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ses, Justin overpowered everything, with his long lean body, his spicy scent, his warmth...
“This is nice.” He laced his hand with hers.
“It’s one of my favorite places to be,” she admitted, wondering if she meant in the hammock or his arms.
“In my arms?”
Had he read her mind? “In the hammock,” she assured him, but wasn’t positive she’d told the complete truth.
Which was a little scary.
A lot scary.
There was a light breeze that put the slightest chill in the air, making the warmth of his body next to hers more appealing, and she wrapped her arm around his waist, holding him tight, pretending she didn’t notice the way his abs contracted beneath her fingers.
“Cold?”
Not really, but after moving nearer what could she say? That she was trying to get closer even though their bodies were already pressed side by side?
“I can go inside and get that quilt you keep on the back of the sofa if you want me to,” he offered.
“I’m fine,” she assured him, her fingers tracing a pattern over his stomach.
“Tell me about that quilt. It looks old.”
Did he really want to talk? Because she didn’t.
“It is old. It was my mother’s. Her grandmother made it for her.”
“You’ve mentioned your mother before—that she gave you the necklace you lost. I’ve noticed the photo you have of the two of you in your living area. What about your dad?”
Now she really didn’t want to talk.
“What about him?”
“What does he do? Where does he live? Why are there no photos of him?”
Riley fought the stiffening of her muscles and the urge to tell Justin to mind his own business. “I don’t know, I don’t know, and he left when I was four. Any photos that existed of him were gone long before I was old enough to know what they were.”
“Sorry.”
“Don’t be. I had a great mother and a great childhood. She worked hard. We were poor. But we never went hungry or without love. I feel blessed. It could have been so much worse—like with the boys in your Wilderness Club.”
“I’m glad your mom was able to take good care of you.” He paused. “What happened to her?”
Riley didn’t feel like talking about her mother or the past, but she answered him. “She passed in an automobile accident, not long after I graduated from university.”
“I’m sorry, Riley. She sounds like she was a great lady.”
“She was. She’d have liked you.”
She’d have adored him. Kindhearted, smart, handsome—what more could a mother hope for, for her daughter?
“Oh? Tell me more.”
“She liked handsome men who talked a good game.”
He strained his neck the better to look at her. “You think I’m handsome?”
