A muffled cry awakened me, a sad whimper lingering in the stillness of the loft. I sprang from the sofa bed. Had I really fallen asleep in my clothes?
I crossed to the guest room door and listened.
There it was again.
“Susanna?”
Her words cut through the darkness. “I need you.”
Damn. Of course she did. I crawled onto the bed behind her and cradled her in my arms. She turned to face me. She had wet eyes, and she was shaking.
“Please, hold me.”
“I’ll be here as long as you want.”
“Thank you, Mark.” She nodded, her eyes studying me in the faint light. “Were you asleep?”
“Yeah, but I’m glad you woke me up.”
Shivers rippled through her, wave after wave. She inhaled and exhaled through her mouth. I tucked the covers around her, slid my hand from her shoulder to her back, and rested my head near hers on the pillow.
Was this too much? Too little? I didn’t know for sure and hoped that she would be brave enough to correct me if I was wrong.
Her breaths slowed from puffs to normal. The shivers faded to nothing. Maybe I hadn’t totally screwed this up.
“Better now?” I asked.
“I am.” She touched her fingers to my cheek. “In my world, when a couple lies on a bed like this together, we call it bundling. It’s acceptable as long as a blanket separates us.”
“You’re in the twenty-first century. We can sleep together any time, any way, any reason—and no one cares.”
“Except, perhaps, for your grandmother.” She smiled. A slow, beautiful smile.
“True.” I smiled, too. “Go to sleep. I won’t leave.”
She kissed me once, then rolled over, facing away.
I pulled the covers to her shoulders, wiggled closer, and draped an arm across her waist.
Her breathing settled into a rhythmic pattern minutes later.
I lay beside her, staring out a window high in the wall. I could see stars, a faint glow of the moon, the occasional sway of a pine tree. I felt weighed down by feelings. Exhaustion from three weeks of waiting. Aches from my first—and hopefully last—fistfight. Pride and gratitude at the way my grandparents had taken Susanna in. Fear of the huge responsibility I had accepted by bringing her here.
But weaving all those feelings together was love. I loved her. Susanna made everything else worthwhile.
It took me a lot longer to fall asleep than it took her.
* * *
The smell of cinnamon tried to tease me awake, but I didn’t give in, not ready to relinquish my hold on a really great dream. I stretched out a hand and hit nothing but blanket.
My eyes blinked open. I was in the guest room, in the middle of the bed, alone. It was early in the morning. No sunlight spilled through the high, round window, but the sky did have the faintly gray glow of pre-dawn.
I sat up, rubbed my eyes, and strained to hear something. Anything. From the kitchen came the sounds of pans and muffled voices. I slid off the bed and took the stairs two at a time.
Susanna and Gran stood in the kitchen, wearing aprons, huddled over a bowl. While Susanna watched through narrowed eyes, Gran lifted a lump of dough and dumped it on a sheet of waxed paper.
“Be gentle with the dough,” Susanna said with authority, “but do not fear it. Trust its texture to your hands.”
“Hey,” I said, pulling a tall stool out from the bar and dropping onto it. “What’s going on?”
They looked at each other and smiled. Gran nodded and returned her attention to the dough.
“We’re baking,” Susanna said. “Norah taught me how to make biscuits.” She put one on a plate and pushed it over.
“Susanna is teaching me how to make a pie crust from scratch.” My grandmother smashed the dough flat with her fingers.
“Great,” I said before biting into the cinnamon biscuit. I chewed and then stopped in awestruck reverence. The biscuit was masterful.
“What kind of pie?” I mumbled around a stuffed mouth.
“Apple and peach,” they said together, and laughed.
“I’d be willing to sample a slice of each.”
Susanna’s gaze met mine, her eyes shining. “No doubt you will receive the chance.”
Footsteps thudded down the hallway from the back of the house. Seconds later, my grandfather appeared, already dressed in jeans, a golf shirt, and sneakers.
“Why are you up so early, Granddad?” I asked.
“The race,” he said with a scowl.
The reminder punched me in the gut. I pretended to misunderstand. “What race?”
“The Carolina Cross-Country Challenge.” Granddad’s eyebrow shot up. “The race you’ve trained for and talked about for the past four months. The race that starts in two hours. We need to leave soon if we’re going to make it.”
“I’m not going.” It hurt to say those words.
Susanna frowned at me, fists on hips, arms covered with flour to her elbows. “Why not?”
“I have other plans.”
“Other plans?” Granddad’s voice boomed in the small space. “Sherri made me promise to be your cheerleader. I assure you, young man, I didn’t get up this early for my health.”
Wow. That was cool. Really, really cool.
“Thanks, but I’ve changed my mind.”
Susanna leaned on the counter and lowered her voice. “You must go. I insist.”
She had to be nuts. Did she really think I’d abandon her today? Even if I had been training for this race for months?
“You need me.”
“Please go.”
Was I still dreaming? “You want me to do this?”
“Indeed. It makes no sense for you to miss the race because of me.” She reached across the counter and clasped my hand. “I am baking with Norah, and you want to race. We can do this at the same time.”
“But it’s your first day.”
“Yesterday was the first. Today is the second.” Her smile held pure joy. “Please ride in your race. It’s important to me.”
Okay, so it was important to me, too but, oddly enough, not as important today as it had been a month ago. Mountain biking had given me strength and endurance. It had given me what I needed to save Susanna. Everything else was a bonus.
“It isn’t necessary. Not anymore.”
“Then do it because I have asked you.”
It was hard to wrap my brain around what she was saying. Alexis broke up with me because I wanted to race. Susanna was pushing me to race when I was willing not to go.
“I got pretty banged up yesterday.”
“Enough to fail?”
“No.” I was too sore to put in my best time, but not sore enough to completely fail. “It’s too late to go. I haven’t got my gear with me.”
Granddad snorted. “Then stop mooning over the girl, and let’s leave. We have two hours before the race starts and ninety minutes before you have to report at the race meeting. There’s plenty of time to drop by your house if you’ll shut up and leave.”
I’d made the decision last night not to race. But everything was ready to go at home. The bike and my gear had been organized for weeks. Granddad was right. There was enough time. I felt a jolt of adrenaline.
“Are you sure, Susanna?”
“I am sure.”
Damn. How could she be so perfect? I rocketed off the stool, flew around the counter, and yanked her into my arms.
“You are amazing.” My voice sounded rough even to my own ears.
She blushed.
“You’re beautiful and wonderful and brave and…” I ran out of words, so I spoke with action. I kissed her, my hands pressing against her back, soaking up her warmth through the thin shirt. It was a good thing her stays were part of the past, although she would definitely need a modern replacement, because she had seriously nice…
Granddad cleared his throat. “Excuse me, but your grandparents are here. Not that we don’t remember the days—”
“Charlie!” Gran growled.
My hands dropped away from Susanna. “Sorry about that.” I nodded at my grandfather. “Okay, let’s go.”
He exhaled loudly. As he drew even with Susanna, he tugged her braid. She reached for his hand and gave it a pat.
I stared in awe. Granddad used to do that all the time to my Aunt Pamela. Had he even realized he repeated the gesture with Susanna? I glanced at Gran. She was dabbing at her eyes.
“Gran, take care of her,” I said.
“You have nothing to worry about, Mark. We’ll be fine.”
“Okay. See you soon.”