Rekindled (5 page)

Keeping one hand on the back of Adam's coat, she glanced over her
shoulder and took a step back. Her dog's prints veered off the trail. Hopefully
he was safe. A branch cracked beneath her feet. Her heart pounded so hard, she
thought it might come out of her chest.

Two more slow steps back.

Adam's build blocked out her view of the bear but she could hear
it swatting the ground and snorting. "Keep going, nice and slow."

More leaves rustled and something crashed through the forest, much
closer to them. Fear of a second bear, or a wolf, filled her. She gripped the
flashlight, held it over her head, prepared to swing.

With a growl, a familiar black and white body burst out of the
trees. Bear stood ten feet in front of her and Adam, growling and barking at
the bear. The bear swatted the ground again.

Gemma pushed forward a few steps. "I have to get him. Bear,
stop!"

"No." Adam's hands clamped onto her arms and jerked her
into his chest. "Stay with me."

The Akita continued to bark and howl and growl.

Adam's voice rumbled in her ear, "Keep backing up with
me."

Her hand lifted to his arms. She gripped tight and allowed his
movements to guide her steps. The standoff between her pet and the wild animal
continued in snarls and growls. Finally, the bear retreated into the woods.

Adam whistled for the dog. Bear backed up toward them, keeping his
face turned toward the direction the bear had gone. "Let's move. Keep it
slow."

With shaking fingers, Gemma grabbed hold of Bear's collar. Her
limbs felt like jelly. She concentrated on staying on the path, ears primed for
sounds of anything other than the crunch of snow under their feet. The
snowflakes fell thicker and faster, swirling and making it hard to see.

When they passed the curve in the path, Adam turned and faced her.
Tension lined his face. His gloved hand grasped hers tight. "We should be
fine now."

Her breaths still came too quick. "How did that happen? It's
winter. Bears should be hibernating."

"Females give birth in January. I've heard stories of sows
walking outside their dens when having labor pains. They're more likely to
attack because they're agitated. We were lucky."

Lucky.

She squeezed his hand, and held on as they continued walking.
Focusing on taking deep breaths, she kept looking over her shoulder, waiting
for the bear to reappear. Finally, Adam's home came into view. Relief seeped
into her system.

They reached the back door. Bear nudged against her side and
cocked his head. She dropped to her knees and wrapped her arms around him,
burying her face in his fur. "Such a brave boy. But don't ever run away
again."

Then she stood and turned to Adam. Like Bear, he'd put himself in
front of her. Emotions tripped over each other. Words weren't enough to express
her thanks. She wrapped her arms around him and held on tight.

Adam wrapped his arms around
Gemma and willed his system to settle. The encounter with the bear could have
met a much more gruesome end. He couldn't stop the images bombarding his mind. By
some manner of luck, they'd stayed safe. Lucky didn't begin to cover the way he
felt. The need to hold onto Gemma was as vital as the need to breathe. He
couldn't let her go.

Some twist of fate brought her back into his life.

She still mattered. More than he'd thought.

He still cared. More than he'd imagined.

He wanted a second chance.

In the four years they’d been apart, he’d felt like a part of him
was missing. An emptiness that nothing could chase away. Gemma was the missing
piece. Holding her, being with her, clicked everything back into perfect
balance. Now, he just had to convince her to take a chance on him.

Pressing a kiss to the top of her head, he unlocked the door.

She stopped at the doorframe and grabbed hold of Bear's collar.
"We've caused you enough trouble for one night. We should go."

Bear tugged her forward, over the threshold and into the house.

"Come on, boy, we have to get home." She planted her
feet and tugged, but Bear turned into an immovable statue.

Adam shook his head. "You should stay a while. After that
encounter, I need a drink." Or five. "I'm guessing you do, too."

"I could use a drink. And I need to return your hat and
gloves." She released her hold on Bear's collar. He shook himself, turned
in three circles, and then took off down the hall. The sound of paws skittering
as they hit hardwood floors followed his zig-zagging path to the kitchen.

Laughing over the dog's antics, she turned back to him. Eyes
bright, cheeks rosy, lips curved in a perfect smile.

Finding breathing difficult, Adam reached out. "I'll
help."

Gentle fingers pulled the hat off her head, then he removed the
gloves one at a time.

Gemma's quick intake of breath broke the silence. He locked eyes
with her, and the intensity of her gaze sent a rush of heat through his body.

Making an effort to relax his stiffening muscles, he slowly
lowered the zipper, and then pushed the coat off her shoulders.

The fit of her blue sweater hinted at the curves hidden
underneath. Understated and sexy.

His fingers brushed the underside of her chin. Her sigh and her
soft skin encouraged him to continue.

"You looked cute in my gear." He trailed his fingers
down the side of her neck and dipped to trace the collar of her shirt.

Gemma laid her hands on his chest, her expression serious, and her
voice soft and clear. "You put yourself in front of me out there, between
me and the bear."

He'd moved on instinct. Protecting her was all that mattered.
"I told you I'd keep you safe."

"Thank you." She lifted onto her toes and rubbed her
cheek against his. "But just so you know, if anything had happened, I
would have fought to protect you, too."

When she pulled back, her fingers curled into the front of his
shirt. Her gaze searched his, then focused on his mouth, then raised to meet
his again. Time apart hadn't weakened their connection. He couldn't stop the
surge of his heartbeat. He titled his head, leaning down, drawn to her. The
delicate shiver that shook through her body snapped his focus to her comfort. "Let's
get warmed up."

Wrapping his arm around her, he walked with her into the kitchen.
He started a fresh pot of coffee while Gemma told him stories of Bear’s
exploits over the years.

A few minutes later, they settled in the den with cups of coffee
laced with a shot of bourbon. Bear lay on the floor by their feet. As she drank
her coffee, Gemma's eyes softened and the smile gracing her lips widened. Little
by little, they shifted closer together and the room’s temperature ticked up a
few degrees. The need to kiss her overwhelmed him. He set their cups on a side
table. When he sat back, Gemma snuggled against him.

In the quiet room, the only sounds were the ticking of the clock
and their breathing. Violet eyes steady on his, Gemma laid her hand on his
chest. His eyes briefly closed at the contact. No one compared to her.

He cupped her cheek with his hand and brushed his thumb across her
lips. They parted under his touch. He fought against the need to rush. She was
back in his arms and he wanted to savor the moment. Adam moved in slow and
gently pressed a kiss to her right cheek. Then, he placed a kiss on her left
cheek.

He pulled back, a breath away, his pulse pounding. Her eyes locked
on his and she smiled. They watched each other as they slowly moved together
and lips pressed against lips.

Testing.

Teasing.

Tasting.

Her scent, her taste, her feel, were all the same as before. The
powerful punch of sensations overwhelmed him. Drawing back, he traced his finger
down her cheek. Whispering his name, she tilted her face toward his, her eyes
filled with emotion. Adam slanted his lips over hers and shifted to a more
comfortable position. His fingers on her neck urged her closer.

Gemma slid her hands around his back and held him tight. The soft
curves of her chest and hips pressed against him.

He groaned. With one hand tangled in her hair and the other
reaching under her shirt to caress the soft skin of her back, he opened himself
to feelings and sensations he'd tried to bury.

She was as intoxicating as ever.

Bear leaped from the rug, and in one graceful move, settled his
one-hundred-twenty pound bulk across their laps. Grunting under the weight,
Adam pushed, trying to shift the dog's body off of Gemma.

Her laughter filled the room. "Sorry. He doesn't realize he's
too big to be a lap dog. Bear, down."

Bear whined, but resumed his spot on the floor, this time, lying
directly on their feet.

"This guy deserves a medal for bravery." Adam patted the
soft fur.

"So do you." Gemma directed his lips back to hers, and
he didn't care if ten more dogs piled on top of them. Kissing Gemma after such
a long delay was better than any medal.

Better than anything else in the world.

Two days after the standoff with the bear, Gemma had a hard time
letting her own Bear out of her sight. His protective guard stayed elevated,
too. He followed her from room to room and stuck close to her side at the job
site. Only Adam was able to coax him away. Games of catch followed each lunch
hour, with Adam hurling baseballs into a field and Bear jumping to fetch them.
Adam's love of the sport was obvious. She wished she knew of a way to help him
with his game.

Standing in the warmth of the Hudson Contractors office, she
organized a closet bursting with office supplies. Adam had taken Bear outside
for a walk. Stretching her muscles, she crossed to his desk and looked at the
calendar. Two weeks until spring training. He'd told her the East Coast teams
held spring training in Florida, while the West Coast teams held theirs in
Arizona.

What would happen when he left? If he left? She wasn't any closer
to her decision on Hollywood. The realization that she hadn't given acting much
of a thought in days hit her, and with weakened legs, she sank into Adam's desk
chair.

What did she want?

The answer was immediate.

Him.

It had always been him. She'd screwed up once. She didn't want to
mess things up again. A second chance didn't come around for everyone. But what
if he didn't feel the same way? A few kisses didn't mean he wanted her the way
she wanted him. Even if they were pulse-scrambling, thought-scattering,
blood-pumping kisses. A few evenings together didn’t mean he wanted her back in
his life. Even if they were filled with flirting and laughter and a sense of
rightness. A few days filled with playful texts and quick calls didn’t mean she
was on his mind as often as he was on hers. Or did it? He wasn't immune. Not
with the way his body had heated and wrapped around hers, or the way his eyes
crinkled when he smiled at her, or the way his voice shifted when he said her
name.

She spun the chair in a slow circle.

Being cautious would be wise. Plunging headlong into something
wouldn’t be smart, no matter how
right
it felt. She wasn’t the same girl
who’d left Hunter’s Peak four years earlier. Adam had changed, too.

Thinking about her future, making plans for her next step needed
to be the focus of her attention. She loved acting too much to completely step
away from it, but the thought of toiling away in L.A. for months or years was as
appealing as another encounter with the bear.

Collar jangling, Bear trotted into the room and padded over to
greet her. Like magic, her stress evaporated.

Adam entered a few seconds later, carrying a large stack of
papers. "Thanks for organizing the closet."

"No problem. Need some help?"

"Can you grab a few rubber bands? They're in the top drawer
on your right."

She pulled it open. Underneath a tangled pile of rubber bands and
paper clips, the words 
official
 and 
retirement
 and 
baseball
 jumped
out from a piece of paper. A heavy feeling settled over her stomach. Her
fingers tingled as she held it out to him. "What's this?"

He set the papers on another desk, his expression unreadable.
"I thought about retiring."

"But you love the game. I know you do. I’ve watched you
pitch. And you're good." Desperate to make him see, she rattled off his
statistics as a member of both the Trappers and the Storm. Though she’d never
admitted it to anyone, she’d watched nearly every game of his major league
career from the comfort of her apartment or the local sports bar. "You
can't give up yet."

He rubbed his hands over his face. "There's more to it than
my loving the game."

She scanned the document. When she reached the bottom, the tension
clutching her muscles eased. "It says here that you have to mail this to
the league."

"That's the way it works."

She ignored his comment and pushed to her feet. "Look at the
date on the paper. If you really wanted to retire, you'd have sent it in three
months ago. Since you didn't, that tells me you still want to give playing a
shot. And you should."

At his side, his hand curled into a fist. "Of course I want
to play. Do you have any idea how frustrating it is to want something so much
but it's just beyond your reach?"

"Of course I do. Every time I watched you pitch for the
Storm, I felt that way." The words slipped out so fast, she couldn't stop
them.

His jaw slackened. "What?"

Music she recognized as his cell phone's ringer played from his
pocket, but he didn't move to answer it. Body tense, he watched her with that
steady, serious gaze she recognized from his playing days. After a long moment,
his voice ground out, "How long did you feel that way?"

Would he think her weak? Pathetic? She had to be honest, no matter
how vulnerable it left her. "Since the first game you pitched."

"Damn it." He pushed his hand through his hair and
walked to the window. His features tightened into a brooding scowl. Muttering
another swear word, he shook his head. "I've kicked myself for four years,
blaming myself for being so focused on the game that I lost you."

Gemma's heartbeat ticked into overdrive. She couldn’t believe what
she was hearing. He blamed himself for losing 
her
? She inhaled a
deep breath that did nothing to soothe the nerves needling her stomach. "I
hated being stuck here while you lived your dream. A dream that apparently
didn't include me." The admission nearly choked her.

He stared at her while a vein in his neck pulsed. "I didn't
know if the Storm would keep me or send me back down after a couple of games. I
was a career minor-leaguer. I didn't have anything to offer you."

"Your heart would have been enough."

"Gemma." His eyes flared with heat. He reached for her,
but she backed away, emotions ripped open, raw and exposed.

“Nevermind. It’s fine.”

He stalked toward her until her back pressed against the filing
cabinet. "Damn it, do you think you're the only one who wanted? Why do you
think I concentrated so hard on playing ball? I wanted to be a success, for
you, but by then it was too late. You were in L.A. and had a whole new
life."

"I love acting, but rushing off to L.A. was a desperate move.
I only headed there because you didn't ask me to go with you." Her cell
phone's ringtone played from her purse. She glanced toward it, then back into
Adam's thunderous expression.

“You were photographed with other guys often enough. Ticked me
off.”

Her stomach knotted. "I thought you'd moved on, so I tried to
do the same. Only I couldn't. No matter how many times I told myself to forget you,
I couldn't."

The phone on his desk rang. Growling, he snatched it up.
"Hudson Contracting."

Harsh passion drained, leaving an emotionless mask. Adam's hand
tightened around the receiver. "I'll be right there."

"What's happened?" She crossed to his side in the span
of a heartbeat. The urge to soothe whatever stressed him pulsed steady and
strong.

Dropping the phone on its cradle, he met her gaze. "My dad
collapsed. They took him to the hospital."