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"About what?"
"About spanking you to feel better."
"Is that what he wrote?"
"No. And don't ask me to tell you what he did." He framed her face, thumbs on her lips, his eyes roving over her face. She was still trembling and he noticed, his hands beginning to slide away. She grabbed his wrists.
"Please don't stop."
"You're cold. I'm getting your shirt."
"I'm not cold."
His eyes came back to her face. He left one hand on her cheek, but he bent and picked up the shirt. Putting it back on her, he guided her hands to the sleeves. There were plenty of incidental touches as he did it, steadying her as she found the armholes. When he pulled the T-shirt back down over her body and smoothed it, he molded his hands over her taut nipples so her small curves pressed into his palms. He didn't pause there, but he didn't rush it, either. At her waist, he curled his fingers in her belt loops, holding her.
"It's time for you to go inside, Sam. Really. Let me think things through, all right?" He lifted one hand and touched her cheek. "I'm getting you dirty. Smudges on your face."
"That's okay." She wanted to say she was sorry, but she couldn't truly be sorry for a minute of what had happened with Geoff. She tried for the next best thing. "Can I make you some lunch? I picked up some Boar's Head at the grocery and that fresh sourdough bread you like. I could make you one of my world-class sandwiches. There are fresh tomatoes and kettle chips."
His eyebrows, thickets of copper and brown hairs, lifted now. "You think food will help?"
"My mother told me that when it comes to men, food always helps."
"I am hungry."
"When are you not?" She smiled, but when he managed only a halfhearted smile in return, she pushed past his defenses and wrapped her arms around his waist, putting her cheek on his broad chest. "I love you, you know that, right? I'm in love with you. With both of you."
His hands had tightened on her shoulders, maybe to ease her back, but at that, they stopped, got even tighter. He muttered an oath. "It doesn't work that way."
"Yeah, it does. It does for us." She slipped away and moved toward the house, forcing herself not to look back. She'd done what she could . . . without fixing anything.
Once inside, she remembered what Geoff had said about what he'd written on her back. Until after he sees it. She hurried to the bathroom. The smudges Chris had left on her cheeks made her smile. Pulling the shirt off her arms again, she let it collar her neck so she could twist around and see the reflection in the mirror. A smile spread across her face as she read the words backward.
She's ours, dumbass. Kiss her, and you'll see. I dare you.
Chris might have told her to leave him alone for now, but something in his eyes said he might not want to be left alone indefinitely. There were overlapping qualities to Chris and Geoff, things that complemented each other as well as her own needs. But they were also very different men.
When she brought him his sandwich, she forced herself to go back inside, but she watched through the window as he sat on the concrete bench by the aviary and ate. If Geoff was eating, he was multitasking; reading, watching TV or typing on his laptop. Whereas Chris gave his full attention to digestion, chewing slowly, his gaze following what the birds were doing in the aviary, or the movement of the clouds overhead. He had a tendency to stretch out right after a meal and take a fifteen-minute nap, which he did today.
Lying back on the stone bench, one work shoe braced on the ground, the other on the bench, he bent his arm over his face to shade his eyes as he closed them. She drew her feet up on the window seat, linking her arms around her knees as she watched him. His other hand curled in a relaxed position on his stomach, the breeze riffling his dark brown hair across his brow. His skin was tan even in winter, because his job had baked it into his flesh. The sun never disappeared for long in North Carolina.
He always had a scattering of cuts and scrapes, because pruning back overgrown holly bushes or pulling weeds and maintaining equipment with his bare hands would leave marks. She'd given him some vegetarian ingredient udder balm ointment, informing him it was what farmers and other laborers used to keep their hands healthy. He'd finally started using it, so the cuts healed more quickly, though a few were deep enough the scars remained.
Simple things, simple thoughts. She should get up and do something. She had some bills to pay, a book to read, a tear in a pair of slacks that needed mending. But she usually did that kind of thing near Chris when he was home. She did that because she loved his company, not because she had to do so. She was a well-rounded person. She had her yoga and took classes and workshops to expand her mind. Since she'd been living with Chris and Geoff, those educational experiences had covered everything from stained glass creation to using essential oils for better health. She went out with Flo and other friends. She wasn't dependent on Chris or Geoff's presence to entertain herself.
But today she was like Chris. She only wanted to focus on one thing. Only wanted to do one thing. Suppressing a tight smile at the double entendre, she rose. She'd go get the slacks and mend them by the window.
When she returned, he'd woken from his nap and was working in the yard again. She mended the slacks, read her book and did her bills, all where she could watch him. She ventured out a couple of times to bring him more water and snacks and retrieve the sandwich plate. She'd hoped their short interlude might have eased his mind, yet he was still working at a much more grueling pace than he usually set for himself.
He'd used the dirt from the pond hole to create a berm by their small vegetable garden. At the base he'd inserted several cinder blocks so they looked like the openings to small caves. When she bent to examine them, she saw he'd sealed the back openings so the square spaces would remain dirt free.
She liked frog houses and had talked about creating a fairy garden. He'd told her about a month ago he'd build her a berm under the sheltered canopy of one of the older trees that would accommodate both. Once he had that set up, she could start designing it how she liked
.
She straightened to see him watching her, but as she started to smile and say how she liked the results of his work, he put his head down and went back to it. Trying to ignore the painful twist of reaction in her chest, she made herself go back into the house. Left him to his thinking.
She'd had several texts from Geoff through the day, checking in with her. He must be busy, because they were short things. Raspberry-blowing emoticons, and aliens with antennae zooming across the screen. However, as if he could sense her mounting frustration--or maybe he'd finally had a lull in his work--the one she found on her phone now included words.
