Page 49 of The Other Half

“Yes. You’d be doing me a favor. It’s right over there.” I pointed to the huge plot I’d planted with everything I could find at Jerry’s Flowers this spring. It had been therapeutic. Not to mention my mother told me she’d skewer me if I didn’t keep up on it for her when she visited.

“Wow! I will take you up on that. Vegetables are freaking expensive!”

“My garden is your garden.”

“Thanks, Jake.” That soft smile melted me like the slice of butter sliding down the side of my corn cob.

We ate our meal and watching her cut the kernels of corn off the cob sent me swaying back over to the side of the line where I wanted this to be a date. She looked so cute struggling with the corn.

“You can just bite it off the cob you know.”

“Then it gets stuck in my teeth.” Her face puckered. Then she smiled. There in the middle of her teeth was a piece of corn.

“Is that so?” I asked, choking on my chuckle.

“Yep.”

“Interesting. Because you have a little something right there in your teeth. Oh. Shocking. A piece of corn.”

With saucered eyes, she covered her face and turned away. When she turned back her ivory skin was the color of the hot coals. “Oops.”

Our dinner consisted of more laughs and when we were done my stomach hurt. This time it wasn’t from eating too much food like we’d done last night. It hurt from laughing.

“Can I help with dishes?” she asked when we stood up.

“Nope. Beautiful thing about grilling is I just need to toss out the tin foil and I’ll take care of the plates.”

“You sure?”

“Yep. Let’s grab the bottle of wine and go watch the sunset.”

“I’ll get the cups.”

After setting the dishes in the sink, I pressed my hands on the sides of the counter and took a deep breath. I was barely hanging on. Being this close to her without touching her, tasting her, was torture. Every laugh, every damned breeze that came by and wafted her perfume had me desperate to pull her into my arms. And that smile. Even with the corn in her teeth she still looked so beautiful. Being with her felt like tumbling down a cliff, desperately grabbing for rocks or vines to stop my plummet. But did I want to fall?

I walked to the porch and saw her and Hank sitting down on the dock. Trying to steady my nerves, I held that bottle of wine for dear life and walked across the yard to join her. When I got there, she had her shoes off and her bare feet dangling in the water. The amber color of the sky was already transforming into an arresting blend of oranges and pinks.

“It’s so beautiful,” she said while I settled beside her. Kicking off my own shoes, I rolled up my jeans and joined her, dipping my feet in the lake. Hank flopped down at her side, resting his head across her lap.

“It is. I come out here and watch the sunset most nights. But with a beer instead of wine.” I shrugged then poured more wine in her glass.

“It’s so peaceful here. Door County in general. Everything moves at such a different pace.”

“Do you like it? Some people love it. Some people can’t wait to get back into the fray.”

After a moment of thinking she looked up at me. “I love it.”

Her eyes fell to my lips. A soft breeze blew a piece of hair across her face and I desperately wanted to reach out and brush it away, capturing her face in my hands and finally tasting those lips that tempted me every time they moved. Eyes mirroring my desire looked up at me. The sunset danced inside them as they pulled me in, and I felt myself give up my futile attempt to stop this fall. The last fingers of my determination let go of my lifeline and I leaned toward her.

Cassie pushed toward me and I reached out, sliding my hand across her face. Leaning up, her lips brushed against mine. When they touched, I felt the free fall start. The dam of emotions inside me burst open as I pulled her lips into mine. Passion exploded between us while I let my lips wander free. One taste. One touch. I was hers to command. Her arms wrapped around my neck, and she dissolved into me.

Pulling her body against mine, I deepened our kiss, and with it, all the things I’d tried to bury bubbled up to the surface. Raw and exposed, the power in our kiss ignited me from the inside. But with the heat of the flames flickering between us, memories of the scalding pain she could bring resurfaced. As we became lost in each other, flashes of my pain broke through and I found myself scraping my nails on the side of the cliff, desperate to stop the descent.

As amazing as it felt to have her lips devouring mine, as much as I wanted to sweep her in my arms and never let her go, the weight of us crushed down on me. Eventually she would hurt me. Crush me. Destroy me. I wasn’t ready. I wasn’t ready to go through this again. I couldn’t.

Clawing at my lifeline, I begged my lips to release hers. I pleaded with my arms to let go and my legs to take me away from the pain that awaited if I let myself continue the free fall with her. When I was certain her hold on me was too strong and I would never be able to break free from the feelings for her that held me captive, I pushed back, breaking our kiss.

“I can’t. I’m sorry,” I breathed, barely able to exhale the words I didn’t want to say. The words I had to say. “I’m not ready.”