— ever.”
“I keep waiting for you to have some kind of little break down, tears, angry words, something— but I don’t guess you will, huh?”
She looked at him. How could she tell him that she had to hold her emotions tightly when he was around — that there was no way she could let her guard down even in a situation like this?
“What would be the point of that?”
“What indeed,” he muttered to himself.
Laurel felt exhaustion creeping over her. The idea of a hot shower to wash off the hospital smell and the lake, followed by falling into bed, sounded more appealing by the minute.
“You’ll have to help me find the turn off in the dark.”
“Oh, okay. It’s just a couple miles ahead — on the right.” After a few more minutes, she pointed. “Right here — see the reflector?”
“Yep.” He turned in and began ascending the long slope up to the cabin. When the car popped over the hill and her house came into view, he remarked, “It doesn’t look much different.”
“I didn’t do too much to the outside— new paint, a new roof, a new deck. The inside is where the biggest change is.”
“You must be doing well with your pottery to afford remodeling.”
“Oh, I get by. I’ve been renovating on a shoestring. Dad helps quite a bit. He knows a lot of people and gets me labor and materials for a very reasonable cost.”
“I see.”
“And Dylan and Crosby help too. Dylan did all the wiring.” They were getting close to the cabin, and in a rush she asked, “Hey, do you want a cup of coffee or something?” She had no idea what she was thinking, except, all of a sudden, she didn’t feel like being alone.
“Sure.” His answer was quick, making her suspect he felt the same way.
Laurel shuffled up the porch steps, fishing in her bag for her keys. A couple of steps behind her, James caught up while she fumbled with the lock. He held the screen door open while she forced the key to turn. The door opened so unexpectedly, she nearly stumbled over the threshold. He reached out to steady her at the elbow.
“Okay there?”
“Yes, thanks,” she mumbled. He left his hand on her arm for longer than he needed to, and her skin burned where he touched her. She tossed her things on the couch and headed for the kitchen, turning on lights as she went. She heard his keys drop on the end table by the door, and then he was in the kitchen with her, just standing there as if he didn’t know what to do next.
She got out a couple of coffee mugs and pulled out the teakettle. “I hope instant is okay. I don’t have a coffee maker because — ”
“Because you don’t drink much coffee,” he finished for her.
She smiled at him and crossed the room to the pantry door, standing on tiptoe to reach the jar of coffee at the back of the top shelf. She froze when she realized James was close behind her, his voice bathing her in warmth as he offered, “Here, let me get that.”
He leaned one hand on the door frame above her head, and she thought he would reach to get the coffee with the other, but . . .
His hand touched her shoulder and slid in a sinuous motion down her arm to her hand. He was close behind her now, so close she could feel his breath on her neck and the heat emanating from his body. He whispered her name, and she turned as if in slow motion. They stared at each other for a long moment, and then he leaned in and kissed her. It was slow and sweet at first, like honey, and as he pulled back, she opened her eyes. Her hand came up to caress his face and his eyes closed. Suddenly they popped open again, green like the trees that lined the lake, and then he yanked her toward him, covering her mouth in a fierce kiss that took her completely by surprise. He pressed against her and she could feel the hard planes of his body — well, everywhere.
He murmured her name between kisses, reverently — as if he were praying it.
“Laurel,” he breathed. “Laurel.”
“Sweet.” His lips traveled to her jaw, then to her neck. “Beautiful.” She braced herself in the door frame to keep him from pushing her into the pantry. “Want . . . ” he panted, “want