Lavender Blue

by Donna Kauffman

  She took another step forward, but he lifted a hand, just enough to stop her, and swore silently at the flash of hurt he saw in her eyes.

  “I am very attracted to you,” he told her. “And that is a weak adjective I’m using that doesn’t come close to describing the impact you’ve had, are having on me.”

  She went still then, but rather than show hope or sunny optimism, as was her usual default position, her expression shuttered once more, and he realized she was preparing herself for what came next and assuming it wasn’t going to be good.

  “I don’t want to stop,” he told her, and some of that wariness in her expression lifted. “I’m just not sure how to go forward when I don’t know what I want, or am capable of giving, or having, or . . . so many other variables I can’t even organize my thoughts around them. I don’t want to lead you on, and at the same time, I want you so badly it makes it hard to stay focused on anything else but that.”

  Her eyes did flare then, leaving no doubt that she understood, intimately, what he meant. He had to dig his nails into his palms to keep from reaching for her right then.

  “I should have contacted you right away. I should have trusted you, that you’d understand my being all over the map with this.” He lifted his hands, let them fall to his sides, and let down whatever walls he had left. “I don’t even know what the next step looks like, Hannah.”

  “Maybe there is no map to guide us,” she told him, her voice a little husky with emotion now, too. “I certainly wouldn’t have predicted that what happened at my house the other night would have come anywhere in the next dozen steps, and yet . . .” She lifted her shoulders in a simple shrug; then a hint of her sunny smile edged out. “It sure felt like a pretty darn good next step at the time.”

  He smiled then, too, and nodded. “I would have to agree with you there.”

  “So . . . what if we don’t worry so much about where this is going?” she said. “We’re on the record now as being complete idiots without a clue what we’re doing, so no harm, no foul if one of us ends up wanting something more or different from the other.” Now it was her turn to lift her hand to stop him. “I’m not saying that we couldn’t get hurt. I do know we’ve both been through unimaginable pain before and survived. I also get not wanting to ever experience hurt of any kind ever again. I guess it comes down to asking ourselves if we’re willing to risk it to figure out if we can have something worth working for. There is no way to have one without risking the other, so it comes down to figuring out if this is worth that risk. Only you can figure that out for you; only I can figure that out for me. And I don’t know either, Will.”

  His heart took a little hit at that, and he realized that was what she’d been feeling the past few days, being on the receiving end of his uncertainty. It was a fair point to make and put things in a different perspective for him.

  “It was thrilling and exciting what we shared the other day,” she said, which only served to ramp up the chaos inside his head as he tried to separate his desire for her from his ingrained tendency to protect himself at all costs.

  “I’ve enjoyed all of my time with you, clothed or not,” she added with a brief, cheeky grin. “Enough that I am willing to see where it leads. I’m willing to risk that. There are no promises either of us can make on that score, except one. Honesty. And I can promise you I will always give you that. Jump in, dive headfirst into the deep end, or dip your toe in and wade around in the shallow waters for a bit. I’m willing to go at whatever pace works for you, at least until it doesn’t work for me. And then I’d tell you that. All we can do is be honest and forthright about how we’re feeling. I’m a con-fronter, a talk-things-through-er.” She grinned now. “You’re a bury-er. A maybe-if-I-don’t-give-it-energy-it-will-go-away-er. There’s something to be said for both approaches. I would love to be better at shrugging off the small stuff.”

  “I don’t know if I can say I’d rather spend more time confronting stuff I’d rather not deal with, but I will say that I won’t let things go unspoken that have to do with you, or us.” His lips curved more deeply. “I may have to drag myself to doing it kicking and screaming, but I’ll at least give you a heads-up that the battle is in progress.”

  She laughed at that. “Fair enough.”

  Everything he was coming to love about her shone clearly from her soft gray eyes. He wasn’t any less utterly terrified after their little talk. If anything, he was more scared than he’d ever been in his life. He’d fallen hard and happily for Zoey, had just gone gung ho, full tilt into his relationship with her, as had she. They’d remained that way for the duration of their time together. It had been a wild ride he’d loved with every part of his heart, and he’d felt lucky to experience every single second it had lasted.

  That was before he knew the deep, soul-crushing, gut-leveling pain that losing something like that, losing someone like that, could do to him. So, while he’d love nothing more than to dive in the deep end with Hannah, and it was definitely beckoning, calling his name, with every sweet smile and dry laugh she shared with him . . . he just couldn’t. He knew too much about the dangers that lurked in the depths of those dark, all-encompassing waters.

  But how did he dip a toe in? How did he wade his way in slowly? Test the waters? Was that even possible?

  His gut told him if he was going to wade in or dive in, ever again, Hannah was it; she was the one worth entering those swift waters for. Of that he had no doubt. So, he was already in the fast-moving currents, already on the way to being in deep over his head. Could he handle that? And more importantly, could she? Because he simply wasn’t cut out to wade in.

  And the words just came out of him then, because if not right now, then when? “Here is my truth,” he began. “All of it.” His throat threatened to close over and he had to clear it, more than once, before he could continue. “I want you in my arms, and in my life. I want you beside me, I want you under me, and on top of me, all around me. I’m not good at sticking my toe in. In fact, I suck at that. I think that’s why it’s taken me so long to climb out from under my grief. I don’t know how to do things in stages, so it feels all-consuming to me right from the get-go. I find something I connect to, and I’m in. I don’t know how to moderate that, and I’m well aware that that kind of intensity isn’t for everyone. I can sit back and let you dictate the pace, and, unlike the past few days, I can promise that as long as you let me know what they are, I will put your needs above mine, always.” He paused, tried to get his suddenly pounding heart under control. This was why he hadn’t called her, because of all of this, and it was a lot. “Patience isn’t an issue with me. I apply it every day in my current job and most decidedly in my past career. I would never pressure you to do anything you didn’t want to do, and you don’t strike me as a pushover anyway.”

  She smiled at that, and he wanted to smile, too, but he felt like he was putting his life on the line here, and he needed to get the rest of it out there, so he could find out if he’d just ruined the best thing to happen to him in a very long time. But laying himself bare was, in a way, the only protection he had left. If she couldn’t handle who he was, then now was when he needed to know.

  “All that said, however we proceed, it will be next to impossible for you not to know that I’m so hungry for you it feels like I’m starving. All the time. For all parts of you, not just the physical. Hearing that probably scares the hell out of you, which is why I’m saying all this. Because it scares the hell out of me.” He lifted his hands, let them drop by his sides. “That’s as down-to-the-bone honest as I can be.” His heart was beating so hard, his pulse thrumming so loudly, he could barely hear himself speak, much less think. Surprisingly, now that he’d put it all out there, he did manage a brief, wry look. “You wanted forthright,” he said. “Be careful what you wish for.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Hannah wanted nothing more than to close the distance between them and quite literally fling herself at him. Let him wrap her up and
keep her close for the rest of his days. Let her do the same for him.

  Hearing him say those words to her, bare himself to her as he had, was both wrenching and breathtaking. Wrenching because she could see the fear, hear the barely contained nervousness. This putting yourself out there, being vulnerable to someone, wasn’t for sissies. And maybe she’d been so caught up in the rush of pheromones that she hadn’t truly given that part a thorough look. It had been so very long since she’d even had to think about it. She’d met Steve in college. She hadn’t been involved with anyone else since.

  Their relationship had been over a long time, and she had no ghosts there, no baggage. Not about her marriage, anyway. Losing her son had pretty much eclipsed any pain she might have felt regarding the end of her already dysfunctional marriage. It had been a relief more than anything, not having to devote any more of what she had left of herself to trying to save it.

  Once it was over, she’d realized almost immediately that she’d been trying to save it because that’s what you did when you made vows, and they had a child together. When the truth was she should have been trying to save it because it was something she actually wanted. But she hadn’t. Nor had her ex, who’d proven that by his quick remarriage and immediate production of a whole new family. She’d stopped asking herself what else she could have done, and wishing she could help to ease Steve’s pain over their joint loss when she’d learned he’d been assuaging it with someone else all along.

  So it was a bit of a shock to her system, standing there now, to realize that the risk she was running by getting involved with Will wasn’t really about putting her heart out there and possibly getting it stomped on. Her heart hadn’t broken, but had actually finally begun to mend when Steve left.

  No, the far scarier part for her now was that she would have the power to hurt Will. And that was something she’d never forgive herself for doing, even if she’d never intentionally do so. She saw his chin dip, and realized she’d let her silence go on far too long. “My truth,” she said, not entirely surprised to hear the shakiness in her voice, “is that I am afraid.”

  His gaze jerked back to hers.

  “About a lot of things. The idea that you have found something in me to connect to, so strongly, thrills me. Down to my toes. That you’re willing to stand there, right now, and bare your soul to me, knowing that you might scare me off, that grounds me, steadies me. That takes real strength.” She smiled briefly even as she blinked away the wet sheen over her eyes. “And these past few days of silence notwithstanding, it tells me you won’t back down from saying what needs to be said, not when my well-being is at stake, anyway. I respect that, and I happen to like it a lot, too.”

  His gaze turned wary rather than relieved, and she knew he heard the “but” coming. She wished there wasn’t one.

  “I’m just not sure that . . .” She trailed off, wanting to find the right words, and not insult him, or worse—far worse—his late wife. She took a steadying breath and simply put it out there, as he had. “You have held on to your grief for your wife a very long time. I ache that you suffered for so long. But . . . I worry that—”

  “I’m replacing her with you?” he said, no accusation, or worse, condescension in his tone.

  “I would never presume that,” she said. “What I mean is that sometimes the easiest way to deal with a big, huge, hard thing is to transfer it onto something else, hopefully something better and happier, healthier. Sometimes, that’s a good way to deal with things, but other times it can just be another way of avoiding the big, huge, hard thing.”

  “And you worry that you’re behind door number two.”

  She nodded, a brief curve hinting at the corners of her mouth.

  He didn’t immediately deny it, which would have worried her more, not less. Instead he seemed to take her words as intended and appeared to be truly thinking them over. “I’m sure there has to be some truth to that,” he said at length.

  She wanted him, but she wanted his desire for her, his need and want of her, to truly be about her. So, his honest assessment was a good thing, even if it pricked at her heart at the same time.

  He did step closer then, stopping when he was just in front of her. He held her gaze unswervingly, and every part of her responded to him, to his proximity.

  “But just so you know, while in some ways this all seems very sudden,” he said, searching her eyes as he did, “you’ve captivatd me since I first saw you. All of this didn’t happen because we both suffered a major tragedy, or because of the time we spent together in your bed. That last part just made it impossible for me to duck it any longer.”

  “It?” she asked, maybe a bit breathlessly, and not caring.

  “This,” he said, looking deeply into her eyes. “You had my attention even before that day I pulled you out from under a crumbling chimney. But that was when I knew for sure something was there. Your soft eyes, the pretty smile, your unswerving optimism no matter how many setbacks you all faced with the farmhouse, your willingness to just say what’s on your mind. All of it got to me. All of you.” His gaze remained intent, but the rest of his oh-so-serious expression split into a grin that made her knees actually wobble. “The upward trajectory from there has been sharp.”

  She laughed at that, wishing it would relax some of the tension mounting inside her. “I can identify with that,” she admitted. “I admired your work ethic, your focus, your steady and calm demeanor even when our house was literally crumbling around us. And it’s possible I might have spent a lot of time watching you toss big rocks around when I should have been picking lavender.” She grinned broadly when his abashed grin was matched with a bit of a blush. “I’ve never been so fond of white T-shirts before in my life.” His cheeks grew a bit ruddier still, and she delighted in discovering yet another thing she hoped to make him do more often.

  They held each other’s gaze and she couldn’t seem to stop trembling in anticipation.

  His grin peeked out slowly, and his gaze never left hers. “So, if I promise to wear a white T-shirt . . . does this mean our date is still on?” he asked, breaking the taut silence.

  That made her laugh even as her heart pounded. Were they going to do this after all? She nodded. “Can we set the date and time now, though?”

  He ducked his chin, chuckling as he did. “I deserve that.”

  “A little,” she said, wondering when it would be okay for him to just kiss her already. She was dying for him to touch her.

  He lifted his head and she might have gasped just a little because the fear was gone now, the nerves, too. Leaving only the heat. “Is tonight too soon?”

  Her pulse leapt. “I guess I can wait that long.”

  His grin was slow, and not a little wicked. “I was thinking dinner down in Turtle Springs. Maybe take a boat out on the Hawksbill River. You get a very different view of the mountains from the middle of the river. If you’d like to bring your sketch pad, I thought maybe some of the scenery would be inspiring.”

  Touched at his thoughtfulness, she nodded. “That sounds lovely.”

  “I was hoping you’d think so. I also figured being in a tiny canoe on a big wide river might give us a fighting chance to spend some time talking about more inconsequential things. Getting-to-know-more-about-you things.”

  She laughed. “With our clothes on this time.”

  “Though I kind of liked the things I was getting to know before, too.”

  His husky voice and the way he was looking at her, coupled with all the things he’d said to her, made her want to beg off the river trip and drag him back to her place right then and there. And you were worried he was going to be the intense one?

  “Then we have a lot to look forward to,” she said, thinking if he didn’t kiss her inside the next five seconds, she was just going to go full on Addie Pearl and take what she wanted. Right there on the park bench if need be.

  Something of that must have shown on her face, because he took a step closer still, all but el
iminating the rest of the space between them, yet still not touching her. “That hunger I mentioned is the only thing keeping my hands off you.”

  She trembled and had to forcibly keep herself from simply leaning into him, against him. “Maybe . . . maybe dinner and the canoe trip could wait one more night,” she said against a suddenly very dry throat. “You know, just so we don’t jump each other right there in the restaurant. Might upset the other diners.”

  “So considerate,” he said, murmuring now as his head bent imperceptibly closer to hers. “Always thinking of others.”

  “That’s me.”

  “How badly did you want to paint today?” he asked, his gaze dropping to her mouth.

  She wet her lips and his throat worked, hard.

  “I couldn’t hold a paintbrush steady right now if my life depended on it.” She looked from his eyes to his mouth. “Didn’t you want to sit in on Jake’s rehearsal?”

  “I caught the first song. He knew I had a meeting with Addie Pearl.”

  “Right,” she said, her gaze fixed on his mouth now. “Addie Pearl. We might owe her a thank-you.”

  “It would go right to her head,” Will said, and leaned in so close now he was whispering into her ear.

  “She earned it,” Hannah said, barely able to get the words out, she was shaking so hard with want.

  “True.”

  “Could we go somewhere, anywhere more private? To, ah, continue this conversation?” Hannah asked. Begged. “Because one more second of this torture and we might end up giving the youngsters that frequent this trail an entirely inappropriate nature demonstration.”

  His chuckle was raspy and deep, and she wanted to rub her hands up and down her arms to stop the tingling sensation it sent skittering over her skin before it reached other places that needed no additional tingling right then. None. At all.

  “Again with the thoughtfulness,” he said, and finally, mercifully touched her. But not in the way she’d anticipated. He took her hands in his, then wove his broader, warmer fingers through hers.