clever and nonchalant the moment Krista opened it. He saw a curtain flutter and heard the lock turn. His anticipation increased and he felt himself begin to smile.
The door opened, but his words caught in his chest. All Will could do was stare.
Krista’s hair was down, waving past her shoulders like a dark cloud. The porch light deepened the color of her eyes and made the skin on her face look almost translucent.
“Will, are you all right?”
He nodded woodenly.
“Then, what are you doing here?” she asked.
“I had to get out of that apartment before it swallowed me alive.” Was that his voice, so hazy and far away?
“That’s understandable,” she said. “You always were a man of action. Come on in.”
The soft rustle of her long purple shirt brought him out of his befuddled state. Taking a deep breath, he mentally kicked himself. So much for sweeping her away with his nonchalance. He had an almost overwhelming urge to drop his crutches and take her into his arms, to grasp her shoulders and pull her up to him for a long, drugging kiss. He wondered if she’d consider that off limits, too.
Finally he cast her what he hoped was a beguiling grin. “I thought about taking a walk, but decided to go visiting instead.”
“How many people do you know in Pennsylvania?” she asked.
“Counting myself, two.”
Shaking her head, Krista began to laugh. When she’d first seen Will standing on her front step, he’d looked bewildered, shaken. Why wouldn’t he be? Even the most self-confident, rugged men would be rocked by the kind of injury Will had sustained.
“Nice place.”
She watched as he took in the interior of her home, following his gaze as it strayed over textured wallpaper in shades of burgundy, gold and green, lighting on her overstuffed sofa and chairs and lacy curtains. He didn’t stop until he’d taken in the computer in the corner, Tommy’s radio-controlled car next to the couch and the baby toys she’d gotten out for her best friend’s triplets to play with in the morning.
“Did you decorate this yourself?” he asked, his voice low.
She made a sound that meant yes, then said, “Decorating magazines would call this room French country.”
“I’m not surprised,” he said softly. “You always had a passion for anything French.”
Krista looked directly into his eyes, noticing that the panic she’d seen when she’d first opened the door was gone. This was more like the Will she remembered. Catching her lower lip between her teeth, she was glad that she’d been able to help him chase the dragons away.
“French restaurants are my favorite,” she said softly.
The stubble on his chin looked almost black in the faint light as he took a step closer. “And French bread,” he added with a half smile.
She crossed her arms and held his gaze as she said, “And don’t forget French toast.”
His crutch clunked against the coffee table as he took another step closer. “And then there’s always French kissing,” he said huskily.
This time, Krista didn’t add anything.
“Do you remember how much you used to love that, Krista?”
Her eyes drifted down to his mouth, and warmth drifted through her body. He had sensuous lips, masculinely shaped and boyishly pouty. Her skin heated in spite of the thin material of her shirt and jeans. That didn’t keep her eyes from trailing down his neck, over his wide shoulders and powerful arms, over his chest and trim stomach. Rather than detract from his powerful physique, the crutches somehow added to his mystery. Krista doubted that anything could alter his allure.
“I remember a lot of French things,” she said. “Tommy’s favorite is french fries.”
“He’s still young.”
Before she knew it, laughter bubbled out of her. “Oh, Will. Would you like to sit down?”
“I’d rather kiss you.”
His honesty was like a wick, his gaze a lighted match. Together they stoked a fire within her, a fire she’d thought had been extinguished a long time ago. That fire had burned out of control once. Krista didn’t plan to lose control again.
He moved toward her. This time she took a step back.
“Tommy’s sleeping right down the hall.”
“I wasn’t planning to make a lot of noise.”
His statement brought her eyebrows up. He used to make plenty of noise, and they both knew it. Holding out her hand to halt his forward movement, she said, “Will, a lot has changed since the old days. I have a different life now. I have a son and a home and work I enjoy. We both know the attraction is still between us, but if all you wanted was sex, I think you would have stayed with Miss July, don’t you?”
He was leaning on his crutches, his eyes narrowing a little more with every word she said. He looked at her so long and so hard that she wondered if he could see inside her mind. Taking a deep breath, he shrugged and tilted his head to one side. After a long moment, he finally said, “Her name wasn’t really Miss July.”
“Oh, really? What was her name?”
“I forget.”
This time her laugh was more like a snort, but it relieved the pressure inside her and lightened the moment. His little jest told her that he understood what she was trying to tell him. He understood that she couldn’t let herself get involved with him, not now, not after she’d come so far. He understood, and she was grateful.
“Since I’m the only person you know in Pennsylvania, could I offer you a cup of hot chocolate?”
Will clenched his teeth, feeling a muscle move in his jaw. Her statement about the reason he’d come to Pennsylvania hit home. She was right. He hadn’t come to her because he wanted to start up where they’d left off when they were young. He’d gone to the Fourth Street Rehab Center because he wanted her to help him get his strength and stamina back. He knew she wouldn’t have had to agree to be his physical therapist. Yet she had. It was his turn to be grateful.
“Hot chocolate sounds great, as long as you promise to talk to me while we drink it. Those walls in my apartment really were closing in on me.”
She turned so quickly that her oversize shirt fluttered behind her before settling around her thighs once again. “Hot chocolate and friendly conversation coming right up.”
He assumed the fact that she continued talking meant that she expected him to follow her. He trailed after her, propping himself against the counter in her U-shaped kitchen.
“That claustrophobic sensation you’re experiencing is perfectly normal. People who are paralyzed or suddenly lose their sight or hearing often experience that kind of panic,” she said as she added water to the teakettle and
