"It's my favorite place in all the world, and I'm so glad … "
"What?" I asked when he didn't finish.
He ran a hand through his hair. "I just can't believe you're here."
My heart was pounding again, whooshing waves of blood behind my ears. I gripped tighter at the post. Henry was leaning against the fence, his unreadable gaze moving back and forth from the ground to the dark mountains.
I knew very well by what happened in his floury kitchen and beside that campfire at Beacon Rock campground that Henry was a man of action and didn't ask permission first. Which made me wonder why he hadn't grabbed me for a kiss yet. Was it because we hadn't been alone? Or was that no longer what he wanted?
That's when I realized if anything important was going to be said or done, I would be the one who had to bring it up, and stick to it until the matter was settled to my satisfaction. The very notion set loose a different swarm of butterflies in my stomach.
"So, what's this about showing me your horses?" I asked.
He was still gazing at the mountains. "That was my red herring." His mouth moved to smile, but the rest of his face stayed smooth. "I didn't want to take the chance of not being alone with you, at least for a few minutes." He took a step back and nudged a fence post with his foot. "I honestly thought after everything that happened, I would never see you again."
"I got your letter," I blurted before I chickened out. "And I want you to know … " I lowered my eyes, concocting the most magnificent and sincere apology the world had ever beheld. Unfortunately, knowing me, my words were also bound to be ensconced in embarrassing, nervous humor, just to break the tension. Typical cynical Spring.
After one more breath, I forced time and my own heart to slow down, then I opened my mouth and simply said, "Henry, I'm so sorry."
I suppose I should've kept going, but the words were stuck in my throat, shame and guilt choking me mute. Then tears welled-I didn't expect that. Every bone in my body longed for him to forgive me for being blind and judgmental, as well as for being a complete imbecile about my own feelings.
In my heart, I'd forgiven him a million times over.
"No, you were right." He pressed his lips together, his expression growing gloomy. "I still cringe when I remember how I behaved that last day in Vancouver. All those things I said and assumed." He forced his mouth into a smile. "I did actually believe you would come with me, no questions asked. I was horrible, and I apologize."
I laughed softly. "You already did, and I was wrong too."
He held the back of his neck, an air of frustration about him. "I should've asked you about Julia before I did anything," he said. "And I should've told you everything about Parks at the very beginning." He kicked the fence post. "But I didn't want it to come out if it didn't have to."
When he looked up at the sky, I noticed how the bottoms of his eyes were a little shiny. I knew his thoughts had flown to his sister. With that simple realization, the feelings in my heart morphed from guilt and shame into compassion and complete adoration for this weekend cowboy bathed in moonlight.
It was not temporary lust or emotions-run-wild that I was feeling as the booms and sparks of the Twenty-Second Annual Kingston Fireworks Spectacular shot off above our heads. It was calming and grounding and safe, yet I couldn't keep still a second longer.
I inhaled, blocking out everything around me but him, and took a step forward. "Knightly," I whispered. "Every time I think I know what I'm doing, I get knocked sideways."
"Ditto," he said without even the hint of a smile. His forehead was striped with lines of worry and much more gloom than I'd expected. Seeing this, and knowing his stress was my doing, made my heart ache anew. I was prepared to do anything to take that away from him.
So I reached out and took his face. The touch made a wave of uncontrollable longing crash over my head, which normally would have made me want to run away. But not this time. There were no words I could offer. Words seemed to get me in trouble anyway. Actions were called for now, so I held onto him with everything I had and pushed myself forward, finally ready to face the unknown.
"Yes?" he whispered, looking surprised.
I grinned. "Yeah."
The most magnificent feeling in the world was Henry's sweet mouth crashing over mine until neither of us could breathe. His arms wound around me, then slid to the small of my back, pulling me closer. I heard nothing but his breathing-as erratic as mine-and my own heart pounding behind my ears.
"Spring," he whispered, looking into my eyes, making my knees shake. "You're all I've thought about for months."
I slid my fingers into his hair. "This is all I've thought about … " As I crushed my body against his, he exhaled a little groan of shock. I was about to back him up when he spun us around. The next thing I knew, I was atop the split-log railing, looking down at his angel face. After my own quiet gasp, I wrapped my legs around his waist, feeling his strong arms encircle me. The spicy, heady scent coming from the top of his head made me dizzy, and I was thankful his grip was tight enough that I could simply let go.
Letting myself go with Henry was surprisingly effortless.
He only had to tilt his chin up for me to kiss him. I tasted the tangy, phantom hint of cranberries on his tongue, and chocolate and sweetness and love. When I gasped for air, he pressed his mouth to my neck, causing my legs around him to tighten. Spaceships and sky rockets and nuclear explosions shot off inside my head. Henry pulled me off the fence, suspending me against him with his own strength, and I had the sensation of floating on air.
As we kissed and touched and breathed, I was partially aware that my soul had left my body and was hovering somewhere above our heads. Sometime afterward, I realized I'd been in the throes of what Julia described as that very elusive second kind of kiss.
"What is that lip gloss, if I may be so bold?"
By then, the moon was high in the midnight sky as we sat on a small bench behind the stables. The barn blocked our view of the fireworks, but we were shooting off sparks of our own.
"Was it the same you were wearing … before?" He pulled his face back an inch from mine, leaving my lips vibrating.
"I don't remember," I replied, draping my legs across his lap.
"I do," he whispered, butting his forehead against mine. "Pineapple. I haven't been able to eat one since March. Maybe that's what made me want to take you to Tahiti." He chomped his teeth together before coming back to me, one finger tracing over my face, down my neck, then gathering up my hair. "I was partial to the braids. Why the change?"
"That's what girls do. We can't grow a goatee, so we cut our hair."
"No, really." He knew my answer was flippant and, even by the light of the moon, I could see he wanted the truth.
I squirmed a bit before answering. "I'm done pretending," I stated, needing to be honest with him. He seemed content, understanding the meaning of this simple answer, and he kissed the tip of my nose, making me feel as if I were glowing on the inside. "I tried to text you," I said.
"When?"
"After I got yours about meeting at the library. I sort of destroyed my phone so I didn't get the message for three days."
Henry lifted his eyes as if realizing something for the first time. "Oh."
"My text bounced back."
He nodded. "I've been unplugged for a while," he explained. "Shut everything off. I have an old emergency cell that my parents and sister use when they need to reach me and I'm not around a landline."
"Why did you unplug?" I asked.
"I was checking my damn phone every two seconds, hoping to hear from you. After a few days of nothing, I figured I had my answer, and I couldn't stand it."
"I'm sorry," I whispered, touching his face. "I wanted to call you. I guess we're pretty pathetic at the whole communication thing."
"Not anymore," he said. "First thing tomorrow, I'll give you a list of every number and address I have."
"Your first gift to me," I said with a smile. "I'll cherish it always."
Henry laughed softly then gazed off toward the mountains. "Did you know this is the first?" He paused, as if he didn't like the way that sounded. "What I mean is, I've never had a woman here with me, not since I moved away to college. You're my first."