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“Tell me more about your mom and dad,” Tasha asked as they waded through waist-high grass. “What made them want to foster so many boys?”
Every time he tried to shift the conversation to her, Tasha redirected it back to him and his family. But for the first time in his life, he was slightly uncomfortable talking about his parents. He used to be so sure their story was pure perfection from start to finish. Until his recent conversations with his mother had made him question that assumption.
He needed to talk with his mom again. Needed to find out if he was making something out of nothing. But he’d never felt the need to confront his mother about anything before. He’d always thought he was brave, bold. But every time he contemplated tackling the issue with his mom, a part of him questioned whether it would be easier just to go with the status quo, to tell himself it was his parents’ business, not his.
At last, he answered Tasha. “I was about eleven or twelve when they started taking in my friends. We were already buddies in school, and everyone used to hang at my house. My parents were really easy to be around.”
She took a bottle of water from the pack, drank for a long time, then licked her lips, leaving them glistening with invitation. “You mean because they were kind?”
“Yes.” He grinned. “And because my mom makes the best chocolate chip cookies and brownies.”
They passed a couple with two toddlers who were doing a great job climbing the hill.
“My parents loved kids,” Daniel said. “They would have had more, but Lyssa didn’t come along until I was ten. Then they started taking in the Mavericks.”
Tasha turned, walking backward. “Were you okay with that?”
Before he could reply, she tripped on a rock and he grabbed her arm, steadying her with his body. “Whoa there.” She was close enough for him to smell her hair and the saltiness of her skin. Close enough to see her pupils dilate. Close enough for everything inside him to turn to liquid fire. “You okay?” Daniel asked.
“I’m fine.” But she definitely sounded breathless. “I should look where I’m going.”
A part of him wished she wouldn’t, if only to give him the excuse to hold her again. As it was, she felt too delicious to let go.
When he finally forced himself to ease away from her, the hot imprint of her body remained.
As they started climbing again, he answered her question. “Whenever Mom and Dad wanted to bring one of the guys in permanently, they always sat me down and discussed it. They never forced anything on me. But even if I’d resisted sharing my parents’ time with more than just Lyssa, I knew how bad, how brutal their home lives were. I couldn’t wish that kind of existence on any of them. It tore my folks up when one of them came over with bruises. Or when they wouldn’t talk because something bad had happened.”
“I’ve never known anyone who cares about other people as much as you and your parents and friends do.”
“What about your father?” He knew he was pushing her, but he hoped his sharing would make her feel she could do the same. “He wasn’t cruel to you or your brother, was he?”
She started walking once more, head down, her expression hidden from him. “I always thought I was lucky to have such a great dad.” Her sorrow was easy to hear, to feel, as she spoke. “But he never asked me or my brother how we felt about moving again.”
Abruptly, she stopped in her tracks. “We’ve got to cross that?” She pointed to the log across a stream ahead. Swollen with the snowmelt, the water rushed below.
Before he could reply, however, she straightened her shoulders and started across. Walking as if it were a tightrope, one foot in front of the other, she teetered for a moment that made his breath catch, then found her balance again and darn near dashed the rest of the way.
He caught up on the other side. “I should have remembered about that crossing.”
Taking him totally off guard, she cupped his cheek. “Actually, I like that you push me past my boundaries and think I can handle whatever you’re going to dish out.”
He knew exactly what he wanted to dish out—the kiss of a lifetime. But just then a couple of guys rounded the bend and passed them, practically leaping across the log as they headed down the trail.
“Showoffs,” she muttered, making Daniel laugh, before she took off again at a fast clip.
Whether it was because she was trying to show the other hikers that she was every bit as good on the mountain, or because she’d sensed how badly Daniel wanted to kiss her and was intent on evading him, he didn’t know.
The trail took a turn, and suddenly the alpine lake spread out before them, clear as glass, the reflection of the mountains like a painting on the water’s surface.
“Wow.”
She didn’t have to say more. Its majesty was why he loved this place. Why he wanted to bring her here today—so that she could experience the same peace and sense of awe it gave him.
He took her hand, needing to touch her again, and led her around to a flat rock where they could spread out their picnic. She seated herself, and he settled beside her, opening the pack to pull out an insulated bag with ice packs.
He tore off the lid on the first plastic tub. “Crackers.” Another lid. “Local Brie and goat cheese.” Then a smaller container. “Pepper jelly that’s great with both.”
She looked impressed. “And you said Matt was all about the food.”
