Snowbound

clumsy kiss.

Erin and Troy were the last two to go up. “Are you

coming, Ms. Mac?” Erin asked politely, pausing on the

first step.

She looked up as if surprised to realize she’d be left

alone. “Oh. No, I think I’ll read for a few more minutes.

Good night, Erin. Good night, Troy.”

Fiona waited for several minutes after they disappeared upstairs. Then she set down her book on the arm of the chair and went to the kitchen, where, as expected,

she found John.

He looked up. “Kids still hanging around?”

“No, they’ve all gone up.”

Very deliberately, he set a torn slip of paper in place

and closed his book. “Can I get you a cup of coffee?”

“No, I wouldn’t be able to sleep.” After a moment’s

hesitation, she chose the seat right across the long plank

table from him.

John nodded. They sat in silence for a moment.

Fiona was just gathering herself to say something—

God knew what would have come out of her mouth—

when he spoke.

“When I asked earlier if you were okay…” His turn

to hesitate. “I suppose what I was really asking was

whether I was out of line kissing you.”

“Do you mean,” she asked carefully, “did I want you

to kiss me?”

He dipped his head.

Fiona took a deep breath. They were being so civil,

two near-strangers compelled to discuss the uncomfortable. She hated it.

Lifting her chin, she said, “Yes. Yes, I wanted you to

kiss me. So you don’t have to feel guilty or…I don’t

know, whatever you were feeling.”

He stared at her, face very still. When he spoke, his

voice was hoarse. “Not guilty. Just…afraid I’d misread

you. I’ve wanted to kiss you from the minute you

walked in the door. But I didn’t mean to do it that way,

when I’d been a jackass and was upset.”

“It really is all right.” Suddenly it was. “I’ve wanted

you to kiss me since then, too.”

“Ah.”

“I was afraid I’d leave and you’d still be so stiff and

polite and I wouldn’t know—” She broke off. “Well,

what it was like.”

His eyebrows rose in that way he had. “You were

curious?”

“No, I was in suspense.”

His mouth twitched. “And now?”

“I’m hoping you plan to kiss me again,” she admitted frankly.

He gave a short, startled bark of laughter. “Yeah,

I’m planning.” His chair scraped on the floor as he

stood.

Fiona pushed hers back, too, and rose to meet him

when he circled the table.

He reached out and slid his fingers into her hair,

wrapping his hand around the back of her head. “In

suspense,” he murmured. “I’ve been in suspense all

evening, thinking you’d have whomped me if I hadn’t

opened the door and escorted you back inside.”

“Whomped you?” Fiona laughed up at him, even

though her knees felt weak. “You couldn’t tell I was

enthusiastic?”

Any amusement in his eyes vanished, leaving him

looking terribly vulnerable. “I thought…but I was

feeling so much… God.” He closed his eyes for a

second. “Quit talking, Fallon,” he ordered himself, and

bent his head.

Fiona gladly, thankfully, kissed him back.

CHAPTER NINE

KISSING FIONA gave him an adrenaline kick as powerful

as going into combat but without the accompanying

fear. Just holding her…that reminded John more of

those occasional moments when he stood on the front

porch watching the sun rise and rediscovering an inner

core of peace.

He lay in bed that night with exhilaration coursing

through his body and thinking, She heals me. He

wanted her until he ached with it, something he hadn’t

felt in so long he actually enjoyed the near-pain. She’d

reminded him how to smile, taught him to laugh again.

Even her students had been a gift of sorts; once upon

a time, John had liked kids. He’d volunteered as a coach

in a youth soccer league in Portland, before his ill-

fated attempt to connect with Iraqi youth in Fallujah in

the same way. Despite some uncomfortable moments