Someone to Love--A Darling, VT Novel

by Donna Alward

  “You’re welcome.”

  She faced him, her throat tight with nerves. “You came back.”

  “You didn’t think I would?”

  “I didn’t know.” Heat crept into her cheeks. “I didn’t want to take anything for granted. I wondered if you’d freak out, once what happened sank in.”

  His eyes searched hers. “Did you freak out, Willow? Should I not have come?”

  The lump got bigger, and she shook her head. “I’m glad you did. I … oh, damn.” She took three big steps and wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders, lifted her face to his and kissed him.

  He kissed her back, openly, fully. His arms wrapped around her and pulled her closer to his body. “Oh, thank God,” he muttered harshly, as they took much-needed breaths. “I was afraid you’d want to back off. And all I could think about all day was coming back here. Seeing you again.”

  Things were happening so fast. Willow’s body was clamoring for one thing while her head—and her heart—cautioned her against moving too quickly. She gasped as he dragged his teeth along the tendon of her neck, but then pushed out of his arms just a bit. She needed space to think.

  “We need to slow down,” she said, her breath coming quickly. “You just got in the door, for heaven’s sake.”

  His chest rose and fell with labored breaths. “It’s a bit scary, isn’t it? How … explosive this is?”

  She nodded. “I feel like a damned horny teenager.” And that was exactly who she couldn’t afford to be. She stepped away and tried to clear her head. “Can I get you something to drink? Lemonade? Tea?”

  “Lemonade would be great. It’s a bit hot for tea.”

  She went to the kitchen and took out the bottle of lemon juice, then the organic sugar and a small pitcher to mix it in. He came into the kitchen; she could sense him behind her even though he wasn’t crowding her space.

  “You don’t have to make it from scratch,” he said. “I would have been fine with water.”

  She turned to face him and smiled, thankful to have something to do because her hands were itching to touch him again. “I make it all the time. Seriously, it only takes a minute. Besides, it’s not like I’m squeezing the lemons or anything.”

  And if her hand shook as she stirred, she pretended not to notice. He didn’t need to know how nervous she was.

  The drink was slightly sweet, with a bit of tart that stung the tastebuds at the back of her tongue. The only place to really sit was on the futon or in the hanging chair. The chair wasn’t built for two adults, so that left either the futon or the floor. Willow chose the floor, sitting on her bottom with her elbows resting lightly on her knees.

  “You don’t want to sit up here?” Ethan leaned back on the futon.

  She smiled up at him. “Is it weird to say I’m more comfortable here? Besides, now I get to look at you.”

  “Good point.” He took a drink of lemonade. “I interrupted your yoga, didn’t I?”

  “Not really.”

  “You’ve got the gear on. You look cute, by the way. I like the leggings. They make your ass look good.”

  Heat rushed to her face.

  “Your hair, too. I like the braid. It’s weird.”

  Willow wasn’t used to all the compliments. “It’s a Dutch braid. You do it from under rather than over.”

  “I don’t understand any of that, but okay.”

  She laughed. Drank. Licked her lips.

  He crossed his legs, balancing his right ankle on his left knee. “So how was your day?” he asked.

  It should have been a bit awkward. There was subtext, after all. How was your day was also how was your day after last night and did anyone say anything to you or even did you tell anyone what happened. But now that the initial welcome was over, it wasn’t awkward at all. That was the thing with Ethan. It felt so comfortable, even when they didn’t see eye to eye. She realized that since they’d “met” at Hannah’s birthday dinner, they had always been honest. Tactful, maybe, but honest just the same. Good and bad.

  And honesty was only a step away from trust. It frightened her but also excited her that she might actually be ready to trust someone.

  “I took your advice,” she admitted, finishing her glass of lemonade. Ethan leaned over with the pitcher and topped her glass. “I asked Emily about managing the café and she said yes. We talked about staffing and I did up a want ad that I’m going to post in the paper and through the town website. I’m going to need more staff, especially now that school’s going in soon and I’m losing one of my full-timers.”

  “Good for you.”

  “I like having me time, I discovered. And you know, someday I might want to take a vacation. If I do, I need to leave the café in someone’s hands.”

  “I know what you mean. As much as I’ve hated being off work, in some ways it’s been nice. I’ve been able to spend more time with the boys over the summer. Connor’s starting school after Labor Day and Ronan’ll be back in pre-school. It changes.”

  “You go back soon?” A little bit of worry slid through her veins. Sure, he’d only broken his arm this time, but he did have a potentially dangerous job.

  “Once the boys are back in, I’m back on the roster. Right now I’m working on strengthening my arm and getting some muscle and flexibility back.”

  Willow lifted an eyebrow. “Yoga can help with that. Just sayin’.”

  He grinned. “So show me,” he said easily. “Show me some yoga.”

  She laughed. “That’s not exactly how it works, you know. It’s not just a ‘do this’ and then ‘bend like this’ thing. It’s a philosophy. A way of life. There are physical and spiritual parts that complement each other.” She met his gaze. “Honestly, one of the things I miss most about where I used to live is that there’s no real studio in Darling. The rec center has someone teach a couple of classes each week, but it’s not the same.”

  “Spiritual, huh?”

  She smiled softly. “I know. You think it’s hippy and weird. All I can say is, yoga taught me to accept myself and to stop beating myself up over not being perfect. I started to look for happiness within me instead of being desperate for someone else’s approval. It saved me, Ethan.”

  “And I’m glad. Not sure it’s my kind of thing, but I’m glad.”

  She laughed. “I could make you a believer.”

  “Oh, I don’t think so.”

  “Is that a challenge?” she said lightly with a smile. Lord, she loved bantering with him. It lit her up like very little had in a long, long time.

  “I’ll let you try, but on one condition.”

  “Which is?”

  “You show me how bendy you really are. What’s the hardest move you’ve got?”

  There were several, some that looked harder than they were, others that looked simple but were deceptively difficult. But she knew what he was getting at. Still, she frowned a bit.

  “You know this isn’t what yoga’s about, right? It’s not about being bendy or better than anyone else. That’s the exact opposite of the heart of it.”

  “So you won’t show me?”

  She pondered. “I’ll show you, if you agree to let me lead you through a mini practice.”

  “Deal. But I might need more lemonade to loosen me up. I’m used to pumping weights and going for a run. I’m not sure I’m the meditative type.”

  She couldn’t help it; she laughed again. It was the mischievous look in his eyes and the slight quirk to his lips like he was trying not to smile but not quite succeeding. “Okay. But I’m only going to show you a couple of poses. Then I’ll take you through a few moves. Break you in gently.”

  He got up from the futon, grabbed the nearly-empty pitcher, and poured them each a smidgen more. “Okay. Bottoms up.”

  He held out the glass in a toast. She clinked her rim against his, smiled, and said, “To Downward Facing Dog.”

  “What?”

  “You’ll see,” she answered, and they both drank.

&nbs
p; CHAPTER 17

  Ethan wasn’t sure what he’d gotten himself into, but if it meant seeing Willow bend over in those skin-tight leggings, he’d pay the price.

  She had a way of looking at him, sort of starry-eyed, that did flattering things to his ego. Plus, she looked adorable in her leggings and top. Like cotton candy that melted on the tongue.

  “Okay,” she said, putting down her glass. “I’ll show you one. It’s called Dragonfly, or Maksikanagasana.”

  “Maksi … what?”

  She laughed. “It’s Sanskrit. Just call it Dragonfly. First I need to warm up. I can’t do it cold.”

  He watched as she went through deep breaths and motions, bending forward at the hips, placing her hands flat on the floor. His mouth went dry. Then she stepped back into something that made her into an inverted V, holding it for several breaths, and he imagined moving behind her and grasping her hips. Which, he knew, would be totally inappropriate. She took this stuff seriously. It wasn’t her fault that he couldn’t watch her without getting turned on.

  A few more moves, one where she balanced her weight on her arms, her knees on her elbows, and he had to keep his mouth from dropping open. She did it all with such precision and grace, but he knew it took incredible focus and strength.

  “Okay.” She unfolded herself and stood tall, then placed her right foot along the side of her leg. “Dragonfly opens the hips, but also takes a lot of core and upper body strength. Ready?”

  He watched, awed, as she bended and twisted like a pretzel, and balanced only on her hands as one foot rested on the side of her arm and the other was off the floor, perpendicular to her torso. Was it sensible that her strength and physicality turned him on? They did nothing to detract from her femininity; they enhanced it. What sort of muscles did she have to have to do something like that?

  “Holy shit.”

  She tilted her head up slightly and smiled at him. “It took me a long time to be able to get to this pose.”

  She took another deep breath, then unfolded herself back onto the mat. “You want to try something? We’ll start small.”

  “I guess.”

  “Come here.” She got to her feet and held out her hand. He put down his glass and stood, feeling a bit apprehensive. He’d never been very flexible.

  “Okay. So the first thing you need to do is breathe.”

  “I am breathing.”

  She chuckled. “No, full breaths. Nice and slow, in and out through your nose. Actually, let’s sit down first. I’ll get you a mat.”

  She unrolled a pink mat and he raised an eyebrow at her. She only smiled. “Okay, so sit in a comfortable position.” He dropped onto the mat and crossed his legs. “Keep your spine long and tall. Close your eyes.”

  “Really?”

  “It’s fine, I promise. I’ll close mine, too. But I’ll know if you’re cheating.”

  He chuckled, but closed his eyes.

  “Inhale through your nose. Go slowly. Fill your abdomen, then your diaphragm, and finally, fill your lungs.” He did as she said, and heard her do the same. “Then exhale through your nose, slowly, with control, letting out all the air from your lungs, your diaphragm, right down to your stomach.”

  “Do that four more times. Clear your mind. Relax your body. Shut out all the noise from your day, and just be in the moment, listening to the sound of your breath. In, out, through your nose.”

  Once, he opened his eyes. Hers were closed as she sat across from him. “Close your eyes,” she said in the same calm tone. “Focus on your breath.”

  How had she known he’d opened his eyes? He let the question settle, then worked on the breathing. Huh. His shoulders did feel more relaxed. He kept breathing, losing count of how many breaths, but kept going, his body melting a bit each time.

  “Good,” she said quietly. “Now open your eyes. How do you feel?”

  “Relaxed,” he admitted.

  “We’re usually so busy going from place to place that we forget to just stop and breathe and be in the moment. I’m going to show you a few basic postures first, but I’m also going to show you a few exercises to help with the range of motion in your wrist. Ready? Stand up for me.”

  Lord, but she was graceful. He stood and listened while she dictated his breaths and he stretched tall into Standing Mountain. She demonstrated something called Half Moon, where she stood flat on her feet, jutted out one hip, and arced to the side. When he arched into the pose, which was harder than it looked, she stepped forward and placed a gentle hand on his hip, shifting his alignment slightly. He felt the shift in the stretch immediately.

  “Good,” she said, leading him through to the same stretch on the other side. “Now bring your hands down to your heart, like this.”

  He felt like a fool, but not as much as he thought he would. Not with her doing the same motion.

  “We’ll do one more before I get you to stretch out your wrists. Spread your legs on the mat, wide but not too wide. Your weight should be balanced across your whole foot.”

  He did as she commanded.

  “Now take a big inhale, and open your arms out to your side. This is called the Five-Pointed Star. Let out your breath and relax into the pose.”

  Her voice kept on, soft and sure. “This is one of my favorite poses. I feel rooted and strong through my feet, but my chest and arms are open. My heart is open, too.” She met his gaze, her eyes soft and a slight smile on her lips. “I knew I was on my way to recovery when I did this in class one day, and I shifted my palms so that they faced neither up nor down, but out. I felt like I wanted to hug the whole world. And I started to heal.”

  His throat tightened. She said it so calmly, so easily, but it was a very personal admission.

  “I want to hug you right now,” he admitted.

  “Then do it.”

  He broke the pose and took two steps, off his own mat and onto hers. He folded her into his arms and she placed her palms on his shoulder blades. But best of all was the way she inhaled and then melted into his embrace. Like two trees twisting together.

  Man, he was starting to get as philosophical as she was.

  Maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing.

  “Thank you,” she said against the soft cotton of his shirt. “For being you. For being you with me.”

  It shouldn’t have made sense but it did. When he was with Willow, he didn’t have to be someone’s son or father or coworker or brother. He could just be Ethan. It was such a relief.

  “I should be thanking you. Being with you the last month has let me start to heal. I was so worried about keeping up appearances for everyone else that I couldn’t just be myself. You gave that back to me, Willow. For the first time in over two years, I feel happiness. Not just happy moments, but happiness.”

  As he said it, an unexpected warmth filled his chest.

  She leaned back and looked into his face. “Me, too, Ethan. I thought I was happy, and I was, but I was still holding myself back from caring about someone. And now here you are. I know we’re going to take it slow, but I want you to know that I appreciate you. I love being with you.”

  “I love kissing you,” he whispered, and he dropped his gaze to her lips. But he didn’t kiss her. The words were doing the wooing right now, and he wasn’t in any rush.

  “I love it when you kiss me,” she acknowledged. “Both strong and gentle. Tender and tough. When you touched me last night, I felt like I was treasured, but I also felt desired.” Her gaze burned into him. “You’re a great lover, Ethan.”

  Christ. Her hands were sliding over his shoulders now, feather-light touches down his triceps, back up to his shoulders and along the hairline on his neck. The blinds were open tonight, and the muted glow of the fading sunset filtered into the room.

  She didn’t belong here, inside, with hard floors and walls and the confines of furniture. It was too manufactured an environment for a warrior woman. That’s what she was, he realized. A warrior. A beautiful, big-hearted warrior that made his heart
swell with pride that she was a part of his life.

  He was falling for her, fast and hard. And he was unable to stop it. It wasn’t just about sex … though he would be honest enough with himself to admit that he wanted her so much right now that he ached.

  “If I could, I’d make love to you on a soft bed of grass, with the wind blanketing your skin and the moon above us. That’s where you belong. Or by a river, where the water’s cool and …

  “Let’s do it,” she replied. Her cheeks were flushed and her breath came quicker than before. “I know where. Let’s do it, Ethan. Let’s go make love by the river. Let’s be free.”

  He had to be out of his mind.

  “I’ll drive. You navigate.”

  * * *

  Once upon a time, Willow’s mother had said, “Sex changes everything.” She’d meant it as a caution, when Willow had come home past curfew on the night she’d gotten pregnant. Not that her mom knew what had happened, but when a teenage girl starts breaking curfew and going out with high school jocks, cautions come with the territory.

  Willow’s fingers trembled as she folded them in her lap, not from anxiety or fear but pure, unadulterated anticipation. Her mom had been right. Sex did change everything. Sleeping with Ethan last night had changed their relationship. And it had made them both insatiable. Not just for the physical intimacy, either. The words they’d said tonight—and the ones they hadn’t—were important.

  Now they were on their way through a backroad, where Fisher’s Creek met the river, the property of one of the farmers she knew. The drive through the small field would be blocked off by a gate, but it was a short walk to the river’s edge and the natural beach. Fred had shown it to her when she’d taken the tour of his farm, looking for produce suppliers. At the time she’d commented that it was a stunning spot, and he’d revealed that it rarely got used, except during lunch hours when his workers would sometimes eat their lunch and then wade in the cool water before going back to work.

  No one would bother them there.

  She directed Ethan to a small pull-off spot in the shade of some birches, and he killed the engine and lights. “You’re sure about this, Willow?” She could see his troubled eyes as he looked over at her. “I don’t mean to be a killjoy, but Aiden and Laurel got caught in a compromising position on the golf course earlier this summer. I don’t want your friend coming after trespassers, you know?”