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“I don’t want to hurt you,” I managed a rough whisper through my now thready breathing.
“I understand.” He kissed me, a soft warm pressure without expectation. I relaxed against him on instinct and he kissed me again. These were no sloppy blowfish kisses from our teens, these were slow and tantalizing with a hint of so much more.
I pulled away after another moment, my breathing harsh, and looked down. My body trembled, but I couldn’t tell if it was from the cold or from Noah.
He lifted my chin with one finger and smiled into my eyes. “I’ve wanted to do that the second I saw you at Crowberry’s store.”
“That would have been awkward.” I gazed at him, my brain bouncing like a pinball toward tilt. I knew I needed to break away and get back to the house, but my boots seemed glued to the ground.
He chuckled. “True enough. The old buzzard would have stroked out.”
Still trembling, I managed to take a step back. “I, um, should probably get back. I’m sure there’s something that needs doing.”
Noah crinkled his face in a frown and I thought he was going to contest. Instead, he stripped his coat off and put it over my shoulders. His warmth and scent were immediate and I almost sighed with pleasure. “You look cold, Hanes.”
“Don’t call me that. But thank you.”
He chuckled again at my half-hearted reprimand from another time. Not that it didn’t still stand. As kids, Kluh-hah-nie had easily been mangled into Kluh-hane-ie, thus Hanes underwear. I don’t remember who started it, but I’m sure they’d thought they’d been the pinnacle of wit. “I guess we both have stuff to do. I have all the drinks, but I could also shuttle some of the food if your grandmother and aunt need help.”
“I doubt they’d say no.”
We headed back toward the trail, me watching my step to avoid another incident. Surface roots rippled across the entire path, and I was mildly surprised I hadn’t taken an earlier header during my impromptu sprint.
“Klahanie.”
I turned, just at the edge of the pasture. He’d stopped, face and manner serious, and now eyed me. “Are you just concerned about hurting me, or getting hurt yourself?”
“I never planned on staying here, Noah. The idea was to help out while Gram is mending, and maybe help find a new manager, if need be.” His expression didn’t shift, so I continued. “I have an apartment in California. I have a plant my neighbor is attempting to keep alive. I have a boss who’s starting to get a bit impatient, but keeps it under control because I’m good at what I do.”
“Ah.” I’d hoped he’d laugh at the plant comment, but he continued to study me.
“I wasn’t supposed to stay,” I repeated myself, now wondering who I was imploring.
“I guess your career is pretty fulfilling, huh?” He nodded, looking at me, looked beyond me. “You’re lucky. Most people don’t have that.”
He seemed sincere, but I couldn’t be sure. I’d never considered my job particularly fulfilling, but I didn’t hate it, and the independence and travel it offered helped make up for the shortcomings. At least, that’s what I’d started to tell myself of late. “Well, it helps put stamps in my passport.”
He nodded. “Well, maybe we could just enjoy one another’s company while you’re here. And the tour of the Givens’s place, aka, my house, is still on the table. It has a great view. In the meantime, I guess the booze, non-booze, and assorted yumminess isn’t getting itself to town.”
The tense moment evaporated and he grinned at me, his dimples popping out enough to make my stomach want to invert again. In truth, I could feel a budding confusion over my future, but didn’t want to share with anyone, at least not yet. “Did you want your coat back?”
I started to shrug out of it, already missing his aura, but he shook his head. “I’m okay. Hold onto it until we get to the house.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re very welcome, Hanes.” He snickered.
“Don’t call me that.”
Chapter Twenty
The population on the island hovered around 900, give or take, and it felt like every single one of them had shown up at the recreation center for turkey and all the fuss. The old ladies served everything buffet style, so we all had our stations, mine being parked behind the cranberry sauce. Even Noah took a position—right next to me—at the green bean casserole. Gram planted herself at the end of the line and guarded the pumpkin pies. Her searing gaze easily scared off those intending to be a little too liberal with their portion.
In fairness, there were only 126 diners, which was still way too many, as far as I was concerned. Multitudes of faces passed by me, most familiar, some not.
I found myself face to navel with Jimmy Green (aka, Jimmy Titan), the now ex-basketball player who left the island when I was in middle school, only to come back after college and stay. He grinned down at me. “Well, hello, Klahanie the Cryptid. How are you doing these days?”
Noah laugh/coughed next to me and I managed a quick side kick to his ankle.
