Snowfall on Haven Point(91)
The only thing that mattered right now was this man she was coming to care for entirely too much.
“You know, I would really love to kiss you somewhere besides my kitchen,” he murmured long moments later. Andie closed her eyes, her imagination going crazy.
“And,” he added, pressing another kiss to the edge of her mouth, “I would really love to do it sometime when I’m not on these damn crutches.”
They could go into his bedroom. He could lie back and she would do all the work. Tease him and touch him and explore all those muscles.
She came within a heartbeat of throwing every last shred of caution into that whirlwind.
Fortunately, her dog saved her. Sadie whined outside the door, shredding the hazy, impossible dreams she had begun to weave.
No. She couldn’t do this. She stepped away from him feeling shaky and weak.
“See what I’m talking about? I don’t have much self-control when it comes to you and it’s obvious neither of us has very good judgment when we’re alone.”
“We kissed. It’s not the end of the world.”
He was right, but she didn’t know how to tell him why she couldn’t afford to keep tormenting herself like this, discovering the possibilities between them when she knew it could never be anything more.
Again, she wished she had just slipped into her room the moment the kids were in bed so she could have avoided him completely. She really didn’t want to bare her soul to him, but right now she didn’t see any other option.
“I’m very attracted to you, Marshall. That’s probably obvious the moment you touch me. I’m attracted to you and I...think I could care about you very easily. If I’m not careful, I could see myself doing something entirely self-destructive like falling in love with you.”
He looked as stunned as if she’d just kicked his cast out from under him. “Self-destructive.”
“What else would you call it? Stupid. Thoughtless. Masochistic. All of the above. You’re the worst possible man in Haven Point for me!”
If she didn’t know better, she might think he looked hurt.
“The worst. That’s quite a generalization.”
“That doesn’t make it any less true.” Her fingers were trembling and she tucked them into fists, hoping he didn’t notice. “I’ve already loved one man in a uniform. I can’t let myself do it again. I know my own strengths and weaknesses and the simple truth is that I’m not strong enough to let myself care for someone who insists on putting himself in harm’s way.”
He seemed carved in stone—except for his eyes, which blazed with heat and desire. “You’re going to discount me and an entire segment of the male population because of an occupation?”
“It’s more than an occupation. We both know that. I was married to a cop. I know it’s a mind-set, part of who you are. You want to jump right in and save people, no matter the consequences. You feel like it’s your job to watch over the whole world. That’s the reason you hobbled down the street through the snow last night to make sure the children and I were all right.”
“What’s wrong with worrying about the people you...care about?”
“There’s nothing wrong with it. It’s admirable, Marshall. The world needs more people like you. I was incredibly touched that you would go to such lengths because you were worried about us and had to make certain yourself that we were okay.”
This entire argument was moot. It was already far too late. She had already fallen for him and talking about it was only making her more aware that a vast chasm of pain waited for her.
“Don’t make such a big deal out of that,” he said gruffly. “Anybody would have done the same.”
He looked embarrassed, uncomfortable and unsure of himself.
She sighed. “No. Not everyone. But you will, a hundred times over, whatever it takes. I respect that and admire it so much, but I can’t let myself care for you.”
“I guess that’s clear enough,” he said, his features remote and his tone stiff.
Again, she had the impression she had hurt him, though she couldn’t imagine how that was possible. Oh, she hoped her house would be habitable early the next day so she didn’t have to deal with this awkwardness much longer.
“I’m sorry.”
“No need to apologize.”
He said one thing, but she couldn’t shake the feeling the truth was quite the opposite.
“Good night,” she murmured. Her throat felt tight, achy, but she told herself that was a small price to pay for holding on to the last safe remnant of her heart.
CHAPTER TWENTY
AFTER A RESTLESS, uneven sleep, he woke early the next morning, when the sun was just starting to think about rising above the mountains through the curtains he hadn’t closed the night before.