by Noelle Adams
If the universe had been trying to devise the worst torture imaginable, it couldn’t have done better than this.
“I’m going to go check the bathroom,” Laura said at last. Her voice broke on two of the words.
He turned his head and stared at her uncomprehendingly.
“The damage,” she explained. “That’s why I came here in the first place. I might as well do it.”
He nodded. There was no way he could say anything.
He knew she didn’t care about checking the damage. In fact, she’d probably already assessed the damage before she called him about getting stuck.
She was just trying to give him some space.
It was a kind gesture, so he let her get up and walk away.
He sat breathing for a long time until he’d gotten himself under control.
He wasn’t a fool, although he might occasionally act like it. He’d obviously been hoping for something ridiculous, and he should have known better. But he was capable of dealing with it.
He was forty-five years old. He should have outgrown this sort of stupidity. But even if he hadn’t, he could act like a reasonable adult and not destroy one of the most important relationships in his life.
He stood up. Stretched. Mentally assured himself that he had himself under control.
Control was the thing he was best at, and he wasn’t going to lose it now.
Then he went to the bathroom to find Laura.
The door was open, and he saw her sitting on a small bench against the wall. She had her clipboard on her lap, but she wasn’t working on it.
She was hunched over, her eyes focused on the floor.
It hurt him. To see her like that. She looked like a wounded animal, drawing in on itself for protection.
He walked over and sat on the bench beside her.
It was small bench, and there wasn’t much room. His thigh and shoulder brushed against hers. His long legs were folded up awkwardly because the bench was so low.
He sat beside her and didn’t say anything.
Her body was tense, and he knew her well. If he pried, she would push him away.
But he couldn’t leave her alone, not wounded like that.
They sat in the bathroom for a long time before Laura finally said, “I feel awful.”
“You don’t need to. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“It feels like I did.”
He glanced at her face—freckled, familiar, so lovely—and he could see her emotional turmoil. She was usually almost as controlled as he was, so it meant something.
“I’m sure you’ve rejected men before,” he said lightly.
She gave him a quick glance, and her face broke into a shaky smile. “Yes.”
“So it’s not the end of the world.”
“It feels like the end of the world. I don’t even know why. I mean, I’ve never liked rejecting guys. I always feel bad about it. But this feels... so much worse.”
It comforted him—that she was being so open, that she felt as bad about hurting him as he did about being hurt. “Well, maybe you like me a little better than you like those other guys.”
“I like you way better than those other guys.” She gave an ironic huff. She wasn’t looking at him now. She was staring at the floor again. “I like you better than... everyone.”
That made him feel better too.
“But it feels worse than that,” she went on. “It’s not just because I hurt you. It feels like I hurt myself.”
Despite everything he’d just been through, despite everything he kept lecturing himself about, her broken words triggered another surge of hope.
He swallowed hard. Waited a minute to make sure he wanted to say this.
He did.
He couldn’t hold it back.
He made sure his voice was gentle when he spoke. “Maybe... maybe you did.”
Laura’s head jerked toward him.
“I don’t know for sure. I don’t know anything. But maybe you feel so bad because you did... hurt yourself.”
“H-how?”
“Because you don’t really want to reject me. You think you do—and everything in your experience tells you that you do—but deep down, maybe you don’t.”
The words were a huge risk—from a man who almost never took them. But he didn’t regret them.
And Laura didn’t react the way he might have respected. She didn’t get angry and defensive. She didn’t push him away.
Her eyes were swimming in tears. “Russ.”
“I’m not pressuring you, Laura. I will never do that. If you tell me to stop again, I’ll stop. But I didn’t make this up out of nothing. If it was one-sided, I never would have said or done anything. I don’t think it’s one-sided.”
She was breathing raggedly. The sound of it was clear in the silent cottage. She ran her fingertip under one eye, obviously trying to catch a tear before it fell.
He wanted to take her in his arms. He wanted to comfort her, take care of her. But he wasn’t allowed to do that, and now that he suddenly had hope again, he was afraid of pushing her too hard.
He was careful, controlled, good at strategy. He could manage this if he was smart enough.
He thought for a minute before he continued, “Maybe you can just think about it. I’m not expecting anything... anything life changing. Just think about it. If you’re worried about our business arrangement, we can work things out. If you’re scared of a relationship, I can understand that. If you want to go slow, I can go as slow as you want.”
Her expression was changing. Her eyes widened. Her mouth was relaxing.
He wasn’t sure what it meant, but it prompted an even stronger surge of hope in his chest. “Laura, I’m not a teenager who has to rush into things headlong. I’m an old geezer, remember? If you need me to be patient while you figure things out, then I can be the most patient man who’s ever li—”
His words were broken off abruptly because she leaned forward and kissed him.
He never would have kissed her uninvited, but there was no way he could stop himself from kissing her back. One of his hands flew up to the back of her head, holding her in place as his lips moved against hers.
Filled with a breathtaking wave of pleasure and ownership, he let his tongue slip out to slide against her lips. When she opened for him, he accepted the invitation, and he moved a hand around her back to turn her body more toward his as their tongues tangled together.
She was just as eager as he was. Both her hands were tangled in his hair, and she was making the most delicious little sounds—muffled gasps and whimpers.
She wanted this.
She wanted it just as much as he did.
Their position was awkward, but Russ didn’t care. His body was tightening. His groin was hardening. And Laura’s soft, slim body—her silky hair, her warm skin, her responsive lips—were a lifeline to a drowning man.
Without thinking, his hand slid down so he could cup the curve of her hip. The one that was halfway off the bench.
“I thought you said you could be patient,” Laura mumbled against his mouth.
“I can. But you kissed me. Do you think there’s any world in existence where I wouldn’t kiss you back?”
She gave a huff that might have been amusement or might have been pleasure. She was pressing little kisses around his mouth, and it was the sweetest thing. “I didn’t mean to kiss you.”
“Do you want to stop?”
“No.” Her hands had moved down and were now fisted in the bathrobe he wore.
“What was it that pushed you over the edge? My calling myself an old geezer?”
She giggled outright at that, burying her face briefly against his shoulder. “I guess maybe I do have a thing for old geezers.”
He wrapped both arms around her and pulled her into a hug, his riotous emotions distracting him from the state of his body.
They hugged for a long time, and Russ didn’t understand why it meant as much to him as the kis
s did.
He didn’t want to let her go, but he had to loosen his arms when Laura finally pulled away. If he’d hoped she would kiss him again, he was to be disappointed.
She was flushed and rumpled and sexy as hell. She gave him a crooked smile and stared down at the floor again.
Afraid she was going to change her mind as soon as she had space to think about it, Russ did a quick, mental search for the best strategy and said, “I meant what I said, Laura. I can be as patient as you need me to be. We can go slow. Just don’t close the door on us completely. Not yet.”
She took a deep breath and released it. “Okay. I won’t.”
“You won’t?”
“I won’t.”
Russ almost groaned in relief. He rubbed his hot face with both hands.
“But I do think I need to go slow. I’m... I’m really not sure about this.”
“I know. I understand. We can go slow.”
“Okay.”
“Okay?”
“We can go slow.” Her voice broke slightly, and she reached over to pick up his hand and squeeze it. “We can try this.”
He was smiling like a fool. He knew it, but he couldn’t help it.
She gave him a wobbly smile back and reached over to pick up her clipboard, which had fallen to the floor when they’d started to kiss. “Okay. I’m going to check in on Tommy.”
“Okay.”
He watched her walk out of the bathroom, and it was a minute before he was able to stand up himself. He was halfway erect still, and his limbs felt shaky. He walked to the doorway of the bathroom and stopped when he heard Laura’s voice from the main room of the cottage.
“Hey, buddy.”
Mae must have handed Tommy the phone because that voice was one she only used with her son.
“Did you finish your movie?”
Russ stayed where he was and listened to her side of the phone conversation, his heart doing a galloping thing that he simply wasn’t used to.
“Oh. That’s good. I’m glad you still have electricity. We don’t have it here. I’m stuck in Candy Cane Cottage with no lights and no TV. ... I know. It’s not any fun. ... No. We’re not really doing anything. ... Me and Uncle Russ... Yeah... Okay. I’ll tell him when I hang up. ... That’s a good idea. ... Be good for Mae. ... Don’t fuss or complain. She’s being really nice to let you stay with her. ... Okay... I’ll see you as soon as I can get into town to get you. ... Bye-bye.”
Russ stepped out of the bathroom when her phone conversation ended. “He’s doing fine?”
She turned toward him, looking faintly surprised. “Yeah. He’s fine. Thank God they still have power so Mae can just let him watch movies.”
“Did I hear he wanted you to tell me something?”
“Oh. Yeah. He said you weren’t to play your game without him.”
Russ smiled. “Ah. He’s afraid I’ll sneak in and get a lot more points. You told him we were stuck here so I couldn’t?”
“Yeah.” She paused, darting him a shy look. “What game?”
“Just one of his video games. I started playing it with him weeks ago. We have a tournament going.”
“Oh. I didn’t know that.”
He studied her face, trying to figure out what she was feeling, why she looked so self-conscious. “We get along pretty well, you know. Tommy and I.”
“I know.”
“Laura? What are you thinking?”
She shook her head abruptly. “Nothing.”
“Laura?” For some reason he was feeling more excited now than he’d been when they were kissing. He didn’t exactly understand what he was seeing on her face, but he was sure it had to be good.
“It’s nothing. We’re going slow. Don’t push.”
“Okay. I won’t push.” He stepped over and stood in front of her. He wanted to reach out to kiss her again, but he didn’t.
She was gazing up at him with a deep, awed expression in her brown eyes, and he wasn’t sure how any man with a heart and a body could resist it. But he steeled himself and managed.
“Should we look around for something for dinner?” he asked hoarsely.
She let out a gust of air, dropping her eyes. “Yes. Let’s do that.”
Five
LAURA FELT LIKE THE top of her head might fly off with a shrilling sound like a teakettle.
This couldn’t be happening.
It really couldn’t.
She couldn’t have just told Russ that she would give a relationship a try.
She’d been so sure she would never do that again. With Russ. With any man.
It had been like someone else had taken possession of her body.
Except that wasn’t really true. It had been her. The real her. The part that had been hidden away deep. Huddled tight where it was safe.
For some reason she didn’t understand, she’d let that vulnerable part of herself out.
It was scary. Terrifying.
She was afraid she’d made a mistake.
But she was also really excited.
She hadn’t been so excited... in ages.
What the hell was happening to her?
She walked into the kitchen with Russ and started searching the pantry and refrigerator. She quickly pulled out the premade salads and sandwiches that had been stocked for the weekend guests.
“You want to drink some of this wine?” Russ asked, peering at the selection on a small shelf.
“I guess we might as well since we’re obviously going to be here a while. We can replace it if the snow ever stops.”
“Red? Or there’s white in the refrigerator.”
“Red, I guess, unless you’d rather have white.”
Russ found a corkscrew and opened a bottle of cabernet. A little smile played around his agile lips as he slanted her a quick glance.
“What?” she asked, feeling weird and fluttery and not at all like herself.
“I didn’t say anything.”
“I know. But you were looking something.” When he opened his mouth, she went on, “Don’t try to tell me you weren’t. You looked like you were laughing at me.”
Russ’s face changed. “Are you serious? I wasn’t laughing at you, Laura.” He cleared his throat. “I’m just... happy.”
“Oh.”
Okay. Now she felt even more weird and fluttery. Her cheeks were flushed, and she couldn’t meet Russ’s eyes.
She was never like this.
Get a grip. Get a grip. Get a grip.
Feeling like she needed to say something else, she added, “Don’t get too happy.”
He frowned. “What does that mean?”
“Nothing. Sorry. I’m just... confused. I don’t know how to feel about... about this. So I don’t want you to assume...”
“My God, Laura. I’m not assuming anything. Do you think I don’t know how hard it was for you to even give this a try? I promise I’m not counting my eggs or some other appropriate figure of speech.” His face was oddly soft, unguarded as he stepped over closer to her, holding an empty wineglass. “I know this might not work out. But for a long time I’ve assumed there was no chance at all, and now there is. Can I at least be happy about that?”
She gulped. “Yes. Sorry.”
He was smiling again as he leaned down and brushed his lips gently against hers. “Thank you.”
She cleared her throat. “Okay. You better pour that wine because if I don’t start feeling normal soon and if you don’t start being at least a little sarcastic then I’m going to just collapse on the floor.”
He chuckled and turned back to the bottle of wine. “Sarcasm isn’t a very good match for the way I’m feeling right now, but I’ll do my best.”
They split a sandwich and a salad and took their food and wine to the couch to eat in front of the fire.
The food was good, and the wine was excellent, and Laura felt better—pleased and relaxed and still fluttery—when she finished. She toed off her shoes and folded her legs up onto the couch, her e
yes resting on Russ, who’d slouched down so he could lean his head back against a cushion.
He was way too attractive for the way she was feeling right now. His body was long and lean and hard. His hands were slim and strong as they rested idly on either side of him. She could see the beginnings of a five-o’clock shadow on his jaw. He’d pushed up the sleeves of his robe the way he always did his shirtsleeves, and she liked the way the bunched sleeves look against his forearm. Even his lashes were ridiculously appealing—dark and thick.
There was a sprinkling of gray in his brown hair and deep creases beside his eyes and mouth, but she liked that too.
He wasn’t doing anything. Just relaxing back against the couch.
But her body was reacting.
So was her heart.
She wasn’t supposed to feel this way about Russ. Maybe it had been growing for a while, but she’d kept those feelings under firm control. Now they’d all exploded. They were swirling around her, blinding her, drowning her.
Drowning her.
Russ had closed his eyes, so his dry voice surprised her. “Are you getting scared over there?”
She straightened up. “No!”
He slanted her a significant look.
He knew her too well. He must have been able to sense vibes, even without laying his eyes on her.
“This is new,” she explained. “Different.”
“I know it is.” He stretched an arm out to her in obvious invitation. “Come here for a minute.”
She didn’t respond immediately, but everything inside her wanted to go over to him. So she finally relented, scooting over and leaning against him as he wrapped one arm around her.
“There,” he murmured, adjusting to make himself more comfortable. “That’s better.”
It was better.
She felt safer. More relaxed. Less scared.
She shifted slightly, stretching out her legs. Her cheek was pressed against Russ’s chest, and she liked it there.
“I don’t know why this is so hard for me,” she said after a few minutes. She was actually getting sleepy now, and her normal defenses had lowered significantly. “It seems like normal people don’t have such a hard time starting to... to date someone.”
“I know why.”
“Why?” She liked the vibrations in his chest when he spoke. She liked the way his fingertips were brushing against her arm.
