“And now he’s gone. And you still have a whole life ahead of you.”
“I know.”
She was watching a little black bug try to get over a wrinkle in the blanket. It would get almost to the top and then topple backward every time.
“So what if he was the only man I’ll ever love,” she said, expressing her thoughts as she had them. “Is it wrong, then, to not want to be alone? To seek solace someplace?”
Scott took a sip of water. His blue eyes were intimate, probing as they held her gaze. “I guess that depends on the situation. On the man. If you’re honest with him, if he’s not going to be hurt by the fact that you can’t love him, then no, I don’t think it’s wrong.”
Laurel’s heart lightened a little bit.
“As a matter of fact,” he added, “it’s probably very right. People are here to offer other people solace. It’s what we do. And as long as there’s complete honesty...”
Yes, but...
“What if I don’t know?” she whispered. “What if I think it could be love and then later find that it was just seeking solace? Then I’ve hurt him. And me, too.”
She couldn’t do it. She was going to be alone until she died. Or until, miraculously, she woke up one morning and found Paul nothing more than a fond memory.
“Life is full of risk, Laurel,” Scott said. “Sometimes you just have to jump off the cliff and hope for the best.”
“You really think so?”
“I do.”
Laurel liked that. She liked him.
Enough to have the feeling be a huge source of confusion.
Scott was like a brother to her. He was her lover’s brother. It had been that way for more than eighteen years.
Looking at him lying there, his body firm, strong—and so warm—she didn’t want Scott to be her brother anymore.
She wanted those long fingers to leave that damn cup alone and touch her, pull her close to him. She wanted those arms around her, holding her.
It had been so long. Since that day in the churchyard when she’d finally quit hitting him and had fallen against him in shock, ready to sink to the ground and die if he hadn’t wrapped his strong arms around her.
But today, she wanted more than support from Scott. More than comfort. She wanted passion. She wanted to taste those lips she’d known for more than half her life but never tasted.
She wanted him to taste her.
It was just her loneliness, the memories they shared and his resemblance to Paul that were making her feel this way. It was just that transference thing.
She knew that. Searching her heart, she knew with absolute doubt that she still loved Paul.
Lying here with Scott Hunter, she was not at the cliff. She could not jump.
CHAPTER NINE
HE WAS RUNNING out of time. Scott had been watching the sun getting lower and lower in the sky, promising himself he’d tell her soon. In another few minutes. And then a few more. He just wanted to enjoy her company for as long as he could.
He was sitting up, forearms resting on his knees, while Laurel lay on her side, her head propped up on her hand. She finally looked relaxed.
He’d forgotten how great it was just to talk to Laurel. Had forgotten those long hours of conversation they used to have, the insights she’d given him, and the eager way her mind had absorbed ideas that were new to her.
Paul and their dad had always been close, whereas Scott had argued with the old man a lot. To their father, Paul was the perfect son, but Scott couldn’t be like Paul, conservative, following such a narrow path. Scott had seen the world as a huge pool of opportunity, and needed to test all the waters. He’d known that without risk, there was no hope of greatness.
In high school, after Paul had left for college, Scott and his father had butted heads to the point where Scott had threatened to move out, and his dad hadn’t tried to get him to stay.