so blind to that fact before, so selfish. How badly he must be hurting to be dealing alone with his mother’s illness, and to have agreed to work with a man with whom, Ryan had explained earlier, he was on shaky ground.
“Oh, Ryan,” she said, holding tighter to his arms, curling her fingers into his warm skin. “I’m so, so sorry.”
“It’s okay,” he said, moving his head to tuck his chin into the curve between her shoulder and ear. She leaned her face against his, felt a tear fall from her eye onto his cheek.
“Hey, hey,” he said softly, “It’s okay.”
Katie could hear his voice falter and knew his words were as much for himself as they were for her. Suddenly she knew she would do anything, would move Heaven and Earth, to make him feel better...if only she knew what that was.
“Is there anything I can do to...help?” she asked, her own voice shaking.
“You’re doing it now,” he answered.
“What do you mean?”
“Shh, Katie,” he said. “Just let me hold you.” He wrapped his arms tighter around her; it felt simultaneously natural and earth-shattering to be held by him. For the longest time, she’d thought she was just lost without him, that she’d never be able to find someone like him again. She’d settled for Bradley, had done her best with their relationship, knowing all the time, somewhere in the very back of her mind, that he wasn’t The One.
It was Ryan. It was always Ryan.
Why had it taken her so long to come to that seemingly obvious conclusion?
“I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” Ryan said, and she could feel his desire for her as he pulled her in even closer. “I’ve wanted to know what it would be like to feel you against my body, to have you this close to me.”
Katie closed her eyes, letting a moment she’d always wanted wash over her.
“I wanted you to be my first, Katie, but I didn’t think you’d ever feel the same way, so when Sarah came along, I just...”
It was her turn to silence him, so she did, turning her body so that she faced Ryan. She reached up and placed her palms on either side of his gorgeous face—a face forever etched into her brain—and studied the way starlight danced in his hazel eyes, the way his lips looked, slightly parted, waiting for hers. And then she pulled him to her face and pressed her lips over his, the contact pulsing from where their mouths touched all the way to her toes. He kissed her back with greater urgency, gently moving her lips apart with his tongue, pressing his mouth harder against hers and exploring deeper, deeper, until neither of them could breathe.
When they were both so full of need that it was obvious they wouldn’t be able to keep their hands off each other for much longer, Katie pulled away and stood up, leaving a perplexed Ryan on the ground behind her. He grinned up at her, eyes full of boyish mischief, and then he was off the ground, too, chasing her as she jogged gently, careful to watch her steps, along the river’s edge, both wanting him to catch her and uncertain of what might happen if he did.
They were kids again, and it was just another Pumpkin Fest at the campground, Ryan and Katie laughing and playing tag in the darkness after sneaking out of their cabins. It was so familiar...but everything was different.
They were grown-ups now, with heartaches, responsibilities, bills...but something new, too. They’d crossed over a seemingly unsurpassable hill. She had always been afraid of what it would be like on this side—what it would be like for Ryan to know how she felt about him—and she’d always worried that he would scoff at her or run from her or...who knew what else.
But now, even though she hadn’t really said the words...somehow he knew what was in her heart, and instead of running away, he was chasing her.
Katie smiled, slowing to a stop at the water’s edge, the craziness of the past few days and the protection of the darkness’s cloak making her braver than she’d ever felt before. Without a hint of shyness, she began to pull off her clothing, one item at a time. She didn’t even have to turn around to know that she had Ryan in her spell. She could feel energy coming from where he stood about ten feet away, watching as she undressed, the only illumination coming from the soft glow cast by the moon.
Off went her long-sleeved shirt and the last pair of non-maternity jeans in her closet that still fit. She reached around and unsnapped her bra, still facing the river so that Ryan couldn’t see all of her, and, finally, biting her lip and suddenly wondering if she was crazy-high on pregnancy hormones, she shucked her panties, tossing them on the ground behind her.
Without a stitch of clothing left, she turned and glanced over her shoulder, meeting Ryan’s eyes in the moonlight, her long hair grazing her back. Her eyes invited—dared—him to join her, and she didn’t even stop to think about whether the water might be turning cold, the last warm days of summer not hot enough in the daytime to heat it, and she started running.
Katie ran until she reached the water’s edge, then plunged in, the sharp coolness temporarily shocking the wind out of her until she laughed and drew a deep breath. She began to tread water and got her bearings just in time to see Ryan following her motions.
She’d always known his body would be toned—he’d always loved sports and played something or other every season—and man, was she right. Splinters of light bounced off his hard chest as he pulled his shirt over his head and threw it to the side, followed by his jeans, displaying muscular thighs underneath his boxers. Up until then, she’d been grateful for the black cover of night, but now she cursed it, wishing she could see every inch of him in the full light of day.
He didn’t shed the shorts as he walked toward the water.
“Not fair,” she said, teasing him as he came closer to the river.
“If you want to play games, you’d better think about the rules before you get started,” he said in answer.
She tilted her head to the side, enjoying watching the way his body moved under the glinting light as he sauntered toward her with the confident grace of a
panther.
“All right, then,” she said, taking the bait. “Rule number one—no going all the way.” Katie grinned. “There are kids here.”
Ryan put a hand under his chin, considering. “Says the naked woman in the river.”
“We’re far enough from the cabins that no one can see me. And all the girls were asleep when I left except Lucy, who had her nose in a book,” she reasoned.
“Deal,” he said, “but only while we’re here.” He crouched down and Katie swam over until their noses touched. “Once I get you back to town, I make no promises to keep that one.”
“Fair enough,” she acquiesced, weaving her arms through the water to keep afloat. “Your turn.”
“Rule number two,” Ryan said. “No swimming away from me once I get into the water. You’re to stay put.”
“And why is that?” Katie asked, feigning bewilderment.
Ryan put his palms behind him onshore, sliding into the water with an agonizing lack of speed. Katie’s pulse was pounding so hard she could barely focus as he sidled up next to her, his height such that he could touch the bottom of the river, leaving her vulnerable. She gasped and lost her balance when he reached out to her, slipping his hands around her middle to pull her near, pressing her full breasts against his naked skin. The connection set off an ache between her legs, which grew progressively excruciating when he kissed her. Her body went limp in his arms, and his desire for her was undeniable.
“So I can touch every inch of you without you getting away from me,” he said before nibbling on her lip. Katie was helpless at his touch as he moved one arm to caress her back, settling a hand under her bottom to hold her in place while his mouth took hers once again.
He pulled away so suddenly that she gave a little moan of protest. “What’s rule number three?” he asked.
She pulled in air, struggling to catch her breath. “Rule number three,” she whispered into his ear. “Don’t let go.”
And with that, she kissed him again and again until they couldn’t stand it anymore. When it became too much, Katie wriggled out of Ryan’s arms and swam off, following the moonlight’s reflection on the water until she was out of his reach. He trailed closely behind until she stopped to face him again, and they splashed each other all the way back to shore, only to swim out again, remembering what it was like to feel like kids, taking back what they’d lost.
They swam for hours, teasing each other, reveling in the new feeling of their mouths together, their skin floodlit by the moon and stars. And when they were too tired to swim any longer, Ryan dried off Katie’s body, inch by inch, and tugged on his clothes before lifting her into his arms. He carried her closer to the cabins and lit a campfire in the pit outside, wrapping a blanket around her shoulders, and held her close by the firelight.
Katie wasn’t sure whether the warmth coming from Ryan’s body or that of the flames was what finally melted away all her cares, but she drifted off into a deep sleep.
They woke in each other’s arms, sunlight washing over their skin as dawn stretched into morning. The first thing Katie saw when she opened her eyes was Ryan’s face—that face she’d loved since they were children. She reached up to touch him, memorizing every inch—just in case she never got another chance—before pulling herself away. Katie tucked the flannel blanket over his chest and shoulders and up underneath his chin, escaping into her cabin before the night had a chance to catch up with her.
* * *
The ride back to Peach Leaf the next day was the longest of Ryan’s life. All he could think about was the way Katie had looked the night before, her chocolate eyes glimmering in the darkness, communicating her desire far better than any words could, and the way her skin had warmed under his palms as he’d slid his hands against her body, using touch to drink in the curves he couldn’t see in the darkness.
It had taken all his might not to pull her out of the river and take her right there on the bank, but, like Katie, when the moment came, he wanted to know they were completely alone to explore each other fully, without another care in the world.
He kept his eyes on the road as they drove, focusing his attention on Shelby and her turtle in the seat next to him, rather than on the ache he would feel when they parted ways. He’d already begun to plan, to consider the logistics of adopting the girl, but he wasn’t sure the agency would be too keen on giving her up to a single guy with a demanding, full-time job.
He would speak to Katie’s grandmother on Monday and see if she could pull any strings to convince whoever was in charge that he would make a damn good father. And he would. Of that, he was certain. Sarah’s stillbirth had completely crushed him. He’d been terrified, yes, only eighteen at the time, working two jobs to pay for college after being denied help from his father. On those stressful nights when he should have been sleeping, his thoughts had been occupied with worry about how he would support his young family. But none of that could do anything to change the way he felt about that baby. He’d wanted to meet her so badly, had looked forward to the day when he’d see her little face, and his heart had broken when she’d made her way into the world, pale blue and tiny...too late for anyone to save her.
After things ended with Sarah, he’d poured his grief into finishing school and working his way up at a firm under the guidance of a good mentor who’d helped him get a loan when he was ready to start his own business.
Eventually, when he’d had money and a little extra time, he’d found a solid therapist, who helped him work through the guilt he carried at being unable to save his own baby...a daughter whose face was so incredibly beautiful, her expression oddly at peace despite her early entrance into the world.
It still amazed him how much he’d loved someone he had never had a chance to know.
Shelby reminded him so much of that little girl. His heart lurched every time he looked at the sweet person Katie had introduced him to only the day before.
Somehow he managed to keep his cool when they dropped Shelby off at the children’s home, as much for Katie as himself. He knew her hormones were a little shaky with her pregnancy, and he didn’t want her to have any reason to get upset when they said goodbye.
Somewhere inside, he could almost see a family forming right there in his reach—him, Shelby, Katie and her little one—that was close enough to touch, if only he would take it.
Before they left the facility, he pulled Katie’s grandmother aside to speak to her alone, and she promised to get the ball rolling to gather the adoption paperwork, unable to stop smiling. He asked her to keep this from Katie as long as possible. If things didn’t work out, and he knew there was a strong likelihood of that, there wasn’t any point in them both suffering disappointment. It would be his secret with Mrs. Bloom for now, and he would tell Katie when the time was right...after he told her that he was falling for her more and more each day.
Chapter Eleven
The next night, Katie checked her appearance one last time, noting how much different things were now than the last time she’d taken a shower there, waiting for Ryan to show up at her door. She’d spent extra time curling her long hair until it hung down her back in soft waves, and her lips had curved in a helpless smile as she’d donned the necklace with a dragonfly pendant that her mother gave her on her sixteenth birthday.
It was so strange to think that Ryan would see it tonight, an object he’d looked upon a hundred times before, in a completely different way.
She imagined what it would be like when the evening wore on and it was just the two of them, Katie wearing only the necklace.
Her heart skipped a beat and she felt her cheeks warm at the images in her mind. It had taken her the entire drive home to get over the fact that she’d behaved so completely absurdly with Ryan the night before at the river. It wasn’t like her to be so bold, to take risks like that with her image...or her heart. She knew he would never say a word about it to anyone—it would remain between them—yet it still had the power to make her blush.
> Not that he’d complained.
She’d seen the way his eyes lit up when he’d stared at the few parts of her naked body he’d been able to see in the darkness, and she couldn’t wait to see them canvass her that night.
She swiped on lipstick and turned out the bathroom light, nearly bumping into June as she stepped into the hallway.
“Nosy Rosy,” she said, poking June in her ribs.
June only shrugged. “My dating life sucks. I have to live vicariously through you.”
Katie rolled her eyes. “Your dating life does not suck,” she said.
“That’s because it doesn’t exist,” June answered, crossing her arms over her chest as she admired Katie’s outfit, one she’d helped pick.
“You look amazing, by the way,” she said, letting out a whistle.
Katie did a little spin. “All thanks to you, my friend.”
June gave her a hug. “I told you this would happen, didn’t I?”
“Nothing’s happened yet,” Katie said, crossing to her room to grab her purse. “It’s just dinner, that’s all.”
“I can only hope not.”
They burst into laughter, only stopping at the sound of the doorbell.
“That’s him,” Katie said. “Wish me luck.”
“No need,” June said, her confident voice boosting Katie’s nerves a little. “In that dress, he’ll be unable to resist you.”
“After this long,” Katie replied, “he’d better not.”
She headed to answer the door, and the sight of Ryan dressed up took her breath away as he grabbed her hand and led her to his truck.
He took her to one of the fanciest places in town, a gorgeous Italian restaurant on Main Street—one she’d never been able to afford on her own. She’d admired the menu in passing on more than one occasion, stopping to stare at the delicious-looking dishes on her way from the museum to her car.
She hoped she’d dressed up enough for the little bistro in a black dress that was a little more revealing than the clothes she usually wore. Looking down, she could see a hint of cleavage, one of the perks of pregnancy being that her chest was slightly more ample than its usual state. June had assured Katie that she looked great and that she was being overly modest.
