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The loud chatter approaching the office could only be made by a group of eight, shouting about who was waiting for whom and who was holding up the pack. There was a barrage of jokes about snoring and then threats about who was getting dumped in the lake, sleeping bag and all.
Casey braced herself for what she knew was coming next. Because of course it wasn’t going to be Kristi or Braise or Janelle or any of the other ones opening the office door.
“Come on, Chef. Go get your mountain lady to get us some maps,” Jared’s voice rang out. Casey couldn’t hear Ben’s response but it obviously garnered some laughs, followed by the scuffle of what she hoped was mock fighting and not actual slugs taken outside.
A few beats later, Ben pushed open the door. His face was flushed and he had leaves stuck in his hair. Casey tried to keep her expression impassive but she couldn’t stop a smile from curling up, hard as she tried to press it back down.
“You’ve got—” She gestured to her own hair, wishing she’d thought to pull it back in some way before he arrived.
Ben reached up to touch the leaves. Laughing sheepishly, he brushed them out of the strands.
“Jared’s a jerk, don’t listen to anything he says.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” she replied with a grin.
“Smart move. You said you had maps for the hike?”
Casey pulled them out and showed him how to get to the trailhead. “It’s going to start gradually as you walk in, and then after about a half mile you’ll hit a steep stretch with a lot of climb pretty fast. There’s a good spot for views if you push on and follow the side trail to an outcropping. You can stop there for a snack if you don’t make it to the top before lunch.”
“We’re all packed with sandwiches,” he confirmed.
“Something tells me they’re good ones.”
“Nah, Eli’s in charge of lunch. PB and J on Wonder Bread.”
“Next time you should go camping with other chefs. It’s a good thing everything tastes better outdoors.”
“Everything?” Ben asked, and there was a tone in his voice that made Casey sure he was thinking about something other than sandwiches. She had to remind herself to do her job. She bent back over the map to show him the best route to take along the long, sloping ledge to the peak.
The next thing she knew, they were huddled together, looking over the turns. She was focused on doing what she loved, helping people get outdoors, but not so much that she didn’t notice how close she was to his touch.
All that changed when the door behind them opened and, just as quickly, slammed shut. Casey knew exactly who had come in and then abruptly left. Janelle was wearing leggings and sneakers that Casey hoped would be enough for the rocky stretches up. Her thick hair was pulled into a high ponytail. Casey got a good look at it, since all she saw was Janelle’s back on the way out.
“Shit,” Ben muttered under his breath as he pulled away. “They’re waiting, I should go.” He moved to scoop up the maps and one fell to the floor. They both bent to pick it up, bumping heads as they stooped down.
He rocked back on his heels. “Janelle’s a little—”
“You don’t have to explain,” Casey interrupted, standing quickly and stepping back behind the desk. Back where she belonged, nowhere close enough to Ben to make other women jealous—even if there wasn’t anything going on for Janelle to be jealous of.
Ben shook his head as he got up and gathered the maps. “It’s not how it seems, with the tent and stuff. But I think maybe she thought...”
“Seriously,” Casey said. “You have nothing to explain. But you might want to talk to her.” She shrugged to show it was none of her business, but Ben looked so distraught that her tone softened. “It’s only a suggestion. You know her. Do what you think is best.”
It was quiet after the door shut behind him and the two SUVs backed down the dirt road. Casey had no idea what to do with her day anymore.
Stuck behind the registration desk, trying not to devote all her time to pondering what exactly had happened with Janelle, a nervous energy bubbled through her. When Geller came over at noon, she was happy to have him relieve her at the desk. That gave her a chance to vigorously attack the signs around the site with fresh paint, avoiding going anywhere near where she knew Ben had slept the night before, so she didn’t have to imagine his steady breathing beside Janelle.
The mountain was taking on its rich afternoon glow when she popped back into the office, smeared with dirt and sweat, and asked Geller if he would mind if she went down to the lake for a while. He waved his arms for her to go, as she knew he would, insisting he could take care of things himself. Casey was skeptical, but she couldn’t come up with anything else that needed to be done in that moment. Even after working on the grounds, she still felt like if she didn’t keep moving, she’d stay spinning her wheels about Ben.
So she walked briskly past her cabin and down the path to the lake. There, she turned the large metal rowboat onto its back and dragged it to the water edge. Running up to her cabin to grab an apple, she stopped at the shed to pick up the oars and fitted them securely into the oarlocks, holding the apple in her teeth and sucking back the juice as it dripped down her chin.
She unlaced her boots and pulled off her socks, throwing everything into the bottom of the boat where it landed with a hollow thud. Her jeans she rolled to her knees and then waded into the lake. The water had warmed in the sun and it felt good after all the work she’d done. She pushed off the boat and hopped in as it drifted from shore.
She took another bite of the apple and held it between her teeth while she steered the prow of the boat toward the middle of the lake and began to row. Long strokes stretched out her body as she fell into a steady rhythm. She loved the way the droplets cascaded off the paddle when she drew the oars toward her, making a line in the water that spread and spread. When she plunged them into the water and pulled, the boat leaped forward as though it had wings.
Casey rowed until her hands were raw and her breath came heavy and quick. She was a long way out of the cove on her side of the lake and heading toward the fat curve of the far end when she finally allowed herself to stop, gulping in deep breaths in the sparkling sun.
Finishing the apple, she pushed the oars aside and let the boat drift. Lying across the seat, her head propped up against the gunwale, she draped her legs over the other side so her toes grazed the silky water and teased them in and out of the lake. Content, she closed her eyes, lulled by the gentle lapping at the sides of the boat.
When after a long while her neck started to stiffen, she swung her legs around and sat up, momentarily disoriented by how far she had drifted across the lake. She was close to the opposite shore, with Mt. Bonnet rounding its head above her. She looked up, for a second wondering whether she could see Ben and the rest of his party somewhere in its trees before realizing that was ridiculous. The trail went along the other side.
Still, toward the top there were some viewpoints over the lake if they decided to go exploring. She thought about docking the rowboat on this side and climbing up, but it would be awkward if she ran into them along the top. She could picture Jared’s taunts and Janelle’s face if it turned out that she’d just so happened to spend her afternoon going exactly where she knew they’d be.
No, she needed to pull away before things got weird. Or any weirder than they already were. There were plenty of things she enjoyed doing besides climbing Mt. Bonnet. She gripped the oars again and rowed hard in the opposite direction. She had to make sure she wouldn’t find herself tempted again to touch down at the base of the mountain, just to be closer to its rise.
* * * * *
USUALLY AFTER A LONG day on the lake, Casey wanted to sink into her cabin and relax. But even tiring herself out rowing hadn’t quieted the restlessness inside. What was going on with her? She sat on a rock and used her socks to dry her feet before putting the socks and her hiking boots back on. Then she traipsed up the path to check in with Geller at registration.
He was sitting at the desk, using a ruler to make new lines in the ledger. She’d tried to show him how to do it on the computer, but he didn’t want one in the office. She’d also suggested graph paper, lined paper, printing out pages the way he liked it, even eyeballing instead of measuring outright. But Geller knew what he wanted, and she couldn’t fault him for that. Mostly she figured that he needed something to keep him occupied. That at least was something she could understand.
“Evening, Mr. G,” Casey called, stamping her boots outside the door to get the mud and leaves off before stepping in.
It always made her happy to see his face brighten with he saw her.
Then his eyes got wide.
“Christ almighty Case, what happened to you?” he cried, setting down the ruler and lunging forward in his chair.
Casey looked down to see what he was talking about. Her jeans were wet, her T-shirt caked with mud, her hair wild around her shoulders, and both hands were ripped and bleeding from the oars. If she had to guess, she’d wager that a good amount of the dirt streaked across her palms had wound up on her face.
“Went out for a little row.” She grinned.
“Did I, or did I not, get you boating gloves last year for Christmas.” Geller frowned.
“I know.” Casey slumped guiltily into the green futon beside the desk. “I forgot.”
Geller shook his head. “It’s only spring. Don’t kill yourself before summer even begins.”
“I don’t know what I’d do without you looking out for me. Anything happen while I was gone?”
Geller went over the additional registrations but had nothing else to report.
“You see any more of that reunion crew?” he asked, resting his elbows on the table.
Casey’s heart leaped to her throat. Did he know something?
Then she stopped herself. What was there to know?
“This morning,” she said, looking around the office in an effort to appear casual. “They were itching for a hike so I sent them up Bonnet.”
Geller nodded his approval. “Good, I’m glad they’re having a good time. Did the fishing guys who went out this morning come back through?”
Casey shook her head, allowing herself an internal sigh. Geller was just checking up on everyone. She was being paranoid about nothing.
“I can stay until closing if you want to get home,” she offered, but Geller said no.
“You’re getting back and taking a shower and putting on some warmer clothes before it gets dark.”
Casey laughed at his tone. He didn’t normally play father to her, so when he did try to step in, she knew it was serious. She must really look a mess.
“Okay,” she agreed, “but it’s still early. I’ll come back.”
“After dinner,” Geller conceded. “You have some of that lasagna first.” Casey chuckled at his certainty that she still had plenty left, knowing how much his wife had packed. And it was true, as soon as he said it she realized how hungry she was, that apple a long time ago. She waved and headed back to her cabin, jogging to keep the cold at bay.
She told herself she was showering quickly because she wanted to get back into comfortable clothes. She told herself she was reheating her lasagna and carrying it over to the office because she didn’t want Geller to be sitting there all night while she ate.
But really she wanted to be there before it got dark. Before the hikers came back to the campsite for the night.
She was being ridiculous, she scolded herself as she hurried up the path. They could have already come back and said hi to Geller and then headed straight for their tents. They could come back later but not check in at the office at all. They could go into Bonnet or another town for dinner and be out all night, not returning until long after the office had closed and she was tucked in her cabin, asleep. It was absurd to try to cross paths with them at all.
Not them, though. One of them. Ben.
Casey couldn’t deny it anymore. She wanted to see him again. She hoped he wanted to see her, too. She hoped he’d thought about her as he pushed himself across the long crown of Mt. Bonnet and admired the view. She hoped he’d gazed out over the lake and tried to spot her cabin as the rest of them looked for which colorful dots were their tents.
She hoped she wasn’t the only one replaying every note of their conversation that morning and longing for more.
Geller was surprised to see her so soon, but he didn’t protest when she sent him home with compliments to Mrs. Geller for another good meal.
“You have a good night,” he called as he backed down the dirt road.
Casey certainly hoped that she would.
* * * * *
WHEN CASEY HEARD THE crunch of tires come up the road, she quickly scanned the bookshelf and pulled out a book at random, trying to look busy. She opened to a page around a third of the way through and propped her feet up as if she’d been reading all night.
“At it again?” Ben stuck his nose up to the screen and stepped in.
She kicked her boots down from the desk. “There’s a lot of excitement here on Saturday nights,” she said.
“I see that.”
“We’re heading back to camp, Ben!” Kristi called.
“I’ll meet you guys in a minute,” he said through the screen. There were some snickers, followed by the sounds of seven people tramping to their campsite, making plans for dinner once Jared got the fire roaring again.
“So, how’s the reading going?” He jumped in before Casey could ask about the hike.
“It’s good,” she said brightly. “You know. Murder. Mayhem.”
“I bet,” he agreed. “You get through a lot tonight?”
“Sure.” She nodded, wondering why she was getting the third degree about... She looked down to see what she was supposed to be reading. That’s when she realized the book was upside down.
She groaned and threw it across the room. He caught it without missing a beat.
“How was the hike?” she mumbled, looking anywhere to avoid his laughing eyes and the bright, pink flush in his cheeks from the sun.
“Breathtaking,” he said. And buried in that one word Casey knew was everything else he was couldn’t describe—the pull of muscles pressing up a steep incline. The rocks underneath his well-worn boots. The smell of dirt and trees and that moment when the trail opened up into a gasp of blue.
“It’s a terrific climb,” Casey agreed, knowing there was no way to capture in words how it felt. But in her own inadequate description, she knew he could hear how much she understood.
“There was talk about an epic Scrabble round later. Want to stop by?” He paused. “Unless of course this book is more enticing.” He turned it over to see what it was that she’d thrown on him. “A Bounty on the Seas? Now I know I don’t have to worry about which is the better offer.”
He threw the book back. It hit the edge of the desk and fell to the floor, pages bent open like wings.
“That’s camp property!” Casey gasped, leaping up to rescue the book.
“The games will be on after whatever Braise manages to pass off as ‘dinner’,” Ben said. “Although based on your reading skills, you might not be up for the challenge. To be honest, I’d expected more from a Golden Bear.” He smirked with a nod toward the mascot on her college sweatshirt.
She stiffened and threw the dilapidated paperback back at him as he left. It hit the screen door just as it slammed shut.
Now that he’d brought their colleges into it, she’d really have to kick his ass. She willed closing time to come faster. She didn’t want to read anyway.
* * * * *
CASEY BREATHED IN THE cool night air and the sweet campfire smell. The dancing flames licked the dark, illuminating the campers as they milled about, talking and laughing. Cider bubbled in a pot on the edge of the fire. They poured it into chipped camping mugs, adding generous glugs of bourbon and passing the bottle around.
She’d changed out of her Berkeley sweatshirt, afraid of looking too collegiate, and put on a green wool sweater instead. She’d even pulled her hair back with bobby pins, tucking the loose strands behind her ears. She had a wool hat tied around her neck in case she needed it later and a light pair of black knit mittens—an old present her best friend from college, Hannah, had made.
She’d banged her thumbs up worse than she thought in the boat. Now the raw patches were wrapped with Band-Aids and the antiseptic wash still stung. That was one lesson Geller would be happy she’d finally learned. She wouldn’t go out rowing again like that without his gloves.
When Ben left the office, she’d been excited to take him up on his offer to play Scrabble with his friends that night. Now, though, she wasn’t so sure. She hesitated in the shadows, watching them pick through the remains of what smelled like potatoes baked in foil over in the coals as some of the guys dueled with the skewers they’d used for kebobs.
It was easy to spot Ben silhouetted in the flickering light. His tall, slender form was bent over the fire, stoking the embers. He rooted for any last packets of foil covered in ash. He passed something to another shape beside him and then stood and stretched his back, tossing the stick he’d been using to the side. He moved so fluidly, there was no mistaking it was him. The way he bent just a drop sideways as he was listening. The way he pulled his hair from his eyes.
The jig was up, though. A seated figure tugged on his jacket and gestured toward the path where Casey stood. Ben turned and his whole body changed, from the compact, contained line bent over the fire to something long and open striding her way.
Out of the corner of her eye, Casey saw a short body with tight leggings and a mass of thick hair slink away toward the tents. Janelle, she thought with a guilty pang.
But it didn’t stop her from joining them around the fire. And it didn’t stop her from accepting a chipped camping mug of cider and bourbon.
“Thanks,” she murmured, inhaling the steam.
“Not yet,” Ben scolded, and dropped a cinnamon stick into her mug. “Okay, now you’re ready.”
She took a sip—sweet, sharp, spicy, warm. The liquor burned nicely as hot fingers spread inside her. She took off her mittens and joined Ben on a log beside the fire, helping Kristi set up two Scrabble boards on the ground. There seemed to be no question that Ben and Casey were going to be opponents. The only issue turned out to be where the last member of their group had gone.
“I think Janelle left when I came over here,” Casey whispered to Ben.
He shook his head, hair falling into his eyes. “Don’t take it personally,” he said, and then announced to the gang, “I’ll go take care of it.”
“No offense, buddy, but you’re not,” Tara said, zipping up a puffy jacket and setting off in the direction of the tents.
“She needed to get over you, like, six years ago.” Jared rolled his eyes, but Ben didn’t rise to the bait.
Casey risked a pleading glance, wondering if she should go. But Ben told her softly to stay, and somehow, she couldn’t make herself get up and walk back down the path to her cabin, alone.
She took another sip of warm bourbon and cider tried not to fret about why Janelle was so upset. It wasn’t as though there was a glimmer of anything between her and Ben. She was almost a decade older than he was. Not to mention the fact that they barely knew each other. From Ben’s friends, it didn’t sound like he was the kind of player who went after girls all the time, even though he had the looks to pull that off if he wanted. He wasn’t about to go pick up the employee at the campground. There was no way it was going to happen.
And although Janelle couldn’t know anything about Casey’s life, she hadn’t come to Bonnet to find a guy. The last thing she was after was some weekend hookup with all its attendant drama to remind her that at the end of the day, she was just some desperate spinster who couldn’t even follow through on her promise to be alone. Nick might have found his one and only, but above all, Casey wanted to be by herself.
“Closest to A goes first,” Ben said, passing her the velvet bag of letters. Casey had been so lost in her thoughts, she hadn’t realized they were already divided into two groups, four playing each board. She pulled out an O and added six more letters to her hand.
Tara came back shaking her head. Janelle wasn’t going to play, but Tara wouldn’t say anything more. At least not while Casey and Ben were around.
If Casey was honest with herself, rearranging the letters she had picked, she knew that from Janelle’s perspective, it hardly mattered that nothing was happening between her and Ben. Janelle had every right to feel awful, pining after someone who only saw her as a friend. And then this weekend, when she thought they might reconnect, he was spending his time interested in some other woman.
Because even Casey had to recognize that Ben had been paying a lot more attention to her over these past twenty-four hours than he would have if the only person at the registration desk had been Mr. Geller.
The thought of Janelle sulking sent a pall over the board, but the cider was hot and the bourbon flowing, and soon everyone was having a good time. Jared’s mishap making popcorn over the fire, an avalanche overflowing the pot, made Casey laugh along with the others. She was completely on the outside of this group and its history, but she leaned in close to the fire and played her letters as Eli kept score, shaking his head every time she laid down a hand.
“Come on,” he groaned when Kristi’s play left Casey open to take the triple word score in the top right corner. “How could you do that?”
“It’s the only place I could go,” Kristi protested as she scrounged around in the bag for the last of the letters. She’d played apart vertically onto Ben’s pasted, and while these opponents weren’t the worst Casey had come up against, she was beating them handily.
She still couldn’t beat Mr. Geller, though—only if he had a particularly rough game and wound up with all vowels. The rest of the time, she was toast.
Casey tried to keep a straight face as she put her letters down. She’d been wondering what to do with the Q she’d been hanging into for the last three rounds, with no U in sight. But Kristi had unwittingly solved her problem. She worked backward, putting the I on the red triple-word square. Eli groaned, his fears confirmed. Next to the I, Casey put down the D. And then, on a double-letter score, her Q.
“Quadi? Caddy? That’s not a word!” Eli sputtered.
“You can’t be serious.” Ben lowered his head into his hands.
The other players stopped to see what was going on. Jared hovered over the board and scoffed. “You’re missing something,” he said. “Like a U.”
Casey shook her head. “Qadi. It’s an Islamic judge. I could’ve also played qaid, a Muslim leader and another word with no U. Sorry, guys!”
“Those are Arabic terms,” Eli continued to protest. “No foreign languages!”
“It’s acceptable in the Scrabble dictionary. Qaid has been in there for a while. Qadi is a little newer but yeah, it’s allowed.”
The corners of Ben’s mouth kept popping up into a smile even as he struggled to maintain his frown. He was clearly enjoying watching his friends get put in their place.
Casey added up the score. “Ten doubled is twenty, twenty-one, twenty-three, twenty-four, tripled is sixty-two.”
Jared let out a low whistle. “You guys got spanked.”
“It’s not a word,” Eli grumbled.
“Eli doesn’t like to lose,” Jared stage whispered so everyone could hear.
“I just think everyone should play by the rules.” Eli’s voice rose at the end.
“You have a dictionary?” Casey asked, but Kristi was already looking it up on her phone. It took a while to load out in the woods, but eventually the signal came through.
“Well hot damn,” she declared, passing the phone around.
Eli grunted and penciled in the score. “Guess that game’s over.” He was coming in second and behind by over fifty points.
“Come on, play until the end,” Casey said. But Eli was already picking up the pieces and putting them back in the bag.
“When I said I’d like to see you try to cream us, I didn’t know you were going to take my offer quite so literally,” Ben commented.
“Never challenge an older woman,” Casey said. “Think of how many more years of experience she has.”
Braise snorted. “She’s got you there, bro.”
“Yeah, so just how old are you?” Jared asked, adding another log to the fire. “If you don’t mind my asking.” He smirked.
“You never ask a lady her age,” Casey scolded.
“Pardon me,” Ben teased, “I had no idea we were in the company of a lady.”
Casey burst out laughing. Jared, however, wasn’t taking any hints.
“Because you seemed to know so much about St. Clair,” he persisted.
The bourbon had made her warm and relaxed, and even with Eli’s complaints about the game, she’d been having fun. A lot of fun. But at the mention of the orange book, her insides squeezed.
“And you want to know how ancient I am, or you want to know what dirt I can give you on Nick,” Casey pushed back, the bourbon making her bold.
“You’re on a first name basis,” Jared observed.
“Are you hoping to have a brush with fame?”
“I was just curious about how you seem to know this stuff about him that apparently every single newspaper, magazine, blogger, and book reviewer has magically gotten wrong.”
“Let it go,” Ben warned his friend, going from hapless puppy to sparring alpha dog in a matter of seconds. Casey was pleased to realize that for all Ben backed down from confrontation when it had to do with his father, he would go to bat for her.
“Don’t trust everything you read,” she said to Jared, but gently. His face was flushed in the glow of the fire and she was reminded of how young he still was.
“So you know him?” he asked, this time more curious than combative.
Casey held his gaze and said, truthfully, “It’s ancient history.”
She was beginning to think, though, that she’d spent far too long roasting by the flames and had no idea how many times her cup had been refilled. Janelle was probably past ready to reemerge from her tent now, provided Casey was no longer around.
“The game was fun and thanks for the cider,” she said, standing up quickly. The whole world spun for a moment and she pretended to stretch her legs while she found her balance again. Must have been more hot toddies than she thought. “I wish you all the best in solving the world’s most pressing problems, and if you want another hike tomorrow, or to take out a boat, or to find any other activities in the area, you know where to find me—starting at ten.”
Ben stood up as if he was going to walk her to the door even though they were already outside. They stepped away from the fire, toward the path that would take Casey home.
“Thanks,” he said.
“For what?”
“For showing us how a Scrabble game is really played.”
“Anytime.”
“And for the advice. From earlier. It’s nice of you to care about how Janelle’s doing. I guess I knew there was something up, but I never wanted to deal with it so I let it sit. Maybe I gave her some kind of false hope.”
“It’s better to clear the air. Don’t push her to say anything. Let her know you’re her friend. It’s always better to have friends. They stand by you when the rest of the boys let you down.”
Ben nodded. His eyes were kind. “Spoken with the wisdom of experience.”
“I’m not an old lady for nothing.”
Ben laughed. “Note that I’m not the one who called you old.”
“Ha, you didn’t have to.” Casey wrinkled her nose.
“I promise I won’t tell Jared how old you are,” he teased as she turned to go.
“Too old for you,” Casey whispered to the darkness as she walked back along the path, letting the woods swallow her whole.
* * * * *
IN HER SWEATPANTS, flopped on the unmade bed piled high with blankets and pillows, she tried not to let Jared’s needling questions send her mind where she really didn’t want it to go.
But it was impossible for anything about Nick not of remind her of that cheerful blonde face and the page at Sullivan and Cromwell she wished she could un-see.
Aubrey Peterson. Summa cum laude from Stanford. Top in her class at Harvard Law. Board of the blah blah blah.
She wondered how long they had been together and if they were even—God forbid—married. She knew she didn’t want to be with Nick, but the fact that this little sprite had usurped her place to become his above all still made her stomach knot.
She shouldn’t have had so much bourbon. Everything felt warm and spinning and numb. She closed her eyes, willing her mind to stop so she could drift off to sleep.
She was already drifting off when she heard knocking. Somehow, she already knew what she was going to find when she opened the door.
Ben’s cheeks were dotted with pink. His long hair hung in his eyes, the stubble growing in around his jaw. He smelled so strongly of campfire smoke, she wanted to bury her face in the crook of his neck and breathe it all in.
She wanted to slam the door in his face, too. She knew she looked a mess in her pajamas with her hair all tangled and eyes rimmed from drinking. What was he doing here?
He held up two black blobs. Casey stared.
“Your mittens,” he prompted, and at last she remembered having taken them with her to the campsite, what seemed like ages ago. “You forgot them.”
“Thanks.” She extended her hand, genuinely glad he’d returned them. She would have been disappointed to lose Hannah’s handiwork after so many years.
She thought there’d be some kind of moment—some buildup or conversation or indication beyond “your mittens” and “thanks” to signal that what she’d been imagining nonstop for the whole day was about to come true.
But there was no magic moment. It just sort of happened. As if it were inevitable.
As if there were no other way.
All of a sudden, his lips were on hers, his mouth hot and sweet with cider and smoke, his strong arms holding her up as her knees threatened to give way.
His tongue searched hers gently, then insistently, and her whole body was liquid, drunk with wanting. She hooked her fingers through his belt loops and pulled him toward her. Even with all the cloth between them, the flannel and fleece, she could feel his body fitted against hers, shoulder to shoulder, hip to hip, his fingers buried deep in her wild red hair.
The kiss was long but over too soon. He pulled away and she looked up into his eyes, unable to make sense of how one kiss could do this much. It was as if everything she was had melted into him. She wasn’t sure where she ended and the rest of him began.
But instead of pulling him tighter as she wanted, she loosened her grip on his waist. The momentary pause had given her time to think again, and it was insane what they had done. Her mind screamed at her heart and everything pounded in her head. What was she doing?
Ben seemed to sense her uncertainty. But he only smiled, like he wasn’t going to push. He kissed her once more on the mouth, softer this time.
“Goodnight,” he whispered, and his breath on her ear sent a shudder all the way down her spine.
He turned and trotted off into the darkness, leaving her to her thoughts. Making sure that the next time she saw him, she’d be able to think of nothing else.
She stood for a long time in the doorway, clutching her mittens, her pajamas slightly askew and her mouth open in shock.