“That’s the point.” She worried the next sound she heard might be his breaking back. She was tall for a woman, and she liked chicken wings dipped in ranch dressing as much as the next gal. So even though Wolf was big and powerful, and even though he managed to make her feel dainty in his arms, shewasn’t. “I can walk on my own. Put me down,” she insisted.
“When I’m good and ready.” He smiled at her. It wasn’t even a full smile, but her heart double-timed its rhythm all the same.
Ugh. So cliché!
Miracle of miracles, he made it across her front porch without crushing his vertebral column. Then, as if she weighed no more than a sea star, he set her on her feet in front of her door.
She wanted to glower at him for being autocratic. She’d perfected glowering at him, if she did say so herself. But she couldn’t muster any antipathy at the moment because…well…he’d been so wonderful the past few hours.
On second thought, he wasalwayswonderful. Except for that night at Schooner Wharf Bar. That was the one and only time he’d been a complete and total asshat. Emphasis on theass.
“What happened with Frank?”Chrissy remembered asking her mother one bright Sunday morning over Bloody Marys at Blue Heaven, their favorite brunch spot not only because it served up good food and good booze, but also because its outdoor dining area was home to a good portion of the island’s wild chicken population.
It was great fun indulging in warm pancakes dripping in butter and syrup while watching their colorful feathered friends strut around the tables, looking for dropped morsels.
“I cut him loose when I caught him hitting on another woman,”Josephine had replied with a long-suffering sigh.“It was just the once. But if life has taught me two things, it’s that once is enough, and once is never once.”
Chrissy remembered that day all too well. It’d been the last time they’d been blissfully unaware of her mother’s illness. The next morning, her mother’s doctor had informed Josephine she had stage four colon cancer.
Once is enough, and once is never once.Chrissy silently repeated her mother’s words lest, when it came to Wolf, the last dozen hours made her forget her mother’s hard-learned lessons.
“Chrissy?” he asked.
“Mmm?” She blinked at him.
“Key?”
“Oh! Right.” She dug into the plastic bag and found her jeans. The sling made it a struggle to pull her keys from the pocket of the wet denim.
“Here.” He took the bag from her, his fingers briefly brushing against hers. That’s all it took to make her nipples furl.
Since her bra was wet and in the bag with the rest of her clothes, she was free boobing it, and the cotton scrubs weren’t very thick. Any other time, she would’ve crossed her arms to hide her body’s reaction, but the sling made that impossible too.
For a second, she thought Wolf noticed her rebellious yabos. A muscle in the side of his jaw ticked. Then, he fished out her house keys without saying anything. And out of the five keys on the ring, he somehow chose the correct one and had her front door open in a jiff.
I wonder if he’s this proficient in the bedroom?The thought ran through her head before she could stop it.
Probably, that traitorous little voice answered.
Once is enough, and once is never once!she shouted to drown out any other perfidious thoughts or treasonous voices.
“You know,” he said as she pulled her keys from the lock and stepped inside. “If I had a time machine, I’d go back to that night at Schooner Wharf Bar.”
That Night…
Not for the first time, she got the eerie feeling Wolf could read her mind. After placing her keys on the occasional table by the front door, she slowly turned to him.
Sunlight streamed in through the open door, casting him in silhouette. But his expression snapped into view when he closed the door behind him. The black of his eyes always seemed impenetrable, filled with mysteries. But right then they appeared fathomless, deeper than the ocean.
She preferred to pretend that night hadn’t happened. It was too humiliating to think about much lesstalkabout. So she was surprised to hear herself ask, “If you could go back, what would you do differently?”
“Everything.”
It was one word. But it was spoken with such vehemence the air between them grew thick and seemed to vibrate with an echo of the syllables.
Or maybe I’m imagining things. Maybe the change in atmosphere is due to the weather.
Another storm was gathering in the west. She’d noticed the buildup of cumulous clouds while standing in the hospital’s parking lot.
