Ashley dismissed her questions. There was no point asking them. Whatever the answers, she wouldn’t pull herself away. Not so much because she couldn’t, but because she didn’t want to.
“Let me go!” She pulled one hand free and poked her finger into his side. His muscles tightened in response. “So . . . I’m not the only ticklish one!”
“No.” In one move he trapped her hands again, this time behind her back. “But you’re the only one being tickled.”
He had the most wonderful laugh. The sound of it did mysterious things to her heart. Ashley was breathing hard, her body shaking. The battle was wild and exhilarating, but she needed a break. She let her body go limp. “Okay, I give up.” She laughed again. “Truce.”
Landon still had her hands pinned, but now he gently let go of them. As he did, she lost her balance and sat back on the knee of his good leg. Suddenly awkward, Ashley started to move off him.
But Landon put his arms around her waist and linked his fingers. His eyes were bright, but Ashley couldn’t tell if he was teasing her or drawing out the moment. He tightened his grip on her and grinned. “Can I trust you?”
“Landon!” Ashley was still breathing hard. She turned partway, still balanced on his knee but ready to spring off the moment he released her. She tried to act serious, but it was impossible. She was enjoying herself too much. “Let me go!”
The teasing in Landon’s face dissolved, and slowly he loosened his arms from around her. Their eyes found each other, and everything about the moment changed. Gone was the teasing, the tickling, the battling for position. Instead a quiet came between them, a quiet charged with emotions neither of them was ready to talk about.
After an eternity, Landon looked straight to her soul and spoke in a voice Ashley could barely hear. “I let go.”
“I know.” There was a pull between them, a pull that couldn’t have been stronger if she were magnet and he were steel. Slowly, imperceptibly, Ashley shifted so they were face-to-face again. Their eyes met, and Ashley’s heart began to speak before her head could interfere. “Hold me again, Landon. Please.”
“Ashley . . .” It was more of a question than anything. But her name sounded like silk on his lips. They were poised at a line they hadn’t crossed since they were kids. If they crossed it now, everything would change.
“Hold me.” Her voice was barely a whisper. She slipped her arms around his neck and let her forehead fall against his. Her eyes closed as finally his arms came around her once more.
Her heartbeat was strong, steady against his chest. She felt his sweet breath on her face, breathed in the musky smell of his day-old cologne. He eased his hands up along the small of her back and let go again. Before Ashley could wonder what he was doing, she felt his fingers against her cheeks, her jaw. “Ashley, look at me.”
She blinked her eyes and pulled back far enough to look into his eyes. In them she could see his heart—a heart deeper than she’d ever wanted to explore. She traced a single finger across his forehead and down along his lower lip. “Landon . . .”
In a way neither of them could have stopped, they came together. Their kiss made time stand still, made Ashley question every belief she’d ever held, every presumption she’d ever made about the tender man before her. Ashley pulled back first, her lips open. This was not some lighthearted game that had gotten out of hand. It was something entirely different—something she had wanted since that night in the hospital.
“I love you, Ashley.” He kissed a feathery trail along her brow and down her temple toward her ear. “No matter how hard I try, I can’t stop loving you.”
Common sense had something to say, but Ashley refused to listen. She brushed the tip of her nose against his. “I’ve wanted to kiss you since . . . since I saw you in the hospital, unconscious.” She rested her hands on his shoulders. “When you told me you were moving, I didn’t know if I’d ever get the chance.”
She slipped off his knee and snuggled up beside him, angling herself so his face was just above hers. “Did you ever feel that way? I mean, who’d have thought we’d have this chance—”
“Shhh.” He brought his finger to her lips. Ashley would remember the look on his face forever, no matter where life took the two of them after this. Part desire, part contentment, as though he’d never felt this right in all his life. As though he never would again. “You talk a lot for a girl who keeps her distance.”
Ashley felt the beginning of a smile, and she bit her lip. Before she could say another word, Landon cradled his arm around her neck and drew her close. This time their kiss was longer, more intense. The feelings coursing through Ashley were so new they took her breath away.
Paris was one thing, but this . . . this was something Ashley had never felt before in her life.
Was it love, the kind of love Landon had always wanted her to feel for him? They paused, and then their lips came together again, saying things neither of them was ready to voice.
It was Landon who pulled away first.
He nuzzled his face against hers, holding her close, letting her feel his heartbeat against her chest. “Tell me, Ashley.”
“Hmmm.” She brought her lips to his cheek, felt the day’s growth of beard tickle her face. “Tell you what?”
“About Paris.”
A splash of cold water couldn’t have wrenched her more quickly from the magic of the moment. She sat back a foot and looked at him, puzzled. “What about it?”
His expression was unchanged. The reckless emotion that had been there seconds earlier still played across his features. He ran a finger lightly along her jaw. When it was clear to him that her answer wouldn’t come easily, he leaned back and took her hand in his. “When you left for Paris, you were young and beautiful.” He gave a sideways nod of his head. “Somewhat wild, somewhat rebellious. Determined to see life through the jaded lenses of your own imagination. But with a heart as transparent as the air between us.”
Ashley listened, reminding herself to breathe. The jaded lenses of her own imagination? When did Landon Blake become a poet? And what did he know about Paris? Her heart skipped a beat and settled into an unfamiliar rhythm.
She waited for him to continue.
“When you came back, you were every bit as wild and rebellious.” A sad smile simmered on the corners of his mouth. Again he looked straight into her soul. “Every bit as beautiful. But something terribly wrong had happened, something that showed in your eyes. It was there every time we met after that.”
Ashley shook her head. No, he had no right to talk about this. Not now, not when they were finding something they’d never shared before. Landon would never find out about Paris. He couldn’t. And certainly he didn’t already know; that was impossible. “I . . . I don’t know what you mean.”
“Yes, you do.” He gave her shoulders a gentle squeeze, his eyes never leaving hers. “Someone captured your heart in Paris, but whoever it was locked it up and put it in a cell, a dungeon of darkness.” His words were slow and quiet, soaked in kindness. “A dungeon with walls so high and thick that even now you’d rather let your heart stay there than find the painful way of escape.”
Ashley’s head was spinning. How could he know this? How could he have spent so little time with her these past four years and still know the exact condition of her heart? She opened her mouth, but nothing came out. Instead, tears filled her eyes, and she shook her head, unable to talk.
Landon leaned down and kissed her forehead. “Don’t cry, Ash.” He dusted his thumb beneath one of her eyes and caught her tear as it fell. “You don’t have to tell me.”
Two quick sobs came from her throat and she sniffed, shaking her head in short bursts. “I . . . I can’t, Landon.” She lowered her face so that only her eyes were raised in his direction. “I can’t.”
Landon brought his lips first to one of her eyes, then the other. “I love you, Ashley. Do you know that?”
She nodded, swallowing another series of sobs.
H
e inhaled long and slow. “I’m moving away, and you’ll get on with your life. You don’t want a relationship; you’ve made that clear. But whether or not this is the last time we’re together . . .” He kissed her again. “Together like this, that is . . . I want you to know something.” Another kiss. “Nothing—nothing you could have done in Paris would change the way I feel about you. Not ever.”
A dam that had held secure for years broke, and tears cascaded down her cheeks. “I’m . . . I’m such an idiot.”
“Hey, come on now.” He caught another of her tears with his finger. “Don’t say that.”
She sniffed. “I am, though.” He still had his arm around her shoulders, still held tight to her hand. “Why couldn’t I just fall in love with you after high school like any normal girl?” She twisted her face, desperate for an answer. “I should never have gone to Paris.”
“I don’t know exactly what happened there.” Landon’s tone was softer than before, his gaze more direct. “But I know you came home with Cole. And because of that”—he hesitated, too choked up to finish until he had control again—“because of that, I believe God worked things out for the good, Ashley. Whatever happened.”
She closed her eyes again. Not only did Landon love her in ways that defied reason; he also loved her son. So why couldn’t she return that love, beg him not to move away, promise to stay by his side forever?
The reason was so close it terrified her.
He only thought he could understand about Paris. Once he knew the truth, he would never see her the same way, couldn’t possibly cherish her the way he did now. He’d never again look at her the way he’d looked at her tonight—not if he knew about Paris.
“You can tell me, Ashley.” The resolve in his eyes was unyielding. “Whatever it is, it’ll only make me love you more.” He leaned in and kissed her for a long while before pulling back again.
“Why . . . why would you love me more?” As hard as she tried, she would never understand him, never be clear on why a man who looked and acted like Landon Blake would waste his time on someone so difficult.
He wove his fingers between hers. “For trusting me enough to tell me.”
There was nothing she could say, no promises she could make. She believed Landon, but the idea of telling him about Paris was as impossible as moving a mountain with her bare hands.
When she was quiet, he turned his attention to the television. “Maybe we should watch that movie, huh?” He pulled her closer. “It’s getting late.”
They watched a comedy, something that allowed Ashley to enjoy Landon’s nearness without having to dwell on the conversation they didn’t have—the one about her past. When the movie was over, Landon struggled to his feet and helped her up as well. “It’s after midnight.”
She yawned, desperate to hide her disappointment. How could she leave when all she wanted was to kiss him again? She stretched, releasing his hand for the first time in hours.
Reality barged in, leaving the door open and allowing the winds of uncertainty to cool the closeness between them. The night was over, and Ashley doubted there’d ever be another like it. After all, they were going their separate ways. In all likelihood, this strangely marvelous night would be the last time they’d be together this way—kissing, touching, admitting feelings they normally hid so well.
He walked her across the living room. When they reached the door, he leaned his crutches against the wall and took her in his arms. Their lips met again, and the passion that had been there earlier ignited in an instant. When Landon pulled back, Ashley felt flames of desire hotter than anything she’d ever known. She knew he was feeling the same way because he was shaking. They both were.
“I’ll never forget this.” Landon grabbed a quick breath and exhaled hard. “Not ever.”
“Me either.”
As Ashley made her way out to the car, Landon called after her one more time. “Hey, Ash.”
Fresh tears welled in her eyes, and she turned around, hoping he couldn’t see them. “Yeah?”
“You have the most beautiful hair! Has anyone ever told you that?”
She drove away laughing, wanting nothing more than to turn around and go to him again. Stay through the night, through the weekend. Forever. But that wasn’t the kind of love Landon would want. He would hold out for the real deal—marriage, family, a lifelong commitment.
Ashley drew a deep breath and held it. She could think of a million reasons why it wouldn’t work. She wondered whether Landon could see through the cracks in her armor to the place where her heart was in turmoil. Because it was. As she drove across Bloomington, the tears streaming down her face underlined the fact.
Despite her conviction to remain aloof and lighthearted with her friend Landon Blake, she’d spent the evening kissing him. He was deep and wonderful and charming and connected to her soul like no other man. Certainly he could see that her feelings for him were changing—that she was finally falling for him.
But she couldn’t let that happen—not when she knew he would stop loving her the moment he knew the truth about her past. Ashley gripped the steering wheel. Maybe she should tell him anyway. Then he could move to New York with a clear conscience, knowing there could never have been anything lasting between them.
The tears came harder as she pictured herself voicing the words, telling a story she’d never told to anyone, let alone to the only man who’d ever truly loved her. She pictured his face, imagined what he would say. He would be kind, of course, listen patiently, hold her when she cried. Say all the right things. But in the end he would know that she could never be the kind of wife he wanted and deserved. Not ever. And when that was clear in his mind, he would move away and never look back.
The image tore at Ashley’s heart and made her breath catch in her throat. There was only one thing more frightening than the idea of falling for Landon, and that was this:
The thought of watching him walk away once he knew the truth.
Chapter Fourteen
Work was the antidote.
Ashley’s feelings were far too jumbled to unravel in a day or two, so when Monday came, she merely wadded them up, stuffed them into the back pocket of her heart, and set about doing the work she’d come to love: making life more bearable for Irvel and her friends.
The women were at their places around the table having lunch when the doorbell rang.
Irvel’s face lit up. “I wonder if it’s Hank!”
Ashley headed for the door as Helen called after her, “Whoever it is, don’t forget to do the check. We don’t need more spies around the place.”
“Yes, Helen,” Ashley called back over her shoulder. “I’ll do the check.” A smile lifted the corners of Ashley’s mouth as she opened the door.
A woman stood on the porch, clutching her purse with both hands. She looked to be in her late fifties. When she saw Ashley, she hesitated, the lines and furrows in her face deepening. “Hello. You must be new.”
“Yes.” Ashley was curious. “And you are . . . ?”
“I’m Sue Brown. Helen Wells’s daughter.”
Helen had a daughter? No one had mentioned it. “I’m sorry.” Ashley stepped aside and opened the front door. “Come in.”
When the door was closed behind them, the woman let her eyes fall to the floor. “I’m afraid I . . . I don’t come very often.” She glanced up, and Ashley saw pain in her eyes. “Mama doesn’t remember me.”
The revelation hit Ashley like a blow to the gut. This poor woman was Helen’s daughter, but Helen no longer remembered her. How horrible would that feel? Ashley thought of her own mother, healthy and vibrantly alive. Would there come a time when their eyes would meet without the spark of love and recognition?
Ashley refused to dwell on the possibility. “No one told me about you.”
The woman shrugged. She looked barely able to stand under the weight of dread. “As I said, I don’t come often.”
“I’m sorry.” Ashley led the way back toward the din
ing room.
Sue stayed close behind her. “It’s okay. It’s been this way for years.”
The moment they rounded the corner, Helen looked up and spotted her daughter. “She’s back!” Helen motioned at Sue and then shot a look toward Irvel. “She’s a spy too.”
Ashley was horrified. No wonder Sue didn’t come very often. “Helen.” Ashley made her way around the table and placed a gentle hand on the woman’s shoulder. “She’s not a spy. This is your daughter, Sue. Remember her?”
“No.” Helen’s eyes grew wide and she shook her head, slowly at first and then with greater speed. She stared at Ashley. “Is that what she told you?”
Sue entered the room quietly and took a chair. Clearly she didn’t want to make a scene. “It’s okay, Mama.” Sue’s voice was calm, defeated. “I’ve been checked.”
“What?” Helen looked appalled. “I am not your mother. My daughter is . . . is someone else. I haven’t seen her in years.” Helen waved her hand toward Sue. “What did you do with her? You’re a spy! You kidnapped my daughter!”
Edith closed her eyes and began rocking. Next to her, for the first time since Ashley started working at Sunset Hills, Irvel had nothing to say. She merely watched the exchange, her eyes wide and confused.
“Helen . . .” Ashley was desperate to help Sue. “You’re almost finished eating. Let’s go into the other room and visit.”
Helen brought her fist down hard against the table. “Not if you haven’t checked her.” She motioned toward Sue again. “That woman stole my daughter!”
“That woman is your daughter, Helen.” Ashley worked to keep her tone even.
Helen hesitated, a scowl planted low across her brow. “No, she isn’t!”
“She is, Helen. Really.”
Helen hesitated for a long time, her frown finally fading some. “Fine.”
Ashley helped Helen into the other room while Sue followed silently behind. When they were situated, Ashley cast Sue a helpless look. “Is there anything I can do?”
Remember Page 11