He looked hurt. “I need more,” he said, breathing heavily.
“You can never do that again.”
His faced scrunched up. He jerked his head back in shock and then stepped forward again. “But I want you. And you want me.”
“No.” I turned, opened the door quickly, and locked it behind me. I slid against the wall and fell into a boneless pile on the floor.
Through the door, he pleaded with me. “I’m sorry, Ava. Just let me in. Just let me hold you.” A few moments went by and then in a lighter voice he said, “You kissed me.”
I stood, feeling the heavy weight of my decision as I opened the door. “Stay there.” I put my hand out.
His arms were crossed over his chest. “I won’t touch you, but we should talk about what just happened.”
I held up my hand and showed him my wedding band still firmly on my ring finger, cemented in place by guilt. “I’m married.”
He was speechless. He looked down and let out a breath through his nose as he shook his head with disappointment.
“I’m married,” I said again.
When he looked up his eyebrows were pushed together in a look of pure pity. He uncrossed his arms and held them out. “Let me hold you for a moment. I can’t imagine that Jake would mind having someone look out for his wife and comfort her . . . just for a moment.”
I moved into the warmth of his body, my arms clutching him around his waist. He ran his hand into my hair at the back of my neck and guided my head down to rest against his chest. I fell into quiet sobs. Tears ran steadily down my face and onto his clothes. Rocking back and forth, he whispered, “Shh. It’s okay.”
I had broken down to Nate twice in a short amount of time. I had fallen into his arms like a helpless child, hungry for affection. My pain over Jake was surfacing again because my feelings for Nate were growing stronger. I tried to convince myself that nothing would make sense about us, and there was no way we would ever work. We came from two totally different worlds, and he would leave to return to L.A. eventually.
Sniffling, I asked him, “Why do you want to be around me?”
“Because I like you.”
“But what does it all mean?”
“I don’t know, but I don’t necessarily want to analyze it. Why don’t we just enjoy each other’s company? I’ll be here for another couple of weeks. We can fish and ride and try to forget about everything else.”
“And then you’ll leave?”
“Yes. I have to go back. There’s an investigation and I have to meet with the hospital board.”
“And then what?”
“I don’t know.”
I knew the answer. Nate would go back to his life in Los Angeles and I would be left with my guilt and the memory of my dead husband.
“I don’t think that I can . . . be with you. I mean, be with you in that way.” I glanced up to gauge his expression. I could tell he knew what I meant.
“I understand. We’re friends though, right?”
“Yes.”
He kissed my forehead and then let me go, gently spun me around, and pushed me toward the door. “Get some rest.”
I turned back and looked him in the eye. “Thank you for understanding.”
“Of course.”
“Can we go swimming tomorrow? There’s a swimming hole. We can ride there?”
He gripped my chin with his thumb and index finger, tilting my head up toward his face. With a small, sincere smile, he said, “I would love that.”
Lying in my bed that day, I thought back to the kiss and Nate’s words. How he wanted more. If I was being honest with myself, so did I. But then I turned and curled up on the pillow next to me . . . Jake’s pillow. I cried myself to sleep, begging for someone to save me.
It must have been only hours later when I heard a knock on the door. When I opened it Trish was there, holding out a pan of banana bread. “I know you can’t say no to Bea’s banana bread.”
She was up to something. “What did Nate tell you?” I opened the door farther to let her enter. She walked past me into the kitchen and began making coffee.
Standing behind her, I wondered if she was there as part of some intervention or something. “Did you hear me?” I asked.
“I heard you. Nate didn’t tell me nothin’. Let’s have some coffee and some of this delicious bread, made with love just for you.”
“What are you doing here?”
She put her hands on her hips and huffed. “Where’d you learn your manners? I live in the cabin right next door to you and you’ve never asked me to come over for a visit. You rarely eat dinner with us in the big house, and in the last few years I’ve scarcely heard you mumble more than five words to anyone at any given time.” She reached out and braced my arms. “I’m here for you, baby.”
I sat down hesitantly. “Thank you?” I said, like a question.
“I want you to talk to me.”
“About what?”
“About why I saw you twisting tongues with my nephew on the porch one minute and then crying in his arms the next?”
I planted my face in my hands over the table. “I kissed him.”
“Good for you!”
“What?” At first I thought she was scolding me for the kiss. I peeked at her between my fingers.
“Listen, sweetie, it’s okay for you to kiss Nate. Maybe Redman thinks differently, but who gives a shit about what that old man thinks.”