“You’re hungry.”
Chrissie’s nod was stiff, distrustful.
“Breakfast in bed, was it?” he asked in a sarcastic tone.
At first Chrissie was going to disabuse him of that idea, then decided she should let him believe what he wanted. He didn’t know her, and time had proved he never had known her. Not really. “Something like that.” She said the words flippantly.
He reached behind her, his hand grazing her ear, and twisted the cupboard knob. The door instantly sprang open. The top of her ear, where his finger had inadvertently touched, burned hotly. She didn’t want his touch to affect her like this.
“You can leave now, thank you very much,” she muttered fiercely.
“I’m hungry, too,” he said. Leaning forward, he grabbed a can from the shelf. Wanting to avoid any further chance of contact with him, Chrissie stepped to one side, but all she managed to do was position herself more securely in his arms.
His ability to fluster her only irritated her more. She stiffened, and Scott’s brows arched when he noticed her reaction.
“I’ll get out of your way,” she offered, eager to escape the circle of his arms.
He didn’t respond, nor did he move.
She watched as his eyes narrowed. Wondering how much he could see in the firelight, she prayed that not a hint of what she really felt was reflected on her face. Her heartbeat was out of control, and her mouth had gone completely dry. She didn’t dare moisten her lips for fear he’d read that as an invitation to kiss her.
“Scott…let me go.” She waited for him to release her.
He did so with obvious reluctance, dropping his arms to his sides. He stepped away, and she saw his eyes harden—and then he did something so unexpected, so underhanded, that for one shocking moment, Chrissie couldn’t believe it.
He kissed her.
Not in the gentle sweet way she remembered. Not the cherished kisses of their youth, the memory of which she’d carried with her all these years. Instead, his mouth was hard on hers, the kiss wild and dangerous, stealing the very breath from her lungs.
Chrissie gasped and would have protested further if Scott had allowed it. Pinned against the cupboard, Chrissie had no means of escape. She tried to break it off, tried not to enjoy the familiar taste of him. It’d been five years since he’d last kissed her. She shouldn’t remember, shouldn’t savor his touch. She was strong and capable. Yes, she was. But one kiss and already she could feel herself weakening. He’d hurt her deeply, but she found herself thinking there was probably a legitimate reason for the things he’d done. Already she was making excuses for him!
“No!” She wrenched away.
He hesitated, eyes puzzled. “Why did you…?”
Oh, what the hell. But if he was going to kiss her, it would be on her terms, not his. Grabbing him by the shirt collar, she jerked his face toward hers. If he wanted to kiss, then it would be a kiss he wouldn’t soon forget.
Scott gave a deep growl and half lifted her from the floor. Her feet dangled several inches off the ground, but by this point Chrissie wasn’t about to let a little thing like suspended animation distract her. The kiss was unrestrained, intense, and she let it continue, wanting to make sure he knew she hadn’t been lying home at nights wondering about him.
When he ended it, his breathing was ragged. Hers, too. Chrissie pressed the back of her hand to her lips and boldly met his look.
“I hope that answers your questions,” she said as pleasantly as she could.
“Well…not really.”
He reached for her, but she was quick enough to sidestep him. “No, that was a mistake, and one that won’t happen again.”
“Or what?” he demanded. “You’ll take me to court?” Scott returned to the main part of the cabin, dropped into the chair, then leaned forward and ran his fingers through his hair. “Tell me about him,” he said.
“Who?”
“Joel.”
Chrissie could hardly believe her ears. “Joel! You want to hear about Joel?”
His response was to glare at her from across the room.
Outraged, Chrissie glared right back. “Is that why you kissed me, because you couldn’t bear the thought of me being with another man?” Whatever appetite she’d experienced earlier faded away, and she merely felt hollow, not hungry. Her legs weren’t all that steady, either. Shocked and a little disoriented, she sank onto the far end of the sofa.
This explained everything. He was jealous. Everything he’d said and done had been prompted by his fear that she was involved with someone else. The minute he learned Joel was really Joelle, his interest would wane. It was all a game to him.
A game Chrissie refused to play any longer. “For your information, it isn’t Joel I go to see, it’s Joelle.”
Frowning, he looked up. “Joelle?”
“She’s twelve, and I’m her mentor.”
“Are you saying—” he spoke slowly, deliberately “—it isn’t a man you fly out to spend time with every other weekend?”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying. Not a man. A twelve-year-old girl.”
“But you said—”
“I said nothing. All right,” she added, wanting to be as fair as possible, “I might have let you believe it was a man, but you were the one who suggested it in the first place. I don’t know who gave you that impression, but—”
“Ben,” he muttered, his frown deepening.
Chrissie closed her eyes and shook her head. She’d mentioned Joelle once to Mary, who must have told Ben. Clearly he’d either misheard or jumped to the wrong conclusion or both.
“You talked to Ben about me?” she asked suddenly. She didn’t like the idea of Scott discussing her—with Ben or anyone else. That thought angered her even more. “You have some nerve, I’ll say that for you.”
“Chrissie—”
“Don’t Chrissie me. I’m not a naive sixteen-year-old, nor do I have stars in my eyes. I know exactly the kind of man you are.”
He stared at her. “You don’t know me,” he snapped. “If you did—”
“I know all I want to know.”
“Fine.”
Refusing to give him the last word, she muttered, “Fine with me, too.”
It seemed a sad way to end their conversation, if indeed it could be considered a conversation. Scott returned to the loft with an opened can of beans and a fork; she jerked the blankets over her shoulders. Wordlessly she sat and guarded the fire, trying to forget Scott’s kisses.
CHAPTER SEVEN
“WELL?” MARIAH O’HALLORAN glanced up from the secretary’s desk where she filled in one day a week at the Midnight Sons office. Years earlier she’d been one of the first women to respond to the O’Hallorans’ advertisement; she’d accepted the position of secretary and ended up marrying her boss.
Christian gently closed the door and slumped into the chair nearest her desk. Her husband wore a strange look, and Mariah didn’t know what to think. “Scott and Chrissie are back, aren’t they?”
“They’re back.”
“And?” She hated it when Christian made her dig for every little detail. He knew that she and half the residents of Hard Luck were dying to hear what had happened between Scott and Chrissie. Everyone had hoped the two of them would mend their differences while stranded on Lake Abbey.
In her eyes the situation was ideal. The two of them alone together while the storm raged outside. Christian claimed she was an incurable romantic, but if that was true, then so was almost everyone in Hard Luck. “I want to know about Scott and Chrissie.”
“You and the rest of the town. There must’ve been a hundred people at the airfield this morning when they landed.”
Mariah leaned forward. “Did it look like everything’s okay with them?” she asked.
“Hardly,” Christian said with a shake of his head.
“The minute the engine stopped, Chrissie had the door open and was scrambling out. Seemed to me she was in an awful rush.”
“Oh.” This wasn’t encouraging news. “What about Scott? Did he go after Chrissie?”
“No.” Christian frowned. “He took off in the opposite direction. Now that I think about it, he seemed to be in a rush himself.”
“Oh, dear.”
“It’s too bad, isn’t it?”
Her husband’s comment surprised her, since he rarely showed any interest in other people’s romantic problems.
“I think the world of Scott,” Christian went on to say.
“I know you do,” Mariah said.
“He’s a good guy—turned out well. I know he had a few problems as a teenager, but lots of boys do. I certainly don’t hold it against him. Hey—remember when he read Susan’s diary and wrote comments in the margins?”
“I sure do,” Mariah said, grinning. She agreed that Scott had turned out well. In more than one sense. He was a fine-looking man. Mariah had watched him, Susan and Chrissie mature into young adults. From the time Scott and Chrissie were in high school, she’d known they shared a special bond. Like almost everyone in Hard Luck, she’d assumed that one day they’d marry. Only, she’d apparently assumed wrong, and that saddened her.
“Years ago,” Christian said, stretching out his legs, “before we got married, Scott and I had a talk…about women.”
Mariah managed to hold back a smile. She didn’t even want to think what a nine-year-old boy had to say on that subject.
“Scott offered me some advice,” Christian said, grinning broadly, “having to do with romance and the two of us.”
“Don’t you dare tell me after all these years that you married me on the advice of a fifth-grade boy!”
Christian’s eyes avoided hers. “I guess it wasn’t exactly advice.”
“You’d better tell me the worst.”
“Well, Scott bragged about the help he’d given others—like Sawyer and Matt Caldwell and even Mitch Harris—when it came to love and marriage.” Christian shook his head, a half-amused grimace on his face. “He suggested he could help us, too”
“Did he now?”
“He did, but I would’ve come to the right conclusion—eventually.” He paused. “You’d decided to leave Hard Luck, and I was pretty down in the mouth about it.”
In Mariah’s opinion, Christian’s memory was a bit flawed. “You fired me, if I remember correctly.”
“Yeah, but that’s because I was crazy about you. I thought if you were gone, then— But I don’t want to get sidetracked here. All I can remember is how bad I felt when I realized you were actually going to leave. Nothing was working out the way I thought it would.” His eyes held hers for an extra-long moment. “The fact is, I’m as crazy about you now as I was then.”
Mariah resisted the urge to walk around her desk and kiss her husband—but only because she wanted to hear the rest of his story.
“You remember what it was like back then, don’t you?”
“I’m not likely to forget.” She wouldn’t, either. Christian claimed he’d been down in the mouth, but it didn’t compare to how she’d felt. The weeks after she’d left her position at Midnight Sons had been some of the bleakest of her life. To this day, Mariah didn’t know what she would have done without her friends. Matt and Karen had provided housing and encouragement. Abbey, Lanni O’Halloran, Bethany—they’d all rallied around, offering comfort and advice when all she’d wanted, all she’d ever wanted, was for Christian to love her.
“It seems odd to remember a conversation I had with a kid almost twenty years ago,” Christian admitted, smiling wryly, “but in some ways, it’s as if it took place yesterday. That’s how clearly I remember Scott giving me his advice to the lovelorn—and talking about Chrissie.”
“What did he say about her?”
“He told me that one day he was going to marry her, freckles and all.”
Mariah smiled. “That boy had sense even then.”
“Unfortunately he appears to have lost it,” Christian murmured. He glanced at his watch, and looked surprised when he noted the time. Leaping to his feet, he said, “Gotta go. Are you picking up the boys from soccer practice this afternoon or am I?”
“I’ll do it,” she said, and smiled at his look of relief. Both their sons were enthusiastic about indoor soccer.
“I’ll be glad when they can drive themselves,” he said on his way out the door.
“Me, too,” she agreed. Their two boys, born thirteen months apart, were in their mid-teens. The fun years, as Bethany Harris and Tracy Porter were quick to tell her. They were wonderful kids, and Mariah didn’t expect any trouble with them. Both were crazy about sports. The oldest, Tyler, loved to fly and often accompanied Christian on his scheduled flights. He was a sociable, gregarious boy. The younger, Travis, while as athletic as his brother, was more of an introvert.
“See you tonight, then,” Christian called.
Mariah went over to the door and watched her husband leave. She hadn’t quite made it back to her desk when the door opened a second time, and to her astonishment Scott O’Halloran walked in. He looked none too pleased.
“Christian here?”
“He just left,” Mariah told him. “If you hurry, you can catch him.”
“That’s okay, thanks.” Scott began to head out the door. “I’ll see him later.”
“We were just talking about you,” Mariah said, and regretted it the instant the words were out of her mouth.
“Me?” Scott hesitated at the door.
“Christian was remembering some advice you once gave him about romance.”
Scott seemed puzzled. “I gave Christian advice?”
“It isn’t any surprise you don’t remember,” she said, making light of it, “especially since you were only a kid at the time.”
“What did I say?”
She thought for a moment, then decided it wouldn’t do any harm for him to know. “You were quite the matchmaker in those days.”
“Not me,” he said, grinning for the first time. “I left that to Susan and Chrissie.”
“That’s not the way I remember it,” Mariah said.
“Those really were the good old days,” he muttered. “Now that I think about it, maybe you’re right. When I was twelve or so, I toyed with the idea of writing an advice column. I even talked to Lanni about putting it in her newspaper.”
“Pretty enterprising of you.”
“Especially when you consider what a hopeless mess my own love life is.”
“Scott, that’s not true.” Mariah felt sorry for him.
“I’m sure things aren’t hopeless.”
“It is true,” Scott countered.
He seemed utterly defeated, and Mariah suddenly wanted to throw her arms around him, as though he were one of her sons. “Christian seemed to think you got him thinking in the right direction,” she said bracingly.
Scott’s expression was incredulous.
“Whatever you told Christian worked. We have a long-standing marriage to prove it.” She had his interest now. “If you love Chrissie—”
“Mariah, let me stop you here. It’s over. Chrissie isn’t interested.”
“Don’t you believe it.”
He shook his head. “I’m afraid you’re wrong. She as much as told me so this weekend. And I think it’s probably for the best.”
THE ENTIRE OFFICE fell quiet when Chrissie entered. Everyone stared at her as she walked in. The secretary, Kate, jumped up from her desk immediately, clutching a handful of files, and followed her down the short hallway.
“We were all worried when we heard you’d been held up by the storm,” Kate told her.
“There was nothing to worry about,” Chrissie muttered, wanting to avoid the subject. She reached for the stack of mail on her desk, shuffling through it.
“I have your appointment calendar for the day.”
“You can leave it with me,” Chrissie instructed. In other circumstances, she would have headed directly home, soaked in a hot tub and slept through the da
y. Mondays, however, were often hectic. She had appointments all morning, and it was too late to reschedule them now.
No sooner had she sat down behind her desk than there was a polite knock at her door.
“Come in.”
“Hi.” Tracy stuck her head in. “Glad you got here safe and sound.”
“Thanks.”
“Everything go all right?”
Chrissie wasn’t sure how to answer. “Reasonably well, I guess.”
The worst of the storm hadn’t passed until daylight, and by the time she and Scott returned, the entire town of Hard Luck had heard about their predicament. If that wasn’t bad enough, their families, friends and neighbors had all rushed to the airstrip, eager to welcome them back. Unfortunately, at that stage, Chrissie and Scott were barely on speaking terms.
Everyone, her parents included, had stared at them with great anticipation, obviously expecting their engagement to be announced on the spot.
“Are you sure you’re all right?” Tracy asked.
“I’m fine, really. Just tired.”
“If you need anything, let me know.”
“I will,” Chrissie promised. “Listen…there’s something I want to talk over with you later.”
Tracy frowned.
“I’d explain it now, but there isn’t time. My first appointment is due in ten minutes and I have to read through his file. Can we talk this afternoon?”
Tracy nodded. “Of course. Whatever you need.”
Her partner’s words touched her. “Thanks,” Chrissie whispered as Tracy quietly closed the door.
Chrissie buried her face in her hands. It didn’t help that she was exhausted, not having slept the entire night. How could she, with Scott only a few feet away? She doubted he’d gotten any more sleep than she had.
Scott had left the cabin well before dawn and gone to the plane. At first she’d panicked, fearing he’d fly off without her, but then reason had reasserted itself, and she’d acknowledged that, for all his faults, he wouldn’t abandon her. Apparently he’d made radio contact and received the latest weather information. In thirty minutes or so, he returned and told her they could leave at first light.
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