whispered to each other, giggled, then scurried off toward the guest cabins on the opposite end of the resort.
“I think I’m going to have a talk with those kids about manners,” Abi said, her tone so sharp and biting it surprised him. “That kind of behavior is unacceptable.”
Will brushed it off with a wave of his hand. “It happens all the time. It’s normal for kids to be afraid or curious about things or people that look different. It’s human nature.”
For the first time since they’d begun walking she looked up at him. “There’s nothing they can do? About the scars, I mean.”
“They considered doing a skin graft, but they couldn’t guarantee how good it would look. There was talk about infection and complications. I could lose sight in that eye and end up with even more nerve damage. I decided I would rather leave it this way than take my chances. I figure it gives my face character.”
She smiled up at him—a genuine and open smile. Even in the fading light he could see that her eyes were really quite remarkable. What he’d believed was a dull brown upon closer inspection was really a spectrum of browns and greens and yellows.
“That’s a nice way to look at it. Not many people are that comfortable in their own skin.” She gestured past the other cabins, into the woods. “I live over there.”
They turned down a narrow path that led to the large cabin nestled back among the trees. The front porch spanned the entire width of the house, and a wood swing hung from its eaves. The temperature dropped as they walked deeper under the trees, and the scent of pine and moss filled the air. He found himself slowing his steps, prolonging their inevitable parting. She was a little closer now. If he were to sway slightly to the right, he might bump arms with her. For some reason the idea of touching her held an almost irresistible appeal.
“This is home,” she said.
“Cozy.” Despite growing up in urban areas, it had always been a dream of his to live somewhere like this. Somewhere serene and peaceful, away from the hectic pace of the city.
Someday, when he retired maybe.
“The first time I saw this place I fell in love with it,” she said, her face the picture of tranquility, until she glanced up at him and the shutters came down again.
“My face really does bother you, doesn’t it?”
“No, I just…” She bit her lip and lowered her eyes to the ground. “I don’t know what my problem is.”
“You know,” he said as they reached the porch, “when a child is frightened by my face, when they don’t know how to act, I have a trick to put them at ease.”
“You do?”
“Give me your hand,” he said, and she gave him a wary look. “It won’t hurt, I promise.”
Reluctantly she held it out. Her fingers were long and graceful-looking, her nails short, clean and neat. He took her hand between both of his, and she tensed.
“I don’t bite.” Lifting her hand to his face, he flattened her palm against his cheek. First her eyes went wide, then she blinked with surprise. He circled her wrist so she wouldn’t pull away. “It’s okay,” he said. “Touch it.”
Very gently, as if she thought it might sting, she brushed her fingers over the side of his face.
“See, it’s just skin.”
“It doesn’t hurt?”
“I had some nerve damage, so I really don’t feel much of anything. Extreme hot and cold mostly. And pressure.” He gave her the crooked grin that had become his trademark since the accident. “The left side of my mouth doesn’t always cooperate, either. But I have less area to shave, so it does have its positive points.”
She gave him a shy grin. “The skin, it’s almost…soft.”
He let his hand slip from her wrist, expecting her to pull away, but she didn’t. Instead she lifted her hand higher, ran her thumb over the deep scar that split his eyebrow in half.
A tiny wrinkle formed between her brows. “So close to your eye.”
“Yeah, it’s a miracle I didn’t lose it.” He watched her as she gently explored his face. Her skin was tan, and the beginnings of crow’s-feet marked the corners of her eyes, meaning she was probably older than he’d originally thought. Her cheekbones were high, her mouth wide. With a little color for emphasis, her lips could even be described as lush—especially when she smiled. She was neither tall nor short. Neither heavy nor thin.
Individually her features were ordinary, but all put together, there was something about her, something almost…sexy. Which was weird because at first glance she’d seemed one of the least sexy woman he’d ever met.
Her eyes locked on his and her lips parted slightly, and something in the air shifted. He couldn’t even be sure what it was that had changed, all he knew was that he wanted to touch her. He wanted to smooth his fingers over her face, brush his thumb over the softness of her lower lip.
He wanted to kiss her.
Her eyes darkened a shade and her lids slipped down, as if they were too heavy to hold open, and her gaze strayed to his mouth. He found himself wondering what she would taste like, if it would be slow and sweet or hot and wild.
Definitely slow and sweet, he decided. She wasn’t the hot-and-wild type at all.
Unconsciously he lowered his head, and she must have read his thoughts because the spell was instantly broken. The guard she wore snapped back down over her eyes, and she pulled her hand away from his face.
“I—I have to go.” She backed up the porch steps. In the fading light he could see her eyes were like saucers, as if he’d scared the holy hell out of her.
Let her go, his conscience warned him. He’d pushed too far too fast. On the bright side, at least she was looking at him now. Looking at him as though he was the devil incarnate.
A little bit of damage control might even be in order.
“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable,” he told her.
“I’m not uncomfortable,” she said.
She was lying, but he let it go. He thought about shaking her hand, but everything in her stance said to back off.
He tucked his hands back into his pockets instead. “Thanks for keeping me company. I’m sure I’ll see you around.”
“See you.”
He turned and started down the path toward the main building, but he couldn’t help shooting once last glance over his shoulder.
She was already gone.
Abi closed the door and fell against it, holding a trembling hand over her wildly beating heart. Will had been about to kiss her. He’d even dipped his head a little.
She should recognize the signs; she’d seen the move a million times.
