Unacceptable.
He half stood and leaned across the table, cupping the back of her neck. The glide of her hair along his fingers almost made his knees fold. He angled his mouth over hers to stop the flow of words cutting him out of her life.
She felt familiar and still so much more than he could have remembered. He knew just how their mouths fit together, the scent of her, cinnamon. The taste of blueberries on her lips. Tracing the seam of her mouth until finally, finally, she opened for him with a sigh of encouragement he could never forget.
Her hands fell to his chest, her fingers twisting in his shirt as she deepened the contact, taking it to a new level. Not two teenagers, but meeting as adults, as a man and a woman. And his body was reacting 100 percent like a red-blooded man’s.
He went so hard, so fast, his hands shook with restraint. After all day sitting in the truck with her, catching the scent of her with every gust of air his way, he hurt all the way to his teeth from having her so close and not being able to touch her.
Now, here she was, kissing him, and as much as he wanted more he was so damn scared that if he pushed her, he would lose this much.
She inched back, her green eyes wide with… horror.
Shit.
He dropped into his chair, hope deflating as fast as his erection.
Misty scooped up her toiletries from the foot of the bed and scampered across the room and out the door as if she couldn’t get away fast enough. The door clicked closed behind her, her footsteps growing fainter as she raced down the stairs to the shared bathroom on the second floor.
Then it hit him. She had kissed him back. And while that might have freaked her out, she hadn’t slapped him. She hadn’t told him to leave. She’d left, as if maybe she was every bit as off balance as he was.
He’d meant what he said about wanting to stay with her, to help her through everything ahead of her. No way in hell could he just walk away from her once they reached the mainland. He was making progress, but he’d almost wrecked that by pushing too hard, too fast, with the kiss. He needed to take a step back.
He had a chance with Misty, an honest-to-God second chance, and he refused to screw this one up. Even if it meant sleeping on the crappy futon.
***
Sitting cross-legged in the middle of the bed, wrapped in the quilt, Sunny nibbled the edge of the oatmeal rhubarb bar. Today, she’d learned that amazing sex gave her the munchies. And since they’d had sex twice in the past hour—once against the door and again in bed—she was seriously craving snacks.
Even an oatmeal rhubarb bar. Not her favorite dessert by a long shot, but it would have to do. Right now she would give about anything for some of her mom’s cobbler, but that probably had more to do with thinking about being home again than the actual food in front of her. Except it could never be home again for any of them.
As long as everyone was safe, she could deal with whatever else happened.
Wade knelt in front of the fireplace, their only source of heat right now since the local power plant seemed to be on be the fritz. Lights had flickered off and on for the past hour and she cringed to think what many in this area—so dependent on the power plant—would do if there was a long-term, major outage. The hotel had a backup generator, but Wade had said he figured he should stoke up the fire, just in case.
Light from the flickering logs played off the hard planes of his naked back. He had three tiny tattoos walking down his shoulder, green footprints, of all things. There had to be a story there, and she’d been meaning to ask him since she first saw them. Somehow life kept interfering in the craziest ways. She wondered if she would get the chance to ask before his learning about her family put a huge freaking wall between them.
He dusted his hands clean, a hefty sigh stretching his shoulders even broader. Pushing off on his knees, he stood, tugged on his pants, then faced her. Those stitches on his shoulder reminded her of all they’d been through together, how much they still faced. He’d insisted on changing the dressing himself—citing his medic training again. She’d tried not to feel rejected. It was such a silly thing to want to tend him, but he was clearly all hands-off.
His somber expression sent a skitter of apprehension down her bare spine.
She set aside the cookie bar with the others on the complimentary plate of snacks and tugged the quilt tighter around her. “What’s wrong?”
“Time to talk about your brother.”
Her stomach sank. She could see in his eyes that he already knew the truth.
So much for her big decision to come clean about Phoenix deserting.
As she looked at the cool anger in his face she realized what had been “off” about him in the plane. He must have just found out. He’d said he spoke with one of his teammates right before boarding the plane. Realization crept in.
He hadn’t come on the flight to be with her. He’d joined her because he knew about her brother and there could only be one reason for him to follow her up the mountain. He wanted to see her brother jailed.
She sat motionless. Feeling so damn gullible. For once she didn’t have a clue what to do. Stay put so he couldn’t find her brother? Except then who would warn the community?
She had completely and surely boxed herself into a corner. “How did you find out?”
He dropped into a rocking chair beside the bed and it didn’t escape her notice that he didn’t choose the bed.