In the Firelight (16 page)

“Hey,” she softly said as she turned to pick up some wood and stack it along the wall in the shed.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” he replied.

Shea’s shoulders stiffened at his endearment. For a split-second, she froze.

But then, as though she hadn’t even been affected in the first place, she continued with the wood. Rhys walked over to her, reaching down to pick up a few pieces, handing them to her as she turned. Shea’s eyes never rose past his chest. She couldn’t seem to look at him straight on, and his chest tightened with an aching confusion. Shea released a deep breath and laid the last of the wood on the pile, then turned to look at the driveway.

“So, I have a bunch of shit to do today,” she said softly, tucking her hands into the back pockets of her jeans. The motion pushed her breasts out and made his mouth water, even with the torment of her unreadable expression. “There’s some coffee in the kitchen, and, if you’re hungry, there’s some rolls on the counter.” She turned her face towards him, but didn’t lift her gaze. “Don’t feel like you have to rush off or anything, but I need to get going, so just make sure the door’s shut behind you when you leave. Make sure Wolfie’s inside.”

Rhys felt the frustration inside him building.
She
was cutting
him
loose. After last night, which was hands down
the
best sex he’d ever had, she was pushing him away.

He wasn’t going to make this that easy on her, though.

“You should have dinner with me,” he suggested.

“What?” Shea’s eyes shot up to his, her brow furrowed and aggravated.

“Dinner… you know. Sitting at a table. Eating. Talking. Together.”

Shea took a deep breath and released it slowly, wetting her lip with a flick of her tongue. “Rhys, I don’t think that’s a very good idea.”

“I wasn’t really asking you,” Rhys said with a cocky grin. “I was telling you.”

That fire instantly lit in her eyes.
My God, she was sexy, even in old jeans and snow boots.

“Uhhh… no. It doesn’t really work that way,” she argued.

“Sweetheart, I’m just not done with you yet.”

He saw her tremble at the seductive rasp of his voice.

“Rhys, we talked about this…”

“No, we didn’t. I wanted to, but we didn’t. You didn’t. You went to sleep.”

“And, what? Your feelings are hurt?” Her eyes grew stormy with anger. “Oh my God, you sound like a girl,” she threw at him tersely.

Rhys’ jaw clenched.
This woman could be
infuriating sometimes! 
He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could get a word out, she started up again.

“You don’t get it. This… last night… this was one time only.”

“Why? Why can’t this happen again? I think you enjoyed yourself, sweetheart, and I’d like nothing more than to sink down inside you over and over again.”

Her breath caught and she shivered before voice lowered and she looked away. “Honestly, I don’t want to miss you when you leave. And I’m afraid I already might.”

Rhys’ shock kept him silent.
He hadn’t expected that.
Nor had he expected the pull to his gut that her words had caused.

“I love my life, Rhys. I love my solitude and my dog and my quiet little cabin back in the mountains. I love not depending on anyone, not needing anyone. I want things to be the same for me after you’re gone.”

With that, she walked to her truck and climbed in.

“Just make sure it’s all closed up when you leave,” she repeated softly over her shoulder before she closed the pickup door.

And then she drove away.

The guilt he had felt earlier began to swell. The knowledge of the email. The look in her eyes just now. She had looked sincere, pained.
Acting, Rhys
, he told himself to try and alleviate the sour feeling in his stomach.
She’s acting. She knows what you can do. She’s playing on your sympathies.

But what if she wasn’t?

Chapter 12 ~ The Dress

Fucking hell
, Shea thought to herself as she caustically flipped through the dresses on the rack.
Who the fuck has time for this, anyway?

The annual library fundraiser was that night. Shea hated going. It was bound to be either couples or sex-starved singles, and she had no desire to mix with either group, really. Ever.

Shea had avoided the last few years. But Michelle had begged and pleaded, claiming she wouldn’t have any fun if Shea didn’t go. Claiming they could sit off to the side and make fun of everyone’s clothes and awkwardness in the alcoves of the library. Michelle had to go. In an effort to escape the sometimes oppressive joys of mommyhood, she volunteered at the small-town library once or twice a week. As a volunteer, her presence was more or less mandatory.

And, of course, Shea had nothing remotely suitable to wear. Her wardrobe consisted almost entirely of jeans, t-shirts, and sweaters, and she hadn’t attended any sort of semi-formal event in Snowcreek since her senior prom.

At one time, just out of high school when she was married, she’d had a few fancier things. But they were all so outdated at this point, all ruffles and taffeta. As well, over the last couple years that she’d been back, her body had changed. Whereas married Shea had been a gym freak without an ounce of fat, desperate to retain her youthful figure to combat her husband’s wandering eye, she had softened of late. Her breasts had gotten fuller, and her ass… well, it had just gotten bigger.
Dammit
. That said, chopping wood was better than any type of exercise equipment. She still had the flat stomach and well-defined arms.

However, as a result of the more abundant curves filling out her figure and her complete distaste of trendy fashion, there was not a dress in her closet that would work. One or two could still be shimmied into and zipped closed, but they were way,
way
too tight. Wasn’t gonna happen.

The jingle of the door in the only clothing store in Snowcreek signaled another desperate patron looking for something to wear as Shea flipped through the racks. A dark sparkle caught her eye, and she held up a deep pomegranate-colored dress that flashed with sequins. And she loved the color and the scooped neckline that spread wide onto the shoulders with long, slender sleeves. Shea checked the tags. It wasn’t
too
expensive, and, yes, it was her size.

Then she turned it around to see the almost inconceivably low back that screamed hoochie-mama. She was never really one to show so much skin, and instantly wanted to put it back. But the light reflecting off the rich color and bits of sparkle transfixed her for a moment, and she actually genuinely considered it for a split-second.
Rhys might be there.
Her stomach tightened with remembrance of his heavy-lidded expression, the play of his muscles in the firelight only a few nights before… Despite the knowledge that she shouldn’t, she wanted that again.
Badly.

What was she thinking?
She began to hang the dress back on the rack when a heady, sexy voice stopped her dead in her tracks.

“Mmmmm… you should try that one,” Rhys said from behind her, almost as if she had conjured his voice from her thoughts.

Whirling around, she saw him standing only a few feet away, leaning onto the rack beside him. Instantly, her breath caught in her throat and her heart began to pound.
My God, the man was delicious.
He stood tall before her with his hand casually stretched out over the hangers on the rack as he tapped his fingers with a slow rhythm. The motion drew her eyes to his hand, the long curve of his fingers, the thickness of his forearm that protruded from the rolled-up flannel sleeve. Those hands had touched her skin so exquisitely. Those fingers has been deep inside her, stroking her, wrenching a deep wash of pleasure from her. Goosebumps rose across her entire body and a quiver ran through her, setting off a stirring ache inside.

She shook her head slightly to clear her mind and looked back to the dress. “It’s, um… not really something I’d normally wear,” she breathed out. “I don’t think it’s really very me.”

“Try it on… let me see.” His voice was like warm honey oozing over her, filling her pores with a delicious sweetness.

Distance. She had to keep her distance.
She’d thought of nothing but him since the other night, and that… that was going to be trouble. In an attempt to remain aloof, she looked at him and scowled. “What are you doing in here, anyway? You know, they don’t sell man clothes here.”

Rhys only laughed at her obvious disgruntlement. “Well, it would appear it wasn’t a lack of sex that made you so grouchy before.”

Shea rushed forward to him, whispering furiously. “Would you please not go around talking about that? I still have to live here after you leave, you know.”

“You’re an adult, sweetheart,” Rhys said in a low voice as he reached up to brush the hair back from her face. “Sex isn’t a no-no at this point.”

Shea sucked in a deep breath at the gentle touch of his hand, and suddenly her senses were filled with the crisp pine scent that seemed to surround him. She shivered and dropped her gaze to study the plaid pattern of the soft flannel covering his broad chest.

“You should try it on, really. I’d like to see…” he said very quietly, for once seeming to respect her wishes for some semblance of privacy.

She lifted her gaze to study the blue eyes staring down at her. And, in that moment, she did want to try it. If for no other reason, than to see the look in his eyes when she was wearing
real
girl clothes. Just for a few moments, she wanted to feel sexy and desirable again.

Through surprisingly labored breathing, she murmured, “Okay,” and turned towards the narrow hallway that housed the dressing rooms. She could feel his eyes on her retreating form, almost as though he were touching her. A deep exhalation practically made her crumple bonelessly as she finally pulled the heavy curtain closed across the dressing room stall. For a moment, she stood still, her fist pressing the silky, sparkly dress to her chest.

Quickly pulling off her clothes, Shea debated the wisdom of slipping out of her bra, torn between the need for the security it provided and the knowledge that, with the low back on the dress, it really would
not
work. She removed it quickly and pulled the dress up over her hips, smoothing it up her body. She glanced in the mirror before her. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes snapped with a bright glint, set off by the deep, rich red wine color of the dress. She slid her arms through the sleeves, pulling the sparkling fabric up to rest just at the curve of her shoulders.

The dress really was something. Amazing. She felt stunning wearing it, even with her untamed, wavy hair and no make-up. The neckline pressed against the soft curve of her breast, only showing the prominence of her collarbones and just a hint of the softness below. The rich, deep burgundy sequins started in full at the top, slowly dissipating below the curve of her breasts to a light scattering of them below her hips. The flirty flare of the skirt ended just above her knees. Turning with a slight twirl, she saw the heavy plunge of the back, baring her almost down to the cleft of her ass.
Christ… she’d only feel comfortable if she wore her coat all night.

Just outside the dressing room, she heard heavy footsteps, and then Rhys’ deep voice softly cut through the quiet of the room.

“So, sweetheart… How does it look?”

Oh Jesus… No…
  There was no way that she could go anywhere in this dress
.
Especially
anywhere that he would be. With the subtle hint of passion in his voice, her whole body was already on fire, her nipples felt tight under their sequined armor, and her bare back was so sensitive she could feel the brush of air from the heater vent above her dressing room stall.

“It, um...” Shea stammered breathlessly, “it doesn’t really fit.”

The curtain was thrown aside and Shea spun around as his large form entered the tight space. His eyes ignited at the sight of her before him, caressing her from the ample curve of her breasts, down her slender waist until they reached her bare feet. Then they flicked alongside her, looking at her reflection in the mirror, at the expanse of naked flesh revealed by the open back. “Fuck…” he muttered with a forced breath as his eyes flew back to hers.

For a moment, a moment that seemed to stop time, neither moved. A shaky breath finally escaped Shea, and, as though the faint sound broke his trance, Rhys took a step towards her, pulling the curtain closed behind him. He filled the small dressing room, forcing her to crane her neck up to him to keep contact with his eyes. His eyelids heavily lowered and his hand slipped up to cradle her jaw firmly.