Endless Heart: Heart, Book 3

by Emma Lang

  He’d never much thought about women’s hands before. They did what everyone’s hands did. Yet there was something about hers, an indefinable attraction he couldn’t ignore. Lettie did not have delicate hands, which was good because she was not a small woman. Her fingers were long but slender and strong. Her palm was wide but not overly so.

  The way she’d held him steady as he stepped into the bath, the way she washed his skin and especially the way she scrubbed his scalp sent a shiver down his body that had nothing to do with the temperature of the water or the room. Damned dick hardened even more.

  “That ought to give you some relief.” She put the scissors down with a small clink on the wood floor. “I’ve got to rinse.”

  He made a strangled sound, willing away the blood rushing through him as she touched him once more. The water, her fingers and the aroused state of his body all conspired together.

  “There, it’ll do for a haircut in a tub.” The bucket made a clang as she set it back down. “Stand up so I can wash your feet real quick.”

  Oh hell. He probably did not have the strength to stand without help, and his erection was currently waving at him in greeting. Two reasons why he could not possibly stand.

  “I think I need to sit here for a spell.” His voice sounded weak.

  “We also need to change the bandages on your hands. I’m not going to wait around with a naked man in a tub. Get up, Shane.” She put her arms beneath his and pulled him to his feet. The water splashed on the floor and, he was sure, on her since she hovered behind him.

  His cock, on the other hand, stood at attention like a good soldier. He gritted his teeth, waiting for her reaction.

  “Put your hand on my shoulder and lift up your left le—” She stopped in mid-sentence, her gaze glued to his staff. Her face flushed a soft shade of pink.

  A beat, then two, passed. She stared, he grew harder, the air grew thicker. Shane didn’t know whether to laugh or cry at the situation. Whatever he did, something needed to happen.

  He put his hand on her shoulder and lifted his leg so she could wash his foot.

  “I…uh… That is… Shit on a shingle. Why not.” To his surprise, Lettie washed his foot, then waited while he switched legs. She didn’t mention the dick nearly staring her in the face. The woman had grit, that was for damn sure.

  “I’m sorry.” His apology was heartfelt if not as well said as it could have been.

  “It ain’t the first time I’ve seen a man’s parts before. I was married once. He’s dead now.” Her voice was flat, devoid of any emotion. What kind of idiot jackass had she been married to? This was a woman any man would be proud to call his own. She was hard-working, handsome, smart and strong.

  “Me too. Married once, I mean.” Shane could hardly believe he’d confessed that to her, to anyone. “She died.”

  Oh how those two words summed up an ocean of pain and sorrow, of guilt and shame. How could there be a way to explain what happened? There couldn’t and there wouldn’t. That was as far as he would go to tell anyone the truth. The rest of it would fester inside him until he died, eaten alive by what he’d done.

  Her gaze flew to his, and she seemed to search his face for something. “My condolences on losing your wife.” She meant what she said. Her honesty never skipped a beat.

  “Thank you. It’s been almost seven years.” Why did he keep talking? Lettie was someone who brought out what he’d been keeping inside, whether or not he liked it. He had no idea what that meant either.

  “Maybe it’s time to move on.” Lettie walked behind him and placed a towel on his shoulders. “Now step out of the tub. Don’t worry, I’ve got you.”

  Her first comment cut like a knife, stealing his breath for a moment. She didn’t know him, had no idea why he hadn’t moved on. Lettie was like a confessor, not offering absolution but hard advice instead. He wanted to scream at her, tell her it was none of her business and that he couldn’t move on. Yet he didn’t. He had been the one who opened his mouth and told her about Vi, so why should she bear his wrath? Lettie had been blissfully ignorant of his widower status until he opened his mouth.

  Her amazing hands held his hips as he stepped from the tub. Emotions ricocheted through him, dark and raw. He couldn’t control or identify them. As soon as he got his balance, he spun around until he faced her.

  The moment stretched out, his heart’s thump-thump echoing through him. As he stared down at her brown eyes, she blinked, her expression a mixture of confusion and need.

  Slowly, ever so slowly, he shifted closer until he was an inch from her. Time stopped around them. He lowered his head until their lips met, the briefest touch, then once more, harder and more insistent. Her lips were soft but firm, moving slightly under his for a fraction of a second. She stepped back, her shaking fingers pressed against her mouth.

  “I need to get fresh bandages.” She almost ran from the room. The door rattled in the frame as she closed it with force but not quite slamming it.

  He stood there, breathing hard, dick pulsing, heart galloping. Shane wanted to do more than sneak a couple kisses. He needed to feel her from head to toe, to taste her skin, her breasts, her pussy. He wanted to fuck her until both of them found release.

  Shane wanted Lettie.

  The truth crashed into him as though he’d been kicked. It stole his breath. For the first time in his life, Shane wanted someone other than his late wife in his arms. Agony ripped through him full force, and he staggered to the bed. He’d forgotten what real pain felt like, one not dulled by whiskey. He had nothing to offer her, a stranger who had brought him back from the dead.

  There was no future for the two of them. She knew it. He knew it. Now if he could only forget the last fifteen minutes and slide back into the hole he had existed in two days ago. Of course that wasn’t going to happen. Fate had brought him here for a reason. He sure as hell hoped it wasn’t to die of a broken heart again.

  Chapter Three

  Lettie ran out of the restaurant, leaving a startled group staring after her. She knew the front of her was wet, and no doubt she looked like she’d seen a ghost. Truth was, she was scared senseless over what had happened, no, by how she’d felt when it happened.

  She liked kissing Shane. So much so that she wanted to do more.

  Lettie needed to understand what that meant. She had never enjoyed kissing or doing a man’s business with him. Hell, she would have been happy never to touch a man again.

  Then Shane Murphy fell into her life.

  His lips were soft and warm, perfect against hers. The moment had been pure magic. Every second of it was burned into her memory—the smell of his freshly scrubbed skin, the way his shorn hair felt beneath her fingers, the sight of his naked body, and most of all, the tingles that raced through her when he kissed her.

  She had no idea what to do. It wasn’t supposed to be like that. She didn’t need a man, much less one who was a worse mess than she was. Yet here she was, tied in a knot and running. She needed to talk to Angeline now for sure. The dream, the bath, the kiss, the naked man. It was too much to sort out.

  Her rapid pace got her to Angeline’s door in ten minutes, normally a fifteen-minute walk. By the time she knocked on the door, she was breathing harder than she should have, and her heart beat so fast it hurt. Even her knock was a staccato rhythm, sharp and fierce.

  It seemed like an hour before Angeline opened the door. She started to smile until she saw Lettie’s face. “What happened?”

  “I don’t know. I…um… Well…that is, he kissed me.”

  Angeline’s blue eyes widened. “Oh my.” She took hold of Lettie’s arm. “Get in here.”

  Lettie stumbled inside, Angeline closing the door behind her. They walked into the kitchen to find Sam at the table with a cup of coffee and a book. He watched them both as they approached, his expression guarded.

  “Lettie came by.” Angeline didn’t ask her husband to leave or explain why Lettie was there.

  Without sayi
ng a word, he picked up and quit the room, cup and book in hand. Another shining example of how connected the two of them were. They spoke to each other with just a glance. Lettie would have to be staked out beside an anthill and covered with honey before she would admit it, but she wanted what they had. Enough that she ached at night, alone, and aware she would be that way for the rest of her life.

  Angeline led her to the table and pointed at the chair her husband had vacated. “Sit.”

  While her friend fussed in the kitchen with the pot of coffee, Lettie sat down. She let out a breath slowly, her stomach flipping every which way. She didn’t know how to tell Angeline everything. Some of it was downright embarrassing and too personal. Yet she had to do something or spend her days hiding from Shane, or worse, leave Forestville altogether.

  Angeline set two steaming mugs on the pristine tabletop—a gift from Sam’s wealthy aunts. She took Lettie’s hand and squeezed it.

  Lettie took a sip of the hot brew, grateful for the bitter burn as it slid down her throat. Although she certainly wasn’t cold in the summer air, the coffee seemed to chase away a chill that had taken hold of her. She didn’t know how to start telling her friend about everything that had happened.

  “Coffee’s good.” An inane thing to say, but at least it was words.

  “Sam is very good at making coffee. He said he learned in the Army because he didn’t want to drink the sludge the other soldiers made.” Angeline chuckled, perhaps to break the tension.

  Lettie took another gulp of the steaming brew. “I had a dream last night.” She paused, her mind full of images from the very erotic meanderings of her subconscious.

  Angeline waited patiently, sipping at her coffee.

  “It, uh, well, it was about the stranger, Shane.”

  Her friend’s brow furrowed. “You’re using his first name?”

  Lettie waved her hand. “Let me tell this before I lose the nerve.”

  “I’m sorry. Please keep going. I promise I’ll stay quiet.” Angeline sat back, her expression open and listening.

  “It was the first time I had a dream like this. I’ve never, um, well you know that I never found pleasure in my marriage, with a man.” Lettie waited while Angeline acknowledged that with a small nod. “I didn’t think I could, like maybe that part of me was busted or didn’t work right. Then I had this dream.”

  Angeline appeared to be completely absorbed in what Lettie was telling her. The coffee sat on the table, forgotten. “And this stranger, Shane, was in the dream?” she prompted.

  Lettie closed her eyes and conjured up the image of him kissing her splayed legs. She shivered at the memory. “He pleasured me, in the dream that is. And more. I ain’t gonna say details ’cause that’s going to make it harder to tell.”

  While she masked it quickly, Angeline’s expression told Lettie she was disappointed to miss the details. Lettie wasn’t worried about that—her friend had a very happy marriage with a man who likely pleasured her daily.

  “When I woke up I was still feeling the dream, if you know what I mean. I was out of sorts and decided to ask Marta to move the man to the doc’s place.” Lettie paused to take another gulp of coffee, annoyed to see her hands shaking again. “She wouldn’t hear of it, of course. I got mad and marched up there to make him move. He was sleeping peaceful-like, and before I could tell him to get out, he opened his eyes.”

  Lettie set the cup on the table. “The memory from the dream was hanging on me like a coat, weighing me down. I couldn’t look at him without remembering what the dream Shane did to me, with me.”

  Angeline squeezed her hands. “I’m sorry, honey.”

  “I made this crazy decision and had Dennis bring up bath water for Shane.”

  Angeline whistled. “The hip tub?”

  “Yes, the hip tub.” Lettie hung her head. “I had to see if what I imagined was real or not.”

  There was another pause. “You are killing me with waiting, Lettie. You’d best tell me or I might expire on the spot.”

  Lettie could barely get a breath past the tightness in her throat. “When I saw him, I-I felt the same things all over again, from the dream. He was dirty as a pig in a wallow. But at the same time, he looked like he had in my imaginings.”

  He was more than that though. Shane was perfectly made, a bit skinny, but just right in so many ways. Lettie had never given anyone else a bath before, and she had let instinct guide her. His skin had been taut and smooth beneath her hands, and very warm. She never expected to enjoy touching another human being, much less a man. Yet the longer she washed him, the greater her need grew to keep touching him.

  “I must have made him feel good because when he stood up, well, his part was hard.” Lettie felt her cheeks heat. It was completely unlike her to let her emotions get all tangled up enough to blush.

  “He enjoyed your touch.”

  “I reckon so.” Lettie glanced down at her hands. “I ain’t delicate, that’s for sure.”

  “What else happened?” Angeline peered at her.

  “He kissed me,” she blurted, then shot to her feet, unable to look her friend in the face. Before marrying Josiah, she had never kissed a boy. No one in their ward had been attractive to her, and she didn’t have any boys knocking on the door to court her.

  The marriage bed had taught her nothing but discomfort and pain, humiliation and shame. She had no idea how to behave around a man who didn’t want to force her or use her. Shane evoked feelings that were confusing.

  “Did you kiss him back?” Angeline’s quiet question felt more like a pinch, startling and unexpected.

  Lettie gripped the windowsill and looked out at the lake beyond. It had been the idyllic spot to build a house, the place both Angeline and Sam loved. The sun’s reflection on the water was bright enough to make her eyes sting. She watched a heron glide down and land by the edge of the lake, then poke its beak into the water for some dinner. The entire scene promised peace, if only such a thing existed in her world.

  “Did you kiss him back?” Angeline repeated.

  Lettie pressed her forehead against the cool glass. “Yes.” It was barely a whisper of sound, a tiny acknowledgment of her sin.

  “It’s okay to be attracted to a man, Lettie. It’s normal.”

  Lettie swung around with a snarl in her heart. “I ain’t normal and it ain’t okay. I don’t want these feelings muddling around inside me anymore. Shane almost ruined everything.”

  Anger was good. Anger helped her overcome the feelings of panic and discomfort running rampant through her.

  Angeline frowned. “You are normal and it is okay. You’re a beautiful, intelligent woman who shouldn’t live her life in the shadows of a nightmare she had to live.” Tears filled her eyes. “I love you like a sister, Lettie. I can’t stand to see you put yourself down so much that you can’t have a beau.”

  “I don’t want a beau.” Her voice was thin again, dammit.

  “Life doesn’t ask permission. It happens.”

  “It needs to unhappen then.” Lettie crossed her arms and widened her stance. “I don’t want any more dreams, and I sure as hell don’t want to be kissing Shane Murphy.”

  Angeline continued to frown, her expression almost one of pity. Lettie put up with a lot, but pity wasn’t one of them.

  “I thought coming over here would help, but I don’t need you to feel sorry for me.” She turned to leave, ignoring her friend’s protests. It didn’t matter what anyone said, Lettie knew better. She wasn’t meant to be with anyone except herself. Life had happened already, and there wasn’t much else to be said about it. At least talking to Angeline had fired her up, given her something to hang on to besides confusion.

  What she needed to do was ignore Shane Murphy until he was gone, run herself into the ground until she was so exhausted she couldn’t dream, and then life would unhappen. She could go back to being who and what she was. No more confusion and no more kissing.

  Her mind made up, Lettie returned to the
Blue Plate. It was nearly dinnertime and she had to get to work.

  Angeline contemplated going after Lettie, try to get her to see reason. Yet she knew it was futile. Her friend was like a mule, stubborn and unmovable. Talking wasn’t her way at all, and her surprise visit proved things were definitely off kilter.

  Lettie had shunned all men since they left Utah more than a year ago. She was almost always angry, using her temper to keep the rest of the world away. Inside she had been damaged, physically and emotionally, by their husband Josiah Brown. He was an aberration against all men, not just men of the Latter-day Saints. Angeline harbored no ill will against the people she’d left behind. They had their beliefs and their ways.

  She had a new life, a new husband and a baby on the way. Things were about as perfect as they could be for her. It was Lettie’s turn to find that same happiness. It appeared to Angeline as though Shane Murphy was the right man for Lettie. Her friend had never taken to any man, much less kissed one.

  Angeline needed to help Lettie see what a gift she’d been given. When life offered such a precious opportunity, you had to snatch it with both hands. Lettie had her hands behind her back, so it was up to Angeline to get her to open her arms and take what was in front of her.

  Sam poked his adorable face around the corner. “What was that all about? I thought she might rip the door off the hinges.”

  Angeline smiled. “I think she’s falling in love.”

  Sam’s brows went nearly to his hairline. “You don’t say? Now that is a miracle.”

  “Oh you!” Angeline threw a biscuit at him. He caught it in midair with a grin. “You are going to help me.”

  He paused. “I am? What am I doing? You know I’ve got those chairs to finish for—”

  “Oh no you don’t. You are definitely going to help me find a way to get Lettie and Shane together.”