by Kim Law
She brought her eyes back to Nick’s. “I once told you that he had no siblings, but that’s not quite true. He had an older brother who died. Thomas idolized him as a kid. Harry died when Thomas was ten, and Thomas decided on the spot to spend the rest of his life honoring his brother. Harry had wanted to go into the army, so Thomas went for him. Harry had never seen a challenge that he wouldn’t take, so you couldn’t have made Thomas back down.”
“What killed him?”
She swept a hand out in front of her. “This place. He was in the area with a buddy for a birthday trip. He’d just turned sixteen, and his parents had let the two of them stay at the lake house for the week. They’d gone to Huckleberry Canyon but got trapped in a thunderstorm. He broke a leg trying to get to shelter. Clear through the skin. So his buddy went for help. Search and rescue was called out, but by the time they found him, Harry had apparently tried to move again. Possibly he’d been dazed due to his pain. They found him seventy feet below a nearby ledge.” She recalled Thomas’s pain as he’d told her the story. “His body had been so broken. I don’t think any of them ever recovered from his death.”
“I can imagine. The elements here can be brutal.”
“When Thomas first told me about it, I remembered hearing about the accident. I’d been ten at the time, too. And I’d wanted more than anything to go out and help find that missing boy. I was certain I could locate him if only Mom and Dad would let me go.”
Nick’s fingers danced lightly along the skin of her arm. “You used to do similar things a lot, didn’t you? Rescue animals, raise money for needy people. All kinds of causes you led the charge for, if I’m remembering correctly.”
“I always had a mission.”
Until lately. These days, she merely flew her helicopter when she felt like it. And pretty much sat in her house the rest of the time.
“Anyway,” she continued, pushing that thought away to reexamine later, “after his brother’s death, his parents sold their vacation home and refused to come back.”
“Thomas falling for you . . . that had to be tough.”
“For them,” she said. “Thomas had actually always intended to come back; they just didn’t know it. Thomas tried to change his parents’ minds about this place. About me. But they wouldn’t listen. Threatened to disown him. But he had a trust fund from his great-grandfather. His parents couldn’t keep him from it. And to rub salt in their wounds, when Harry died, his trust transferred to Thomas, too. The day Thomas got access, he bought the helicopter. We came home and started volunteering in the Flathead Valley Search and Rescue program right after.”
She saw the surprise on Nick’s face. “He was a pilot, too?”
“No, he was a flight medic. But we made a good team. Of course, we had paying jobs, as well. I had my flight business, and he’d gotten hired locally as a paramedic until he could get on full time with the SAR program. We refused to simply live off his trust. That’s not who either of us was.” Her voice grew melancholy. “I’d had interest in SAR most of my life. It’s why I wanted to fly in the army. Then I met Thomas and learned about his brother, and our dreams became one. It seemed like what we were meant to be, you know? Fate,” she finished on a whisper.
She pressed her check into Nick’s palm as he brushed a piece of her hair behind her ear. “Are you still involved with search and rescue?”
“No.” She squeezed up her shoulders in a tight shrug. “I can’t. Not without him.”
And that made her feel hollow inside.
Nick put his arms around her and held her tight, and as she sat there in the comfort of his lap, she became grateful for two things. That he’d pushed her to talk about Thomas. And that he’d been here when she’d needed him. She’d had no idea that simply talking would help ease her grief.
Not that it was gone.
But for the first time since Thomas had died, she could feel the good of what they’d once been. Her anger sat behind her memories now. Instead of front and center.
She tilted her mouth up and touched the warm skin on the underside of Nick’s chin, and when his caring eyes peered down at her, she said, “Make love to me.”
He didn’t immediately respond. Just studied her as if trying to determine her reasoning.
“You make me feel,” she explained. “More things than anger and pain. That’s what I need. That’s why I invited you into my room that first night. No one has done that for me since Thomas.”
He stroked his hand over her hair. “You’re okay? We can keep talking.”
“I don’t want to talk anymore.”
There might be more to the story, but not more she was willing to share.
She stared at Nick. Waiting. She needed him to understand. She’d given him all she could. When he finally nodded, she wanted to wrap her arms around him and never let go.
“Then that’s what we’ll do,” he said. He kissed her. His lips gently touching hers. Clinging. But he kept it PG. And when he lifted his head, she could see such tenderness in his eyes. “You’re sure?” he asked.
“I am.”
So he kissed her again, and this time didn’t pull away nearly as fast. One hand slid along her outer thigh, and she felt like a cat, readying to stretch in the sun. “Where to?” he muttered against her lips. “It’s private back here. No one would see us. Or we could go inside.”
Out here?
She pulled back and looked around. The idea had merit. And it turned her on. She caught Nick’s chin with her fingers, then rubbed the pad of her thumb over the length of his bottom lip. He was a good man.
“Out here,” she said. A shiver shook her when he sucked the tip of her thumb into his mouth. “It’s a beautiful day,” she continued. “And I want to live right in the middle of it.”
He nodded in agreement and stood with her in his arms. He moved them both to the matching sectional and stretched her out before him, but when she reached for the top button of her shirt, he stopped her.
“Let me.” His words were low and heavy, and he sat beside her and moved her hands to her sides. “Let me take care of everything.”
His motions were slow, but Harper felt every one of them to her core. He cupped her face in both of his hands and took his time making love to her mouth. Then he kissed her eyelids and grazed his lips across her temple and to her ear.
He pressed soft nibbles along the shell of her ear as his fingers inched down the front of her shirt and slipped the buttons free one by one. After sliding the last free, he leaned back and slowly spread the material wide. She wore a tiny pale-green lace bra that closed in the front, and at that moment, she couldn’t have been happier with her selection.
Nick seemed pretty pleased with it himself, as his thumb scraped along the dip in the center of her stomach and slipped under the bra’s hook. His gaze found hers, and her lips parted on a breath. His slow and gentle moves were more than she was used to with him, but she found it was exactly what she wanted. The clasp slipped free, and she sucked in a breath as he parted that material, as well. The cooler afternoon air brushed over her, but Nick didn’t look down at her body. Not yet. He kept his attention focused on her face.
He kissed her again, taking his time once more, while his hands stroked over her. He touched her in a way she might have guessed him incapable of before she’d gotten to know him, and though his careful, easy moves had her more than ready to progress to the next step, she also found herself with the desire to go even slower. Nick seemed to want that, too, as after he tugged the remainder of her clothing from her body, he shed his own and carefully eased down beside her. No condom appeared, and he moved as if they had all night.
He continued doing exactly as she’d asked. Making love to her. And her eyes grew hot with surprising pressure. So hot that she thought her long-awaited tears were about to make an appearance. But she didn’t cry. Not with Nick. She simply soaked in every touch and heartfelt move he made.
And when he finally pulled a condom from his wallet,
there were still no hurried movements. He kissed her while he rolled it on, and when he stretched his body over hers, he lifted her arms above her head. He slid his rougher palms down the length of her, from her hands to the sides of her hips. And only then did he finally lift her gently and position himself between her legs.
And when he pushed in, fitting to her so perfectly, it seemed in that second as if he’d been made for that very spot.
Chapter Sixteen
A cool breeze brushed over them later that evening, and Nick found himself lifting the blue strands of Harper’s hair and running the chunks, one by one, through his fingers. The two of them were tucked under a blanket he’d brought out earlier, and they’d just made love again.
“Your hair was the first thing that attracted you to me,” he told her. “I’d never seen a girl with pink hair before.”
She lay draped on top of him, and her lazy smile implied his revelation was no surprise.
“I take it you’ve heard that from guys before?”
The corners of her lips inched higher. “Boys think girls with funky hair are funky in other ways, too. They were always bummed to learn that my hair was more about my rebellion over frilly dresses and being made to look like my younger sisters than an announcement of my wanton ways.”
“I’m sure you broke many hearts with that news.”
“Maybe. But I rarely cared. I had more important things to worry about.”
“Like saving puppies and feeding the hungry?” At her nod, he asked, “That why Thomas was your first?” He’d wondered how she’d gotten out of high school a virgin. “Because you were always too busy with a cause?”
She lay perfectly still on top of him. “Thomas was my first because I loved him.”
Her sincere words proved to Nick yet again than she was far more than met the eye. And he was lucky to have the honor of being her second. He slid his palm up her spine, enjoying the silk of her skin and reveling in the fact that he could roll her over and go yet again. He couldn’t get enough of this woman.
Her fingers trailed down his bare arm. Across the lake, the sun began to set.
“This afternoon,” Harper began, her words as soft as the moment. “It was different between you and me.”
This, from was the woman who, until today, hadn’t let him hold her unless he’d been inside her. He was surprised she’d acknowledged it. He slid his palm back down her body, not stopping until he reached the top curve of her rear.
“Are you okay with that?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” she admitted. She lifted her head and looked at him. “It’s scary.”
“It doesn’t have to be,” he told her. But he wasn’t so sure that was true. Today had been a lot more than sex, and it scared the crap out of him, too. “It was just a new thing for us.”
Harper watched him as if waiting for him to change his mind, but he kept his fears to himself. He’d never done more than sex before. He had no idea what this afternoon meant, if anything, and honestly, he didn’t want to think about the implications.
Finally, she settled her cheek back to his chest, and her breaths danced through his chest hair. He closed his eyes and let his senses enjoy the moment. He could feel her soft breasts just above his waistband, the remaining heat between her thighs, and her toes wiggling along the tops of his feet. It was a moment he suspected would stay with him forever.
“This is a gorgeous view,” she said.
He didn’t open his eyes. “Yes, it is.” He let both hands reach to the underside of her rear, and he cupped her in his fingers. “And I’m eventually going to come home to it.”
Once again, revelations he hadn’t intended to share came out, but this time he didn’t care. He did intend to return to Birch Bay, and saying the words out loud made it feel more real.
Harper didn’t respond to his statement, as if understanding that he didn’t really want to talk about it, and they both grew quiet. His breaths deepened as the night edged toward black, and he told himself they should move inside. If not, he’d be asleep within minutes, and as comfortable as he currently was, he didn’t think either of them would appreciate the accommodations after spending a night out on the deck.
“I was brutal to my family afterward.” Harper’s tone matched the quietness of the night, but her words immediately woke Nick back up. He opened his eyes. She was talking about after the accident.
“How so?”
“I tried to run everyone off.”
He felt her body tense.
“They came over every day the first week. After that I wouldn’t let them in the house, and I only answered the phone so they’d stay away. But a few weeks into it, I got angry. I yelled at anyone who called. I tried hard to shove them away.”
Nick soothed her with his hands, not knowing how else to help. He sensed her need to get more out, so he remained silent.
“After a week of that, my mom showed up and wouldn’t leave. I ignored her, but when she made a bed on my porch, I couldn’t stand it. So I let her in. She stayed four nights before I would talk to her.” A puff of air tickled his chest with her soft laugh. “I love my mother, but I was so angry with her for being there. Then a report of a missing hiker came on the news, and I just started talking. I didn’t seem to have control of my words. I yelled about how unfair life could be, and I spewed hate. But it was cathartic. I didn’t provide details of the accident, but I showed her what I felt.” She lifted her head and shot him a smirk. “And then I made her leave and I redecorated the house, turning the entire first floor white.”
His eyed went wide. “White?”
“Everything,” she stressed. “It’s ghastly. I don’t know why white. I had all this stupid money that I didn’t want, and I was in a giant house all alone. We’d decorated those rooms together, Thomas and I. And everything we’d picked out suddenly made me furious every time I saw it. So I turned it all white.”
He touched a knuckle to her chin. “You’re a strong woman, Harper Stone.”
“Yeah. But I might be borderline nuts.”
He grinned. “Probably. “
A gorgeous smile was his reward before she rested her hands on his chest, and propped her chin on top of them. “Now it’s your turn,” she announced.
“My turn to what?”
“To tell me your secrets.”
Her quick change caught him off guard. “Maybe I just have one secret,” he hedged. He assumed she wanted to know about his mother.
“Save the denial, cowboy. You’re not the only one who can read people. You’re a good man, a charming one, and you have lots of happy groupies.”
He looked down his nose at her. “You are so jealous of my groupies.”
She grinned wide. “I might be. But that’s not the point.”
“And what is the point?”
“You are. You have a charmed life. Or on the outside, you seem to. Yet you long for a home you could have returned to years ago, something holds you back from taking your career to the next level”—she gave him a tender smile—“and you hurt because of your mother.”
Her ability to read him so well moved him. And he found that he liked that she’d been able to do that.
“So tell me about your mother.”
He grunted. “Now?”
“Seems the time for it, doesn’t it? No one is around to interrupt us. Plus”—she touched one fingertip to his lips—“I shared mine.”
He kissed her finger. “You did share yours.” And because she had, he figured he owed her one. But it was more than the payment that made him willing to talk. He wanted to share his past with Harper.
The realization made him think of that first night he’d run into her at the rodeo. He’d just walked away from Betsy and had been wondering if he were missing a key ingredient to being “normal.” To being able to react in a “typical” fashion toward the woman he was sleeping with. Yet with Harper, it wasn’t a question at all. He wouldn’t even let himself entertain the idea of Harper hav
ing sex with anyone else—at least not while he was having sex with her—and he found himself wanting to tell her his secrets. He’d never had the desire for anything more than a physical experience with any other woman in his life. The knowledge was both worrisome and comforting. He held on to the comfort and ignored the worry.
“Okay,” he finally said, returning to the here and now. He would give her what she asked.
But before uttering another word, the large windows that made up the back of the house captured his attention. He couldn’t see through the dark panes at the moment, but he could easily picture his mother standing just on the other side. She’d been beautiful. Always. Polished in clothes and appearance, with never a single dark hair out of place.
Yet appearances could be misleading. Just as their rustic home had deceivingly implied warmth and love, on the inside, his mother had been as cold as ice.
He turned back to Harper. “My mother had issues,” he blurted out.
She nodded as if in understanding. “What kind of issues?”
“The kind you want to run away from.” He closed his eyes and began his story. He couldn’t talk about his mother with Harper directly in his face.
“Everyone in town thought we were a perfect family,” he explained. “Parents in love, thriving family business, six happy kids. But the reality was, none of that was true.” Even the business had been a struggle a lot of the time. “Our lives might have looked pretty from the outside, but they were rough at home. And that was all because of her.”
He waited for Harper to comment, but when she didn’t, he opened his eyes and stared at the stars coming out above them.
“I was ten when she died, and at that point, I had no idea that anything was wrong with her. I just knew that she didn’t love me. And the thing was, not only did she not love me, but she made it a point to tell me that she loved my brothers more.”
A soft inhalation hit his ears, and Harper cupped his cheek in her hand. “How cruel,” she whispered. Her words were harsh. “You deserved better than that.”