“You gave me a start too,” he said.
“Sorry, I was just…” Milly pointed to the tin and the lemonade. “I wasn’t snooping, I promise. I thought you all might like…” she stopped when she realized Wes was holding his right hand. “Are you OK?”
“I trapped it in the door,” he said.
“I’m so sorry,” Milly said, feeling terrible. “I thought you were an intruder.”
“It’ll be fine,” he said, running it under cold water.
“I’ll get you some ice.”
“No, really, it’s all right,” he said, drying it off with a dish towel. “What did you bring us?”
“Oh”—she felt so foolish now—“just some baked Chex mix that I made earlier.”
“Chex mix?” he said, opening the tin and popping some into his mouth. “It’s good,” he said, offering the tin toward her. She took a few pieces, though it was the last thing she wanted now.
Wes poured them both a lemonade, handed a glass to her, and took a drink of his.
“I really am sorry about your hand,” she said. “I feel so silly. I planned to leave it on the stoop, but then I thought there might be bugs.…”
“Milly,” he said, stopping her. He placed his glass down and unwrapped his hand, turned it over, and wiggled his fingers. “See? You shouldn’t apologize for being kind and thoughtful.”
“Wes,” she said, shaking her head.
“No, really,” he went on. “I’ve never met him, so I don’t know what’s going on, obviously, but I get the sense you aren’t appreciated, that you’ve been taken for granted. And I hate to think of that. You’re generous and considerate.”
It had been so long since anyone had said anything so nice to her. She knew she should go, but she let it soak in for just a moment.
“Thank you,” she whispered. “That’s kind of you to say.”
“And you’re beautiful,” he said, his eyes landing on hers, almost daring her to look away.
A moment passed between them, as if he had something else to say, and she didn’t want to leave without hearing it. In the silence, she could hear him breathe. He took the glass from her, placed it on the counter, then took her hand and pulled her ever so slightly toward him. Tiny waves rippled all over her skin. She should step back, she knew that, but she was so surprised, shocked by him—what was he doing?—and by her body’s reaction to his touch. He placed his hand on her cheek, and she lowered her eyes, her stomach flipping, every inch of her body on high alert. He lifted her chin with his fingers until her eyes reached his—they looked darker in the dim light of the cottage—and they searched hers as if asking permission. No man had ever looked at her like this, ever, and it mesmerized her. Slowly, incredibly slowly, he inched toward her, and when she closed her eyes she felt his lips on hers, warm and soft. She felt herself melt, every part of her suddenly awakened and filled with desire. His lips stayed on hers for a second, maybe two. His fingers moved to the base of her neck and into her hair. She felt the warm rush of desire flood her and she wanted to give in to it. And then, reluctantly, so very reluctantly, she placed her hands on his chest, feeling the rise and fall of his breath, the outline of his muscles under his shirt, and pushed him away, hard.
Then she slapped him across the face.
With his face turned to the ground, he put his hand to his cheek and looked up at her for a second, then away, hurt or ashamed, she couldn’t tell.
“I’m sorry,” he said in a low whisper.
“How dare you?” she said.
“I’m really sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”
“I am a married woman,” she said, her voice sounding unfamiliar and sharp. “And you are a student, in college. My God.”
“I’m in medical school, actually,” he said quietly, still looking down.
“What?” she said, trying to calculate how old that would make him, but she was so flustered that her brain wasn’t cooperating, and her hand was stinging from the slap. “It doesn’t matter,” she said, horrified at what she had let unfold between them.
He shook his head. “You’re right. I’m very sorry. It won’t happen again.”
“You’re damn right it won’t,” she snapped, studying him, unsure if there was something else she should add to ensure that he understood her outrage, but her mind was spinning and she couldn’t think straight. She walked toward the door, opened it, and turned back to him.
“You will not mention this to any of your friends, or anyone at all, do you understand?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said.
