by Lia London
“I’m pretty sure I am.” He reached his hands under her legs and hiked her upwards.
She yelped and squeezed him tighter. “You’re such a brat.”
“And you’re so brave. Your eyes are open this time. Come on. We’re almost there.”
At the next full platform, Maris slid her body down to stand behind him, still squeezing his waist. “I think I can go from here. The course looks easier now.” A zig-zagging path of planks stretched ahead, similar to one she’d seen in a youth camp years ago. She had to make sure he didn’t think of her as a baby. “I don’t know what was wrong with me. I’ve never been afraid of heights much before.”
“It’s okay,” he said, his thumb brushing her cheek. “You don’t have to—”
“No, I just think it was unstable. I like … things that are sure.” Maris rolled her eyes at herself. “Metaphor for my life.”
“How do I convince you that I won’t let you fall?” Crawford’s gaze held a delicious intensity, and Maris blinked happily.
“Stay really close.”
He grinned. “I like that answer.”
Still secured by a harness to a safety cable above, she let go of all but Crawford’s fingers and stepped out onto the first plank.
“Hey, good for you!” cheered Crawford. “Look Mom! Only one hand!”
“Yeah, I’m a regular acrobat.” She took a few more steps before glaring over her shoulder at him. “Don’t you dare do something to shake the ropes.”
“No way. I don’t want you to be a trapeze artist.” He eased himself closer with steady, confident moves. “You’ve got this.”
Maris relished the rush of warmth that came with his touch and continued forward. “Am I doing the feet right? Should I keep them straight, or like a duck?”
“Looking good,” he said absently.
“Crawford, are you watching my feet?”
A breathy laugh filled the hesitation. “Uh, you want the truth?”
“Oh, come on. Seriously?” She looked back at him with heavy eyelids, but his toothy grin made her laugh. “This harness cannot be doing anything good for my rear view.”
Crawford chortled. “It does kind of accentuate your—”
“Don’t say it!” warned Maris.
“Womanly wiggle?”
Despite herself, Maris snickered. Feeling lighter now that the terror had passed, she bent her knees enough to feel stable and made an exaggerated wag of her hips.
She didn’t have to see Crawford’s belly laugh to know he’d thrown his head back. Picturing his gorgeous smile, she squeezed his hand and tugged him to the end of the obstacle with renewed vigor.
When he pulled up onto the platform behind her, she forgot to move out of the way. With nowhere to put his free hand, he balanced on the edge by holding tightly to the cable above. For a moment, she admired the taut stretch of his jersey across his chest. Even the bulky harness couldn’t hide his muscles.
She sighed slowly, aware again of how close he stood. “Thanks again for not dropping me overboard when I flipped out.”
His hand smoothed her shoulder and cupped the back of her head. “No, no. You’re precious cargo.”
Maris pressed up onto her toes, ready for the kiss that surely came next. Smiling, she leaned in closer.
“Ooops. Don’t lose your balance now,” he said, steadying her gently and urging her deeper onto the platform. “I don’t want to lose you so close to the victory lap.”
Her disappointed lips frowned. “Victory lap?”
He bent closer. “The zipline.”
Maris feared she might wet herself. “Do you really think I could do it?”
“Have you ever done the little ones at playgrounds?”
“Uh-huh. I usually crash into the pole at the bottom when I accidentally let go.”
He steered her across a plank bridge to the zipline run. “This’ll be the same, only you won’t let go.”
“That and it’s way higher and way faster.”
“And you’ll crash into me instead of the pole,” offered Crawford.
“Bring it on!” Maris steeled her courage and watched with mounting excitement as an attendant strapped Crawford into the zipline apparatus and gave launching instructions.
“Meet you at the bottom.” After placing a soft kiss on her cheek. He kicked off.
As he flew down the ravine through the trees, Maris touched the place where his lips had left a scorching trace of longing on her skin. It thrilled her far more than the high-speed descent through the forest, and when she reached the bottom, she threw her arms around Crawford, planting a kiss on his cheek, too.
Chapter 7 ~ A Bump in Negotiations
“I’m crazy proud of you, Maris.”
“Thanks.” Her smile dazzled him as he keyed open the Tree House. “Too bad every part of me aches now.”
Crawford nodded, tossing the key onto the coffee table. “You probably tensed muscles you didn’t even know you had.” He helped her remove her jacket. “Need a backrub or anything?”
She bit her lip. “I’m not going to ask what the ‘or anything’ would be, but … are you willing? Just a quick number on my neck and shoulders would be great.”
“Of course.” He shed his own jacket, eager for the chance to touch her at last. “Where do you want to be?” he asked, drifting towards the bedroom.
“Oh, here is fine.” She planted herself crisscross applesauce on the ground in front of the futon. “You can sit behind me.”
He hesitated. “Okay.” How could he make this work? “Do you need to shed a layer, so I can actually get to the muscle?”
She pulled up her sweatshirt, revealing the tank top she wore underneath. With a shrug, he slid into place behind her, his knees on either side of her shoulders. “You don’t have any lotion, do you? My hands are pretty rough, especially after all that rope work.”
“Oh.” Maris twisted her body from side to side, peeking under the coffee table until she found her purse. “Will this work?” She handed back a tube of lavender hand cream.
“It’ll have to.” He popped it open. “Gee, I’ll smell so pretty.”
“Yes, won’t that be an improvement?”
“Wait, are you saying I stink again?”
He caught her mischievous grin. Shaking the lotion bottle to loosen its contents, he chuckled. “Oh, now you’re in trouble, little lady.”
Maris’ shoulders rose and fell with a happy sigh. He longed to place his lips all along the stretch from her shoulder to her ears, but he drew a deep breath and settled for rubbing in a layer of purple lotion instead.
“Whoa, that’s cold!” Maris jerked upright.
“I’ll warm it up soon enough,” he promised, his voice already working to raise the temperature.
As his hands slid over her skin, a force beyond any desire he’d ever experienced pulled him to her. He wanted to find a way to make every inch of her tremble with delight. Already he felt her quiver beneath his touch, and he pressed his thumbs deeper into her muscles, finding and releasing the knots.
She fell silent, and in the reflection on the glass door, he could see her eyes close, a soft smile playing on her lips. With practiced skill, he soothed the tension in her neck, and ran his fingers through her hair to massage her scalp.
Maris let out a soft moan of pleasure. “Oh my gosh, I should have been a cat. I love that feeling.”
Crawford smirked. She hadn’t seen anything yet. His hands glided down her spine and worked through the flesh of her shoulder blades, drawing his body lower, and his face next to her ear. He placed a soft kiss at the nape of her neck.
With a sharp intake of breath, Maris stiffened and leaned forward.
“Ticklish?” he asked, gliding his hands to her shoulders. The tightness had returned in an instant.
Maris hugged herself. “No, I … wasn’t expecting that.”
He worked his fingers through her hair again. “Do you mind?” he asked carefully.
“I … u
m.” Her voice shook, but not with the sound he had anticipated. She sounded afraid.
“What’s wrong?”
Maris drew her knees up, hugging them and burying her face in her arms. “You’re going to think I’m such a baby.”
“What do you mean?” His hands stopped moving, leaving only his fingertips resting where he’d kissed her.
“You must think I’m so …” She grunted.
Startled by the sudden mood swing, Crawford scrambled for a way to assure her. “I promise you, Maris, I don’t think anything but very good things about you.”
“Scaredy cat up a tree.”
“Hey, I’ve seen lots of people get scared in aerial parks. They’re for daredevils.” He gave her an awkward half hug from behind, wishing he could see her face. “And you did it.”
“Yeah, but I can’t do this.”
“Do what?”
With her head still down, she waved a finger between herself and him. “This.”
“Me?”
Maris exhaled loudly, dropping her legs flat so they stretched under the coffee table. She pressed fingertips to her eyelids. “Crawford, I’m so not for you. I mean, not that you…”
“I’m not following you, Maris.”
“I’m not ready to get … close.”
“Close?”
“Intimate. Sex.”
Crawford considered this, leaning back and raking his bangs to the side. This definitely put a wrench in his plans, and yet he couldn’t find a reason to walk away. Just being with her was more fun than he could remember having since the innocent childhood days before he knew about girls.
“Okay. We can go slow.”
She turned slightly, sitting in profile, and he noticed how small she looked. “I’m sorry, Crawford. I know you’re used to more.”
He leaned forward on his knees, close but not quite touching her. “It’s all right. I guess you told me this before. No playing around on the first date thing.”
Her eyes flickered in his direction, not quite landing on his face. He could see the strain. “Right,” she said. “Except, well … It’s not only a first date thing.”
Had he done something wrong? Did he stink? Was she seriously saying she didn’t want him at all? “Have I—?”
“It’s me, Crawford. Not you.”
“You don’t want me?” Crawford’s chest tightened.
Maris swiveled and looked at him with teary eyes. “It’s … You can’t think for a second that because I’m resisting means I don’t want you.”
He relaxed a fraction of an inch. “So …?
“But I’m waiting until it’s real. Lasting.” She faced away again, and her voice came in a strained whisper. “I’m a virgin, Crawford.”
Crawford’s brows darted upward.
“And I plan to stay that way until … you know … I get married.”
“Wow.” Crawford’s response was quiet.
Maris braced herself for the ridicule, willing the tears not to flow. What a little fool she’d been to act like a baby in front of him, to kiss his cheek, to lead him on when she was too stupid and naïve to satisfy him anyway. Not that her conscience could ever let her. Intimacy was a gift of self, not something to be passed around casually.
Cold inner conflict overtook her, and she shuddered. Her mother would be proud of her, and in her heart, she knew she deserved to be valued for more than her body, but with a man like Crawford, she couldn’t help wondering if a slip might be worth it.
His warm hands enveloped her shoulders softly, not venturing up, down, or around. She felt him shift behind her, and then his answer came like a welcome ray of sun.
“Sweet. It explains why you’re such an angel, Maris. It’s all right.”
Her heart skipped. “You’re not mad?”
His grip tightened slightly. “Disappointed. I’m not going to lie, Maris. You’re beyond beautiful. Of course, I want you. But I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. We can still have a totally awesome time together, right? We won this vacation when we bid at the auction. Let’s enjoy it while we can.”
Relieved tears sprang from her eyes. “Really? You won’t leave early?”
“Heck, no. I’m having a blast.” He lifted her hair, brushing it forward. “Now let me untie those worried knots you got. I’ll be good. I promise.”
With a sigh of joy, Maris settled back against the futon, resting her arms on his knees. His hands continued to work over her skin with a tender strength that soothed her whole being, not merely her neck and shoulders. “Thank you, Crawford. You sure know how to treat a lady.”
“I’m totally winging this. You’re the first true lady I’ve ever met, Maris.”
Maris swiveled and gazed up into his eyes. They held a different tint. Not the simmering sexiness of before, but a warmth that made her believe he might actually care for her.
“You don’t hate me?”
“I don’t hate you.” He chuckled. “How could I hate you?”
“You really won’t walk away?”
“I really won’t walk away.” He smoothed her furrowed brow with his thumb. “I’ll stay as close or as far as you want me to.”
Maris could feel her heart beating eagerly. Rising to her knees, she gingerly laced her fingers behind his neck. “I want you to kiss me—but just kiss me. Nothing more.”
The softest smile played across his lips, all bravado and flirtatiousness gone. Their eyes danced for a moment, and he drew near enough that she could almost taste his breath. When his mouth closed gently on hers, a tease, a savoring, and then the most sublime kiss she’d ever known, her heart soared into the crisp autumn sky. She’s said nothing more than a kiss, but with that kiss, Crawford gave her ecstasy more than she’d ever imagined possible.
As Maris stepped into the bathroom to take a shower, Crawford marveled at how her kiss had blown him away with its sweet urgency. It communicated something rich and complex, compelling, and so beautiful it stopped his heart.
Still in a happy daze, he strolled into the bedroom to check his messages while he waited for her. Unplugging the phone from its charger, he scrolled through the texts from friends. He’d received only one voicemail, but he didn’t recognize the number. Thinking it might be a modeling gig contacting him directly, he tapped the replay button and put the phone to his ear.
“Crawford, this is Amanda. Long time no see! Gads, you’re hard to get in touch with. I had to coerce your number from Bran. We really need to get together soon, lover. I’ve got something you will totally want. Call me back, and we’ll set up a time for me to blow your mind.”
Crawford stared at his phone. Amanda? Amanda Who?
“Oh!” He remembered in a flash, and his ears burned at the mental image of their last encounter. Yes, Amanda had all the moves. It had been almost a year since they’d gone out, but apparently, she hadn’t forgotten him. He smirked.
Replying with a text, he typed, Out of town on business. Will call you this weekend when I get back. Nice to hear from you.
Almost immediately, the phone buzzed, and Amanda sent a photo of herself from the chest up. Her scant, lacy negligee left little to the imagination, and drew the eyes away from her pinched face and sultry pout.
Crawford stared. Had she gotten implants? He let out a low whistle. Before he could think of a response, a text came in. More fun when you come. CU soon, Crawdaddy!
He licked his lips, still tingling from Maris’ kiss. Nothing Amanda had could hold the same magic.
Whatever. He’d worry about it after Skamania. He silenced the phone before stuffing it in his overnight bag and made a mental note to chew out Bran for giving out his new phone number to old flames.
Rattled by the blast from his past, he walked back out to cool off on the balcony. As he passed the bathroom door, he heard the water shut off.
“Crawford?” Maris’ voice came tentatively through the door.
“Yes?”
“Can you come in here a minute?”
Had she changed her mind about intimacy? “Seriously?”
“Hurry.” Her voice was a throaty whisper.
Crawford put his hand on the handle, drew a deep breath, and opened the door.
Clad in the Skamania Lodge complimentary terrycloth bathrobe, Maris beckoned to Crawford with a gesture to be quiet. “Come here.”
“In the shower?”
She glanced at him with a finger to her lips, then pointed. One entire wall of the shower stall was a window to the outside, overlooking a broad, grassy clearing that faded into the forest further down the hill. Crawford stepped in behind her, acutely aware of her state of undress, even though the robe covered more than her tennis attire.
Rubbing another circle on the steamy window pane, she pulled him closer and peeked outside. “Look.”
Crawford squinted through the droplets, and his eyes widened. “Sweet!”
A young buck, doe, and older fawn grazed below them.
“Aren’t they beautiful?” she whispered.
“You know they can’t hear us, right?” he asked, studying the damp tendrils framing her face. Even without an ounce of make-up and sopping wet, Maris took his brain away. He ached to kiss every exposed part of her, and then peel back the robe and go for more, but he resisted. Instead, he placed his trembling hands on her fuzzy shoulders and rested his ear against hers as they stood in silence, watching the graceful family of deer saunter across the green.
The steam and Maris’ closeness sent waves of heat through him until perspiration tickled the back of his neck, but he couldn’t tear himself away. There was a bliss in this moment—a simple, lovely connection that expanded his soul. He breathed it in, grateful Maris had not settled for his usual pastime. Nothing could have compared to this new kind of intimacy, one that linked his heart ever more to this lovely woman.
Chapter 8 ~ Hints of a Merger
“You take the bed tonight, Maris,” Crawford insisted. “It’s super comfy.”
Maris eyed the plush queen-sized bed with longing and then glanced at him in his hoodie and plaid pajama bottoms. “But … you’ll be miserable. You’re so much taller than I am.”