by Ava Miles
“I’d hardly call it twelve rounds, Dad,” she said, pushing around her coleslaw.
“That’s not how she tells it,” he said, leaning his meaty forearms on the surface. “I’m still trying to figure out what happened with your car. That doesn’t wash.”
What? Was she in tenth grade again? “Dad, I’m way too old for this kind of interrogation. Unless you’re planning on trying to ground me—which I can tell you is impossible with your nearly forty-year-old daughter—I suggest you finish your beer and head back to the bar.”
He stared her down. “You’re only thirty-six, and if I want to worry about you, I will. You asked me to respect your wishes and not ask more questions, but that’s not working for me right now.”
It wasn’t working for her either, truth be told, but she wasn’t ready to tell him everything yet. No, if he knew, her mother would know. And she couldn’t handle being smothered just now. She and her mom were having enough scrapes as it was.
“Everything is fine, Dad,” she told him, something she’d been repeating to herself often enough.
“That Hale boy knows what’s going on,” he ground out. “I have half a mind to go talk to him.”
Great. Maybe Andy would blurt out that he’d finally gotten up the nerve to kiss her. They should call the newspaper, have Arthur run an article. “Leave him be. He has enough on his plate without you poking at him.”
“I’ll poke at him if I want, Lucy Lu,” her dad said. “You can keep your cards close to the vest for only so long, kid.”
That would only be true if she couldn’t drive, but Dr. Davidson had assured her she could. After all, people who only had vision in one eye did it all the time. She’d just have to find a way to be comfortable behind the wheel given her new reality. Maybe driving twenty miles an hour everywhere was the answer.
“I’m an adult, Dad,” she said, shoving her uneaten food away. “I need you to respect that.”
He was frowning as he stood up. “If I hadn’t said those same words to my father when I told him I wanted to bartend instead of going to college, I’d keep at you. But you’re tired, and I’m tired, so I’ll just go back to my sanctuary and hope you’ll trust me when you’re ready.”
Her heart broke, hearing him admit he was tired. “Oh, Daddy.”
He pulled her out of the chair gently and wrapped his arms around her. “I know part of what’s holding your tongue is worry about your mother. I wish I could promise you that I wouldn’t tell her the whole truth. I’ve watched you two knock heads all your life. She means well. She just has the courage of her convictions—rather like someone else I know.”
If she hadn’t been so tired, she might have stuck her tongue out at him. “Then we’re both stuck between a rock and a hard place.”
“I’m glad you have Andy to help you,” he said, letting her go and putting his hands on her shoulders. “But I swear to the Almighty that if you don’t let me help you if you need it, I’m going to…”
“I’m too old for you to paddle my butt,” she quipped.
“I never liked doing that,” he said with a heavy sigh. “All right. I’m going. You get some rest and text me tomorrow to let me know how you are. Your mother might fool herself, but I know this isn’t a hangover.”
She watched as he walked out of the kitchen. The front door opened and closed. Sitting back at the kitchen table, she reached for her Guinness. Part of her wished getting drunk would help her mood, but that would be stupid. She’d felt this same temptation before, after a massacre in Sudan. There had been so much misery and death and darkness around her, she’d wanted nothing more than to keep drinking gin and tonics with her peacekeeper friends until she passed out. But the tension in the country had been too taut for her to take the risk.
Closing her eyes again, she let herself fall into the blackness. As a child, she’d never been afraid of the dark. She’d learned to fear it overseas—sometimes there were scary things in the dark, especially if the power went out because of an explosion. But not here. Not in this kitchen. It was just her, and the darkness felt comforting somehow.
She stayed that way for so long her left leg fell asleep, so she rose to shake it awake. A knock landed on the front door. She was reluctant to leave the blackness, but the person was persistent, which made her guess it was either Andy or her mother.
At the moment, it was a toss-up who she’d rather see.
When she opened the door, he seemed to fill up the space, rather like he was filling up the entire frame of a photo. He had on a suede coat over a dark T-shirt and jeans, and since he rarely dressed casually, she knew he’d selected the outfit intentionally. Was he hoping it would lighten the mood? Regardless of the reason, he looked good, and she felt her body responding to him.
His eyes scanned her face as if gauging her reaction to him post-kiss. Perhaps it was the fusion created by that kiss, but her brain sent a signal to her eyes—she knew about such things now—and she found herself looking at the sexy, soft lips that had covered her own earlier in the day.
His body suddenly seemed too big, too warm, and she realized her chest was tight with tension. But her belly was also soft and liquid—a sure sign she was aware of him as a man.
“You know I had to come,” he said after a long silence. “We both care about each other too much not to talk about what I did earlier. Can I come inside?”
That he would take full responsibility for the kiss didn’t surprise her. “I didn’t think you’d pretend it hadn’t happened or say you’d missed my cheek. Come on in.”
She detoured back to the kitchen because it seemed like the smart place to have a tough conversation, and this one was going to be tough.
When he shrugged out of his jacket, she took in all the hard muscles of his arms and shoulders. Her mouth went bone dry with the desire to reach out and touch him.
“You look like I’m about to give you a root canal,” he commented, hanging his jacket all neat and tidy over the chair. “I’m sorry. I know it’s been a rough twenty-four hours.”
They were counting time now? “No, it’s best we get it out in the open. I…ah…knew you wanted to talk about it earlier…when you brought my car back with Matt. But I just couldn’t then.”
He turned the chair and straddled it—like it was a shield between them. “I know. It’s probably for the best. I had a nice, hard run this afternoon, and it helped me see things more clearly.”
Her stomach flipped over. Oh, no, here it is.
“I didn’t plan to kiss you like that,” he said, gripping the rungs of the chair like a man behind bars. “If I’d planned it, I would have done a better job. I mean, as a kiss, it pretty much sucked, and for that, I’m sorry too.”
Cripes, he was even apologizing for his technique. “Andy—”
“No,” he said, holding up his hand. “Let me finish here. If you interrupt, I won’t be able…to…hell…get this out.”
Her hands suddenly felt odd and unsure against her body, so she clutched them together, which didn’t feel any less weird. Everything was weird, and she’d never felt more adrift from him or their usual easygoing rapport.
“I’m scared to hear it,” she admitted.
He heaved out a breath. “And I’m scared to say it. Trust me, you don’t know how much. Would you…please sit down? You look like you’re going to run out of the room the moment I say something wrong.”
She felt a little rabbity, she realized, but if he was brave enough to say his piece, she could muster the courage to listen. Sinking into a chair, she faced him.
“Thanks,” he said, rocking his chair in place. “Lucy…even though I’ve tried like hell to ignore it, there have been moments where I’ve…oh crap, I can’t believe I’m about to say this… I find you attractive. You were right to pick up on my moments of weirdness, and I know this is the last thing we both wanted, but I can’t deny the way I feel. My subconscious finally overrode my conscious will—”
“You’re going to go all Fre
ud on me?” she asked, her mouth dropping open.
“I was thinking more Carl Jung,” he said, his ears changing color now.
“Like that makes it so much better,” she said, shocked to realize she was hurt. “I thought…”
He scooted his chair closer, and she felt caged in. “You thought what?”
“That you decided to kiss me because you wanted to—even if it was a snatch and grab—and you left right after.”
His head lowered. “I don’t know what to say. I’m so happy you’re back, but I’m scared to ruin our friendship. I’m afraid I already have, and just when you need a friend. I’m not proud of myself and my timing, okay? I feel like I threw a grenade into an already burning building today.”
“Only an idiot does that,” she said in a no-nonsense tone. “Not a trained soldier for sure.”
“So my analogy sucks,” he said, rocking the chair again as he looked at her. “What do you want me to do? I did want to kiss you, and I’m sorry for the timing and even sorrier that I didn’t ask you. Lucy…please tell me we’re still friends.”
The hoarseness of his voice put tears in her eyes. She laid her hands over his on top of the chair. “We’re always friends—even if you did kiss me because of some subconscious mumbo jumbo. Now would you please turn your chair around and sit in it like a normal person? I feel like I’m hearing the confession of someone on death row.”
He let go of her hands, stood, and turned the chair around. “I feel like someone facing death row. I thought this might end our friendship.”
“I wouldn’t let it,” she said, shaking her head, feeling her throat tighten. “Andy Hale, you are the best friend I’ve ever had, and I’m not going to let something like a quick kiss ruin that.”
He pursed his lips, considering. “What if it hadn’t been a fast kiss?” He paused. “Lucy, that subconscious impulse forced me to realize the truth.”
The hair on the back of her neck stood up. “What’s that?”
He shoved out of his chair and paced. “I came over here, hoping we could talk ourselves past this, but it grabbed me again when I saw you standing there in the doorway. You’re beautiful and so…freaking dear to me.”
Her heart was slowly coming out from its hiding place.
“Lucy, I still want to kiss you.”
Whoa. There it was. When he said it like that, the secret place between her thighs clenched. “If we’re being honest…oh sweet mother.” She was going to do it. She was going to tell him.
“What?” he pressed, his frantic energy tangible.
“I might want to kiss you too,” she whispered. “I’ve never…shit…I don’t want you to think I’ve been pining for you all these years. Yes, there were some moments in high school, but I never once felt anything romantic for you when you were married to Kim. I need you to know that, Andy.”
“I never thought you did.” He swallowed thickly, sitting back down and taking her hands in his. “I didn’t either.”
A heavy silence hung in the room. With every word they uttered, they were changing the fabric of their friendship, and she was scared what the tapestry would look like when she took a step back to see the full display.
“I also don’t want you to think I only kissed you because you were vulnerable,” he told her, tracing her skin with his thumbs.
“I never thought that,” she said with a reluctant laugh. “If you kissed everyone who looked vulnerable, you’d be known around town as that kissing doctor.”
“Leave it to you to make a joke,” he said, snorting softly.
“It’s what we do. Andy, we need to be logical here.”
“I knew you were going to say that,” he said, shaking his head. “I’ve through all the pros and cons a hundred times, but I keep circling back to one undeniable truth.”
“What’s that?”
He heaved out another anguished breath. “That I haven’t wanted to kiss anyone since Kim. Lucy, I can’t deny that.”
“You haven’t?” she asked in a soft voice. Somehow that had never dawned on her.
“No, I haven’t,” he said, looking oddly embarrassed. “And if losing Kim taught me one thing, it’s that life is precious. That every moment is precious, and you have to make the most of them.”
She felt the same way.
“You’re here now,” he continued. “I don’t know for how long, and yeah, I’m afraid of you leaving, but I don’t want to miss one single minute of the time you’re here. I want to eat ice cream with you and go hiking in the mountains like we used to. And yes, I want to kiss you—even though I’m scared of that most of all.”
She made herself ask, “Why?” and the question lingered in the air between them.
“I’m scared because I don’t know what will happen between us if we do,” he admitted, rocking in his chair again. “But mostly I’m scared…ah shit…there’s no way easy way to say this…I didn’t expect to want to kiss anyone else after I met Kim, and when she died…”
There was agony in his voice now.
“I still didn’t because there wasn’t anyone who tempted me. But I do now, and…”
It took all her willpower to stay still and let him gather himself together.
“I’m afraid I’m going to like kissing you,” he whispered harshly, “and that it’s going to break my heart all over again because it will mean Kim is gone for good.”
Lucy gripped his hand, wishing she knew what to say to that.
“I don’t say that to hurt you.”
“I know,” she whispered, leaning forward on the edge of her chair until the sides of their heads touched.
They sat like that, cheek to cheek, knees touching, in the silence. Her heart twisted for him and the choice before him. If he kissed her for real this time, he would be choosing to move on.
When he finally pressed back and looked into her eyes, she had her answer. He tucked her hair behind her ear.
“Lucy, I want to kiss you,” he said, his body clenched with tension. “Will you let me?”
Chapter 18
Andy stared into her beloved face, feeling the soft texture of Lucy’s auburn hair between his fingers. His heartbeat was pounding in his chest. Please don’t say no. Not when I’ve put everything out there.
Her thumb slid over his hand in an unmistakable caress. “Let’s try this again,” she said, and this time, she leaned forward and tentatively touched her lips to his.
It was still a shock feeling her mouth on his, but somehow it helped that she was as tense as he was. He ran his hand down her arm, hoping it would help them both relax. Her lips brushed his once, twice, filled with heat, and when that sweet connection ended, he pressed forward again, fitting their mouths together more completely. Her breath rushed out, and the urgent warmth of it inflamed his senses. She was sweet and lush and tentative, but she was here.
This was a kiss he wanted them both to remember.
He tilted his head to the side, experimenting with the angle, flirting with the fit of their mouths. Her bottom lip was too lush to ignore so he kissed it. Then her upper lip had to receive its fair share as well. And soon they were kissing as if they’d been kissing forever.
The gasp she made was unfamiliar but welcome when he ran his tongue along the seam of her lips. And when she ran her tongue sensuously over his, he was surprised to hear himself groan. He needed to be closer to her. He tugged her off her chair and onto his lap.
Sliding his hands into her hair, he continued to kiss her in slow, sensual passes. She traced his collarbone and then cupped the back of his neck. That one simple touch made him feel edgy, out of control. He kissed her one last time, drawing things out, then forced himself to inch back, mostly because he didn’t want to stop.
She was breathing as hard as he was. The light shining in her eyes touched the soft spot he’d carried in his heart for her all these years. But the flush on her cheeks and the redness of her lips tantalized him.
“You’re so beautiful,” he said, slidi
ng his finger along her cheek. “I’ve never told you before.”
Her brow furrowed, and then she cuddled closer.
“What’s the matter?” he asked, wrapping his arms around her.
“The earth just shook,” she said matter-of-factly. “Didn’t you feel it?”
“It was a great kiss,” he said, happy to feel a smile cross his face after so much turmoil. “But the earth shaking? You flatter me.”
She sat up straighter on his lap. “That’s not what I meant. It shook because it was a big decision—for both of us. Andy, I already love you, and this just strengthens everything. It scares me. I don’t want…”
His heart clutched, as much from her profession of love—he knew how she felt, but after kissing her, it struck a different chord in him—as from the regret lacing her voice. “What?”
“I don’t want to need you,” she whispered, “and feeling like this when I already care about you so much and respect you and enjoy spending time with you…”
Being with Kim had taught Andy that needing someone didn’t have to be a bad thing. “You’re looking at it differently than I do. It’s not needing. It’s only enjoying someone more than you enjoy other people.”
She took a moment. “I like that. Andy, so much in my life has changed recently, and here we are in my new kitchen in Dare Valley. We’ve known each other our whole lives, but I’m sitting on your lap, and we just kissed for the first time. I feel like everything I thought I knew is falling away.”
“Our bond might be changing,” he said, his voice deep, “but it isn’t falling away.”
“I know it was only our first kiss—I’m not counting the earlier one, by the way—but it was a big moment for both of us.”
He was glad she understood. “The biggest. I need you to read something.” He carefully pulled a letter out of his pocket and handed it to her, his gut gripping with tension. “Natalie is the only other person who’s read this. I showed it to her to encourage her to be with Blake. But after what just happened between us, I…want you…to read it.”
