Page 58 of Running to You

He turned away, muttering under his breath. All she caught was, “…have to hurt somebody.”

Seemed a little drastic, but the words soothed a tender place in her heart, a place that felt starved for protection. For more than just protection.

Another room ran along the back of the great room, a sunroom with a wall of bookshelves. It would be lovely in the morning, watching the sun rise over the valley.

Now, the sun was setting behind her, darkness encroaching. She wanted to turn on a lamp. But that would make the space a fishbowl. Anybody would be able to see in.

Nobody would, of course, not with the house hidden so far from the road. But still…

She crossed her arms, chilly again now that the cooking was finished, and watched darkness slide across the valley below.

Sam flicked on a dim lamp behind her. “Just texted Colton. He said the upstairs gets toasty, but it takes a long time for the downstairs to heat up. It’s the cathedral ceilings, all the windows.”

“That’s fine.”

“I’m going to light a fire. Meanwhile”—he snatched a blanket from the back of a chair and draped it over her shoulders—“you’ll just have to cuddle up.”

She wrapped it around herself. “Thanks.” It helped. But the problem was, she wasn’t in the mood to cuddle up, at least not all by herself.

But Sam had already moved away. He knelt in front of the hearth, tearing newspaper into strips.

She watched, mesmerized, as he teepeed narrow logs, then lit the paper. Sparks crackled, disappearing up the chimney.

Sam nudged paper and logs this way and that with a poker, urging the wood to catch. It did, and flames rose, illuminating his face and that intent expression he always wore when he was focused on a project.

Wandering closer, she held out her hands to let the flames warm her skin.

He stood and backed up, stopping just inches from her. He looked down at her and smiled.

Her whole body responded. It took everything in her not to open the blanket and pull him in. Not to rise on her tiptoes and kiss those lips.

He blinked, shifted away. “That’ll warm us up.”

“Hmm.” She felt warm enough, and the heat had nothing to do with the blaze.

“There’s a TV room upstairs,” Sam said, “if you want to watch something. It’s already warmer up there.”

TV? Some dumb movie or sporting event? She stifled the sigh that tried to escape. All these things she was feeling… Obviously, he was feeling none of them.

Which was fine. They’d broken up. According to Jeanette, he’d hurt her. According to him, she’d been the one to end it. He’d moved on. He had five years of moving on behind him, whereas her wound felt fresh and raw.

She couldn’t let herself fall for him again. But the problem was, she’d never—in her memory, anyway—stopped loving him.

Her feelings weren’t exactly well-trained soldiers, eager to do her bidding. Right now, they felt like toddlers let loose on a playground. Running, swinging, sliding. Laughing, screaming, crying. Total chaos.

Completely uncontrollable.

When she didn’t respond to his suggestion, he added, “Or we can watch the fire for a little while.”

She settled on the sectional. He took a seat catty-corner to her, because heaven forbid they get too close.

“You know what this reminds me of?” His voice was low in the dimly lit room, his face glowing as he stared at the flames. “That weekend we went skiing with my brothers. You remember?”

“Sunday River, right?” The ski resort with, in her opinion, the best trails in Maine. "All the brothers except Daniel."

“Right. We got that condo. Spent two days on the slopes.”

“Wasn't the best conditions, if I remember. More ice than snow.”