LOVE ON THE MOUNTAIN
Peace and quiet—that’s all Connor Pierce
wanted from the rented cabin on Crimson Mountain. Yet the caretaker turned out
to be lovely April Sanders—a total distraction. As were the two little girls
she was caring for. Connor’s plan to forget his painful past soon detoured into
giving the ladies a Christmas to remember.
Being named guardian of two motherless
girls has upended April’s world. Add to the mix a mysterious, brooding writer
claiming he wanted to be left alone while going out of his way to bring a
little joy to the girls, and she has quite the quandary. April had counted
herself out of a happy ending. But maybe Santa still had a few surprises up his
merry old sleeve…
“Thank you for
taking care of me these past couple of days.”
She sniffed.
“It’s my job.”
He acknowledged
her words with a small nod, or maybe it was the bitterness creeping into her
tone that he recognized. “How are Ranie and Shay?”
“Do you really
care?”
“Yes.” He
sighed. “Even though I don’t want to care. The other night...on the highway...it
affected me. Hearing that scream when the car slid on the road and the
headlights moving closer.” He paused and a shudder ran through him. “I’m sorry
I disappeared, but I wasn’t fit company for anyone after that.”
“It’s fine.”
She tried to hold on to her anger even as it slipped through her body like
grains of sand through her fingers. She needed that anger. It was safer with
this man. Safer for her heart. “You don’t owe me an explanation.”
“I want to give
you one anyway.” His hold on her gentled and he rubbed his thumb over the
sensitive flesh on the inside of her wrist. “I’ve missed you, April. I’ve spent
the past three years alone, and suddenly I’m lonely without you. I stopped
caring. I didn’t think I had it in me to care, and I’m still so turned around.
Every little thing sets me off and I can’t stop it. But I also can’t stop
wanting to be near you. It doesn’t make sense.”
She closed her
eyes against the onslaught of emotions that poured through her at his words and
the gentle pressure to her skin.
“Do you know,”
he asked, shifting so close now that she could feel his breath against her
hair, “that I listen for the door to close after you leave and rush down to the
kitchen because your scent lingers after you’re gone?”
She huffed out
a laugh that sounded breathless to her own ears. “Are you saying I smell?”
“Like lavender
and vanilla. I’ve made an idiot of myself the past two days following traces of
you around the house.”
“Why are you
telling me this?”
“Because I want
you to know what you do to me, even if I should stay away. It’s better for both
of us if I turn around and walk back to my bedroom until you’re gone.”
She waited a
moment, but he didn’t move. “You’re not walking.”
“Hell if I can
make myself go.”
“Don’t go,” she
whispered. Slowly, as if she were gentling a stray animal, she lifted her hand.
Her finger brushed the prickly strands of his dark beard, and his lips parted.
“I forgot to
shave,” he muttered.
“Too busy?”
He took a
breath, released it and then nodded. “Writing.”
“Connor,” April
whispered. “That’s wonderful.”
He shrugged and
looked away. “Who knows how long it will last. But the words are coming. So
damn many, drowning me with their force. It’s like...”
She pressed her
palm to his cheek, gratified when he leaned into it. “Like what?”
“Like it used
to be.” He said the words softly, as if they were an apology. April could feel
the tension in his body and wished, just for a moment, she could transfer his
pain to herself. Give him a few seconds of remembering what it was like to live
without the weight of guilt and sorrow bearing down on him.
“Look at me,”
she said, moving closer to him, pressing into his warmth. His arms came around
her waist, his hands splayed open against her back. She could feel their heat
and strength through the thin cotton of her pajama shirt. So much talent flowed
out of those hands. The worlds he created within his imagination and put on
paper for readers to discover. “You have a gift, Connor Pierce.”
“It’s not—”
“Don’t say it.
Whatever you’re thinking.” She brushed her lips over his. “Those words are in
you. The stories you write are part of you.”
“How can they
still be there when I’m dead inside, April? They were part of my life before,
but now I’m—”
“You’re here,”
she told him, and held her hand to his chest. His heartbeat was strong and sure
under her palm. “With me. Now.”
“You make me
feel things I’d thought I lost the capacity to feel. You make me want things—”
His voice broke off as he drew in another deep breath. He leaned down until
their foreheads touched. They stood that way for several long moments, her lips
just grazing his. She breathed him in and it felt like she was pulling his
essence into her lungs. Like he was part of her. A part she thought she’d lost
after the illness and heartbreak that had changed who she was inside.
“I’m sorry I
can’t be the man you deserve,” he whispered. “I’ll hurt you and girls. I hurt
everyone—”
“Not now.” She
pressed her mouth to the base of his neck, tasted the salt on his skin and
wanted more. “This moment is ours.”
He claimed her
mouth then, kissed her until the feel and taste of him was all she knew.
Everything else burned away in the flame that was her need for him. He pulled
her closer, if that was possible. Their tongues tangled and his hands skimmed
under the shirt and up her spine, sending tingles as they moved. His kiss was
demanding and consuming, and every inch of her body burned for him. For more.
His lips
trailed over her jaw and he nipped at the sensitive flesh of her earlobe. “Will
you stay?”
The simple question
rocked her. How was it that such a longing could have been buried inside her
and she’d never guessed? Even at her most in-love-and-alive, she’d never felt
anything quite like the force of her desire for Connor. Still, she shook her
head. “I have to go back in case the girls need me. If Shay wakes up...”
“I understand,”
he said, pulling his hands from underneath her shirt.
No, her body screamed. Don’t let him go.
“Come with me,”
she told him, lacing her fingers with his.
He
stared at her, his eyes unreadable once more. She hated that he could slip
behind his mask so easily. She wanted to break through until she saw every bit
of him, good and bad. She wanted to know him and, in return, allow him
access to all the secret places she kept hidden from the rest of the world.
Michelle Major grew
up in Ohio but dreamed of living in the mountains. Soon after graduating with a
degree in Journalism, she pointed her car west and settled in Colorado. Her
life and house are filled with one great husband, two beautiful kids, a few
furry pets and several well-behaved reptiles. She’s grateful to have found her
passion writing stories with happy endings. Michelle loves to hear from her
readers at www.michellemajor.com.
No comments:
Post a Comment