Hummingbird Lake (17 page)

“I don’t really want to talk about it.” He reached for her with one hand and smoothly took possession of and set aside her dessert plate with the other. Tugging her toward him, he suggested, “Let’s neck instead. You won’t scream, will you?”

He had the prettiest eyes. “Probably not.”

He captured her mouth with his.

As far as changing the subject went, his method proved first-rate. Since Sage had been anticipating his kiss from the minute she dialed the Landry cabin to invite
him for dinner, she neither resisted nor protested. She relaxed into the moment and allowed him to lie back and pull her atop him, sweeping her away into a warm, rolling river of pleasure.

He buried his fingers into her hair as he moved his lips over hers. His tongue explored her, stroked her, stoked her passion. He tasted of cinnamon and smelled like sin and felt like heaven pressed against her.

Sage sighed into his mouth. He growled in response. His hand began to move, skimming up and down her back. He slipped his hand beneath her shirt and caressed the sensitive skin at the small of her back with the callused pad of his thumb until she shuddered.

It had been so long since she’d indulged in any intimacy with a man—even intimacy as relatively innocent as this. When his mouth released hers and his lips trailed across her face, she tilted her head, offering her neck.

He nipped her there, and again she shuddered, sensation washing over her in waves like a sun-warmed surf caressing the sand. Pleasure. Yearning. Arousal. Delight. His hand slid down and cupped her butt, his fingers kneading her softly. When she realized she no longer felt his lips on her skin, she opened her eyes to see him watching her, an enigmatic look on his face. “What?” she asked.

“I’m trying to decide.”

“Decide what?” When he failed to either reply or look away, she added, “I’m not going to sleep with you.”

His lips twitched. “I’m not going to ask you to.”

Okay, that was insulting. But when she pursed her mouth, preparing to fire a comeback, he put a finger against her lips and said, “Tonight.”

She bit his finger and he laughed, then managed to flip their positions so that he lay atop her. He rose on his elbows and stared down into her face. “This is our first date. I won’t take your clothes off. I won’t let my hands
stray to second-date territory. I won’t let my mouth go the places it wants to go so badly that I’m shocked I’m not drooling. While I would love nothing more than to strip off your clothes and have wild mountain-goat sex with you, I’m trying to have more respect for us both.”

Sage blinked. “Wild mountain-goat sex?”

He ducked his head and buried his face against her neck. “You smell and taste like summertime. Think that’s why I’m so hot?”

“It’s lavender and apples,” she replied, deliberately ignoring the question.

“I love lavender and apples.” He waggled his eyebrows. “You want to neck some more?”

Sage couldn’t help it—she laughed. “Are you seventeen, Rafferty?”

“Twice.” He grinned slowly and winked wickedly. “I’m experienced.”

The glint in his eyes appealed to the part of her that had never met a contest she didn’t want to win. “Experienced enough to handle me, big guy?”

His eyes widened, then gleamed. “Try me.”

Sage placed her hand against the back of his neck and pulled his head down to hers, then proceeded to give him a blistering kiss. From that moment on, it was a battle. She wiggled and rubbed and worked her way back on top of him, which allowed her better access to his body. He’d promised not to strip off her clothes, but she had made no such promise, so soon she had his shirt open and her hands splayed across his chest. He had great pecs, firm and covered with a light layer of dark hair. His nipples were small and hard, and when she flicked her thumb across one of them, he sucked in an audible breath past gritted teeth.

Sage wanted to taste him, to tease him, so she trailed her mouth down his neck, gently nipping her way to his collarbone, then finally to his breast. His hands were
clamped at her hips, his fingers tightened around her like a vise.

The bulge in his jeans was prominent, and Sage couldn’t deny that seeing it, feeling it against her, both stirred her and satisfied her. She liked the fact that this man was that hard for her.

“You smell good, too, Rafferty,” she said, blowing softly on the flesh she’d sampled. “Taste good, too.”

“It’s not lavender,” he responded, his voice rough and raspy. “Irish Spring.”

Sage grinned impishly and adopted an Irish brogue as she quoted an old commercial. “For the manly man.”

Then she leaned down and licked the nipple she’d previously neglected.

“Ah, Sage. Please.” His eyes shut, he grimaced. “You’re killing me here.”

“Crying uncle, Rafferty?”

“Uncle and aunt,” he groaned. “Cousin. Niece. Nephew.”

Then he opened his eyes, stared up at her, and said, “I could probably be talked into being easy.”

Sage wavered. Being easy sounded awfully good to her right about now, too. She was hot and humming with arousal. Her bed was only steps away. It had been so long since she’d rolled naked with a man, and she’d never rolled naked with a guy as hot as Colt Rafferty.

But his line about respect had made an impression, and this was indeed their first date. She never slept with guys on first dates, and she suspected that if she indulged tonight, she wouldn’t like herself tomorrow.

Besides, as long as she walked away right now, she could claim victory. That settled the question. “Nope. I’m done with you for tonight, Rafferty.”

She sat up and stood, then turned away so that he wouldn’t see her ogling his chest as he buttoned his shirt. To give herself cover and time for her breathing to
return to normal, she picked up the dessert plates and carried them to her kitchen. She rinsed the plates and added them to the dishwasher, then turned to grab a dish towel to dry her hands. Colt stood in the doorway, holding the Santa suit top and his empty pillowcase in one hand. He watched her with a smoldering gaze.

“Leaving?” she asked, lifting her chin, proud that she managed to keep a tremor out of her voice.

“Yep.” He strode into the room, his gaze locked on hers. She couldn’t have looked away if her life depended on it.

He stopped close, too close. In her space. “I enjoyed this evening, Sage.”

She forced herself not to back away. “I did, too.”

“Thanks for the invitation.”

Her mouth had gone desert dry. “You’re welcome.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“You will?”

The dimple in his cheek deepened as his mouth stretched in a slow, sensual smile. “Oh, yeah. I definitely will. G’night, Cinnamon.”

Then he leaned down and kissed her, hard and fast, crushing her mouth with his, invading it with a plundering tongue. Her head began to buzz, her heart thundered. Her knees turned to water, and just as she reached for him to hold on for dear life, he stepped away. “Tomorrow.”

Then he was gone and Sage was alone.

For the first time in a long time, she was lonely.

The frigid night air helped Colt cool down as he walked back to the Landry cabin, though he briefly considered stripping naked and walking into a snowbank. That mental image made him laugh, and he entered the cabin feeling pretty darn pleased with himself. Sage Anderson
might be the most complex woman he’d ever met. She did it for him in so many ways.

He’d begun the gift giving on a whim with that bowl of chili. He’d continued because he enjoyed it, and because searching out the day’s gift provided a welcome distraction from the storm of confusion Celeste Blessing had stirred up with him.

Consider that this piece of aspen represents your path, your dreams and desires, known and unknown. Open your mind and your heart to all the possibilities
.

Celeste and her hunk of wood had him exploring all sorts of paths. He wasn’t simply standing at a crossroads choosing whether to go north or south. He had east and west and every line of latitude and longitude on earth to consider. While he wasn’t ready to commit to anything, he’d come to realize that exploring possibilities had its own rewards.

Colt slept well that night and awoke with a sense of purpose. He made business calls in the morning, worked on his latest carving project for an hour, then grabbed up the day’s gift for Sage and headed next door.

This time, instead of leaving his gift for her to find, he set it to one side, then knocked on the door. When she answered a few moments later, the pleasant greeting on his lips died. She had dark circles under eyes that were red with fatigue. “What’s wrong? You look terrible.”

“Gee, thanks, Rafferty.” She slammed the door in his face. Of course, he didn’t let it stop him. He opened the door and walked right inside, following her back to her kitchen. For a beautiful woman, she looked like hell. How could a medical doctor allow herself to get into this position? “You didn’t sleep again last night, did you?”

“I slept some.” She shrugged. “I had a nightmare.”

He frowned. “About me?”

She rolled her eyes. “You don’t suffer from a lack of self-esteem, do you?”

He ignored that and pressed, “You should have called. I’d have come over.”

“Go away, Rafferty. I don’t have the energy for you today.”

He folded his arms and studied her, debating whether or not it was a good idea to go forward with his plan for the day in light of her obvious fatigue. “When was the last time you got any exercise?”

She shot him a disgusted look and he clarified. “I’m not talking about sex, Sage. I’m talking about strenuous outdoor activity. Hiking. Skiing. Skating. Have you done anything physical since that walk you took around the lake last week?”

She closed her eyes and sighed. “Look, I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but—”

“Want to see today’s gift?”

She hesitated at that, which made up Colt’s mind. She wasn’t going to let him in, so he’d draw her out. He retrieved the gift from the front porch and dangled it in front of her. “Wanna play a game?”

“A hockey stick?” She gave him a look that said,
Are you crazy?
“You got me a hockey stick?”

“Celeste confirmed that you already have skates. I’ve been watching, and the kids don’t show up to play until around four o’clock.”

She took a step back. “I’ve never played ice hockey. I don’t know the rules.”

“We’ll make up our rules.” He could see that she was tempted, so he took a step forward and urged, “C’mon, Cinnamon. Come out and play with me.”

She nibbled her lower lip, hesitating, before she visibly relaxed. “All right. For a little while, I guess. I need a few minutes to finish up something here. How about I meet you at the end of the point in half an hour?”

“I’ll be there.”

They spent an enjoyable hour on the ice. Sage proved to be an excellent skater and she quickly got the hang of using a hockey stick. The first time she managed to shoot the puck past him, she shouted with glee, did a spin, and gave a smile as big as Texas. With her rosy cheeks and the sunlight glinting off the red in her long curling hair, she was so beautiful that she made Colt’s teeth ache. It was all he could do not to grab her and yank her into his arms right then. She declined his dinner-and-dip-in-the-hot-tub invitation, and he didn’t press her. The fragile look she’d had earlier was gone. That was enough for now.

The following day he gave her a pack of peppermint-flavored lip balm and took her snowmobiling. The day after that he gave her a set of waders and coaxed her into fishing with him at the Taylor tailwater, which turned out to be a huge mistake because the darned woman caught one! He, once again, came up empty. How humiliating was that?

And yet the circles beneath her eyes didn’t appear quite as dark as they had before.

The next day he showed up at her door, gave her earmuffs and mittens, and challenged her to a snowball fight. That ended when the sexual hum he’d been feeling all week got the better of him and he charged her, knocked her down, and kissed her senseless.

After a few minutes of rolling in the snow with her, he lifted his head, stared down into her lovely eyes, and said, “I’ve never been this cold and this hot at the same time in my life.”

Her laughter sounded like music on the air.

He stood and reached for her hand to pull her to her feet, saying, “Want to go into town for supper with me? I haven’t eaten at the Bristlecone since I’ve been here,
and I’m in the mood for one of Mrs. Hawkins’ pork chops.”

She hesitated, and he added, “C’mon. We can stop at the video store afterward and rent a movie.”

An impish look entered her eyes. “I think the latest Nicholas Sparks movie is out in video this week.”

He grimaced and rubbed the back of his neck. “You like those sappy romances with the unhappy endings?”

“Occasionally.”

“Will watching it help my chances at wooing you into the hot tub?”

She gave him a considering look, and damned if his pulse didn’t speed up. “Do you really want to be a stand-in for a Gerard Butler fantasy?”

“Hey, a good fantasy life is a sign of sexual health.” He checked his watch. “How about I pick you up in an hour?”

“That’ll be good.” She gave a wave and headed for her house. Colt turned toward the Landry place, and she caught him completely by surprise when she pegged him between the shoulder blades with one last snowball. Her laughter rang out like church bells on the brisk winter air.

At the cabin, Colt thawed out in a long, hot shower, then checked his stock of wine and—just in case—changed the sheets on his bed. He drove over to Sage’s cottage and knocked on her door precisely an hour after they’d separated.

He waited. She didn’t answer. He knocked again. Still she didn’t answer. “You are not going to stand me up.”

He knocked one more time, then began fishing in his pocket for his cellphone. Suddenly the door swung open. She was barefoot, wearing a green silk robe and a fluffy white towel wrapped around her head. “Come in. I’m sorry. I’m running late. One of the galleries that shows my work called with a problem and the call
dragged out. Give me ten minutes. Make yourself at home.”