Hidden Deep (13 page)

We hadn’t so much as held hands since Lad’s just-friends edict a few days earlier. It wasn’t easy. After the kisses we’d shared, I couldn’t manage to sink back into the platonic coma I’d been living in before. I was so ready for something more, but this was the most I could have of him for now. It frustrated me that Lad wasn’t struggling with it.

“I had no idea anything like this existed out here. How is it you know more about my family’s land than I do?” I said.

“Oh, I know everything about these woods.” He waded onto the flat top of the rock and sat in the water, the falls overhead providing an ideal backdrop. He turned to me with a mischievous gleam in his eye. “My people have been here a very long time, Ryann. Actually, my family was here long before your family was, so you could say that
you
are the squatters, not us.”

He grinned at me, his eyebrows raised in a what-do-you-think-of-that-one expression, and pushed off, propelling himself down the natural waterslide, whooping and yelling. “Now let’s get wet!”

I joined him, and we splashed and played like children. At one point I jumped onto his back, wrapping my arms around his neck, attempting to pull him under. He shrugged me off, laughing, and twisted out of my grip. We ended up face to face. His hands went around my waist, apparently without his planning it, because he snatched them back and held them up in front of him as if I had a gun on him.

I looked up into his wide-eyes.
Oh—it’s not so easy for him after all
. My heart began crashing like the waterfall hitting the rocks around us. Never taking my gaze from Lad’s, I placed my palms on his firm abdomen, relishing the feel of his hot, wet skin. His muscles contracted, forming a
Men’s Health
cover six-pack.

His breathing stopped.

I waited for something to happen—this would be the perfect moment for him to cave and admit he saw me as more than a friend.

Lad shuddered and stepped back, turning and diving under the water. He swam a few feet away and climbed out to make his way to the top of the rock slide again.

He’s just going to ignore it.

Excitement converted to liquid frustration in my veins. Suddenly I’d had enough swimming. I waded over to the side. My red tank top was sopping, stretched, and saggy. If I’d been wearing a bikini underneath, I would’ve stripped the shirt off without a second thought and let it dry on some branches. All I had on underneath today was a pink and red striped bra with lace trim and a tiny pink bow in the front center. Not something a just-friend should see.

But as I climbed the rocky bank I had a wicked idea. It had gotten his attention before.
Can I really do it?
I didn’t know if I had it in me. Then I thought about my mom settling for comfy-couch Phil and made my decision. Let’s see Mr. Unmovable Platonic Friend stay indifferent to
this
.

With my back turned to Lad, I slowly peeled the wet tank up over my head and arms and hung it from a low branch. I shimmied out of my shorts, exposing the matching panties. I had no idea if he was even looking, but I sure hoped so.

I turned back around, purposely not noticing Lad, searching for a spot on the warm rock to stretch out and sun-dry. As I got settled, I finally allowed myself to glance up.

Lad stood stock-still in the water, staring at me, his arms hanging at his sides, his fingers closed tightly into fists. His face was severe, and his green eyes glowed with intensity. I hadn’t really seen it in person before, but I recognized the feeling behind the look anyway. It was lust.

Now my heart didn’t thump, it was more like the rapid tapping of a sudden spring storm on the tin roof of Grandma’s cabin.
It’s working
. I forced myself to hold Lad’s gaze.

When he finally spoke, his voice was a low growl. “What are you doing?”

I made my voice as nonchalant as I could manage. “Drying off. I’m through swimming.”

“You took off your
clothes
.” He sounded like he was in pain.
Goody.

“Yeah, they were soaked.” I gave a little shrug. “That’s not a problem, is it?”

He stayed silent a few seconds, his jaw working tensely. “You shouldn’t do that around me.”

“Why not? You took off your shirt. And I’d do the same thing if I were swimming with any other
friend
.”

“Ryann.” He spoke through his teeth, barely moving his lips.

“La-ad.” I dragged the word out into two syllables, my tone adopting a bratty note.

That’s when he realized I was tormenting him on purpose. He strode through the water, marched up onto the rocks, grabbed his own dry shirt, and threw it over me. “Put it on,” he ordered.

“Say ‘please.’” I smiled up at him sweetly.

He only scowled and turned his back. “Let me know when you’re decent, and we’ll get going.”

Oh, so now he was mad? Not nearly as angry as I was. Didn’t he know he was torturing me, too? Every time we were together it was a physical strain to keep myself from reaching out for his hand or sifting my fingers through his hair. I’d had about enough.

“Fine.” I stood and pulled the shirt on roughly.
Dang it
. It smelled just like him. More torture.

I snatched up my wet clothes, and he followed me to the path, talking to my back. “I’m sorry, Ryann. You know the situation.”

“Yes. You’ve made it
very
clear. We’re just friends. So I’m not sure what your problem is with seeing a little skin.” I stopped walking and turned to face him. “Do you not want to do this anymore?”

He blinked several times, looking taken aback. “Of course I do. I just want to spend time with you without—” He took a short breath and blew it out. “Yes, I still want to see you.”

“Why?” My tone was defiant.

Lad stayed silent, regarding me with a helpless expression. I turned and started down the path again, my heels digging into the dirt. I really needed to ask myself the same question—
why?
I wasn’t sure there was much of a point to this. I couldn’t stand much more, and now that the show-him-what-he’s-missing trick hadn’t worked, I was out of ideas.

We trudged along, the clouds of silence between us becoming as ominous as the dark ones forming in the sky overhead. By the time we reached the wooded edge of my yard, it had started to rain and the temperature had dropped at least twenty degrees. Maybe it only seemed that way because of the chill between us.

I turned to face him before going in. “Lad?” It was the first word I’d spoken in a half hour.

“Yes?” He stepped close to me and took one of my hands in his, folding it up against his chest, dipping his forehead down to meet mine.
Dang
, he was making this hard.

“You need to think about something, and be honest with yourself. What do you really want? Because I know what I want. And I’m not sure you can give it to me.”

Actually, he
could.
He just wouldn’t.

It took all my strength to pull my hand away and walk into the house without looking back. I was almost glad I wouldn’t be seeing him again for several days.

We’d been planning a family road trip to Atlanta for the long Memorial Day holiday. Starting a new job at the beginning of summer was kind of crummy, but at least my mom’s new boss had encouraged her to go on and take the pre-planned vacation. It would be her last time off for a long time. Since I’d just started at The Skillet, Dory didn’t have me down for many hours anyway.

Our plan was to set out Friday and drop off Grandma at her sister-in-law Daisy’s house in Birmingham on the way. Mom and I would stay with her closest friend, Shelly, who’d moved from Deep River to an Atlanta suburb fifteen years ago. They were like sisters, and Mom couldn’t wait.

Though all my friends had planned school’s-out trips to Florida or would spend time at the lake, skiing and swimming, Mom thought I’d appreciate the chance to get away and explore a big city. It was guaranteed to be better than sitting around here, moping over my lack of a love life. I was doing enough of
that
tonight. The rain and plunging temperature outside didn’t help.

Mom was at another visitation, and Grandma was at her Thursday night quilting club meeting. I was supposed to be packing, but feeling mopey, I’d put on my coziest sweatshirt and yoga pants and curled up on the couch instead with a bowl of microwave popcorn and all the romantic comedies basic cable had to offer. I was channel-surfing, hoping for something with Sandra Bullock or Julia Roberts at the very least when the doorbell rang.

I peeked out through the sidelight window and opened the front door. Nox’s dark hair glistened with raindrops. He grinned at me and shook his head like a Labrador, purposely giving me a cold shower.

“Ew!” I squealed, scooting away from him. “What are you doing here, goofball?”

“Providing a public service—boredom relief. We got a call about an emergency situation at this address.”

I laughed. “Actually, you’re just in time. We’re about to lose the patient, I think.”

Nox stood outside the doorway, looking down at me, an expression on his face that I couldn’t quite read.

“So, really… do you mind if I come in? You’re not busy?” He looked past me into my house, scanning for—what—a guy? I should
be
so lucky. “I mean is it okay I came by?” he said.

Was
it okay? I thought about it for a second.

Why the hell not?
It wasn’t like I had a
boyfriend
, right? I flashed back to Lad’s rejection today at the waterfall and stepped back, opening the door wide. “Sure. Come in. It’s pretty gross out there, huh?”

Nox nodded and stepped into the foyer, handing me the basket he was carrying so he could remove his dripping jacket and hang it up.

I lifted the lid to look inside. “So what did Red Riding Hood bring us?”

Nox laughed, taking the basket back. “No peeking there, nosy. It’s a surprise.”

He walked into the living room, looking around. I was amazed at the way he filled it up. Other than my father, I’d never actually seen a man in the room before. It had never been feminine and frilly—it was a rustic house—but Nox gave the place a cologne-ad-ski-lodge air. Weird. The house I’d known since birth had been changed somehow by his being here.

He set the basket on the floor and pulled out a quilt, spreading it in front of the stone fireplace. Then he scattered a few throw pillows from my sofa over it. He straightened and looked at me expectantly. “Okay, get comfy.” He gestured to the pallet he’d made.

I sat down on the edge of one sofa cushion instead. “That’s okay. I’ll just sit up here. Want to watch TV?”

I reached for the remote, but Nox grabbed it first and set it on the mantel behind him.

“No. Come on now—play along. Please?”

I felt kind of funny about it, but I crawled to the floor and sat cross-legged on the quilt, dragging a pillow into my lap.

Nox lit the fireplace, and when it got going, he joined me on the quilt, reached into the basket, and pulled out a paperback copy of
The Princess Bride
.

“
What
are you doing?”

Ignoring my question, he started reading aloud. I shook my head and smiled in wonder.
Who does this?
Just when I thought I couldn’t be any more dumbfounded, Nox reached back into the basket and pulled out a bunch of big red grapes.

“Lie down,” he instructed.

“What?”

“Lie down,
please
. I brought snacks, and they can only be properly enjoyed while reclining. Rainy Day Entertainment 101.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “You—are nutty. What are you going to do? Feed me?”

“Only one way to find out.” He plumped up a pillow on the blanket and waited.

Finally, I rolled my eyes and shifted positions, lying back with my head on the pillow. Nox pulled a plump grape from its stem and held it over my mouth until I laughed and opened up.

“Ready?” He waited for my nod and dropped the grape onto my tongue.

When I finally stopped giggling, I chewed and swallowed it. He gave me another, this time letting his fingertip linger on my lower lip after inserting the grape. I was no longer giggling. The place where he’d touched my mouth felt very warm. The fruit was sweet and juicy, and the whole situation was… it was weird. But also fun. And it felt decadent… and sexy.

I didn’t know exactly what Nox was up to—two days ago, he’d asked if we were “friends” now, and I’d agreed.

But looking up at his strong beautiful profile in the firelight, with his shiny dark hair falling in his face and a smile curving his lips as he read… well… let’s just say if he ever
did
actually want to seduce someone, it wouldn’t have been a bad approach.

Nox stopped reading abruptly and looked up from the page to focus directly on my eyes.

Oh my goodness. What must my expression look like to him with
those
thoughts going through my mind?
Thank God he couldn’t hear them.

I darted my eyes away and focused on the fireplace. “Keep going. That was a good—”

Nox’s mouth covered mine before I could finish the sentence. And then the weight of his body was pressing me into the quilt-covered floor. He was so big, so warm, so… everywhere. He felt amazing. And it felt amazing to be
wanted
. The pleasure of it all paralyzed me for a second.