Love on a Spring Morning (17 page)

“Sure.” She smiled. “I’ll go after dinner and come back once they’re asleep.”

“You don’t need to.”

“But I will.” She reached out, squeezing his forearm. “At your speed, and on your terms. And just between us, I promise.”

Slipping past him, not wanting him to see the heartache mirrored on her own face, she joined the kids at the table. He went out the side door to the barbecue, returning a minute later with a plate of burgers.

Dinner sped by in a flurry of questions. Why didn’t Holly eat bread? Were tomatoes a vegetable or a fruit? What was her favourite hockey team, and then why didn’t she know that the Kings were
not
the team to cheer for? Before she knew it, they were clearing the dishes and Ryan was making threatening noises about homework and bath time. She thanked the kids for having her over, gave Maya a hug, and took her almost empty salad bowl back to the house down at the lake.

She left her heart behind in that kitchen.

And as she put the small leftover salad away in the fridge, she thought for a second that she might not go back for it.
You have no place barging into their life
, she told herself.
They’re just surviving, and you could break them all just by being there, and then gone.

If Ryan asked her to stay, she’d find a way. She had a film shoot scheduled for the fall, but it was just six weeks. And after that…

But she’d always be coming and going.

And she’d always be a secret.

How Lynn died…Ryan would never want his children exposed to the scrutiny of Hope Creswell’s world, where paparazzi would go nuts for the tragic death of a woman in the wrong place at the wrong time. Then the sordid details of her marijuana use would come out. And the whispers of a secret disease she’d kept from her husband.

It wouldn’t take long for paparazzi to wonder why she was lingering in the small Canadian town once filming was over. Even though she wasn’t high-profile enough for TMZ to hound her regularly, she’d rate enough for
something
. Ugh. Another reason for her agent to start pursuing New York stage options for the next year. She loved acting, but being a celebrity was entirely overrated.

She avoided Emmett, or maybe he avoided her, and when Ryan texted that the kids were in bed, she slipped out again, meeting him on the porch.

“Do you want to come in?” he asked quietly after kissing her hard on the mouth. There was a lot poured into that kiss, and she couldn’t unpack it—didn’t want to try, lest she get something wrong. Get her hopes up. Or have them dashed. Both equally bad.

She was walking a tightrope over a pit of snakes, it felt like.

Didn’t stop her from closing the gap between them and hugging him tight. But it did prevent her from accepting the invitation to be somewhere more private.

“It’s nice out here…” She pointed to the steps. “And that way we might actually talk.”

“That’s not nearly as much fun as what I was thinking,” he muttered against her temple, and she grinned.

But when they sat, he was the first one to launch into it, and he didn’t hold back. “I’m sorry about earlier. Somehow you being here at night is different than during the day, with my kids.” He took a deep breath. “You’re good with them.”

“They’re fun.”

He laughed. “That was them being on their best behaviour, if you can imagine.”

“I can. I was a kid once, remember. Although I missed out on the sibling fun.”

He laughed. “I was the middle of five kids. It was a bit chaotic.”

“Wow.” A small pang of envy twinged in her gut. “Are you close with them now?”

He shrugged and nodded. “Yeah. My brother and I are pretty tight. My sisters…they’re sisters.” His quiet laugh warmed her as she watched him think about his siblings. “And now they’re all mothers, including the youngest one, who’s still practically a kid herself. I mean, she’s the same age I was when I had Jack, but that was somehow different. Sometimes I feel so old.”

“You’re not.” She nudged his shoulder with hers. “Or if you are, you’re super cute for an old guy.”

He shot her a disbelieving look.

“What?”

“I have trouble wrapping my head around that. You thinking I’m…”

“Cute?” She grinned. “So cute. Also handsome, rugged—” He laughed, interrupting her, and she giggled before continuing. “When I first met you, I thought you looked like a lumberjack. But cute.”

“There’s that word again.”

“You’re totally lumbersexual.”

“What the hell is that?” He dragged his lower lip between his teeth as he pulled her close.

“You know, like metrosexual? But the opposite. Lots of plaid, rocking a beard, knows how to handle an…ax.”

“Jesus,” he growled, cupping her cheek. “You make it sound dirty.”

“If I’m lucky,” she whispered, parting her lips for him. Their tongues tangled, breath rushing faster as she rose onto her knees, her fingers sliding over his stubbled cheeks. She clung to him as he deepened the kiss, but pulled back when he tried to tug her into his lap. “Wait…”

His chest shuddered as she slid back to sit next to him, and he didn’t say anything at first.

But she didn’t say anything, either. She didn’t want to put into words why she’d thrown on the brakes again.
You might think you’re the needy one, Ryan Howard, but I’ve got you beat.

“You deserve more than this,” he finally said, his voice thick and heavy.

What? “No…” God, that was so not what she wanted him to think. She was scared of being hurt, but he was still the best thing to happen to her heart, ever. “I don’t expect anything, Ryan.”

“You keep saying that. No expectations.” He cracked his jaw as he worked it from side to side, clearly considering his next words carefully. She was glad—this felt precariously close to the last two times they’d slid apart. “But you
deserve
more.”

“You’re the nicest guy I’ve ever kissed, Ryan. If we can only have a secret fling, or whatever this is…I’m never going to say no to that. I’m not saying no right now. I’m just…nervous, maybe.”

He nodded a few times, but she got the feeling it was more a processing nod than one of agreement. “I’ve never done the casual sex thing,” he finally said, his voice low. “Before Lynn, I had two girlfriends, not serious, but steady.”

Steady
. Such a sweet word. She had no idea what it was like to trust someone enough with her insides to go steady. Until now. Oh, the irony.

And she wanted to trust Ryan, and would, even knowing the risks. But there was a strong chance that he was going to break her heart. Maybe knowingly, maybe not. Either way, falling for him meant willfully dodging around a dozen warning signs.
Construction Zone
.
No Traffic Allowed. Beware of Emotionally Locked-up Men. All Hearts Past This Point Belong to Someone Else.

It was the last one that she thought of, constantly. She felt no jealousy toward Ryan’s wife. The poor woman died far too young, and her family was struggling because of it. Holly’s only thought about Lynn Howard was that she’d been blessed with a beautiful family.

She traced a circle on his knee, her index finger rubbing against the worn denim, faded white. “I’ve never really had serious relationships, not like a marriage, but I’ve never done the casual thing, either. Seven. That’s my number. My longest relationship was almost two years, and only that’s because we were both working so much on opposite ends of the globe that we never spent enough time in the same place to realize we weren’t a good fit.”

“How many of those guys treated you right?”

“They all treated me better than most men treated my mother,” she whispered. “I’ve had a fucked-up model to follow. And my standards are both low and high at the same time.”

“If you don’t want to do this…”

“I do. But maybe not like this. Not when your kids could wake up.” She kissed his cheek. “I don’t want you to ever regret what we do.”
I don’t want to be the cause of your regret
.

“Okay.” He laced his fingers through hers and looked up at the stars. “My in-laws will be back soon. They’ll be staying with us. I might be able to get away at night then. We’ll see.”

Lynn’s parents. The weight of that landed squarely on her shoulders, pushing the last trace of arousal out of her body.

“I need to tell you something,” she said quietly, leaning against his arm. “Before dinner, while you were grilling, Maya brought up Lynn, and Jack got upset.”

“Ah.” He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry about. I’m just telling you because…” She laughed a little. “Gavin said I should, to be honest. He said, ‘Daddy doesn’t like secrets.’ And I know that’s true. So I thought you should know. It wasn’t a big deal, really.”

“Okay, thanks.”

She sat up and turned toward him. He was staring into the distance again.

“Can I ask about her?”

A guarded expression dropped onto his face, but he nodded slowly. “Sure.”

“There are rumours. I try not to listen to them.”

Like shutters slamming closed, he dropped his gaze to the floor. “Most of them are true.”

“She was sick?”

He nodded jerkily, and her heart stung like she’d just been whipped.
 

“I’m sorry. I don’t want to bring up anything that’s too upsetting.”

“What do you want to know, Holly?” He blinked up at her, his face pale now, and she inched closer again. Not too close—just friendly-like.
I’m on your side, Ryan
.

“Nothing. I just…she was your wife. And the mother of your children. If you ever want to talk about her, talk about the good things…” A few unexpected tears slid down her cheeks. She was mortified that she was crying, because this wasn’t about her. She took a deep breath and tried again. “I’d like to hear about her. That’s all.”

He shook his head, not looking at her. “It’s too hard.”

“Okay, forget I said anything.” She swallowed hard, trying to get ahold of her reaction. Exhaling roughly, she changed the subject. “Are you going to come to the bonfire this weekend? Olivia said she’d invited your family.”

He nodded. Acknowledging the invitation? Or would he actually come out?

“It should be…well-catered.” She couldn’t bring herself to say fun. It wouldn’t be, not really.

He huffed a humourless laugh. “That sounds like code for no marshmallows.”

“Probably not.”

He shook his head, laughing more freely now. “Okay, we’ll bring our own.”

— FIFTEEN —

T
HEY shared a few more kisses that week, and a lot of fleeting looks as their paths crossed, but he didn’t invite her over again and she didn’t wander up the lane. There was an unspoken agreement that they needed to pace themselves, because it wouldn’t take much to have them rutting on the floor of his kitchen like animals.

Holly’s pulse thumped hard in her neck as that visual burned itself into her brain. Ryan, shaking with need, holding himself above her. How wet she’d be for him, welcoming him into her body. The weight of him as he’d thrust into her, claiming her.

Her cheeks heated to a million degrees and she twisted her face into her pillow. It was late, and she’d had a long day. Joshua had been a toddler on the set, throwing tantrum after tantrum. She needed to sleep. Her personal trainer’s voice echoed in her head.
We age while awake. Divas get their eight hours.
It was so unfair that men looked better and better with age.

Another image flashed in her mind. Ryan with greying temples. Still big and broad. A few more eye crinkles. She pressed her legs together and swallowed a moan. She needed to get laid. They needed a night together, but she couldn’t ask him for that. Her nipples hated her for not skipping up the lane and knocking on his door.

Turning out her lamp, she rolled onto her stomach, sliding her hand between her body and the mattress. She rocked her pelvis, lightly teasing herself as her fingers danced around her clit. Already she was breathing hard and soaking wet. It wouldn’t take much, and she wanted to hang on to this moment, this fantasy of Ryan in all his different possibilities.

When her phone vibrated on the nightstand, she almost didn’t roll over.
Leave me alone
, she thought, thinking it must be Liana or her mother. But at the last minute she reached for it, and then her heartbeat picked up even more.

What are you doing?
She bit her lip as she re-read the words beneath Ryan’s name.

Hands shaking, she dialled his number.

“So you’re not asleep.” His voice rumbled in her ear, making her chest all tight and achey, and deep in her belly, her womb clenched. The effect this man had on her was lethal.

“Not exactly, no.” Her words rushed out of her on a single breath and she closed her eyes, every part of her hanging on for his response.

“Where are you?”

She smiled. “In bed.”

“Me too.”

Oh, goodness. Heat swirled through her like the liquid wax in the top of a candle. Burning hot, freezing into a solid at the edges. She felt brittle and melty at the same time.
Fuck it
, she thought. “I’m naked.”

Rough breathing sounds were his first response. They worked for her. She trailed her free hand down her stomach, pausing just above her sex. His next question, low and urgent, almost made her pass out. “Are you touching yourself?”

“I was. I was thinking about you, and how close we’ve come a few times…” She sighed, pressing the heel of her hand low in her belly to keep from stroking lower.
Not yet
. “How good you’d look above me.”

“I have a fantasy about you, too,” he said, and the hitch in his breath as he admitted that made her dig her heels into the bed, tensing up all over. “It’s the middle of the summer and you’re spread out on a blanket in a field somewhere. Naked. You’re gorgeous.”

Middle of the summer
. She’d be gone by then. She closed her eyes again, refusing the tears that prickled there. “I can feel you, pressing my thighs open.”

“Are you wet for me, Holly?” He exhaled, then groaned. “Touch yourself for me.”

“I am,” she whispered as she gave in to her need, sliding her fingers through her folds. “Are you…?”