Skater's Waltz

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Skater's Waltz Page 7

by Peggy Jaeger

Cole stared down at her face.

  Her finger roamed down to the corners of his mouth, outlining them, then on to the small dent in the middle of his chin. An impish grin fanned across her face. “I remember being little and wondering if I smoothed this line away would I be able to see inside you, like it was a door or some kind of opening to your insides. Dumb, huh?”

  “Sweet,” he said, softly. “Little girl sweet. Never dumb.”

  Her eyes traveled up to his and locked there.

  “When I got older I wondered what it would be like to kiss it.”

  His breath hitched.

  “Would it taste like soap, left over from shaving, or would it be all spiky and nubby because you missed a few hairs. Or would it taste uniquely like you do. I still wonder about that.”

  “Tiffany.”

  Knowing what he was about to do, and to whom, should have sent him jumping off the couch, running in the other direction. Instead, when his head came down to hers all Cole could think about was how much he wanted to taste her again, how he wanted to lose himself in her, and how both those feelings somehow seemed right, even though he knew they shouldn’t.

  Her body tensed as he inched closer. When his lips finally captured hers, she turned fluid under his hands.

  Her smooth, small body slackened beneath him as his lips gently moved across hers, tasting them, savoring them. Releasing his grip on her arms, he leaned on his elbows and ran his fingers into her hair, cupping her face while holding fistfuls of the glorious mane.

  New, strange emotions jumped about in his body, heightening the sensation of every touch, every caress. She had a mouth made for kissing, for being pleasured and for giving pleasure in return. When he parted her lips with his tongue and edged into the inner treasures of her mouth, taking every inch of it captive, Cole felt as if he was falling to an abyss of pure and total joy.

  A moan escaped from somewhere within her, so raw, so seductively feminine, it made Cole’s heart jump, thrilling him with the knowledge that he was the cause.

  Tiffany’s hands fisted in his hair, moved down to his neck, his shoulders, massaging, kneading the tight muscles.

  His lips traced down over her perfect jaw to the small hollow just behind her ear, and she shivered against his mouth.

  A hot burst of sanity blew through his mind.

  With a suddenness that left him breathless, Cole pulled back and gazed down into green eyes that were cloudy and drowsy and utterly sexual.

  “Tiffany—”

  “If you say you’re sorry, I’ll kill you.”

  Taken aback, he flinched.

  “I mean it,” she said, eyes now wide open and glaring straight at him.

  “Tiff, I, I don’t know what to say.”

  “The truth would be a good place to start,” she told him.

  Cole pulled back to a sitting position and avoided her eyes.

  When he hung his head into his hands, and swiped his hair behind his ears, Tiffany sat up.

  “I don’t know what’s going on here, with the two of us,” Cole said. “I can’t seem to keep my hands off you. All I think about is—God, I’m sorry.”

  “You’re a dead man,” she said flatly.

  When he whipped his head around to see her face, a wry grin stared back at him. “But first I’ll help you out with this little dilemma. You’re obviously attracted to me.”

  “I know!” In a rush, he rose and crossed to the bar. He pulled a bottled beer from the mini-fridge and poured it into a glass, his hands nervously shaking. “That’s the problem.”

  “Why is it a problem?” she asked, her eyes level.

  “Why is it—? Tiffany, think about who we are, what we are to one another.”

  “Okay, I’ve got the image in my mind. What do you think we are?”

  Another swipe at his hair, and he downed half the beer in one gulp. He poured out the remainder into the glass. “We’ve known each other forever. I watched you grow up. We’re practically siblings, for God’s sake.”

  “Oh. I get it now. How silly.”

  Cole swallowed his beer and turned back to her. Her smug smile instantly made him defensive. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Since you think we’re ‘practically siblings,’ and believe me, you’d really have to stretch the practically for it to mean anything, you’re all guilt ridden over these new feelings you have for me.”

  “New feelings? What are you talking about?”

  “Cole, like I said, it’s obvious you’re seeing me in a different light since you came home. I’ve changed, grown up, turned into something somewhat attractive.” He choked on his drink. “And you’re having a difficult time handling it.”

  “I’ll say,” he muttered into his empty glass. He put it down, shoved his hands in his pockets, and stared at her.

  “I’m not a little girl anymore. I don’t need you to drive to me to practice, or help me with my homework. What I need now is entirely different.”

  “Don’t talk that way, Tiff. I can’t stand hearing it from you.”

  “Too bad. It’s high time, Cole Greer, you accepted the inevitable.” When his eyes came back to hers, she took a deep breath. “I made a mistake yesterday, telling you how I feel. Well, I guess it’s not a mistake anymore. I’ve loved you since the first day I saw you. I knew then what I know now. You were the only man I ever wanted in my life. Yes, I was a child and maybe thinking with a child’s heart at the time. But I’m not a child any longer. Haven’t been for a long time, only you’ve refused to see it. But you’re still the only man I’ve ever wanted. And although I’m not too experienced in things like this, I’d say from the way you just kissed me, you want me along the same lines. Maybe just as much as I want you.”

  Because it was true, Cole couldn’t answer her right away.

  Drawing a ragged breath, he eventually said, “Tiffany, you don’t understand any of this, any of what’s going on between us. Christ, you can practically cut the air with a knife every time we’re alone together.”

  “And the problem with that is?”

  “Stop acting like such a queen and listen to me.” He crossed back to her and sat down. He wanted to take one of her hands in his but knew if he touched her again he’d come unglued.

  “I believe you when you say you love me. I love you too. But just not the way you think you want me to.”

  “Know I want you to.”

  “Stop. Tiff, I love you with all my heart. You’re my best friend. One of the things that kept me sane and able to keep working these past two years was thinking of you, reading your letters. When I think of home I always think of you. I don’t want that to change between us, I couldn’t stand it if it did.”

  She cocked her head at him. “Who says it has to?”

  “It just will if we give in to this—thing—going on between us. It’s just hormones on both our parts. You’ve never been with a guy, I haven’t been with a woman since…”

  He stopped when he recognized the murder in her eyes. With a swallow, he cleared his throat. “Hormones, that’s all it is. Look, I’ll agree you’ve changed. Grown up. Beautifully, I’ll add because it’s true. You’re a desirable woman, and God help me for saying it. But one of us has to be the adult here, and I guess since I’m older, it’ll have to be me. It’s my responsibility to keep things in check.”

  Her lips hardened, but she held her tongue.

  “Look at it this way,” he said, sitting back on the couch. “You’ve devoted your entire life to one thing and because of that you missed out on a lot.”

  “What are you talking about now?” Her brows beetled, and she crossed her arms over her chest.

  “Boyfriends, dates, necking in the back of cars. You’ve never done anything like that.”

  “How do you know what I have or haven’t done? You haven’t been around for a long time.”

  It was the tone more than the question that had his own eyes slitting now. “Have you?”

  For the first time he co
uld remember, she couldn’t stare him down. “Well, no. But what does that have to do with what I feel for you or what you do for me?”

  “Everything. I’m the only guy who’s ever known you as a friend, who’s ever paid any attention to you or put up with your moods. You need a boyfriend. One your own age.”

  “A boyfriend,” she repeated, sitting back on the couch, her eyes alert and focused. “You think I need a boyfriend?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “What I need is a reality check, that’s what you’re saying, isn’t it?”

  With an enthusiastic nod he said, “I couldn’t have put it better. Don’t you see, Tiff? You missed out on so much. It’s time you experienced other things, other guys. Then you’ll realize what you feel for me isn’t what you thought it was.”

  “I’m supposed to go out and find a boyfriend so I can forget about my silly devotion to you and see it for what it really is, just a dumb infatuation.”

  “Yes.” He was thrilled she was finally getting it.

  “For someone so smart, so sophisticated and so worldly,” she said, rising and reaching for the crutches, “You are a complete moron.”

  She stood above him, her head held high and straight, and regarded him with cool contempt. “It’s sad your mind can deny what your own body is telling you, but if that’s the way you want it to be, fine.”

  “Tiffany—”

  “No. You listen now.” She lowered her voice. “I’ll play it your way. I’ll forget any of this ever happened between us, forget what we’ve said to one another tonight. I can do that because I already know what the future holds for the two of us. We’ll be together, Cole, I have no doubt of it. It’s already been written in our destinies. When you realize it, I’ll be there, waiting. Until then, nothing has changed between us. Nothing. Now, I’m tired. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  She moved without any difficulty from the room to make her way slowly up the stairs, the sound of the crutches hollow as they banged against each riser.

  When he opened his third and then fourth beer, he realized she was wrong.

  Dead wrong.

  Everything had already changed between them.

  Chapter Nine

  “It always smells so good in this house,” Cole said as he came into the kitchen the next morning.

  From the stove, muffin pan in her hand, Alaina smiled. “It always smells good when I have someone to cook for. Hungry?” She waved the pan at him temptingly.

  “Constantly.”

  She chuckled. “Get some coffee, then. These need a minute to cool.”

  Cole poured himself a huge mug and leaned a hip against the cabinet.

  “Brat sleeping in this morning?”

  “You missed her by about ten minutes.”

  “Missed her? Where’d she go?”

  “She had Jason saddle up her horse, and she went out to see Addie.”

  “Was she using the crutches?”

  Alaina shook her head as she wiped her hands on a towel. “No, she was walking fine without them. No limp at all.”

  “Stubborn,” he said, shaking his head. “She’s too darn stubborn for her own good.”

  “Well, yes, she is,” Alaina said with a loving smile. “But it’s one of her best features, don’t you think? After all, it was stubbornness that got her on skates and kept her there.”

  Cole dropped his gaze to the mug of coffee in his hand. “Did she have anything to eat?”

  Alaina laughed out loud. “Have you ever known that child to eat breakfast? No, she had me make her that disgusting fruit protein drink she imbibes like water and then she took off.”

  Cole thought for a moment. “Would you mind wrapping a bunch of those up for me”—he pointed to the muffins—“along with a thermos of this great stuff? I want to go riding this morning too. Been away from it for far too long.”

  Fifteen minutes later, armed with a small backpack of breakfast and coffee, he saddled one of the older stallions and took off.

  He’d enjoyed the changing colors on the drive up to Connecticut, but the patchwork of shades and tints that surrounded him on the MacQuire property was breathtaking. Vibrant golds, yellows, deep reds, and oranges, all mulled together intertwining with the evergreens. Cole had missed the seasonal changes while in Sudan, especially when Tiffany had e-mailed him, detailing the emerging colors and including a picture of two maple leaves just turning. The bright bold red and orange mixture had reminded him of her hair.

  Last night, he’d sat in the den for a long time after she’d gone up to bed. Sat, drank, and thought about everything she’d said. Confronting him with his own feelings had made him angry with her. But Cole knew she was right. He did love her, more than any other person he’d ever known. But it was the deep familiar love one had for a friend or a sibling. Romantic love never played a part in any of his feelings. Especially the new ones churning about within him.

  Lust, he told himself, disgustedly. It’s pure lust. She has grown into a beautiful woman, a richly desirable one. Skin and hair that made his fingers itch for a touch, a body that could tempt a blind man, a smile that went from childishly happy to seductively wicked in a heartbeat. And don’t forget those eyes. Polished gems didn’t sparkle and shine as much as Tiffany Lennox’s glorious eyes.

  But she was forbidden fruit. He could all but taste the lashing he’d get from Mike if he knew the desire Cole felt for the man’s stepdaughter.

  And Carly. Just forget Carly. Cole knew what an excellent shot she was, having seen her use her father’s old hunting rifle a few times while growing up. He could practically feel the bullet pierce his hide.

  Desire. Passion. Need. Three emotions he’d never thought would cloud Tiffany’s face or his own mind when it came to her.

  He’d done the right thing in speaking to her as he had. She did need to experience other men, and even if it killed him to watch, he would, and he’d encourage her relationships.

  If they’d met in another time where there were no family issues, where there were no restrictions, Cole knew he and Tiffany would have become involved intimately. There was chemistry there. And a lot more. That’s what made him push her away. If allowed to, Cole knew in his heart and soul he would take what she’d offered so easily.

  He clicked his tongue, gave the horse a gentle kick in the flank, and ambled onward into the thicket.

  When he came through the clearing, he spotted Tiffany’s horse idling about in the grass. He scanned the small grove of trees and the fenced-in area around them and found her, kneeling next to one of the headstones. He kept his distance, allowing her the privacy he knew she craved, and just watched.

  While she spoke, her eyes roamed up and down the gravestone. Her gorgeous red hair was down and free, billowing about her waist, blowing with the gentle breeze. The dove gray vest and shirt she wore were a Christmas gift he’d given her a few years back.

  He got down from the horse, gave it a gentle smack to let it roam, and slowly strolled up to the small cemetery, all the while his eyes on Tiffany.

  ****

  “So that’s it, Addie. Everything that’s been going on. Sean’s been taking good care of me, but he’s still the biggest slave driver I’ve ever met. Makes sense he’s your nephew. The two of you have an affinity for bossiness.” She wiped a small tear from the corner of her eye. “My ankle is better today. Maybe I’ll try to skate on it tomorrow. With the show opening soon, I really can’t afford any more time away from the ice.”

  A breeze came up, knocking her back. “Oh, Addie, I miss you so much. I miss you ordering me to set the table. I miss hearing you sing when you cook dinner and how you used to laugh whenever I burnt something. You’d be so proud of the progress I’ve made with cooking. I’m not as hopeless as you used to say I was. Aunt Serena feels I’ll get better when I’m married and I’m forced to feed my husband and kids. But for now, I’m still in the learning curve, according to her.”

  Her fingers traced the raised letters on the heads
tone, gently letting them roam over the carved shamrock cut into it. “I wish you were here to give me some more lessons. Every day, I wish it. I especially miss your advice, even though I know you always said it wasn’t advice, just pointing me in the right direction and letting me figure it out on my own. I really need to be pointed the right way now, Addie. I need to know what to do to make Cole open his eyes and see what’s in front of him. He’s just so stupid and blind. He can’t see he really loves me. You should have heard him last night. When he thinks of home, he thinks of me. I’m his best friend. Yada yada yada. If that isn’t love, what the heck is?” She sighed and smoothed away a fallen leaf from the marble. “He’s as blind as a dingbat with cataracts, to quote you. I don’t know how to make him see me as I am now, and not as a kid. I guess I’ll just have to go along with things as they are until he realizes it. I wish you were here to tell me what to do. I need you so much.”

  ****

  Cole heard the tail end of her words and was simply touched. He knew as a child, Tiffany hadn’t given the woman a moment’s peace, but Addie O’Mally had always had a soft spot for the red-haired terror, as she’d affectionately called her young charge. When the old woman had taken ill five years ago, diagnosed with brain cancer, Cole all but tore Tiffany away from the hospital bed so Addie could rest and receive treatment. When she died holding Tiffany’s hand, Cole thought his heart would break just as Tiffany’s had. She’d always hated hospitals, but the last time Addie was admitted, when Tiffany had to watch the never-ending cancer treatments rob the woman of her life and vitality, her hatred had grown to neurotic terror.

  It had taken her over a year before she could say Addie’s name without tears attached to it. No one in the family minded when the young girl began making daily pilgrimages up to the gravesite, buried in the MacQuire cemetery alongside Mac MacQuire and Martin Lennox, Tiffany’s grandfather and father.

  Cole stepped on a twig, snapping it. Tiffany’s head whipped around and her mouth flattened into a thin line. “How long have you been standing there?”

  “Just a sec. Alaina told me you were up here. She said you weren’t using your crutches.”

 

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