Snowfall on Haven Point(90)

He gazed down at her, his eyes gleaming with an emotion she couldn’t immediately identify. “What if I’m not?” he murmured.

She caught her breath as the refrigerator compressor hummed on and everything inside her hummed to life, too.

His question seemed to hover between them, arcing and crackling like her downed power line, and she couldn’t help thinking how easy it would be to step forward, to press her mouth to his, to spend the rest of the cold December night in his arms.

And wouldn’t that be a disaster of epic proportion?

She released her breath and decided her only hope of protecting herself was brutal honesty. “I don’t believe it’s a good idea for me to spend time alone with you.”

“Why not?” he demanded. His surprised expression intensified. She couldn’t tell if he was shocked, outraged or hurt—or some combination of all three. “You’re not afraid of me, are you? I hope you know I would never hurt you.”

For a moment, she didn’t know how he could possibly say that. Of course he would hurt her. Maybe he wouldn’t do it intentionally, but she would be left emotionally bruised anyway when she walked away.

An instant later, she realized he was referring to more than her inevitable heartache.

He was thinking of what Rob Warren had done to her.

She couldn’t even think of the two men at the same time, they were so very different.

“No,” she whispered. “I could never be afraid of you, Marshall. Not like that.”

“Are you sure? Right now, your eyes tell a different story.”

Brutal honesty. She didn’t know how else to move forward. She couldn’t let him think she could ever put him in the same category as vermin like Rob.

“I’m afraid of myself,” she admitted.

Though his expression was baffled, he studied her with the same sort of probing look she had received from his sister earlier in the day. “What does that mean?”

She swallowed, wishing she had just left the glass of water in the children’s room and avoided this whole encounter.

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed this, but when we’re alone together, we have a little habit of, um, kissing.”

Instantly, that current sizzled again between them, wild and dangerous.

“I believe I have noticed that,” he drawled, his voice low. His gaze dipped to her mouth and her insides ached with the overwhelming need to throw up her hands already and just kiss him.

“We both know that’s not the smartest thing we could do. I just...thought it would be better to avoid temptation altogether.”

“Temptation. You find me...tempting.”

Beyond words. Like he had been dipped in the very best Belgian chocolate and she couldn’t wait to lick it away.

“Yes,” she said softly. “I shouldn’t, but I do.”

His expression arrested, he nodded. “That’s fair, I guess. Because I’ve spent all day trying not to think about kissing you again and tasting that soft mouth of yours and hearing your sexy little sighs. Ever try to not think about something? Yeah. It ends up being the only thing rattling around in your head.”

She hitched in a breath at the hunger in his eyes and she felt like she was going to burn away to cinders right here in his kitchen. She opened her mouth to respond, but now it was the only thought in her head, too.

She swallowed and licked at lips that suddenly felt swollen and achy. He made a strangled sound and moved forward.

“I want to kiss you right now, Andie. I think you want it, too, but I won’t do it if you tell me no, I swear. I’ll turn around and hobble out of here.”

No. It was one of the first words her kids ever learned, but sometimes it was the hardest possible word to say. “I...” she began, don’t want you to kiss me.

She couldn’t say the rest because both of them would know it was a lie.

“Was that a no?” he asked, watching her intently.

She couldn’t do it. One kiss. Surely she was strong enough for one kiss. Like him, she had thought about it all day, since that morning when he had first come out of his room with his hair damp from the shower.

He wouldn’t kiss her until she made a move. Somehow she knew it with firm assurance. She shook her head and stepped forward and kissed him before she could give herself a chance to come to her senses.

Instantly, she knew it was a dire mistake. The other times they kissed had been tiny, gentle little snowflakes compared to the wild, frenzied storm that churned and sparked between them.

It was raw and intense, heat and hunger and need, and she wanted the kiss to go on and on and on. She forgot about the real storm outside, her damaged house, all the reasons she shouldn’t be doing this.