Snowfall on Haven Point (15 page)

He could have tried to conceal the truth when she guessed correctly that Christopher was his son, yet he had made the choice to confide in her.

It was completely unfair of him, then, to blast her in return.

“Do you need to go anywhere else while you're out?” she asked, her voice still cool, as they reached the town limits of Haven Point. “I can spare another hour before Chloe gets home from school when we need to drive up to Evergreen Springs to pick up Will.”

Her determined politeness made him feel even worse. “I don't think so. You've done enough.”

The moment he said the words, he knew they sounded wrong, hostile. He sighed. “That didn't come out the way I planned. Nothing I say does around you.”

“I'm sorry.”

She said the last word as a half question and he had to shake his head. “Why are
you
apologizing? I'm the one who's sorry. I just spent the last ten minutes trying to figure out why I'm such an ass around you.”

She didn't argue with his assertion—but then, he hadn't expected her to. She merely gave him a steady look. “What brilliant conclusion did you draw?”

He couldn't very well tell her his impossible attraction to her was clouding his normal courtesy.

“No brilliance here. Just a man who's forced to apologize once more for taking out his bad mood on you.”

She turned onto Riverbend Road but didn't speak until she pulled into Wyn's driveway and turned off the engine.

“When my babies were teething, I always found it sad and funny at the same time how they would always tug at their ears. The ears might have hurt, too, I don't know, but maybe they couldn't quite figure out exactly how to fix the pain they were in, so they reached out to the closest tangible object.”

“You're comparing me to a teething baby?”

“I'm saying you've got a lot on your plate. Someone tried to kill you, possibly a person who works for you. Your injuries have forced you to be in a dependent position, which you hate. And you're struggling to deal with the very real problem of how to reveal yourself to a son who doesn't know you exist. It's enough to make anyone cranky.”

“Whatever the reason, it's my behavior that matters and it's been lousy, especially to you. I am grateful for all you've done, even if I'm not doing a very good job of communicating that. I'm very sorry.”

The smile she gave him was much warmer. Somehow it left him feeling like he'd just been sucker punched.

“Apology accepted,” she said.

They gazed at each other for a moment. She was the first to look away and he didn't think he imagined the little rosy flush on her cheeks.

She couldn't possibly be attracted to him, too. It would make no sense, considering how he had consistently acted toward her.

“You're too forgiving,” he said. “You shouldn't tolerate anybody treating you poorly. You deserve better.”

“Good advice. I'll try to keep that in mind, the next time I'm blackmailed by a friend into watching over her injured brother.”

Despite everything, he couldn't help laughing at her tart tone, which earned him a surprised look.

“What's the matter?” he asked. “Do I have something in my teeth?”

“You should laugh more often.”

“I laugh,” he protested. “I just haven't found that many things funny lately—until you and your kids came along, anyway, and reminded me the world doesn't have to be so serious all the time.”

“Oh,” she exclaimed softly. “That is the nicest thing I've ever heard you say.”

“See? I'm not always the biggest ass in town.”

“Not always,” she murmured.

The moment seemed to stretch between them, soft and sweet as a summer afternoon. She smelled like summer, too, of wildflowers and sunbeams and a gentle breeze blowing through meadow grass.

In contrast to the winter landscape outside the vehicle windows, she was irresistible.

He gazed at her for just a moment and then he couldn't resist leaning forward and stealing a little taste. The instant just before their mouths met, he knew it was a colossal mistake, but he could no more have prevented himself from moving forward that last half inch than he could stop the ice floes on the Hell's Fury.

Her mouth was soft, sweet, delicious. She tasted of orange and cardamom from Ali's cookies, a taste he had a feeling he would forever associate with her.

For just an instant she froze, green eyes wide and startled, and then her lashes fluttered down and she gave herself up to the kiss.

CHAPTER TWELVE

F
OR
JUST
AN
instant when Marshall kissed her so unexpectedly, she panicked. Her last time in a man's arms had not been by choice and the memory of it slithered in, dark and ugly.

And then, suddenly, this man, this moment pushed it away.

The scent of him—soap and laundry soap and a unique mix of cedar and sage and
him
—mingled with the leather from the vehicle upholstery and the cinnamon-and-clove air freshener she'd hung after Thanksgiving. Just like that, she was back in the present, being kissed by the very sexy, very intriguing Marshall Bailey, the tough, stubborn sheriff of Lake Haven County.

She closed her eyes and let the sensations shiver through her, silvery and bright and wonderful. How could she possibly have forgotten the delicious magic of a slow, sensual kiss? The kick in her heart rate, the tingle in her fingertips, the delicious, sensuous churn of her blood.

Oh. She could do this all day.

Whoever would have guessed that the sometimes dour and taciturn sheriff could kiss so eloquently?

He kissed with the same seriousness he brought to everything else, focused only on tasting her, exploring her mouth. Andie savored it as myriad sensations consumed her.

She wanted to be closer to him and she instinctively moved to press her body to his but banged her hip into the console instead. A little startled gasp escaped her and he froze, his gaze catching hers. His eyes were beautiful, she thought idly, a vivid blue flecked with gold and rimmed by unfairly long eyelashes.

She saw a dazed arousal there, heavy-lidded and sensual, that made her insides thrum with need as if he had pressed his mouth to the curve of her breast. She leaned forward for more of those delicious kisses, but just before her mouth could slide against his, he growled an expletive that seemed to shock both of them.

“What?” she demanded.

Yes, it had been a while for her, but surely she hadn't completely forgotten how to kiss, had she?

He didn't answer, but he didn't have to. She suddenly recognized the subtle shift in his expression, the brief instant of pity followed by self-disgust, and she knew.

He suddenly remembered who she was, what had happened to her. It was as clear as a road sign on his features. This had nothing to do with the two of them. His reaction was based on what happened to her a year ago.

He was seeing her not as an attractive woman with needs and desires, but as a victim. The poor, pathetic widow who had been unable to fight off her late husband's partner and then had been too frightened and weak to report the attack.

Except for that first initial burst, she had been too busy enjoying every second of that kiss to be nervous. She had wanted only to close her eyes and enjoy all those delicious sensations.

She didn't quite understand how panic could flare through her
now
, when he wasn't even touching her.

Marshall swore again and raked a hand through his hair. “I'm sorry. That...shouldn't have happened.”

He was
sorry
. She was still soft and warm and gooey inside and he was
sorry
he had kissed her. Her throat suddenly felt ridiculously tight and she leaned farther back in her seat.

Oh, how she hated Rob Warren for ruining something else beautiful and right in her life.

“It's no big deal. You kissed me. I enjoyed it. End of story.”

For a moment, he looked uncertain, as if he wasn't quite sure how to reply to her casual response.

“I...should have been more considerate, under the circumstances. I don't know, maybe I should have given you a little warning or something. I wasn't thinking.”

“That's the second-nicest thing you've ever said to me,” she said with complete honesty. “A woman likes knowing a man loses his head a little around her.”

Too bad he had found it again so soon.

She didn't want to have some awkward conversation where he apologized again or asked if she needed to go into counseling or something, simply because of an unexpected but not at all unwelcome kiss.

“I should be going,” she said briskly, determined to change the subject. “Sadie is probably more than ready to go out again and the kids will be home soon.”

Trying to act casual and unaffected, she opened the door and climbed out. The December breeze off the river quickly cooled cheeks she feared were bright red. When she handed him his crutches from the backseat, he frowned, looking as if he wanted to say more, but she didn't give him the chance.

“If you'll wait here, I can carry the box of files and your laptop and then come back to spot you on your way in.”

As she might have expected, he didn't seem to favor that idea much. By the time she unlocked the door with her key, he had maneuvered his way out of the vehicle and was halfway up the sidewalk.

Stubborn man.

She set the box and computer inside, then returned to the porch to watch him move with his inherent grace. She didn't need to worry about him. He seemed to be much more comfortable on the crutches every day.

“I forgot the rest of your sandwich and your special cookies from Ali.”

Without waiting for him to answer, she returned to her vehicle, found the bag, then carried it into the house.

She found him in the kitchen filling a cup of water. The afternoon sunlight streamed in through the original stained glass transom on the kitchen window, creating a kaleidoscope on the polished wood floor with splotches of swirling, intense color.

He looked solemn again, no trace of a smile. His obvious regret at kissing her stung, but she decided she wouldn't let it bother her.

“Here you go,” she said, holding up the bag. “You've got half a sandwich left, which might be tasty for dinner.”

“Thanks,” he said.

She opened the refrigerator and found room for it. “Do you need anything else?” she asked, pointing to the refrigerator's well-stocked shelves. “I'll probably be running to the grocery store tonight or tomorrow. They're saying a big storm is coming early next week and I need to be sure I've got all I need for Christmas dinner.”

Though she could still read turmoil in his expression over their kiss, he apparently decided to let it go, much to her relief.

“If I think of anything, I'll let you know.”

“I'm keeping my fingers crossed the storm doesn't come early and interfere with the Lights on the Lake festival this weekend. My kids have been looking forward to it since we moved here.”

He nodded. “That's always a fun holiday tradition for people in both Haven Point and Shelter Springs—unless you're in law enforcement. Then you spend the whole time directing traffic and handling crowd control.”

“This year you can just sit on the sidelines and let your deputies and the Haven Point Police Department handle it.”

“Oh yeah. Won't that be fun?” he said, his tone dry. “In case you didn't know this about me, I'm not particularly good at sitting on the sidelines.”

She doubted anyone in town would be surprised by that. “You could always ask Mayor Kilpatrick to cancel this year.”

“Ha-ha.”

She mustered a smile in response. “I'm sure the celebration will survive without you. This year, you could possibly just try to enjoy it.”

“Maybe.”

He didn't look at all convinced, but she decided to let it drop. If he wanted to stay home and brood, that was his own business.

“I had better go. Do you need anything else before I take off?”

For a brief instant, something hot and intense flared in his eyes, stirring an immediate answering response in her. For one wild moment she let herself imagine how things could be between them. That kiss had given her only a sampling, but it had been addictive enough. Given the chance, she had no doubt Marshall would bring that serious intensity of his into the bedroom, coupled with scrupulous attention to detail and that underlying sweetness.

She really tried not to moan aloud.

“I think I'm good,” he said.

Oh, she had no doubt about that—but realized he was only answering her inquiry about doing anything else for him.

“Have a good afternoon and evening, then.” She was quite proud of her casual, unaffected tone. “I'll see you later.”

She turned to leave, but his outstretched hand stopped her.

“Andie, I have to tell you again that I'm sorry about what just happened.”

She caught her breath, wishing she had hurried out the door just a little faster to avoid this awkwardness.

“Fine. You said that. Can we just drop it now?”

“You need to know, I don't usually kiss women out of the blue like that. I should have been more...sensitive, under the circumstances.”

He had obviously been stewing about this since they left the car. She
didn't
want to talk about it, but short of rudely walking away, she didn't know how to avoid it.

“I hate to point out the obvious, but you have a broken leg. If I hadn't wanted you to kiss me, I could have walked out at any point and you wouldn't have been able to do much to stop me.”

“I'm bigger than you are. I could have overpowered you.”

“But you didn't. Nor would you.”

“How would you know that?” he asked, with obvious skepticism.

“I just do. Gut instinct. I wanted you to kiss me, Marshall. I'm glad you did. I enjoyed every moment of it.”

“Did you?” He looked a little taken aback but not entirely displeased.

She didn't want to have this conversation with him, but now that they had started, she decided to be completely honest.

“I will not let one terrible night out of my life dictate how I live the rest of it. I will
not
let something that happened to me against my will take control over my sensuality and my desire.”

As she spoke the words, she felt a tiny spark inside her, a little echo of the confidence and self-assurance that seemed to have been hibernating somewhere deep down.

“I wanted you to kiss me. I'm glad you did,” she repeated. “If circumstances were different between us, I might even want to do more than kiss you. When your injuries heal, anyway. You're a very attractive man, and what's more, I like you. I didn't expect to a few days ago, but you've kind of grown on me.”

He gave a surprised-sounding laugh. “That's blunt enough.”

“I just want to be clear you did nothing wrong in kissing me. I kissed you right back, remember?” She paused. “If anything, I'm grateful to you.”

“Grateful. That's a first.”

“Oh, I doubt that,” she murmured, suddenly certain he likely knew his way around the rest of a woman's body as well as he had demonstrated around her mouth.

That heat flared in his eyes again and she wondered how she had ever thought him cold and hard.

Her face flared with answering heat and she cleared her throat. “It's not in my plan anytime soon, but eventually I probably will start dating again—which means the whole kissing thing would be looming over me the entire time. Now it's out of the way, thanks to you, so I won't be so nervous the next time I kiss a man.”

For some reason, he didn't look at all thrilled about the idea of that. Before he could answer, though, the doorbell rang and a woman's voice called out.

“Marshall? Darling? Are you there? Do you know there's a strange car in your driveway?”

Andie's gaze slid to his. She recognized that voice—and judging by his expression, he did, as well.

“Speaking of dating again, it sounds like your mother is home from her honeymoon.”