Page 5 of Some Like It Hot
She left him on the porch as she grabbed an ice pack from her freezer. Came out to find him sitting in the grass, staring west as the fire lit the sky.
“Nice place.”
“It was my grandparents’. It was pretty rough inside when I started, but it’s nice now. New kitchen, stacked stone fireplace, refinished flooring. I put in a skylight upstairs so I could watch the stars in the winter.” And now she was blathering. Poor man. She should have just dropped him off at the lodge.
She sat down next to him in the grass and handed him the gel pack. “Put this on your shoulder.”
He took it and held it to his left shoulder and nodded toward the house. “You did all that?”
“I had help.”
“Boyfriend?”
“Dad. When I came home, I just…I didn’t want to live at the lodge. My grandmother lived here until I was twelve. I’d come down here to get away from my brothers. When I got back, it seemed like the right place to live. Clear my head.”
Keep others from hearing her nightmares.
And now she’d probably told him too much because he was quiet a long time. Finally, “The sun never really sets, does it?”
Oh. Um, “No, it doesn’t set. Not in the summer. It can sometimes get dark in the forest, with the shadows, but really, it’s all sun, all the time.”
“Makes it hard to sleep.” He glanced at her, a little spark in his eyes.
But her mouth reacted before she caught on to his flirt. “Oh, I don’t sleep, but it’s not because of the midnight sun.”
No, no—what was her problem? She wanted to yank back the words as soon as she said them.
His mouth tightened, another tiny frown crossed his face, and he turned back to the sunset. But he said nothing.
His leg was strong and warm next to hers as she leaned back on her hands. She let the silence move between them, the sun warm her skin.
Until, “Are you okay, Larke?”
She looked at him, her breath caught, defenses rising, but he wore such a concerned look… Maybe…
She blamed the texture of his soft voice for the truth. “I… In the bar you just reminded me of someone. And when you said war wounds…”
“You lost someone.” He said it without question, as if he justknew.And wasn’t afraid of it.
She nodded.
He turned back to the sunset. “Today is the third anniversary of my dad’s death in Afghanistan.”
She stilled. Couldn’t take her eyes off him. He said it quietly, without emotion, just a hard swallow after his words giving him away. “So, I get it.”
Huh.
Then he met her eyes.
A heartbeat passed between them, and in it her lips parted.
He leaned over and kissed her.
His lips were gentle against hers, tasted of salty beer and campfire smoke with just enough tenderness that she wanted to cry. Because her heart simply reached out for it, waking, longing, needing.
Thirsty for the touch.
She found her hand on his chest, her mouth moving beneath his, opening to let him explore, suddenly, oddly unafraid.