18

Rebecca tiptoed past the couch where Ray slept, on her way to the kitchen. In the week since she’d agreed to marry him, he’d been a constant guest, sleeping on her couch on more than one occasion. Usually the sight of him stretched out there made her smile. Today she frowned. The time for him to go home had arrived.

She cringed, surprised at the vehemence of her own thoughts. Her hands trembled as she turned on the coffee pot then checked and watered her plants. When she finished, and the coffee was done, she poured herself a cup and plopped down in a chair at the table. The strong, hot brew did little to ease the chill in the air much less the one in her soul.

The beauty of autumn with its warm, golden leaves had been lost when November blew in with fierceness, bringing with it freezing temperatures, rain and snow. Rebecca stared out the kitchen window oblivious to everything but the gray sky and the ache in her heart. An ache brought on by...what?

She shook her head and tried to figure out exactly why she was in such a foul mood. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes. The moment she did, memories and visions of her dreams the night before filled her mind, the clarity of which caused a frisson of need to curl in the pit of her stomach.

Maybe it was because she was happy and content; maybe it was because Jim’s kiss didn’t affect her the same way Ray’s did. Rebecca felt the familiar spurt of guilt at that thought and wallowed in it for a minute before shoving it aside. Maybe it was because she’d been alone over a year and was just lonely. Whatever the reason, the need was great.

And it was all Raymond’s fault. Ever since that kiss in the tree, he’d been the perfect gentleman. His kisses were light and friendly, not once getting out of hand, which only seemed to add to her exasperation. She never dreamed she’d be tempted to forget every scrap of morality she’d worked so hard to instill in her children.

She glared up as the object of her frustration ambled into the kitchen looking well-rested and incredibly sexy. His sandy-colored hair was tousled, and a day’s growth of beard shadowed his cheeks, but his smile was as bright as the light in his eyes.

“Good morning,” he said, reaching for a cup and pouring himself coffee.

She glared at him and grumbled something unintelligible.

“Guess not, then,” he murmured. “Coffee?”

She shook her head and placed a hand over her cup.

He put the pot back on the warmer, picked up his mug, walked over to the table, and stroked a hand down her hair. “Is something wrong?”

“I didn’t sleep well.”

Ray trailed his lips across her cheek. “Sorry to hear it. Is there anything I can do?”

“Go home.”

“What?”

“I need some time alone. I’ll fix you some breakfast. Then it’s time for you to go home.”

The temperature in the room lowered another degree. “You mean like ‘don’t call me, I’ll call you’ go home?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“No, not in those exact words, but everything about you is screaming at me. What’s wrong? Unless I’m mistaken everything was fine when we went to sleep last night, so what’s going on?”

“I just told you, I didn’t sleep well. I’m asking you to respect that and go home so I can get some rest.”

The coffee suddenly tasted like ashes in his mouth. Ray spun back to the sink and dumped it out. “Don’t bother with the breakfast, Rebecca. I get the hint. I know when I’m not wanted around. Known it all my life,” he muttered, angry at the quick stab of fear and insecurity that pierced his heart.

She pushed back from the table with such force, the chair nearly toppled. “Oh, please, don’t give me the poor, mistreated-little-boy attitude. When this whole ordeal started, you promised you wouldn’t sulk or pout if I said I needed some space. That’s all I’m asking for here.”

“It’s more than that.” He strove to keep his voice calm. “You glared at me when I walked in the kitchen, grumbled when I said good morning, and froze up when I tried to kiss you. Now I want to know what is wrong.” He lowered his voice a notch. “Besides, I thought we had more than just an ‘ordeal’.”

Rebecca pressed her fingers to her eyes then rubbed her temples. He reached out for her, trying figure out what had made her so angry, but she stepped back.

“Don’t touch me. I can’t think when you touch me. I just need to be alone for a little while. I told you I didn’t sleep well last night. I’m in a bad mood, and I just want you to leave me alone.”

Ray felt the rejection like a slap in the face. “Fine, Rebecca. If that’s the way you want it, I’ll leave.” He marched into the living room, tugged on his shoes and slammed out of the house.

He’d gotten to the top porch step when he realized he didn’t have his keys or wallet. They were still on the coffee table where he’d put them last night. He rotated on his heel with a muttered oath and went back inside. The sound of her sobbing ripped at his heart. Unable to bear it, he walked back into the kitchen and pulled her in his arms despite her protests.

“I thought you left!” she wailed.

“I did. I had to come back in and get my wallet and keys.” He ran his hands up and down her back in a soothing gesture. “Talk to me, Becca. Don’t shut me out. You want to scream and fight, we’ll scream and fight. You want to take a swing at me then take your best shot. Whatever it takes. Just don’t shut me out.”

“I don’t want to scream and fight.” She raised clenched fists to his chest and pushed out of his embrace. “I just can’t stand this tension!”

“What tension?” He shook his head, confused. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Another look had him backing up in consideration.

Her face was flushed, taut, her eyes fierce. Clenched into tight fists by her side, her hands trembled. “I’ve never been so frustrated in all my life.”

A powerful need to take her in his arms swept over him but Ray hesitated when Rebecca buried her face in her hands and wept. God, help me! I’m only human here. Give me wisdom. Tell me what to say. Show me what to do.

By divine revelation, he understood—even if Rebecca didn’t—that her frustration stemmed from the need to be held, cuddled, loved, and from unrelieved desire.

A need he had exposed. A need he shared. With a silent prayer for strength and self-control, he reached for her. Keeping his voice low and gentle, he said, “Come here, Becca.”

She shook her head and took another step back. “No, Ray. I…”

He closed the distance between them and cupped her cheeks in his hands, cutting off her protests.

“I’m just going to hold you,” he whispered, his lips brushing over her forehead in a tender caress.

“That only makes things worse.”

“It won’t. I promise. Let me show you. Let me hold you.”

When she didn’t refuse, he swung her up in his arms, carried her into the living room and settled on the couch with her cradled against his chest.

Gentle fingers tangled in the thick mass of her hair while his lips caressed her forehead, eyes, mouth and cheeks.

Rebecca remained stiff and tense despite the tenderness of his embrace.

“I love you,” he whispered. “Intimacy doesn’t always mean ending up in bed,” he reassured her. He saw the skepticism in her eyes and kissed them closed. He stroked her back and shoulders. “Relax. Trust me,” he urged. His arms remained gentle, his voice soft, and his words tender as he whispered husky endearments of love and adoration.

Tears welled in Rebecca’s eyes and rolled slowly down her cheeks. “I don’t understand what’s happening to me,” she said, her voice hardly more than a hoarse whisper.

“There’s nothing wrong with needing to be held, Becca. That’s what I’m here for. Can I ask you something?”

He hesitated when she stayed silent, and continued when she nodded. “Was your husband affectionate?”

She stiffened. Ray hurried to calm the demons of doubt before they took root in her mind. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to. I’m not trying to judge him, you, or your marriage. I just want to know where our similarities and differences lie.”

“I’m not sure I know what you mean by affectionate.”

Ray chuckled. “What I mean is, was he a touchy, feely kind of guy?”

She smiled, shook her head. “Not like you. He was gentle and kind and I always knew he loved me, but he wasn’t as demonstrative about it as you are.”

“Does that bother you?”

“It never has before,” she admitted, “but I guess it does bother me to think something was missing in our relationship.”

“Having it now doesn’t mean something was missing in your relationship. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, I don’t ever want you to compare our love to the one you shared with Jim. But please, don’t ever fear talking to me. I want to know how you feel, what you’re thinking. If you just need to be held or want to be cuddled, ask. It’s a sure bet I’ll ask it of you when I have the need.”

Rebecca lay in his arms. As he spoke, he could feel her tension drain away. “I love having you in my arms, Becca.” He cupped her cheek in his hand, pressed her face into his shoulder in a tender hug. “Now, isn’t this much better than fighting or being alone?”

She nodded. “Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

“Have you decided if or when you’re going back to work?”

He grinned. “Why? Are you getting tired of having me underfoot?”

“I’m just not used to having someone around all the time.”

He laughed. “I’m not sure. I’ve thought about it, but as much as I enjoyed my job, this is the time of year I always dreaded, the cold, the rain, and the snow. And now that I really don’t have to work—”

“But what will you do with yourself all day?” She lifted her head and looked at him, obviously horrified.

His grinned at her with mischief. “Anything I want.” He rolled to his feet and offered her a hand-up. “You still want me to go home?”

She smiled, ran her fingers through his hair. “Yes, but not for the same reasons.”

“OK. When can I come back?”

Rebecca smiled, and he was relieved to see she felt better.

“The door is always open,” she said. “Now, how about some breakfast before you go?”

“I’d love some,” he admitted, following close on her heels as she led the way into the kitchen.