he might jerk away. But after several tense seconds, he eased back and she shut her eyes in relief.
She wasn’t offering him much, just human touch and kindness. But then, she never had given him what he needed. She’d tried, Lord, how she’d tried, but he’d always pushed her away.
Except that night at the river, when he’d finally lowered his guard. The time he’d shared his heart, along with his body. But afterward, he’d built up his walls again and pretended it had only been sex. But it had been love—deep, soul-baring love, at least for her. And she would have sworn he’d felt the same.
The minutes stretched in thick silence. Then, without warning, she felt the muscles of his back flex and his tension rise again.
“He had a damn DNR in place,” he said suddenly, his deep voice rough with anger. “An order not to resuscitate. Hell. I had to sit there and let him die.”
She tightened her grip, sensing the horror, the pain he’d endured. Wade lived in constant action—flinging himself into the slipstream, leaping into forests to battle fires. Sitting by helplessly while Norm died would have driven him out of his mind.
But Norm had made that decision and there’d been nothing Wade could do. “He’d been in a lot of pain,” she said. “He probably felt it was time to go.”
Wade retreated into silence. Minutes lengthened, along with the shadows in the room. Finally she heard him exhale. He understood, but needed time to process the grief.
And she’d done all she could. She eased her hold and stepped back. He turned to face her and she saw the despair in his eyes.
Sorrow clawed at her chest. She wanted so badly to take care of this man, to erase the grief from his heart. She’d give anything to have that right.
But she didn’t. She was just an old friend. She stepped even farther away. “Are you hungry?”
“No.” His voice was gruff and threaded with sadness. “But thanks.”
He peeled off his jacket and tossed it on the wing chair near the dresser, then sat on the bed and removed his boots. When he dropped back on the bedspread and threw his arm over his eyes, she knew she ought to go.
But she couldn’t bear to leave him yet. Her chest full, she picked up the lap quilt from the wing chair and spread it over his legs. Then she perched beside him on the bed and cradled his free hand in hers.
What more could she say? What could ease the pain of losing a father? She shook her head, knowing it was futile to try.
So she just sat there and held his hand until his breathing deepened and slowed. Until his grip slackened and she knew he slept in the darkness. She stroked the scars along the back of his hand, the calluses on his palm, felt the strength and power in his fingers.
And remembered other stories Norm had told her, of the terrible risks Wade had taken. How he’d jumped the most volatile fires and worked in the steepest terrain. Because he believed he was expendable. That no one would miss him if he died. That no one cared.
But he’d been wrong.
His arm fell back against the pillow and she gazed at his hard, shadowed face. Her chest tightened and swelled with longing. She’d loved this man her entire life. He’d been everything to her, from a childhood hero and teenage crush, to the man she’d yearned to marry.
She’d given him her virginity, along with her heart. She would have given anything if he’d loved her back, if they could have spent their lives together.
But he hadn’t, and she’d shelved those hopes long ago.
But not the memories.
Her gaze traced a path down the rugged planes of his face, and she dragged in a shaky breath. Maybe it was the moonlight, the way the smoky beams cast shadows over his face. Or maybe she was simply too drained, too weary to fend off the emotions tonight. But she couldn’t stop the images from flooding back, the wild need swamping her heart.
It had been hot, so hot, and the soft rush of the river, the languid buzz of insects permeated the night. She’d stood beside him on the wooded towpath, gazing out at the swirling water, far from the party downstream. The sultry heat slugged through her blood. Moisture beaded her skin.
And an awful weight pressed on her chest, blocking out everything except that one thought. That he was leaving in the morning. That she might never see him again.
That she only had this one chance, this last night, to do what she’d always dreamed.
She’d turned to him then. The moonlight teased the angles of his masculine face, shrouding his dark eyes in shadow. She dragged at the sweltering air. The buzz of the insects grew louder.
And she moved deliberately closer.
He stilled and his dark gaze locked on hers. Neither spoke. The damp woods rustled around them. Tension pulsed through the air.
She knew she was crossing a line, an unspoken boundary between them, but she’d wanted him, fantasized about him for so long. And sometimes, when those whiskey-brown eyes seared hers, she’d suspected he wanted her, too. But he’d always kept his distance and she’d never had the nerve.
Until now.
Now she had this one night to make those fantasies come true.
Hardly breathing, she reached up and ran her hand across his bristled jaw. His rough skin burned beneath her palm; the erotic texture thrilled her.
But he grabbed her wrist and blocked her. “Erin,” he warned, his deep voice flat.
She nearly lost her nerve then, and she flushed. But the heat in his eyes gave her courage. She sensed that he wanted this, wanted her, but wouldn’t let himself touch her. That somehow, in his need to protect her, he’d placed her firmly off limits.
Her heart stuttering hard against her rib cage, she shook off his hand and inched closer. Much closer, until her breasts skimmed his chest and his ragged breath heated her face.
“Wade,” she whispered. “Kiss me.”
His jaw turned rigid. His fierce gaze burned into hers.
“Please,” she whispered again, her urgency rising. She couldn’t bear it if he turned away.
“Erin…” His voice sounded strangled, tortured.
“Just a kiss. Just…” His gaze scorched her lips. Cicadas screamed in the air.
Then he lifted his hands and her breath stalled. And he blazed a trail along her jaw, stroking her neck, her throat with his thumbs, sending ripples of excitement splintering through her.
The air around them stilled. Her pulse ran wild in her throat. And then he tugged up her chin and angled his head, and moved his mouth over hers. Slowly, tenderly. As if she were something fragile, something precious.
As if he loved her.
Her lungs seized up. Her eyes fluttered closed and her heart refused to beat.
But then he probed the
