I wanted more. I wanted to kiss him, to press myself into his arms, but I knew I wouldn’t. Even with several glasses of wine in me, I wasn’t the most confident woman when it came to intimacy. Jack had pretty much killed what confidence I might have had with his lack of enthusiasm for almost anything I tried in that arena.
My nerves were tingling, my stomach tightened, and I struggled with myself. Connor was touching me, an indication of interest, right? I should have been able to lean in, to encourage him—but the time I’d spent with Jack, when I hadn’t realized he was actually much more with someone else than with me, it had warped my perception. I didn’t trust the signals I thought I was getting. And I didn’t know if kissing Connor Charles was the right thing, at least right now.
Connor seemed unfazed by my hesitation. “May I?” he asked softly, lifting a hand to my jaw and hesitating until I nodded, then softly cupping my cheek. “You’re so pretty, Maddie,” he said softly, and I found myself believing him. His hand was warm on my skin, and I leaned into it, smiling at him partially out of embarrassment. He moved his thumb then, letting it graze my lower lip softly, so gently I wasn’t sure it was even happening. Warmth blossomed inside me, and I could have stayed in that moment for eternity, staring at him in front of the glowing fire.
Connor sat still for a long time, and then leaned in nearer, tentatively. “Is this okay?” he asked, his voice lower as his eyes darkened.
I smiled and nodded, tentatively reaching one hand up to his hair, pushing it from the side of his face and letting my fingers rake through the thick waves. I loved the way the thick auburn locks felt running through my fingers. They were full and soft, and every bit as incredible as they looked. “More than okay,” I said, surprised at the ragged whisper of my own voice.
Connor leaned nearer, and I wasn’t sure if he was going to kiss me, but I knew I wanted him to. He pressed his forehead to mine and neither of us said anything. The fire crackled behind us as we sat, breathing the other in. Neither of us moved as we stayed there, electricity flinging between us, our lips so close to touching that I could almost feel it, a phantom kiss.
Being this close to Connor was overwhelming. There was that scent—cinnamon and pine, and something else, something masculine and strong. But there was another feeling that came from having him so close, and it was confusing. It reminded me of being a child in some way, not in that I felt like a little girl, not at all. But the happiness I’d felt running these mountains wild as a girl, the freedom and lightness that came with youth, with being oblivious to the weight the world would one day put upon me, it was all tangled up in the way I felt being near Connor.
After what felt like years in suspended animation, our foreheads touching and our hands resting along the side of the other’s face, Connor inhaled a sharp breath and then softly touched his lips to mine. And something unlocked, released like a gate being opened, a harness removed, and I was lighter in that moment than I could remember being. Connor’s lips were soft at first, then more insistent, and finally the kiss deepened and our bodies found each other as we melded on the couch.
It could have been minutes, it might have been hours, and in that time we became more than two lonely people who’d been struggling on separate paths to make sense of the worlds we’d unexpectedly found ourselves inhabiting. Instead, for a little while, we shared each other’s burdens, told each other secrets in the form of kisses and caresses, whispers and quiet laughter in front of a glowing fire.
“It’s not the right thing to say,” Connor said after a while, sitting back and running a finger across the lips he’d been kissing. “But I want you to stay tonight.”
Surprise made me widen my eyes and sit up straighter. “We don’t know each other well, Connor.” I wanted to say yes, if only to spend a night surrounded by that warmth and strange familiarity that came in being by his side, but I knew it would make me seem desperate. Or fast.
“I know,” he said, and there was a hint of pain in his voice. “So why do I feel like I’ve known you forever?”
There it was—he felt it too. I wasn’t a big believer in karma or destiny or anything like fate. But if we both felt like there was some link between us, some kind of bond that transcended our current time, our current situations, then was it wrong to just embrace it?
“I’ll stay,” I said, surprising us both. “Between the wine and food…and, this,” I said, failing in my effort to include everything happening between us, “it would be hard to leave.”
“Good,” he said, and a smile spread across his face that made my heart swell. It was nice to see Connor happy—I wasn’t sure I’d ever seen him smile like that before.
We stayed before the fire for a long time, and eventually, Connor took my hand and led me upstairs.
*
When I woke, it was to a steady tapping sound. Light, rhythmic, like soft rain hitting the windows. But it wasn’t raining. I opened my eyes to bright sunlight streaming in through arched windows revealing the tops of trees stretching for the limitless blue sky. And when I rolled over, there was Connor. Typing furiously. He was absorbed completely, focused on his work.
I watched him with sleepy eyes, resisting the urge to smooth the furrow between his brows, to run my fingers over the curls on his bare chest. I contemplated interrupting him completely in another way, but he stopped typing as the thought formed in my mind. His lips curled slightly and he turned to look at me.
“You’re awake.”
“You’re busy.”
“I know, I hope I didn’t wake you. I didn’t want to leave you, so I brought it up here.”
I smiled. He didn’t want to leave me. I loved the sound of that. “You didn’t wake me. I’m glad you’re writing again.”
He sighed. “I am too. It’s coming fast. Like these are words I’m supposed to write. That’s how it’s been before, when things are good.”
“So things are good?”
He slid the laptop onto the nightstand and pulled me into his arms. “In so many ways.”
His phone rang downstairs, breaking the moment. He planted a sweet kiss on my forehead and then slid from the bed. “I should get that, though I don’t want to. It’s only ever bad news.”
My heart sank a little as he walked out the door. He wore the flannel pajama bottoms he’d been wearing when I arrived the night before and I wondered if those were his working pants as I stretched in his bed for a few minutes more. Finally, when I heard his voice on the phone downstairs, I rolled out of bed and got dressed. I was thankful I hadn’t worn the sundress, since I’d be taking a walk of shame around the meadow.
When I got downstairs, Connor was making breakfast, the phone beside him.
“Stay for pancakes?” he asked.
“Is there anything you don’t do?” I laughed.
“Nope. Learned to fend for myself at an early age.”
He smiled as he said it, but I wondered about his childhood. It sounded like maybe it was true, that he and his sister had been on their own. I wondered about the circumstances that would have left them alone, but it was not the time for heavy questions.
“Anything important on the phone?” It felt intrusive, but I found myself dangerously close to caring about him, wanting to help shoulder his burdens in some small way, as if I didn’t have enough of my own.
“No, not really. My lawyer. He doesn’t think there’s a solid case against me. The detectives are trying, but it seems like it’s turning into a smear campaign. He said there’s some tabloid talk at this point, but nothing substantial.”
“I hope it’s not bad,” I said. I had no idea how a person handled having their name splashed across magazines in supermarkets. I doubted I’d ever be high profile enough for anyone to care.
“Nothing I’m not used to. Just another version of the ‘guy who writes sick and twisted must be sick and twisted’ story. I just hope Amanda turns up soon. Just because they can’t pin it on me doesn’t mean she doesn’t need help.”
I shuddered, thinking about what kinds of things might have befallen the pretty teenager. Whatever they were, I was confident that Connor was not involved, but it didn’t lessen the potential for tragedy. “Right. Okay, well, if you’re sure I can’t help, then I should get home, actually,” I told him. Cameron was coming today. But I didn’t think I needed to get into that topic, since Connor clearly had enough to worry about.
“I’ll walk you out,” he said, pulling a pan off the stove.
“No need.” I smiled, my confidence built up by the night we’d just spent. “Just kiss me goodbye.”
He rounded the counter and pulled me against his chest, pressing his soft lips against mine. “Thank you for staying, Maddie. Will you think about the house? I want to help.”
I nodded, my knees a little weak from his kiss. I gathered my things and walked to the door, feeling all wrong. I didn’t want to leave, I realized. I could stay here forever, live in the warm familiar comfort of Connor’s house.
But the real world was out there, waiting for me, and I wasn’t the type of woman to let a man rescue me. At least not this time.
Chapter 13
I had an afternoon shift at the diner, and I’d told Cameron to meet me there. It was tough navigating the village if you weren’t used to it, and while Cameron had been there as a kid, I doubted he’d find his way easily around now. The streets weren’t clearly labeled, and no one really used the street names anyway. Asking for directions to a particular cabin up here was like playing charades with a few words thrown in. “Look for the cedar tree,” people would say. “The one that’s shaped like a question mark. And after that, turn right around the big mossy boulder.” Not that helpful for city dwellers. Cameron might’ve been able to find his way, since he’d been older when we’d been here as kids, but it was easier to have him turn off the main highway into the main part of town than to have him driving in circles around the residential area if he didn’t remember the way.
I was glad Cam was coming up, though I was nervous about seeing him. He was angry with me, for a host of good reasons. But if there was a place that might bring us close again, it was here, under these trees that had known us as kids, near the rocks that had been our castles, and the logs and streams that had been our playgrounds.
I knew Cam would be disappointed to see the half-formed monstrosity standing in the place we used to camp. He’d given me permission to build, and even signed over his legal claim on the property. But he’d done it to be rid of Jack, who had pestered him with lawyers and complications until he did. I wondered how much Jack had paid him to walk away from our childhood. And I wondered if Cam regretted it at all.
When I arrived, the diner held the usual few regulars. Chance and Sam were there, sitting in a booth by the window, and Miranda was shifting her weight nervously behind the counter, stealing glances at Chance.
I wandered over to their table after sticking my bag under the counter and giving Miranda a wave. I felt like I owed them some kind of update. It’d been months since there’d been any progress on the house.
“Hey guys,” I said, bringing the coffee pot over with me. “Staying busy?”
“Hey, Maddie,” Chance said, his blue eyes smiling along to match the sexy mouth. “We’re busy enough. We’ve got a job putting in some double panes up around the bend past the Ridgewood trailhead, and then we’re finishing the Taylor’s shed. They want to turn it into a guesthouse.”
I smiled at that. A guesthouse? It’d be nice to have a house at all. “I’m glad there’s work to do. I don’t have much to report on my own place.”
“You might want us to come wrap it in plastic for the winter, though.” Chance did the talking, but Sam was nodding. “We already put down a waterproof subfloor, so you shouldn’t have water damage there.”
I nodded. I think they’d explained that to me while they’d worked on it. But I hadn’t been listening back then.
“Thanks,” I said. “I’ll let you know about the plastic. Any idea what that might cost?”
Sam shook his head and Chance fastened his eyes on his coffee cup for a second. “No charge, Maddie.” He looked back up at me.
His words hit me like a fist to the gut, and my chin went up. “Don’t do that. Don’t do that pity thing.”
Chance looked guilty and I saw him catch Sam’s eye. “Nope, it’s not about that. It’s part of the deal we already made. It’s our job to protect the foundation if we don’t finish building before winter.”
“But it’s not your fault you didn’t finish building.” I wasn’t sure if he was telling me the truth or if this was a pity offer.
“No, but the contract is the same.”
Whether it was generosity or pity, I kept finding myself in the position of having to accept help. I couldn’t solve this problem myself, regardless of what my pride said. “Okay. Thanks, guys. Coffee’s on me this afternoon. Pie, too.”
They both smiled, and Sam raised his cup to me in a silent toast.
I delivered them each a big piece of Frank’s famous apple pie and thanked them again.
That was when the bell over the door jangled, signaling the entrance of the brother I hadn’t seen in more than three years.
Cameron looked much the same as I remembered. He looked around, getting his bearings. He was lean and tall, with a goatee and short clipped dark hair. His eyes were small, perceptive, and he typically dressed in black. A tattoo snaked up one arm. It had always seemed to work with the ladies. A petite woman stood at his side, looking around with interest. She was frail, thin, and small. And her eyes were slightly sunken under a bob of wispy blond hair. She was pretty in a fragile way. It had to be Jess, the sister-in-law I’d never met.
Cameron caught sight of me, and our eyes met. No expression crossed his face. Instead, he broke the gaze and helped the small woman into a booth near the door, whispering into her ear as he made sure she was comfortable. Then he straightened up and walked toward me with long purposeful strides as she smiled at me across the space and waved a hand.
The first thing I’d felt on seeing my big brother was love. The pure joyful admiration that I’d always felt as a child washed through me. Here was my protector, my guardian, my defender. And the next thing I felt, as he moved toward me, was fear. Fear that maybe nothing would ever go back to the way it was supposed to be.
“Maddie,” he said, coming to a stop before me. No hug. No nothing.
I stood still, wringing my apron between my hands. “Cameron.” I tried a smile. “I’m so happy to see you.”
He made a noise. A cross between a sigh and a “humph.” There was no way I could twist it in my mind to sound like, “I’m happy to see you, too.”
I realized, as he stared at me with cold eyes, that I might possibly have sacrificed the one relationship that mattered in my life in service to the cold broken shell of my marriage to Jack.
“Do you have time to talk?” he asked.
“I will in about fifteen minutes when my shift ends. Do you want something to eat or drink? Can you wait?” I was talking fast, nervous.
“Yeah.” He turned around and walked away, taking the seat across from the woman at the table. I followed him, picking up menus from the counter as I passed.
I put the menus down in front of Cam and the woman and smiled at her.
“You must be Jess.”
Her smile widened and she stood up, sticking a hand out for me to shake.
“Maddie, it’s so nice to meet you finally.”
I took her hand and smiled at her. “You too.”
A strange look crossed her face and she pulled me into a hug. I stood awkwardly in her embrace for a second, surprise and my own aversion to touching strangers getting the best of me before I managed to hug her back. It was nice, actually. Between Miranda and Jess, I just might become a hugger yet.
I released her, and I wanted to thank her for keeping a tiny strand of connection between Cam and me, for making sure this relationship didn’t die com
pletely. But Cam was sitting at the table seething over his menu, so I just nodded.
“It’s wonderful to meet you,” I said as she slid back into the booth. Cam looked upset, definitely. Not mad, exactly. His expression was unreadable and it was making me wildly nervous. I had no idea what to do, so I ended up standing, holding my order pad before me.
“It’s so great to finally meet you, too. I think we’ll need a minute,” Jess said.
I nodded and went back behind the counter.
Miranda was staring at me, her eyes full of questions. I bowed my head as I walked toward her. The full extent of the damage I’d caused to the relationship I’d once had with my brother began to weigh on me, like an iron veil placed atop my head. I could hardly stand under it.
“Who is that?” Miranda asked quietly.
I was trying to stop tears from gathering in my eyes as I squatted down beneath the counter and pretended to organize empty salt shakers on a shelf. “My brother. And his wife.”
Miranda nodded. I could see the questions in her eyes, but I knew that even she wouldn’t ask them when I was about to burst into tears. “Let me know if you need any help,” she said, putting a hand on my back.
I smiled at her and took a few deep breaths before standing up. “I think Chance and Sam could use some more coffee,” I said, hoping to distract her. It worked. She immediately flushed and dropped the pen she’d been holding. As she bent down to retrieve it, her head made fierce contact with the edge of the counter, making a resounding thump.
“Oh!” she cried. She stood back up, a hand on her forehead and a distressed look on her face. “Thanks for trying,” she said. “It’s hopeless. I can’t even form a sentence around him.”
I glanced at Chance. He was deep in conversation with his brother. There was no denying that he was one incredible specimen of a man, and honestly, his brother was pretty hot, too. If my own mind wasn’t so clouded by the book-writing fire god, and if Chance and Sam hadn’t witnessed some of the lowest points of my divorce—smeared makeup, wailing crying, excessive drinking, and more—I might be interested in one of them myself. But Miranda was right to be drawn to Chance. He was a catch. “Just go ask if they need coffee. Then ask what they’re working on,” I suggested. “It’s dead in here. You have time to chat.”
Love Rebuilt Page 14
