Page 64 of Stay this Christmas
He hadn’t acknowledged me during my visit. I’d said a few empty phrases of reassurance, but he hadn’t so much as looked at me. According to Pierce, he’d been the same with his brothers. Whatever comfort anyone tried to offer, he’d rejected it all.
“He almost died after the crash, but I don’t think it was pain in his leg that hurt him, it was that he’d never have that life back again. He’d sacrificed everything for his career in guiding and climbing, and when he lost that, what did he have left?”
I paused, fighting off the image of the fearless Ian Vaughn lying in that rehab bed as if his life was over. I’d never lost a leg, so my opinion might not mean much, but it looked to me like he’d given up. If he couldn’t have the life in the mountains he’d created, he didn’t want anything. I wouldn’t even say he’d looked miserable—that would be a strong emotion. He’d just laid there, staring at the wall, shutting everyone out and waiting for the world to end.
He’d looked likenothing, and that emptiness was so much worse.
“When I left his room, I went outside and sat in my car. My heart was racing, I couldn’t get my breathing to even out, my hands shook. I panicked.”
Harper put her legs back across my lap, scooting closer to loop one hand around my elbow as though she could soothe those old memories away.
“I’m sorry. It must have been hard to see him like that.”
“It was, but I admit, I wasn’t thinking of him right then. I was thinking of me. I was scared.”
“Scared of what?”
“How alike we were.”
I took her hand in mine, stroking her fingers, trying to find the right words. “I’d been living from one experience to another, always looking for my next personal best. No plans, no long-term goals. No long-term relationships, either. I was living my best life, but I was living it alone. That day, everything shifted. I sat in my car imagining myself brought down by an injury in ten or twenty years—what would I have left then? My achievements? The mountains I’d climbed? The places I’d seen?”
I turned her hand over, lacing our fingers together. “None of that would matter if I didn’t have anyone to share it with.”
“That’s why you came home.”
She sounded like she’d finally put the last piece in a puzzle after a long search.
“I didn’t want to be alone anymore. I’d developed friendships through the years, but they were short-lived. I wanted more. I wanted a relationship again with everyone I cared about here. Georgia. Grandpa. Dad and the littles.” I shifted so I could face her fully. “You.”
Her soft little intake of breath made my stomach flip. I’d said too much this time for sure, but I couldn’t keep pretending like seeing her again had only been a happy coincidence. I might not have had a plan for winning her back, but the hope that Icouldhad been my main reason for coming home to Magnolia Ridge.
It didn’t line up with her plans for keeping me in the friend zone, but if I wanted to avoid Ian’s lonely fate, I’d need to take a few risks.
Her gaze seemed stuck on mine, her lips parted as if searching for something to say. I stared into her sapphire eyes, waiting for her to decide. Back in high school, we’d made a game of staring at each other this way. Sometimes, this much charged eye contact would make one of us burst into laughter. Other times…
Harper crashed into me, her mouth on mine. No hesitation, no tester kisses, just a comet lighting up the night sky. Her hand came to the back of my neck, urging me even closer as though I might slip away. I shifted her until she was almost in my lap, her legs across mine, our arms circling each other to block everything else out.
I groaned like a desperate man, the years and miles between us erased with every touch. Kissing Harper felt more like coming home than crossing into Magnolia Ridge’s town limits ever had. The sliver of my mind still capable of stringing together words wanted to know why I’d left in the first place, but the rest of me just rejoiced in the moment.
Her silky hair sliding beneath my fingers on her shoulder. The sweet taste of sugar cookies on her mouth. The tiny, glorious sounds she made with each breath. My chaotic brain paused its frantic hop-scotch, devoting itself fully to every last detail.
I traced the line of her jaw, my hand splaying to span her neck. How could skin be this soft? Her pulse jumped beneath my fingers, her heart rate zooming as fast as mine. I bent down so I could press my mouth there, nipping lightly at her neck, that heady vanilla scent imprinting on my synapses.
She drew in a long breath like she’d just come up from a deep-dive. I shifted, opening my eyes to find uncertainty in hers. A fire of desire shone there, too, but the thread of indecision sobered me like a shot of caffeine, jolting me out of my daze. I didn’t want her to second-guess or regret any part of this.
Right now, I needed to be the reliable sedan, not the sports car ready to hit one hundred miles per hour.
Loosening my hold on her, I gave her a little more space, trailing my fingers along her hairline even as I pulled back. “Okay there, Harps?”
“Maybe we should…” She swallowed hard, her gaze dropping to my mouth for the barest second before darting back up again. “Maybe we should watch the movie. It won’t count for your list otherwise.”
Her mouth curved, but the hesitation in that smile slayed me.
“Whatever you want.”
She watched me a full minute, like she was still deciding something. I meant exactly what I’d said—I’d give her anything she wanted. An excuse? Time? Pull her back into my arms and kiss her until she had no questions left about what either of us was feeling? She could take her pick.
Although, my vote would be a solid yes for that last one.
