“Too rough?” he asked, nuzzling her hair. “I missed you, Gen. Sorry if I hurt you.”
“You didn’t.” Shocked as she’d been, her body had been ready for him. Probably had been since she’d first laid eyes on him with that beard.
“Liar.” He sat her up and removed the rest of her clothes, kissing as he went. He kissed her ankles when he removed her pants the rest of the way, her stomach as he took off her sweater, her breasts when he unhooked her bra, her arms, shoulders, moving up to her neck where he lingered.
He placed kisses along the column of her neck, and she shivered.
“Is that better?” he asked.
“Hmmm.” It was so much better she’d forgotten how to breathe. But she still sensed something else emanating off him in waves. And lingering in his eyes. Regret? “You’ve been thinking too much.”
Bingo. The quiet gaze said yes, ma’am. “We’ll talk about that later.”
“But—”
He silenced her with a deep kiss, and pushed her arms up over her head, threading his fingers through hers. She forgot everything except the way he made her feel.
And this time it felt a lot more like making love.
* * *
A while later, Gen lay between Wallace’s legs and in front of the roaring fire, her head on his chest, their arms entwined.
“I’m sure the sauce is ready now,” she said. “I should get up and boil the pasta.”
Wallace kissed her forehead. “You do that. I have to get more wood anyway.”
Neither one of them moved.
“I really am going to get up now.”
“Uh-huh,” Wallace said.
She found the strength to pull herself out of his arms somehow, and put on his white undershirt. It came down to her thighs. She tiptoed into the kitchen, and found a pan to boil the pasta.
Wallace eventually rose and put on his jeans, but kept his shirt off (thank you, God) when he went downstairs and came back up with more wood. Within a few minutes they were both back in front of the fireplace eating her spaghetti straight out of the pan. Much more romantic this way.
“Was it good?” She asked later, as side by side they cleaned up in the kitchen.
“You know it was.”
“A woman likes to hear it,” she said with a shrug. Would it kill him to talk more?
He studied her again. “It was delicious.”
She couldn’t shake the feeling that he wanted to say more, and she waited. Nothing. “And?”
“And you’re a great cook.” He turned to her and tucked a stray hair behind her ear.
“And?” she pressed.
“And let’s go to bed.” He grinned, his tousled hair falling a little over his right eye.
“Yes.” She liked that idea. Her womb nearly exploded in agreement.
The snow had continued falling into the evening, turning the outdoors into a winter wonderland.
He killed the fire, then took her hand and led her into his bedroom. Definitely a man’s room, filled with every shade of brown and the smell of leather. This was Wallace’s bedroom, the place where he laid his head every night while at the cabin, and dreamt of— what? She didn’t know. Did he ever dream of her?
There were landscape portraits on every wall of snowy mountain scenes and cabins.
He caught her staring. “Local art.”
“Pretty.” She joined him by the bed, where he was turning down the covers.
“Not as pretty as you.” With a sly grin, he pushed her back on the bed and followed her down, catching her.
“I’ve got you,” he said and rolled with her.
“You always have.”
“You’re so beautiful, Gen.” There was so much tenderness in those words that she allowed her heart to swell. No, he hadn’t said the words out loud but they were in his eyes. He loved her. She could feel it.
“You are,” she said, tracing a finger along the hard planes of his scruffy jawline.
He kissed her hard, stopping only to swiftly yank off the shirt she wore. It seemed that her bones would dissolve one by one as his lips and his tongue went down her body, kissing and licking. Down the column of her neck to her breasts, her stomach and even lower. Teasing, playing, and driving her to the brink.
“Wallace, please—” she begged, needing him inside her. Yesterday. “Now.”
“Wait.” He pushed her thighs open and lowered his head.
He didn’t stop until she was one quivering mess, shuddering and calling out his name. Then he finally wrenched off his jeans, put on a condom and was inside of her. Where he belonged.
* * *
The next morning Gen woke up splayed on top of Wallace. She wasn’t sure how he could sleep that way, but he did appear to be down for the count. Completely understandable considering the way she’d worked him out last night. The digital clock displayed the hour: six AM.
She was accustomed to getting up even earlier because of the bakery, and now she rolled out of bed determined to make him the single best breakfast of his entire life. She rummaged through her suitcase and dressed in her jeans and sweater. Though it sounded romantic to be naked all weekend, the air had a chill to it this morning.
This meal would give new meaning to breakfast of champions. He certainly deserved it. She’d make her famous raspberry crepes, bacon, eggs, and potatoes. She had everything she would need, and made her way to the kitchen to start the coffee.
Taking a moment to savor the morning, she gazed out the full length window of the cabin. Her boyfriend certainly knew how to build a house. He was a man of many talents, to be sure. The snow had stopped at some point, leaving the pine tree branches bowing with big handfuls of snow. The winter scene was so perfect she almost didn’t see the dog until a minute or two of scanning the horizon. It was white and easily blended into the scene.
But the dog sat, shivering, out in the middle of all that newly fallen snow.
“You poor thing.” Gen grabbed her coat and boots and went out the door. She’d get the animal to safety before it froze to death.
Walking carefully down the steps of freshly powdered snow, she made her way to the dog. “Come here, puppy. I won’t hurt you.”
The dog didn’t move, but continued to stare at her with incredibly blue eyes. Was he already frozen in place? Gen took careful steps forward in order not to spook him, but he neither moved nor came an inch closer. He only continued to stare at her, and cocked his head. She had to move carefully and slowly because each one of her steps sunk her down about a foot and reached up to her knees. And then one more step and she sunk to her hips. Crap. Obviously the land was not level around here, something she should have realized before. The dog must have had found higher ground because he continued to sit and watch.
“Let’s get you out of the cold,” she said to the dog and took another difficult step forward. She sunk to her waist. “What the—?”
That’s when the dog finally moved and came up to her, licking her nose.
“So I guess you’re okay? How about giving me a hand, then?” Gen asked.
The dog didn’t answer, but trotted off in another direction. He sunk a little each time, but had no trouble bouncing back up. “Wait! Don’t go! What kind of thanks is that?”
The dog kept moving.
“Help me, Lassie!” She wiggled, but it was no use. Gen was stuck. That’s when the snow started to come down in big floppy flakes.
Great. She was going to freeze to death out here while the man she loved slept only feet away, oblivious. And when he found her, frozen, he’d probably thaw her out just so he could kill her for being so stupid.
“Wallace!” Gen shouted. Well, this was embarrassing but better that he find her now than later. They’d both have a good laugh about it. “Wallace!”
He might not be able to hear her. The snow kept falling, harder now, the wind whipping through the trees. These temperatures gave new meaning to freezing. She’d never complain about the cold in Napa again, so help her
God. Forty-five degrees was probably balmy around these parts.
The snowflakes were falling on her hair and face and because at least her arms were free she tried to brush them away. More kept coming, and her fingers got pink. Not a good sign. She had only planned to be out here for a minute or two to save the dog so she hadn’t brought her gloves. Or a cap. So smart. Oh, Wallace would kill her good. She tucked her hands under her armpits and tried to shield them.
Eventually she got tired of calling Wallace’s name and got a little bit sleepy. Someone would find her here, probably. Someday. She only had to be patient. Maybe if she just closed her eyes for a minute, when she opened them again someone would be here.
“Gen!”
She heard a shout and opened one eye. Wallace, finally. Thank God. She didn’t know how long she had been asleep, but no matter, he was here now. Also, he didn’t look even a tiny bit mad. He kind of looked petrified, all the color drained from his face as he yanked on her body and pulled. It was of little use, and she wasn’t going anywhere. He came back with a shovel and worked around her for a few minutes, then pulled her out.
After that she wasn’t aware of much other than being carried into the house, and laid on the floor beside the bathtub. “Don’t move!” Wallace said.
“Sure.” She heard the water running and was vaguely aware of her clothes being stripped off. He lifted her into the tub of warm water. Submerged, she felt warmth all the way into her heart.
“What were you doing out there?” Wallace asked.
“There was a dog, and—” she lost her train of thought. What had happened to the dog? Had she saved him? Was the dog a mirage?
“Don’t talk,” he ordered. “You almost froze to death out there.”
“I’m sorry,” she said.
“Don’t be sorry,” Wallace said, on his knees next to the tub.
“All right, I’m not sorry.” She was warming up now, her brain starting to defrost.
“Just never do that again. Ever.”
“You got it.” She studied him outside the tub, his brow wrinkled. He even made worried look sexy. “Get in with me. Warm me up.”
He stripped off his clothes and got in the tub, and she felt him gather her between his legs. “I thought I told you not to talk.”
She leaned back against him, her head in the crook of his shoulder, and closed her eyes. “Oops.”
He proceeded to wash her gently, a washrag gliding down her arms, her breasts, and down to her stomach.
“I’m sorry, babe,” he whispered near her ear, nuzzling. “You scared the shit out of me. I can’t lose you.”
Those few words filled her. Take out the ‘can’t’ and replace the ‘s’ for a ‘v’ and they’d be in business. But even if Wallace hadn’t said it even once, he’d shown her in several ways that he loved her. Maybe that should be enough. The words could come later.
Sure, he wasn’t always the Wallace she’d thought he would be. He was too quiet at times, didn’t cry out, ‘Darling, I love you too!’ like in her fantasy, but she still saw inside his real heart. It was the same heart she’d loved for half her life, and it owned hers. There was little she could do about that now, even if she wanted to.
He stepped out of the tub, then took her hand and helped her out. He dried her off, wrapped her in a towel and carried her to the couch. Somewhere in all that action he must have put some sweatpants on and a long sleeved gray Sliders shirt. He started another roaring fire.
It dawned on Gen that he’d just saved her life. “My hero.”
“Stop,” he said.
Typical hero.
“Are you okay? Feeling normal again? You don’t look blue anymore.” Wallace turned to her and replaced the towel with a heavy blanket.
Well, he was talking more than he had in a while. That had to be good. “I feel so much better.”
He threw pillows on the floor in front of the fireplace, picked her up off the couch and drew her into his arms. “Ready to tell me what the hell you were doing out there?”
“Oh, I can talk now?”
He nuzzled her neck. “Yeah, smartass. Don’t try to pretend you were listening to me.”
She told him about the dog, and they calculated she’d been in the snow for about thirty minutes when Wallace found her. Funny, it had seemed so much longer.
He inspected her feet and legs, probably looking for signs of hypothermia. “A white dog? My neighbor’s dog, a Siberian Husky. This is probably a tropical climate for him.”
“Well, he looked cold. And lost.”
“Do you realize how close you could have come to dying? Dammit, Gen.” He pressed her tightly into his chest. “I woke up and couldn’t find you anywhere. What if I’d slept a little later?”
She couldn’t answer that question, because it scared her too. For the first time she shivered, not from the cold but from fear. What if she’d lost her future with Wallace? Never been able to have his babies? Tragic, because those babies would be gorgeous. All six or seven of them, or however many she could manage to squirt out.
For the rest of the day Wallace wouldn’t let her do much but stay in front of the fire. Her plans for breakfast died a slow death as she wasn’t allowed to do anything. His cooking wasn’t half bad, though nothing fancy. But when he fed her canned chili for dinner she tried not to grimace. Really? Canned food? Why should she be punished after almost dying?
They watched TV on Wallace’s big screen, arguing over action versus romantic comedy.
“You almost froze, so I’ll let you have this one,” he said and didn’t roll his eyes too much during Letters to Juliet.
Much later, she lay on the couch cuddled in his arms thinking maybe she really had died and gone to heaven, when he spoke.
“Gen, do you think maybe we made a mistake?”
Her heart stuttered. “A mistake?”
“Rushing into this. Us.”
Let’s see. A decade of longing and loving from afar. Rushing? “No. I didn’t rush into anything. Did you?”
He didn’t need to answer because the delay in his reply said everything for him. “I don’t want to lose you. Ever.”
“You won’t.” He lay behind her on the couch, and she couldn’t see his face which might have been for the best.
He put his chin in the crook of her shoulder. “You say that now, but what if we don’t work? What if we marry and later divorce? You’ll wind up hating me. I can’t have that.”
“If you’re worried about Joe—”
There was a hint of anger in his tone. “No, I’m not worried about Joe. I can’t lose you. Your friendship. We have a decade between us, and I don’t want anything to take that away.”
She sat up straighter and her entire body tensed. “What? So we go back to how things were?”
“Maybe.”
“Is that what you want?” Gen asked, shutting her eyes and waiting for his answer.
She tried hard to hold on to what little pride she had left. It wasn’t much. She’d come out to see him on a lark, drifted onto the shoulder of the road, and been buried in the snow in an attempt to rescue a dog that didn’t need rescuing. Now this.
“You asked me if I take risks. I thought about it, and I don’t. Never have. I take educated risks if anything. I calculate every risk I take so that I have an exit strategy.”
“Except this is not like building a house or buying real estate!”
“I know, but listen. If I were to take a calculated risk on me and you, the odds aren’t in our favor. I have lots of exes, Gen, and I don’t talk to any of them. But there’s only one you.”
“Wallace—”
“I have too much to lose with you. We both have too much to lose if something goes wrong. You and Joe are everything to me. Like family.”
She finally dared to turn around and see his face. What she saw there surprised her as much as it kicked her in the heart. She saw real pain in those green eyes. It struck her that this was killing him. For a moment, all she could s
ee was the young man who grew up without a father, who used to hang out with Joe and Daddy. Who, for reasons she couldn’t begin to understand, didn’t believe he could make her happy forever.
“It’s okay, baby,” she found herself saying.
Because she loved him so much, because she still had some pride left, she would give him what he wanted. Even if it meant she had to let him go.
“Maybe you’re right,” she lied around the lump in her throat. “Maybe we can go back to how we were.”
12
Wallace woke up the next morning with a gorgeous woman sprawled all over him. Only the second time he’d spent the night with Gen, and it was clear she slept like she lived and loved—all in. Crowding him, pushing her way inside. With any other woman this would be too much far too soon, but with Gen it felt like everything he’d ever wanted.
She’d scared him yesterday, when for the first time he’d pictured a world without Genevieve Hannigan in it. It might as well be a world without the sun. He could have lost her physically, but the fact was that he could still lose her. He could lose their connection forever, the love they had now which went deeper than anything he’d ever felt before. It wasn’t just the glorious sex and the way they fit together, it was a deep friendship that spanned a decade.
He moved his right arm, wondering if he’d ever regain the feeling in it, and Gen snored softly and moved with him. She was like a magnet that formed to his body each way he turned. He felt himself smile as he watched her sleep, because even now she wore a vulnerability that made him ache. Gen didn’t know any other way to be— her emotions were all over her, raw and tender. He managed to disentangle himself, and she rolled to her side.
In the kitchen, he made the coffee and looked outside to see that the snow had stopped falling some time during the night. About three feet of fresh snow covered the steps, the hood of his truck and every other available surface.
He’d be heading back today, after they got Gen’s car. This weather had almost killed the woman he loved twice. Enough already.
THE STARLIGHT HILL COMPLETE COLLECTION: 1-8 Page 52