Heartfire

by Karen Rose Smith

  Tessa tied a weight to the end of the string so it hung like a pendulum. Max pressed the weight against the wall, took the string in the middle, and pulled it back like the string in a bow. When he released it, it pinged against the wall, making a straight blue line.

  Tessa was right next to him, wallpaper in hand. He could smell her shampoo. He could almost remember the softness of her tumbled curls. Desire mounted, and he took the roll of wallpaper from her. "I'll unroll. You cut."

  Max's gruffness surprised Tessa. A few minutes ago, he'd been smiling at her. Ryan's room was certainly larger than a tent, but she felt the same way she had in the canvas confines. Aware. Much too aware of Max as a man and herself as a woman. His grey T-shirt and black jeans showed off his physique as a suit never could. There was male power there, in the muscles, in the strength evident as he'd shifted furniture to the center of the room.

  Max rolled the prepasted paper backwards, with the pattern on the inside, and dipped it into the pan of water. He waited a few moments, then took it to the middle of the wall where the chalk marked a true vertical line. Letting the paper unroll from the ceiling, he pressed the upper section with his hand, heading toward the middle.

  Tessa saw the lower section leaning away from the line. She took the edge to pull it sideways and gave a little yank. But the yank was too strong.

  Max grunted.

  When she looked up, she saw the wallpaper had come loose and rolled onto his head. Straightening, she saw the paper had twisted and the pasted side had landed flat on his hair!

  A giggle rose to her throat, but seeing the expression on Max's face, she didn't let it loose. "Hold still and I'll see if I can save it."

  "What about me?" he growled.

  She lifted the corner slowly. "I'll try not to pull out all your hair."

  A few strands stuck as she gently lifted the paper. Moving away from him, ignoring the pull toward him and the urge to wipe the paste from his hair, she tried to attach the paper onto the wall again. When she dropped her hands, it fell. She hazarded a look at Max and saw his lips twitch.

  In an amused tone, he asked, "Do you think somebody's trying to tell us something?"

  Tired of fighting her impulses, tired of keeping a distance from Max, and as if it were the most natural thing in the world to do, Tessa ran her fingers lightly over the pasty section of Max's hair. "That you need a new spiked hairstyle? Your students would love that."

  The beginnings of his smile disappeared, and she knew she should step back. She couldn't. Something in his eyes compelled her not to move at all.

  Chapter Seven

  Tessa felt Max's hands on her shoulders—strong, large hands that tempted her with their warmth. His brown eyes were the darkest she'd ever seen them. His expression was almost pained, and she couldn't keep from reaching toward him again and stroking his jaw.

  With a groan, Max bent his head and sealed his lips to hers. She never expected the fire shooting to every place in her body as their lips touched. She never expected passion to rise up so quickly. She never expected the need that pulled her closer to him.

  Max wrapped his arms around her, and "close" took on new meaning. He was tall and strong and hard. She could feel his heart pounding against her breasts. Hers seemed to thump in the same fast rhythm, beat for beat. She curled her fingers around his upper arms to steady herself. Max's smell, his feel, his desire pressing against her made her giddy.

  When his tongue slid along the seam of her lips, she didn't hesitate but opened to him. The thrust of his tongue was demanding and stirred a squall of feeling she couldn't begin to name. She held on tighter.

  He thrust deeper and swept her mouth feverishly as if he'd never have enough time if he did it slowly. She wanted to savor every moment. Stroking her tongue against his, she felt him shudder. His hands stroked the small of her back. He was fully aroused and she could feel his need as deeply as her own as she trembled in his arms. As exciting as his kiss was, it made her feel grounded, as if this were where she belonged.

  Belong? Her? She thought that was what she'd always wanted—to belong. Yet suddenly the idea scared her. Belonging meant opening her heart, making herself vulnerable, giving up freedom, taking a risk. She might take risks in her work but...

  Max pressed her tighter against him, and she forgot about risks, she forgot about being vulnerable, she forgot about freedom and everything but his kiss and being held in his arms. She went pliant against him, raised her arms and laced her hands in his hair.

  Max groaned deeply and moved against her. Her heart skipped and her breath caught. She'd never known desire could be like this, that she'd feel so alive, so much a woman, so reckless. His thick hair caressed her fingers as she felt its vitality, as she reveled in its texture.

  As her tongue swept over his, responded to his, danced with his, the world and all its concerns blurred. She wanted him. He wanted her. Her body hummed with a primal beat, her pulse raced, and breathing seemed non-essential. Max relentlessly discovered every secret of her mouth until no thoughts were the best thoughts and only feelings mattered.

  But then all the excitement, the wonderful sensations, the intimacy, were cut off. Max abruptly raised his head, pulled away and dropped his arms. She heard her own gasp of protest as she felt deserted, cold and empty. Opening her eyes, she tried to get a grip on her balance as well as her emotions.

  Max realized they'd been rushing forward without any thought to where they were headed...and where passion like this would end. "What are we doing?"

  He could see the exact moment Tessa withdrew from him. The passion-induced glaze left her eyes, and he could read nothing from her expression. The change stunned him. A minute ago, she'd been a responsive, emotion-filled woman. And now... She stood straight, calm and coolly composed.

  "We both know better. We both know nothing can come of this."

  As Max had kissed Tessa, he'd felt more alive than he had in years. But then thoughts of Leslie had seeped through and guilt stabbed at him. It still lingered. Yet he was a little annoyed that Tessa could so easily slough off a kiss that had felt as if it could destroy him.

  "Maybe we should talk about it."

  "There's nothing to talk about, Max. We'll both forget it. Just as we forgot the kiss at the campsite...just as we forgot those kisses nine years ago." She plucked the roll of wallpaper from the bed.

  Max couldn't push her. If they talked, he didn't know what he'd say because his own thoughts weren't clear.

  Her words still echoed in the room. Nothing can come of it. Something could come of it, all right. Heartache. Neither of them needed that.

  ***

  The following Saturday afternoon Max shot hoops in front of the garage, every once in a while glancing over at Ryan, who was racing his miniature cars down the sliding board. Taking the basketball to the far side of the macadam, Max aimed for a hook shot...and missed. He felt as if he'd been missing all week. Ever since that last kiss...

  He tossed the ball again and sank it. That didn't make him feel any better. He'd had about two minutes alone with Tessa this week. If she wasn't doing something with Ryan, she was working in her room. She was definitely avoiding him. Well, she couldn't avoid him tonight. Tonight he was taking her to the dance.

  Max stopped shooting as Ryan ran over to him. He offered his son the ball. "Want to try?"

  Ryan grinned and took it. "Yeah."

  As he had many times before, Max showed his son the proper position to shoot. But Ryan's lack of height hampered him more than his lack of strength. Seeing Ryan was discouraged after three tries, Max swung the eight-year-old onto his shoulders. "Okay, sport. Sink it."

  Ryan giggled and made a basket. Then another and another. Before he shot again, he asked Max, "Will Tessa be back soon?"

  Max checked his watch. She still had a couple of hours before supper. "I'm not sure. When women shop, they lose track of time." Of course, Tessa could be different. She probably knew exactly what she wanted and where she want
ed to buy it.

  "But she won't forget to come back home, will she?" Ryan asked, an odd note in his voice.

  Max swung Ryan from his shoulders and set him on the ground. "No, she won't. She's going to help us make tacos for supper and then she and I are going to the dance."

  "And Flo's gonna put me to bed."

  "That's right. You'll probably be asleep when we get home."

  "But you'll come in and say good night?"

  "Sure will."

  Ryan smiled. "Tessa's birthday's soon. Are we gonna get her a present?"

  That was news to Max. He wondered if Ryan had misunderstood something Tessa had said. "Did she say exactly when her birthday is?"

  Ryan shook his head. "She said she'd like a super shooter like mine for her birthday."

  "That doesn't mean it's soon."

  "Uh-huh. She said it's not far away. Can we get her a super shooter?"

  Max chuckled. "Maybe we can find something else, too."

  "Dad, Tessa's staying a long time, isn't she?"

  "Yes, she is."

  "I like her here."

  Max gave his son a huge hug. "So do I." He wasn’t just saying that for Ryan’s benefit. He realized he meant it.

  ***

  Max had rarely seen Tessa in a dress—his wedding, Ryan's christening. There was nothing special about this one, except the way she looked in it. He pushed himself up from the sofa and went to the bottom of the staircase as she came down the steps. The deep green sweaterlike material matched the color of her eyes and looked just as soft and inviting. The flared skirt caressed her hips and swayed against her knees as she reached the first floor. But it was the tiny buttons from her neck to her waist that fascinated Max. They resembled tiny pieces of jade. In a way, she looked conservative, proper, casual, but in others ways...

  His heart pounded and he thought again about their kisses, her easy dismissal of them, his heated response to them.

  She smiled. "Do you think this is all right?"

  Unsure wasn't a word he'd associate with Tessa, but she seemed a little uncertain now. "You look terrific. I bet Kevin will ask you to dance as soon as we get there."

  "Isn't he bringing Jenny?"

  "Not this time. Supposedly they're both coming alone."

  Tessa went to the foyer closet and pulled out her trench coat. Max had seen her ironing out the wrinkles earlier in the week. Did that mean she'd looked forward to tonight?

  Ryan skipped into the living room from the kitchen, a chocolate chip cookie that Flo had baked in each hand. Flo followed him with his glass of milk.

  Max folded Ryan and the cookies into his arms and gave him a hug. "We'll see you in the morning."

  Ryan pulled back to look at Tessa. "Pancakes for breakfast?"

  She laughed. "You bet." She kissed the tip of her finger then blew the kiss to Ryan.

  Ryan grinned and pretended to catch it.

  Max felt a constriction in his throat. He stood and said to Flo, "We should be back by midnight."

  His neighbor set Ryan's milk on a coaster on the coffee table. "Don't you worry about the time. You just go and have fun."

  Max didn't think a high-school dance was the place to have fun. But then he looked at Tessa, saw the sparkle in her eyes, the color in her cheeks, and reconsidered.

  After they were in the car, he said, "I'm surprised you volunteered for this. You'll probably be bored."

  She laid her hand on the armrest in the sedan. "Teenagers are never boring, are they?"

  He shrugged. "Our job's to patrol to make sure no one slips liquor in. Or to break up any couple who gets too...involved."

  She chuckled. "They probably love that."

  "Sometimes I think they do it on purpose to embarrass the chaperones."

  "Supposedly their hormones are running wild at this age."

  "Did yours?" His question surprised him as much as her.

  After a moment of silence, she swiveled toward him, batting her lashes with exaggerated coyness. "Why, Mr. Winthrop, are you asking me to divulge the secrets of my youth?"

  He could answer in the same teasing manner. He'd missed her bantering. But he didn't feel like teasing tonight. "Do you have many secrets?"

  He thought he heard a small sigh before she said, "Not about that. You heard what I told Kevin and Jenny. I worked as much as I could when I was in high school."

  "What about college?"

  "In college, too. I won a scholarship and got a loan, but I had to work to pay for books and other expenses."

  No wonder Tessa's life was so focused, that she was so serious about her work. She'd sacrificed to get where she was today. "Tonight you can pretend you're back in high school."

  Again, a pause.

  "Maybe. Or maybe I can just enjoy chaperoning a high-school dance with the nicest man in town."

  Nice? She thought he was nice? Somehow, that wasn't the adjective he'd prefer she use.

  The inside of the fire hall had been transformed into the land of Oz, although popular music blared from speakers along one wall. Tessa scanned the room, appreciating the mural of Emerald City taped on the wall, the yellow brick road weaving under the tables on one side, the scarecrow, tin man and lion standing near the refreshment table.

  The scarecrow was fashioned from corn husks and old clothes, with a stuffed burlap bag for the head. The tin man's body was a giant aluminum can, his head a smaller one. His arms and legs were aluminum strips. Tessa smiled when she looked closely at the lion. It was a mannequin dressed in a lion costume. It didn't have a mask, just whiskers attached around the mouth.

  "Would you like me to hang up your coat?"

  Tessa turned to Max. He looked more handsome tonight than she'd ever seen him—the way his charcoal suit fit his broad shoulders, the way his thick dark hair lay obediently across his forehead, the way his eyes sparked whenever their gazes met. But those sparks didn't mean anything. He'd been sorry about their kisses...that had been easy to see. And the more she thought about it, the more she'd realized they had been mistakes. She was leaving in a few weeks to cover the Summit, wasn't she? She'd never been to Norway before and she wanted to travel through the Scandinavian countries while she had the chance. She was planning interviews on their health-care system, child care...

  "Tessa?"

  Her fingers went to the buttons of her coat. As she unfastened the last one, she felt Max's hands on her shoulders. When he helped her shrug out of the garment, his hand brushed her neck under her hair. She thought he let it linger there a second, but she must have been mistaken.

  Teenagers started to pour through the door. Tessa made her way to the refreshment table where she spied about six adults. As she approached the punch bowl, she realized one of them was Mrs. Bartlett who was speaking to a grey-haired gentleman.

  Ryan’s teacher recognized Tessa immediately. "Hello. I heard you and Mr. Winthrop would be here tonight."

  "News travels fast in Jenkins."

  Mrs. Bartlett laughed. "My niece has Mr. Winthrop for algebra. She's the one who roped me into this." The teacher turned to the older gentleman beside her. "Ms. Kahill, this is Al Weaver, assistant principal at the high school. Al, this is a...friend of Mr. Winthrop's."

  The grey-haired man gave Tessa a thorough evaluation and offered his hand. "It's good to meet you. How long have you known Max?"

  His obvious interest in her answer made Tessa feel as if she were taking some type of exam. "Nine years."

  "I see."

  He waited for more information, but she only smiled politely. Being a journalist had taught her the value of pauses.

  Finally he said, "If you've known Max that long, then you know how much he loves basketball."

  This man was heading someplace, though she wasn't sure where. "I know he enjoyed coaching," she said cautiously.

  "My point exactly. He's one of the best basketball coaches around. I hate to see his talent go to waste this year as he sits out the season."

  Ah, hah. Weaver wanted Ma
x back on board, but for now that wasn't what Max wanted or what Ryan needed. "I don't believe he sees it that way."

  As if he didn't hear her, Weaver went on, "We found someone to replace him, but the man's not nearly as good. We could still use Max as a co-coach."

  "You should be telling this to Max, not me."

  "Oh, I have. Weekly, since the year began. But he's not taking me seriously. I understand the two of you are close. Maybe you'd have some influence."

  He understood they were close? How did he know that when she didn't even know for sure? "Mr. Weaver, Max does what he thinks is best for his life. I have no influence over that. He might love coaching, but he loves his son more. Right now, Ryan needs him. Sometimes a person does what he should do rather than what he wants to do."

  The wind went out of the man's sails. "I suppose that's true. Of course, family has to come first."

  Suddenly Max was beside Tessa, his arm companionably brushing hers. After greetings all around, Weaver drifted toward the crowd of dancers. Tessa didn't know if Max had overheard their conversation. She also didn't know whether or not she'd overstepped her boundaries. Lately, they were getting more and more difficult to figure out.

  Mrs. Bartlett ladled a glass of punch. "I was hoping to see you tonight."

  Max frowned. "Your last e-mail said Ryan was doing better."

  "I've seen some improvement in Ryan's attitude lately. He's more exuberant. Some of his work has improved, some hasn't. Why don't I e-mail you a copy of the two extremes and you can see what you think."

  "You know, any time you need to talk to me—"

  She nodded. "Just call. I know that. I know you care, Mr. Winthrop. We will get to the bottom of this. I still believe his biggest problem is not mingling with other children."

  Tessa surveyed the large room, the teenagers obviously having fun. "Could a party help?"

  Mrs. Bartlett took a sip of her punch. "What do you have in mind?"

  "Halloween's coming up. We could have a Halloween party at the house and invite some of his classmates."