Mending Places (21 page)

By the time the rustle of sleeping bags and zippers hushed, Jeff had joined her and Dave, taking up residence on her left. While they shared marshmallows, Micah scowled from across the fire. Twice Dave had tried to include him in the conversation only to be given abrupt answers. She couldn’t help feeling that her goal of growing closer to Micah was faltering.

Micah watched Hanna over the flickering campfire. The white of her teeth glowed with each smile, and he’d seen them plenty of times in the last hour.

He gritted his teeth and forced himself to look away. The three of them had carried on like long-lost pals, chattering and laughing about everything from roommate pet peeves to Jeff’s lack of coordination. Hanna’s face was animated as she talked. Jeff was only being friendly, but Micah read the interest on Dave’s face, in his body language. If he touched Hanna’s arm one more time, Micah was going to leap across the fire and slug him.

He poked the logs with his stick and the fire crackled, sending sparks of light into the air. He had no right to Hanna. She was free to have a relationship with anyone she chose. So why did he feel so possessive? He glanced across the fire, clenching his jaw when Dave touched her yet again.

Didn’t the man need some sleep? He glanced at his watch and saw it was past eleven. It was a good thing Micah was a night owl because he wasn’t about to turn in and leave Hanna alone with these guys, no matter how nice they seemed.

Soon Jeff retired to his tent, and Micah looked at Dave, hoping he’d take the hint and go too. No such luck. He and Hanna picked up right where they’d left off, albeit more quietly now that the comic had left.

He took a novel from his backpack and read by the light of the fire. Five minutes passed, then ten. Finally, at eleven-thirty, Dave got up and said his good-nights. Micah exhaled loudly when the zipper sealed the tent flap.

Across the fire Hanna had removed one of her boots and was scrutinizing her heel. “I think I’ve got a blister after all.”

Micah fished the moleskin out of his pack and joined her on the log, willing to help but still peeved about Dave. “I was beginning to think he
was going to sleep out here.” He couldn’t keep the gruffness from his voice. He felt her watching him as he cut the circle out of the material.

“What’s your problem tonight?” she whispered, as if worried the words might leak through the tent walls.

He peeled off the backing and centered it over her blister. “I don’t have a problem.” He pressed the moleskin against her skin, then put the first-aid kit away.

“You were short with Dave earlier. It’s not like you to be rude to the guests.”

“It’s not like
you
to flirt with them.”

“I wasn’t!” she hissed, stiffening defensively.

He pinned her with a glare.

“I was just being friendly.” She crossed her arms and raised her chin a notch.

“You may think you’re being friendly, but guys like that take it as interest. And they’re only after one thing.”

“How do you know what they’re after?”

“Because I used to be one of those guys.” He picked up her stick and poked at a log. “I’ve seen the way Dave’s been looking at you. It’s no coincidence he walked behind you today. He’s been checking out your rear end all day.”

She drew in a breath, and her cheeks became tinged with a pink that had nothing to do with the fire’s heat. “He was not.”

“He was. He’s looking for a good time, and if you weren’t so naive, you’d know it.”

Her mouth opened and closed several times before she recovered enough to turn away from him and stare into the fire. Her face was set, her color high. “Why are you so interested anyway?” When she faced him, her eyes flickered with anger. “You wanted me to leave you alone, and that’s what I’ve done all day. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

He didn’t know what to say. He did want her to leave him alone. But at the same time, he was drawn to her. He couldn’t understand himself, much less explain it.

“Why won’t you give in to it?” she asked. “This stuff about staying single all your life, it’s just an excuse for someone who’s afraid to take a chance.”

He watched the fire lick at the logs, feeling the heat from it, from the woman sitting too close beside him. She laid her fingers artlessly on his knee, and he nearly jumped from the jolt that coursed through his leg. His breath caught in his throat.

“Take a chance on me,” she said.

He looked at her eyes, shining with boldness. She was so innocent, so pure. She needed to understand they were wrong for each other, that he didn’t deserve her. “You don’t want me, Hanna. I’m not like you.”

Her fingers tightened on his knee in a squeeze that almost sent him scampering across the campsite. “What’s that got to do with anything?”

He dropped his leg straight, breaking the contact with her hand. He’d just have to convince her. Convince her that she didn’t want him. “You’re probably just as innocent as you seem, aren’t you? Been saving yourself for your husband someday, right?”

Color heightened her cheeks, but to her credit she didn’t flinch at his expression. “So?”

“How many partners do you think I’ve had?”

She looked away. “I don’t know. That’s none of my business.”

He watched her use a twig to draw circles in the dirt.

“I don’t know either,” he said.

The stick stopped twirling as she looked at him.

“I’ve had so many women, used so many woman, I have no idea how many.”

Her head snapped toward the stick, which she flicked in the dirt again. “Stop it.”

His heart tightened, and he was surprised how much it hurt to tell her the truth about himself. “Not very appealing, is it? Knowing I’ve been with women I barely knew.”

“Stop it!” She looked at him again, tears sparkling in her eyes.

His stomach clenched. Those wide eyes accused him, not of being immoral, but of trying to hurt her. He was guilty. Suddenly he couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe. All he could do was feel. Feel the dance of pleasure in his gut, the rush of adrenaline through his limbs. He looked at her trembling lips. He’d never wanted anyone so badly.

He leaned forward, wanting desperately to soothe the hurt he’d caused. When his lips touched hers, he gave in to the desire he felt. Never had a woman driven him to such distraction. He felt her lips move innocently against his and knew he’d never felt such passion. And he didn’t think it was abstinence alone that stoked the fire in his gut. That a simple kiss could so move him terrified him.

The tiny moan that tore from her throat nearly drove him over the edge.
Sweet Jesus, help me.

Hanna had seen the promise in his eyes through her veil of tears before he’d drawn close. The moment was suspended in time, drawing out deliciously as she savored the way he looked at her. Not like a man afraid to take a chance, but like a man who had no choice.

His lips met hers, tentatively at first. Tasting, testing with a gentleness that melted her heart. Their breath mingled in a swirl of heat that seemed to come from deep within her. Of their own will, her arms slid to his shoulders. She buried her fingers in the silky softness of his hair and almost moaned when he drew her closer.

Sweet bliss, this meeting of hearts. She never wanted him to let her go.

He wrenched his mouth from hers and stood in the same motion. In two strides he was in front of the fire, running a hand through the hair she’d combed with her fingers. His body blocked the heat and light from the fire.

She tried to swallow but found her mouth dry as dirt. So that’s what all the fuss was about. Jess’s kisses had never been like that. It was like
comparing tomatoes and jalapeños. Her heart still thudded in her chest at twice the normal pace.

Why had he broken the kiss? Why did he stand with his back to her instead of looking her in the eye?

A sudden thought sent her stomach tumbling in a heavy heap. What if he’d found her touch repulsive or inexperienced? Of course, he could affect her with his kisses—he’d already admitted to plenty of practice. But she could count on one hand the times she’d been kissed. Had her attempts seemed fumbling and inept compared to the practiced women he’d been with? She shivered.

He cleared his throat. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

What was left of her confidence sagged hopelessly to the ground. The optimist in her wanted to ask why. Why shouldn’t he have done that? The coward in her wanted to run to her tent and lick her wounds in private.

The choice was taken from her when he walked to his tent and disappeared inside.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
 

Hanna turned onto Natalie’s street, braking for the squirrel that scampered across the road. It was a nice, upper-class area with roomy, two-story cedar and log homes and yards shaded with mature trees. She slowed her 4×4 as she neared her sister’s home. Everything looked so nice on the outside: a neatly trimmed yard, flowers sprouting a rainbow of colors from freshly mulched areas, a large house perched on a hill at the base of a butte. It was hard to believe that the orderly estate housed a shattered family.

Hanna parked in the driveway and grabbed the carpet cleaner from the backseat. Alex burst through the door and hugged her legs, paralyzing her for a moment. “Whoa there, fella! How’s my boy?”

Natalie smiled at her from the doorway. “You didn’t have to dress up on my account.”

Hanna spun in a pirouette, as best she could with the carpet cleaner in tow. In truth she wore her scroungiest T-shirt and denim shorts.

“You’re just in time for lunch. I made my lasagna and homemade breads ticks.”

Hanna brushed by her and set the cleaner on the floor. “What did I do to deserve that?”

Natalie gave a wry grin. “When you see the carpet, you’ll know. If you thought it was dirty last year …”

“Uh-oh, has someone been spilling drinks on the floor?” She gave Alex a mock glare.

“I didn’t mean to,” Alex said.

Hanna laughed and picked up Taylor for a hug.

After lunch Natalie put Taylor down for his nap, and she moved furniture around while Hanna cleaned the downstairs carpet. When Hanna stopped for a break, Natalie took over for a while. Before long, the entire downstairs carpeting was damp but clean.

Natalie sent Alex to the backyard to play while she and Hanna sat down at the bar for a cup of coffee.

“So, how are you and Keith doing? Have you had another counseling session?”

Natalie stirred the creamer into her coffee and laid the spoon on the bar. “I don’t know, Hanna. I had a session this week, but Keith didn’t come. And when he’s here, it’s like he’s not even my husband.”

“Do you think he’s still seeing her?”

“He sees her every day. How can he help it when she works with him?” She picked up her mug with trembling fingers and took a sip. “He’s still getting home late, so I’m pretty sure he’s spending time with her outside of work.” She blinked back tears. “And he’s not interested in me sexually; he hasn’t been for a long time. I should’ve seen it coming.”

“I’m so sorry, Nat.” She squeezed her sister’s hand.

“I sit on the couch watching cars turn onto our street, watching their headlights approach and pass our drive, wishing it would be him.”

Hanna glanced out the window to see Alex pushing another boy on the swing.