“I really missed Gram tonight,” Shelby said when the quiet stretched between them. “It wasn’t the same without her.”
“I’m sorry. I know just how you feel. Everything in this house reminds me of my grandma. But it’s so quiet here without her.”
“The two of you were close. I remember her always having a crossword puzzle in her lap.”
Gray’s smile was nostalgic. “She loved those things.”
“And those red glasses always perched on her nose.”
“She couldn’t see a thing without them.”
Dorothy had been the only family who’d stuck by him, but she was gone. Who did he have in his corner now? It didn’t sound as if he was particularly close to anyone back in Riverbend Gap. He always had pushed people away.
Maybe they had something in common.
Their gazes connected across the space, which seemed to have closed somehow in the past hour. His thigh now touched hers. Their arms brushed. The moment lengthened as warmth crept into her limbs. As prickles flared beneath her skin. Want stirred low in her belly. Pushing him away was the last thing she wanted right now.
“I’m sorry I lied about having plans tonight.”
The low timbre of his voice transported her back to the old days. To the lonely boy he’d been. An outcast who put up barriers, always expecting rejection. Old habits died hard. In many ways Gray had grown and changed, but he was still that lonely boy who guarded his heart. An ache spread through her at the thought. “It’s okay.”
“Thank you for this.”
The food? The company? Both? “You’re welcome.”
The fire crackled and sizzled. A log shifted. And still they consumed each other with their eyes. He was so handsome in the firelight she couldn’t look away. The fire’s golden glow kissed his cheekbones and danced in his eyes. The scruff on his jaw gave him a roguish look.
What would his unshaven skin feel like against her palm? She reached for the answer. The soft flesh of her fingers tingled against the bristly landscape of his jawline. His familiar scent wove around her. She drank him in while a herd of wild horses trampled her chest.
Then she met his gaze again as awareness crackled between them.
“You have any idea how much I want to kiss you right now?”
She brushed her thumb along his jaw. “What’s stopping you?”
His blink was slow and tortured. “I’d like to think I’ve grown up a little in the years we’ve been apart. I don’t go around kissing unavailable women these days.”
The memory of their first kiss washed over her like a warm wave. Would it still be like that? She was desperate to find out. “That’s good... because I’m not unavailable anymore.”
A question flared in his eyes, quickly replaced by desire. As if needing no further explanation, he leaned close. His lips brushed hers as soft as a breath.
As charged as a live wire.
His fingers threaded into her hair, holding her steady.
But she wasn’t steady. Wasn’t anything close. Steady was overrated. It was just as it had been before. Just as it had always been. They were combustible, sparking and sizzling at a mere touch. A fire out of control. Molten lava.
He palmed her face. His hands slipped down to her shoulders, around her waist, pulling her close. They mapped out every inch of her back.
She remembered now. How had she forgotten what passion was? How had she let herself settle for such a poor imitation whenthiswas out there?
Because he broke your heart.
She tried to pluck the errant thought. But the pernicious weed was already growing roots. Strong ones that wouldn’t give way no matter how hard she tugged.
As if sensing her hesitation, Gray began retreating in degrees. His hands returned to her face, softening. The kiss slowed. An inch of space edged between them, then two.
Then his forehead was against hers, their ragged breaths mingling between them.
