The Last One(37)

“I need to get to the fields.” Without warning, he dropped his hand from my face and stood up. I’d been leaning on him more than I’d realized, and I had to catch myself from tumbling off the boulder in his absence.

“Okay.” I looked up at him, waiting. I wanted to push him. God, how I wanted to rise up on my knees, even knowing how the rock would bite into my bare skin, wrap my arms around his waist and make him kiss me again. I craved the touch of his hands down my back and on my ass.

“I need to go.” He repeated the words, but still he didn’t move. I stayed silent this time. His hand reached out toward me, and for a dizzy second I thought he might draw me close again, but he only touched his fingertip to one of my red curls. I held my breath.

His face was shuttered again, but his chest rose and fell rapidly, making me think his heartbeat probably matched my own. I lifted my hand to cover his where it hovered near my shoulder, but he stepped back, fisting both hands at his sides.

“I’ll see you later.” He spun and stalked off around to the back of the house. The screen door squeaked open and slammed, and I remembered his coffee cup. He must’ve opened the door to set it in the kitchen. A moment later, I heard the distinctive engine of the farm truck and the peel of tires on gravel.

My body sagged as though Sam had been holding it up. I brought my fingers to touch my lips, still buzzing from the kiss. It had been so unexpected and so simple ... maybe the most uncomplicated kiss I’d had since I was fifteen years old. He hadn’t touched me except on my face. Yet it shook me more than if he’d had his hands down my shirt.

I retrieved my pad and returned the pencils to their case with hands that weren’t quite steady yet. Once I had everything packed up, I went back inside. The house had come to life in the near-hour I’d been drawing; Bridget lay on the floor in front of the television, watching morning cartoons. Ali was pouring a cup of coffee as I walked into the kitchen.

“Hey, early bird.” She unhooked another mug from the cabinet and poured me some coffee. “Getting a little, uh, art time in this morning?” Her voice was teasing, and I glanced over to see one eyebrow raised.

“Yeah. The sky was beautiful.” I took my coffee and added milk. “Thanks, this smells wonderful.”

“Oh, yeah, you were definitely checking out the sky. Mmmhmmm.” She nodded, a smile playing on her lips.

“What’s that look for?” I leaned back against the counter, crossing my arms over my chest and blowing on my coffee mug.

“Nooothing.” She stretched out the word. “Only you know, I happened to look out my window this morning right after I got out of bed. Just checking on the day. And I saw you holding your sketch pad, and I saw my brother ... holding you.”

“Oh, God, Ali.” I covered my face with both hands. “Don’t tell him you saw that. He’ll freak out. Well, more than he already probably is.” I peeked at her through my fingers. “Are you mad at me?”

“Lord, no. Why would I be?” She mirrored my position across the kitchen, sipping on her coffee.

“Because he’s your brother. And ... and. . I don’t know. I was mad when my friend Suzanne kissed my brother when we were in high school. There could be an ick factor.”

“Maybe that’s because you were young, and he’s your little brother. I don’t have any illusions about Sam’s virtue.” She leaned forward to glance into the living room, making sure her daughter was still paying attention to the television. “He’s always been very discreet. He never brings girls around here, ever, but I know when he’s seeing someone in town.”

I frowned. “Is he seeing someone now?”

Ali shook her head, smirking. “Not since Jaycee Mathers hightailed it to Nashville back in March. And believe me, she wasn’t anything special.” She took another drink of coffee. “So you want to tell me what’s going on with you two, and how long it’s been going on?”

“I have no idea, and just since this morning.” I traced the seam at the edge of the counter. “We talked last night on the front porch after you fell asleep and abandoned me down here.”

“You talked? Without yelling at each other? Wow.”

I grinned. “I know, right? He seemed ... mellow.”

“Yeah, because he’d been in town hanging out with Boomer and other males. He got his testosterone fix. So what’d he say?”

I hugged my arms around my middle. “We talked about losing parents. And living in small towns. He thanked me for helping with the onions. Oh, and we decided we were going to be friends.”