Love on a Spring Morning (8 page)

“We had a long day.” She tipped her head to the side. “I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for.” He licked his lips. “You didn’t bring your tea. Do you want me to make you something?”

She shook her head. “I can’t stay long.”

“Early morning, right.” Ryan leaned back on the hand closest to her. She couldn’t break away from his gaze. At least a foot separated them, but they’d both twisted their bodies and now they were facing each other.

Don’t do it
, she warned herself.
Don’t you dare kiss him
. She leaned in, because she wasn’t that great at taking direction from her moral compass at the best of times, but at the last minute, she dropped her forehead to his shoulder. Staring at the worn grey boards of the deck beneath them, she took a deep breath, then let it out. “This is a really bad idea, isn’t it?”

He shifted, wafting an irresistible combination of laundry soap and man scent in her direction. “I don’t know,” he said quietly into her hair. “What is
this
?”

“Me bringing tea in a thermos. Running up and down in front of your house when there’s a perfectly good treadmill in the house I’m staying in.” Nervous energy coursed through her as she confessed. She turned her head just a bit, just enough to see his Adam’s apple bob up and down.

“Not just a treadmill. One of the stars demanded an entire exercise room.”

Oh, bugger. “Ryan, I need to tell you—“

“No, don’t.” He cut her off, his words low and private. He reached across his body for her hand and she gave it to him, lacing her fingers through his as he moved a bit, settling back on his free arm, closest to her. They were practically cuddling, and it felt better than anything in the world, the hot press of his side against hers, his cheek against her hair. “I don’t care if this is a bad idea. I like it, and I don’t have a lot of things I like about my life right now.”

But there’s no way he’d snuggle up, side-by-side, with a celebrity. “I know your privacy is important to you, and I’d never do anything to—” she started again, but again, he cut her off.

“I can’t date, Holly. I have nothing to offer you, so before you say anything, you need to know that this is all I’ve got. A few minutes after my kids go to bed. The rest of my time has to be about them. When I say that I’m a private person, I mean I’ve got some messed up fears about exposing my kids to the world—even other people. I don’t want them to have to deal with any upheaval. I need to protect them, and I can’t do that if I’m distracted.”

She ducked her head. He definitely couldn’t do it if he was entangled with someone famous, either. She needed to walk away from him, but she couldn’t.

“My kids are everything to me, so there’s no room in my life for something just for me right now. And I don’t know when there will be. I don’t know when I’d be able to take you out for coffee or to a movie. And you’re a beautiful woman, Holly. You deserve all of that and more. You deserve a heck of a lot more than sitting on my porch, and that’s all I can offer.”

She wanted to tell him it was okay, that she understood—because she did. But it wasn’t okay, so she sat there silently, her heart aching for him.
 

“I don’t have any allusions about what you might see in me, but if you’re thinking of telling me there’s no future, I promise you I already know that. I just…” He dragged in a ragged breath, and she realized this wasn’t just about logistical difficulties of single parent dating. This was emotionally challenging for him.

She wanted to crawl into his lap and make it all better—and she didn’t even know just exactly what was wrong. “This can be whatever you want. I’m…” She trailed off, too, because this conversation was harder than she expected. “I think we have a connection. You said we’re friends. All I know is that spending time with you at the end of the day this past week, that’s been something special. I don’t want to give that up. So if all we can be is friends, I want that.”

“I don’t think I want to be your friend.” He huffed a laugh. “Sorry, that came out wrong.”

“I know what you mean.” She turned into him, wanting to hug him. Actually, she wanted to climb him like a tree, but that probably wasn’t an option. No, it definitely wasn’t an option. Hell. She twisted away. “I should go, before I do something stupid like kiss you.”

Ryan held on to her hand, not letting her go very far, and when she stopped, he tugged her arm until she looked back at him. He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes—they were somber and sad. “If things were different…”

“I know.”

“Will you come back?”

Say no. Tell him you’re Hope Creswell and nothing about your life is simple.
“Maybe.”

But she knew she was lying. There wasn’t a chance in hell she’d be able to stay away from him.

— SEVEN —

H
OLLY didn’t go up to see Ryan the next night. She wanted to, so much, but if they were just friends, nothing more, then maybe every single night was too much.

She needed some space.

So when Emmett asked if she wanted to get out of Pine Harbour on Wednesday evening and go shopping in the slightly larger town of Wiarton, she agreed.

As if the universe thought she needed to be taught a lesson about hiding from her problems, Ryan walked out of the Tim Horton’s coffee shop just as they were about to walk in. Emmett had gotten hooked on the raspberry-jelly filled donut holes he gleefully called Timbits like he was a born and bred Canadian.

“You go ahead,” she said to her assistant, avoiding his curious gaze.

“This is a surprise,” Ryan said, stepping out of the way of people heading inside, but he kept his gaze on her face. She turned her back as much as she could, praying she wouldn’t be recognized.

“You’re going to work,” she said, looking at his uniform. Seeing him all jacked up like that was not good for her unrequited desire for the man.

“I am,” he murmured, leaning in a bit. “But I’ve always got time to talk to you.”

She told her fluttering stomach to stop being such a teenage girl. “Good, you’ve saved me from having to look at donuts I can’t eat. My assistant is addicted to the ones covered in white powder.”

He held up his own brown paper bag, his eyes dancing like he knew he was being bad. “He’s crazy. You gotta go for the fritters. I could share.”

“So tempting,” she breathed, before reluctantly shaking her head.

“I know,” he said, his eyes dropping to her mouth, and maybe it was because they were in public, and nothing could happen, or maybe it was because forty-eight hours had eroded her self-control, but she decided to allow herself a little flirt.

“I like the uniform, by the way. You look good in it,” she’d said as she looked him over again. He looked more than good—taller, broader, stronger in green camouflage. “I mean, you always look good, but you look especially good in that.”

His grin flashed bright in his face, but before they could say anything else, Emmett came out and Ryan excused himself before she could make introductions—which was for the best.

Emmett gave her a look, but he didn’t ask and she didn’t offer any explanation for the conversation.

She stared out the window as they headed to a local gallery, wondering where in town Ryan’s armouries was located. Where did he go in these few hours of work, when he got to be someone other than Dad?

Even though he never complained about being a non-stop parent, it still seemed to take its toll.
 

She knew a fair bit about his life now, although he never shared anything specific. They mostly talked about hypothetical situations and bucket lists, but every so often he’d reference people in his life, and she’d stitch that piece into the secret patchwork of facts. She thought about that pieced together picture of Ryan Howard a lot when they weren’t together.

She also thought about how careful she’d been not to give him quite the same access.
Soon,
she thought. She’d tell him soon.

— —

The next night, she almost did, but he’d had a bad day, and she was heading out of town for the weekend, going to Toronto for a press junket… she told herself she didn’t want to dump her career information on him and then run away, but deep down she knew she was just being cowardly.
 

So instead of coming clean, she let him tease her about her big city ways and her attachment to hot flower water. She poked him to think about where he might like to take the kids when they were older, and how awesome it would be when they all liked steak. It was a nice visit, but his black mood persisted.

“You sure I can’t offer you some of my tea?” she asked as she yawned, holding out her cup.

He growled good-naturedly under his breath.

She yanked the thermos back. “Okay, it’s not your thing. I get it.”

He winced. “Sorry. I’m poor company tonight.”

“Today’s shoot didn’t go well, either. Maybe it’s a full moon or something, everyone’s off kilter.”

“I’d believe it,” he muttered, but above them the moon was just a sliver. “Of course, my kids go crazy a few times a month, so it’s likely sugar hangover more than anything.”

”Mmm, sugar.”

“Now you’re wishing I’d shared that donut with you, eh?”

 
She laughed and leaned against him, and he put his arm around her.

And when she stood, reluctantly, needing to get to bed because she had an extra early makeup call in the morning, he pulled her in close for a hug.

That’s all it was, just a hug, but an awareness pulsed through her entire body that she wanted more.

“I’m going to Toronto for a few days,” she whispered into his neck, trying not to get lost in the scent of him and the warmth of his skin.
 

“I’ll be here when you get back.” He tightened his grip on her and she closed her eyes.

Had any man ever hugged her for this long? Any arms ever been this strong around her? And still he didn’t ask for anything else. Didn’t want to be seen as her plus one or take a selfie with her after she’d fallen asleep in his bed.

What cruel irony that the only man who didn’t want her for anything other than herself was the one man she’d probably never have a chance with. She didn’t need him to explain that he wasn’t ready to bring a woman into his house. She’d tried hard not to listen to the rumours, but she knew his wife had died the previous year. And the house she was staying in belonged to his in-laws, so it wasn’t like she could invite him into her bed, either.

And you’re lying to him.
That weighed heavier on her every time they came together. But if she—no,
when
she told him, it would be over. She knew that without a doubt. She was going to hurt him, badly, because she’d kept this secret from him.

But she couldn’t tell him, because she wasn’t ready to let him go yet. It was awful and selfish, but Holly had never had anything like this before. She’d dated another actor for more than a year, and never shared a tenth of the intimacy she’d already shared with Ryan.

She’d learned in the last week what a true connection was, and it had nothing to do with sex. It gutted her to think that she’d never get a chance to deepen that connection with him.

“You okay?” he asked quietly as he let her go, his gaze raking over her face.

She gazed up at him, willing herself to just focus on
him
and let go of her feelings. She looked at his face, barely covered in twenty-four hours of stubble. His hair, just creeping over his ears, and longer, scruffier on top. She smoothed her hands over his chest and down his sides to his solid, thick waist. “There’s a lot about me you don’t know.”

“I know you aren’t asking me for anything, or looking at me with pity in your eyes. I know you understand I don’t have anything to give. That’s all I need.” He squeezed her hands in his, his fingers curling all the way around her smaller fists. “You’re shaking. Are you cold?”

“I’m…” She took a deep breath. “We’ve never talked about your wife, and—”

“And I don’t want to,” he interrupted her roughly.

“Okay. I wasn’t going to. But I think—”

“Don’t. Don’t think about my life.” He dropped her hands and shoved his fingers through his hair, shadowing his face.

She froze. How had their conversation gone so sideways, so suddenly?
 

She reached out, her fingertips brushing his forearm. “Ryan, I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have anything to be sorry for.” His voice, gruff and heavy, sounded like an entirely different person to the one who’d just spent an hour teasing and asking her questions. He looked down at her hand, and slowly twisted out of her grasp. “This…thing between us. It was a break from reality for me, okay? And if you can’t be on board with that, if you insist on talking about me and my feelings and all the stuff I don’t want to talk about, then I need to ask you not to come over.”

Shaking now for an entirely different reason, she took a step back. All the gentleness was gone, and in its place was a defensive shield. She knew that’s why he was barking at her, but it still stung. “Did you ever think that maybe it was a break from reality for me, too?” Even though her voice was trembling and she was totally showing her hand, she kept going. “And what about that talk of friendship? I c-care about you. I thought we were getting close enough to talk.”

“I guess it’s not that easy to escape my demons.” He looked at her again, but it wasn’t just that his gaze was hooded and dark. An entirely different man stared at her for a second, and in that instant, she thought it might be possible that she was seeing more of Ryan than she’d ever glimpsed before.

But he didn’t want her to see that side of him—how broken he was. And maybe that was fair. She’d just wanted to play at being normal, too. Her demons paled in comparison to his, she was sure, but they’d both been pretending.

She bit her lip to keep from crying. No way would she let him see how deep he’d gotten under her skin. But she had to make sure he knew she got that this was hard for him. “I’ll go. But if you change your mind, you know where I am. I’m sorry if I’ve overstepped.”

“I’m the one who should be sorry. And I am, but this is for the best.” He exhaled roughly, and for a second she thought he was going to reach for her. Instead, he hardened his mouth and nodded. “Goodbye, Holly.”