Sacred Hart (9 page)

She pulled away and brought her hands to my chest. Our eyes remained on each other’s mouths. She bit her bottom lip and lifted her gaze. We silently watched each other as we caught our breath. The absence of words only fueled the need building in my stomach. The shy smile that eased across her lips made me grin.

“I can feel your heart…” the heat of her palms permeated through my shirt, “…it’s beating too fast.”

I dusted my thumbs along her cheeks, her face still between my hands. I brought my lips to hers again and kissed her deeply. When I pulled away I asked, “What about now?” I dropped my hands to hers and increased the pressure of her touch against my chest.

She nodded.

I lifted her hands to my face and her eyes closed. Her breathing amplified, and when she finally opened them again, the blue sparkled with wonder or fear, I couldn’t be sure which. But if she was feeling anything like me, I’d imagine it was a little of both. I released her hands, and she lowered them to my waist again. I brought my forehead to hers for a brief instant, unsure of what I needed to say, and then pulled away.

“Maggie, I…” She stared at me, her upper lip trembled, and I gave in. “I haven’t done this in a long time.”

“You haven’t?” She anxiously played at the frayed thread on her top again.

I took her hand with mine stilling the motion. “I haven’t.” I used my free hand and pushed a piece of her hair behind her ear.

“Me either.” She puffed out a short laugh, and I smiled. “I’ve got Beth, and the last time I… I mean… I can’t even remember the last time I kissed…” She groaned and shook her head. “It’s been too long. Let’s just leave it at that.” A slight nervous giggle parted her lips as I lifted my hand to her cheek.

I wanted her to know the last kiss I’d had before her had been a lie. I wanted to tell her she’s the first person in a very long time that I wanted to open up to. I wanted her to know that this kiss… her touch… was the first thing in ten goddamn years that meant something to me. I wanted to speak the words, but instead the words closed my throat, the fear churned in my stomach, and I dropped my hand from her face.

Maggie laced her fingers through mine and hopped off the counter. I wasn’t ready for her to leave, but I had no clue how to get her to stay, so I figured I’d just ask. “Will you stay for a little while longer?”

She nodded and her lips pulled into a dimpled smile. “I’d like that.”

Maggie was like the needle of a compass. No matter how hard I tried to get lost inside myself, she pulled me north, up, toward the light… toward her.

Should a man be allowed to taste that sweet?
Ryan’s warm hand was in mine; my heart still fluttered in my chest, and the taste of vanilla still lingered on my lips. He’d kissed me with a slow resolve, a simmered confection of sugary bliss. My jaw ached with need. He kissed me like I was fragile, precious, like he was honored. I’d never felt so special in my whole life. I would’ve spent all night kissing Ryan Hartford, but as his hand dropped from mine, the fantasy of being lost in time with his mouth on mine faded. My cheeks were still heated as his gaze feathered along my skin.

“I should clean up. It won’t take me long. If you want… you can wait in the diner or—”

“I’d be more than happy to help.” I smiled, and he shook his head with a quiet laugh.

He rubbed the back of his neck, something I noticed he would only do when he was nervous. “I was going to say, I should only be about fifteen minutes…” He swallowed and dropped his eyes. “I don’t have much to do, but you can wash up at my place.”

I looked down at my flour covered hands and scrubs, and a smile spread across my face. “I think that might be a good idea.” I wiped the flour off the front of my pants, but I was sure my butt was covered too.
Great.

“The door should be open. I’ll walk you, though. I don’t want you to head back by yourself in the dark.”

“Thanks.” My shy smile made me feel like a teenager again. It was nice to feel light, admired, and as he took my hand in his again my heart kick-started.

We walked through the front of the diner and around back in a mutual silence. His thumb trailed along mine, and I wondered what he was thinking. I wondered if he’d kiss me again, if he even wanted to. The lines he traced up and down my thumb with his sent a pleasant shiver up my arm.

“Are you cold?” he asked, just as we stepped up onto his porch. Fresh cut firewood filled the space around his front door on either side. I nodded, and he opened the door. “I’ll start a fire before I head back.”

“Okay.”

I hadn’t felt uneasy. If anything, I was excited, but as I stepped over the threshold and into
his
private world, the excitement turned to a swell of anxious butterflies in my stomach. The space was small — a galley kitchen opened to the left and a wood burning stove sat off to the right. A large bookshelf, filled with old books and quite a few new ones as well, ran along the right wall. There was a worn looking leather sofa that rested against the center wall. The floors were a light pine, and the walls were in need of fresh coat of paint. I assumed the pale tan color, at one point, had once been a warm mocha.

“It’s not much, but it’s mine for now.” Ryan squeezed my hand gently, and I smiled. He motioned to the short hallway that was just off the kitchen. “That’s the bathroom, and my room is to the left. Feel free to wash up. I’ll start a fire in the stove. I have one in my room, too. It’s my only means of heat.” There were only two doors that I could see in the hall. The bathroom was open, and I could see his khaki colored shower curtain that had an outdoors theme. The bottom was covered with blue spruce, moose, and deer.

I suppressed my giggle. “It’s charming.”

He laughed openly. “It’s a dump, but it’s a home, so it’s fine with me.”

“I’m serious. I like it. It’s a man’s man kind of place, you know?” I let go of his hand and moved to the bookshelf. There was a large oversized brown chair that sat in the corner next to the bookcase. The fabric looked soft, and I tried to imagine Ryan sitting peacefully, reading, his long legs at ease as his eyes poured over the words. I inspected his collection and noticed there were at least two rows of old Louis L'amour books, a few classics, some poetry, but most of the newer books were contemporary fiction. I pulled out a favorite of mine and flipped through the pages.

“I love this book.” My smile was wide as I looked over my shoulder. Ryan was kneeling in front of the wood stove placing kindling inside through the open metal door.

His gaze fell to the cover and his smile pulled across his face, the creases around his eyes deepened. “
The Secret History
. It’s one of my favorites as well.” He grabbed the matches off the top of the stove and struck it across the box. The smell of sulfur filled the air as he dropped the match into the stove. He stood and closed the small door as the fire grew inside.

“Are these all yours?” I asked in awe as I placed the book back on the shelf. I loved books, all things bookish, and men who liked to read got a few extra points as far as I was concerned.

He moved just behind me and placed his hand on my right shoulder. His fingers massaged the muscle, and I almost groaned. “No. All the new ones are mine and a few of these.” He pointed to a small section of paper-backed classics:
The Catcher in the Rye; To Kill A Mocking Bird; Paradise Lost; The Count of Monte Cristo; Wuthering Heights
… the basics. He chuckled. “It’s all I really spend my money on, that and stuff for my truck.”

His hand moved slowly down my arm, and I turned to face him. He was so close, our bodies almost touched, and as he brought his other hand to my left arm, I held my breath. I lifted my chin and my eyes eagerly found his. I brought the palms of my hands to his chest again, and the feel of his heart was profound. The longer we watched each other, the faster it beat. He lowered his forehead to mine, and I finally allowed myself to exhale.

“I want to kiss you again,” he spoke softly and placed his lips just above the crease between my brows. “But, I’m afraid.” His breath tickled my skin.

“Of what?” I whispered.

“You can’t save me, Maggie.” His words were a prayer as his lips grazed the corner of my mouth.

Ryan’s hands rested on either side of my neck, his fingers at the nape and his thumbs pressed lightly against my jaw as he leaned my head back further. We were nose to nose, and his stare sent heat down my limbs. He was begging me to save him. “I don’t want to. I just want you… as you are.”

He closed his eyes briefly, his jaw tight, and when he opened them again, they were filled with resolve. Ryan’s mouth met mine in a tender collision. A slow pulse. His teeth pulled across my bottom lip, and a shock shot down my spine. Our mouths were seeking, tasting, needing. The pads of his thumbs pressed firmly against my jaw. The touch commanded, it melted the sweetness and created a fire in my chest. His heart was pumping a furious pattern under my palms, and my fingers curled at the fabric of his shirt, desperate to have him closer. His hands slid from around my neck, down my arms, causing me to shudder. He kissed me once and then again as he took my hands in his, breaking our connection. The resolve in his eyes flickered as the space grew between us.

“I thought you had a diner to clean.” I smirked in an attempt to lighten his changing mood.

Ryan’s eyes lit with humor, and his laugh softened his features. His smile was broad as he shook his head and his hand ran through his hair. “Give me fifteen minutes?”

He rubbed the back of his neck again, and it almost made me laugh. I was grateful I wasn’t the only one treading water hopelessly. Ryan was awkward, and I liked it.

“I’ll get cleaned up.”

“I have some T-shirts and sweats if you want to get out of those scrubs.” His eyes widened. “I mean… I figured—”

“It’s okay. I think I got most of the flour off.” The corners of my lips lifted into a small grin.

“If you change your mind, they’re in the second drawer on the left in my dresser.” He leaned down and kissed me on the cheek before he turned to leave.

Ryan
was
awkward. He was distant sometimes, and I had no clue why or what had happened to him to make him that way. His front door shut, and I stood quietly in his apartment. He had just kissed me like he wanted me to know his soul, his secrets, and his pain. He twisted me up with a delicious tension, and I hoped tonight he’d relieve me. Give me a small piece of him, his past, and let me in, even if it was just a brief glimmer.

I headed into the bathroom and laughed at my appearance. My cheeks were flushed and covered with small smudges of flour. I reached into my pocket for my hair tie and pulled my long hair up into a messy bun. I used the white bar of soap on the side of the sink and washed my hands first and then splashed my face. The warm water felt good against my skin, and I lathered the soap in my hands as I hovered over the sink. I scrubbed my face next, and Ryan’s smell of soap and cotton enveloped me. As I rinsed my face, the water trickled down my arms and dripped onto my pants.

I stood and patted my face dry with the towel hanging next to the sink. “Damn it,” I muttered to myself once I realized I’d gotten water all over the front of my scrub top. I turned and stared at the closed door on the other side of the hallway. Ryan’s room. I chewed at my bottom lip. I wasn’t sure how late I was going to stay, but I knew I wasn’t leaving anytime soon. I tiptoed to his door like I was about to get caught doing something wrong. I shook my head at my immaturity and opened the door.

The room was small. The dresser sat to my right, and his full sized bed sat to my left. In the far right corner was the wood burning stove he’d mentioned. The black metal pipe snaked up and out through the ceiling. There weren’t any windows, and the walls had wood paneling creating a dark space. The same pine flooring flowed into the room, and the green and blue quilt that laid across his bed reminded me of my own. His bedside table had an antique looking stained glass lamp and, just underneath it, a pile of books.

The only electronic in his entire place was a clock on his dresser. The red digital numbers read fifteen past ten. He wasn’t here, but I felt his presence. Ryan’s smell, his warmth, it embraced me as I moved toward the dresser. I grabbed a pair of light gray sweats and a navy blue Seattle Seahawks T-shirt from the drawer. I hurriedly replaced my clothes with his. Being naked in his room made my heart race, and it made me wish for things I shouldn’t… not yet at least. I rolled the top of his sweats and, after the third roll, they finally fit. My small frame drowned in his shirt, but I liked it. I liked being surrounded by him, even if it was only metaphorically. I folded my scrubs and, just as I walked out of his bedroom, the front door shut.

Ryan’s eyes drank me in, and his lips broke into a giant smile. “You look good.”

I laughed and waved my hand down my body. “I clean up nice.”

He placed the brown paper bag he had in his hand on the small table near the kitchen and removed his apron. His jeans were covered in grease stains, and his dark shirt was dusted with flour. He reached into his pocket and removed a set of keys, dropping those on the table, then proceeded to kick off his boots. “I brought you a sandwich in case you were hungry. You can’t just have apple pie for dinner.”

“Thanks.” I wasn’t really hungry — my stomach was too full of nerves — but I figured I’d eat anyway since he’d gone to the trouble of making something for me.

His brows narrowed. “Do you mind if I get cleaned up.”

“Not all.” I smiled.

“Make yourself at home.” He moved toward me, and my pulse quickened as he moved a strand of hair off my cheek. “Thanks for staying. It’s nice having someone over beside Tony.” He chuckled.

“I bet.” I bit the corner of my lip. “Besides, I think I kind of like you… well… I could just be using you for the free food, but—”

He leaned down and kissed me; the interruption made me smile against his mouth. “I like feeding you,” he said as he pulled away. He stood to his full height. “I’ll be quick. There’s soda in the fridge, chips in the pantry… like I said… make yourself at home.”