Midnight Lily (Signs of Love) (7 page)

"What else? What else do you like?"

A lock of hair fell over my eye, and Lily brought her hand up and brushed it away and then froze as if she'd caught herself doing something she hadn't meant to do. She blinked as her eyes met mine. "I'm sorry," she said, pulling her hand back.

I reached out and took her hand in mine, swallowing. "No, please, that felt nice. I don't mind if you touch my hair." Truthfully, I wanted her to touch me anywhere and everywhere. I wanted to feel the warm touch of her fingers on my skin, I wanted her to move closer and lie beside me so I could feel the length of her body next to my own. This moment suddenly seemed more intimate than any I'd ever experienced before, and we hadn't even removed one item of clothing. We hadn't even kissed.

Lily brought her hand tentatively back to my hair and wove her fingers into it. I moaned and lay back, closing my eyes. God, it felt good. It'd been so long since someone just . . . touched me.
Forever . . .
She continued to thread her fingers through it with obvious curiosity as if she'd never touched a man's hair before. Was it possible she hadn't?

Feeling relaxed and half in a trance, I said, "I like sports, especially football, Star Wars, and jazz music. Not together, necessarily." I quirked my lip up and raised one brow before closing my eyes again. "And I like the old jazz, you know, like Miles Davis or Coltrane." Lily's hands kept moving in my hair, causing me to sigh.

"What else?" she whispered.

"I like, uh, comic books . . . I like museums, fireworks . . . travel. I like breakfast for dinner, and . . . movie theaters. I like movie theaters. And I especially like going when there's no one else in the theater but me." I felt like I could fall asleep. "I like Tuesdays."

"Why Tuesdays?"

"Because no one else likes Tuesdays. I get it all to myself. Tuesday is all mine."

I somehow heard Lily's lips move into a smile, but didn't open my eyes.

"And snowstorms. I love winter and snowstorms." I paused. "Why do I feel like I'm writing a personal ad?"

Lily laughed softly, her fingernails raking lightly across my scalp. I was half asleep and half turned on, and it felt so damned good. "What about you? What do you like, Lily?" I felt like my voice might be slurring a little.

"Hmm," she said, pausing for a moment. "I like to read. And I like history."

"What else?"

She paused again. "I don't know." She sounded sad.

I opened my eyes half-mast and gazed at her sleepily. "What kind of music do you like?"

She tilted her head, watching her hand in my hair. "My mom used to play these love songs from the forties. I haven't heard them in a long time, but I used to love them."

"What did you mean yesterday when you said you thought you might be a ghost?" I asked, my eyes falling closed once again as I enjoyed the delicious feeling of her warm hand running through my hair and across my scalp. I resisted the urge to moan out loud, thinking any sound like that might scare her away and stop her from touching me.

She was quiet for a long moment, and I got lost in the comfort of being touched gently. Nothing in my recent past had felt gentle. And that's what Lily was: gentle and pure. Being with her made me starkly aware of how harsh and dirty my own life felt. "I just mean that sometimes I don't feel like I'm part of the world. I don't feel like my life is . . . real," she finally answered softly.

I opened my eyes, gazing at her lovely face.
Yes.
"I know what you mean," I said. "I feel the same way. I feel the exact same way. But this, this feels real. Does it feel real to you, too?"

She nodded down at me, her expression very serious. "Yes," she whispered. I closed my eyes again.

I could feel the familiar clawing inside me needing a fix, and I knew I should probably leave, though I didn't want to. But I was so tired. I hadn't slept more than a few hours in the last couple days, and Lily's hand in my hair was heavenly. If I just closed my eyes for a few minutes . . .

I woke up dazed and alone, the first light of dawn appearing in the eastern sky. I sat up abruptly, the sweatshirt Lily must have laid over me falling aside. A sharp pain sliced through my head and I groaned.

But I'd slept. I laughed softly to myself. I felt grateful to Lily as if somehow it'd been her who had given me that small gift. And although I needed a pill or several, I could feel the healing effects of more than a few hours of sleep. "Lily?" I called, but there was no answer. I stood slowly, being careful not to jar my aching brain any more than I had to. My skin was clammy and prickly, and I needed to get home, but I smiled anyway, recalling the magic of the night before. It had felt both like an escape, and the first real moments of peace I'd experienced in so very long.

Standing up on the rock, I noticed several small pebbles laid down in the shape of an arrow and looked in that direction. Over the tops of the trees, I could see the very tip of the roof of Brandon's lodge. I wasn't too far, and I knew which direction to go. For once.

Lily had again shown me the way.

Lily

I heard his voice through the woods. I hesitated before standing slowly, trying to control the sudden wild beating of my heart.

I refused to appear too eager to see him. But I did. Oh, I did want to see him.

Where do you fly, Lily?

I wished so badly I could ask my mom about the protocol on how to act with a man, but I knew that would not go over well, and so I didn't dare. Besides, it had been years since she'd been anywhere near a man, so she probably wouldn't be the best source of advice anyway. So instead, thus far, I’d followed Holden's cues and did what felt comfortable to me. There had to be
some
instinct to this whole getting-to-know-you dance between a man and a woman. I sighed. Who really knew if any of what I was doing was right?

I
liked
him. And I'd liked spending time with him. Already. So much. Too much. And it scared me.

It's only because even before you came here, you were so sheltered, Lily.
Of
course
I was bound to be captivated by the first man who caught my attention.

But at least I'd learned that he wasn't as crazy as I'd originally thought. He
was
sad, though. I'd been right about that. I figured all the strange behavior was due to drinking too much. A gardener we'd had when I was a little girl had liked to drink, too, and I saw him stumbling around sometimes when he was off duty. But that'd been a long time ago . . . I hadn't seen anyone drink alcohol since then. But I was pretty sure my memory of the effects was correct.

I should stay away. This friendship or whatever it was between us was bound to lead nowhere, but try as I might, I just couldn't. I wanted so many things it wasn't smart for me to want. I
wanted
to know about Holden, I wanted to talk to him. I wanted to see that sweet, lopsided smile of his, and I wanted to feel the wild thrill of delight I felt when his eyes lingered on my lips for too long. And I wanted to be kissed. Even just once, I wanted to be kissed. And I could be wrong, but I thought Holden might want to kiss me, too.

I didn't dare ask him too much about himself, though. That would just cause him to ask about me. Questions invited questions, and I couldn't give him many answers. But I figured if we just stuck to topics that made little difference, it would be okay. And very soon, he'd go back to San Francisco, his vacation or whatever would be over, and none of this would have mattered. I would know little about him, and he would know little about me. I tamped down the disappointment the thought brought—it was the way it had to be. I adjusted the backpack I was carrying and walked more quickly to his voice calling through the trees. So we still had now, and even if we didn't come to know each other's secrets, we could still enjoy some time together. And for now,
just for now
, I didn't have to be so lonely.

When I stepped up behind him and tapped him on his shoulder, he let out a small yell and whirled around, shock and fear in his expression. I couldn't help laughing just a bit. "Jesus, how do you walk so quietly?" he asked, his hand over his heart.

At the sight of his face, butterflies took flight in my belly, and I did my best to ignore them. I smiled. "Habit, I guess. It's best not to make a big racket in the forest. I thought a highly decorated Boy Scout would know that better than anyone," I teased. He was so very handsome up close like this. His hair was the color of rich honey and his eyes were as blue as the summer sky, fringed by dark lashes, tipped in the same deep golden color of his hair. He was tall and slim, but I could see that he had well-honed muscles through his clothes when he moved. There was something very graceful about him—something almost
quiet
about the way he moved—well, when he wasn't stumbling around drunk anyway.

"So, there must be a better way to contact you than yelling your name in the woods," Holden said.

I shook my head. "No."

His face sobered. "Okay." He looked as if he wanted to say something, but changed his mind and settled on, "How are you?" His eyes moved over my features in a way that made me feel good. He seemed to like what he saw. I brought my hand up to my cheek and wondered exactly what that was.

"I'm well. And you?"

Holden laughed, showing me his beautiful, wide smile again. He clasped his hands behind his back and rocked on his heels. "I'm very well, too. Thank you for asking."

I grinned, turning and glancing back to make sure he was following me. He walked quickly to catch up.

"So what are we doing today?"

"You're the one who was calling for
me
. Didn't you have a plan?"

"
My
plan is to be amazing and awesome so you want to spend more time with me." He tilted his head and gave me a hopeful smile and, God, he was so cute. It wasn't right to be that cute. I couldn't help smiling back, and I was pretty sure my cheeks were red. "And I never got to say I'm sorry I fell asleep on you last night."

I shook my head, glancing at him. He suddenly looked unsure, slightly embarrassed. "It seemed like you needed it," I said. "I didn't mind."

Holden stopped and I did, too, looking at him and wondering why he had halted. He ran his hand through his hair, making me want to touch it again. I knew now it was soft and thick and it would tickle my fingers as it fell between them. "I did. I did need the sleep. The truth is, Lily, I haven't felt real well lately—for too long, actually—and I wanted to spend time with you today, and to thank you for last night, but I also wanted to tell you that I'm going to need to take a week or so to try to feel better. I," he ran his hand through his hair again, "I think I'm ready. I hope . . . well, I hope you'll wait for me, wait for me to explain it to you. I hope you'll trust me." His expression was filled with something that looked like regret or maybe fear. Maybe both.

"It's okay, Holden. You don't owe me anything," I said hesitantly. I was confused about what exactly he was telling me. But the dark circles beneath his eyes, the way he'd tremble sometimes for no apparent reason, told me something wasn't right. Was he an alcoholic? Was it that bad? Or did he have some other sort of illness?

He looked at me for a second, and again, I could see how tired he was, how sad. "Maybe not," he muttered, looking away. "No. No, I do. Even though we barely know each other, you've made me feel peaceful in a way I haven't felt in a very long time. Truthfully, Lily, you've made me want to feel better than I do. And so yes, I do owe you. And I owe you an explanation about why I won't be back for a little bit."

Disappointment filled my chest, but he looked so troubled and confused, and so I grabbed his hand and held it in mine. "It's okay. I understand," I said, even though I didn't entirely. What I did know was that he was struggling, and whatever he was considering, it was taking all his strength to do it. And he'd said he'd be back.
And
he'd said he wasn't leaving for good—not yet anyway. He had decided he needed to do something difficult, and I wouldn't make it harder on him.

"Yes," I said.

"Yes what?" He tilted his head.

"You asked me if I could trust you and the answer is yes. I trust you." And I did. Inexplicably, perhaps, but I did.

Holden let out a breath. "Thank you. That means a lot." He smiled at me and squeezed my hand. "So how are we going to spend this day? I was hoping you'd have some ideas."

I laughed a small laugh. "Actually, I was going fishing before I heard you calling me." I shrugged my shoulder, indicating the backpack I was carrying.

"There's somewhere to fish around here?"

I nodded, stepping over a fallen branch. "About a mile from here there's a stream."

"What type of fish?"

"Trout."

"Where's your fishing pole?"

"I leave it there if I know I'll be back in a day or two. There are only a handful of days left to fish."

As we stepped into a clearing, the sight of something moving caught my eye and I looked across the open space to see a male elk—a bull—mounted on a female. I'd seen animals mating plenty of times before, but for some reason standing there watching it with Holden felt . . . strange. It made my skin tingle and my nipples harden and it made me intensely aware of him beside me. It made me intensely aware of
his
maleness.

Suddenly the day seemed overly bright, the sun very warm upon my skin. I looked up into Holden's face and saw him looking in the same direction . . . and his cheekbones were flushed. He caught my eye and then raised his eyebrows and laughed in that self-conscious way he sometimes did. I found it incredibly appealing. He had called himself a god among men, and yet his expressions spoke of a man who was self-conscious, almost shy. I wasn't sure who the real Holden was just yet. I wondered if he even knew himself.

"I think we might be intruding."

I let out a breath. "I think you're right. Here, let's go this way." He followed me as I took an alternate route, and we walked in silence for a while, both of us lost in our own thoughts, me trying to regain the relaxed feeling I'd had only moments ago.

I remembered back to him yelling on his deck about how lusted after he was, how he could start pimping himself out. I suddenly wondered exactly what that meant. I hadn't caught every word of what he'd been saying as there'd been a lot of slurring, but I thought I understood the gist of it: women wanted him, and he rarely said no. Women.
Plural.
Whatever life Holden Scott came from, there were lots of women waiting for him. I stopped suddenly, causing Holden to come up short, and I turned toward him. He had been right on my heels and now we were face to face. I cleared my throat. "I . . ."

"What is it?" he asked, concern in his expression.

I pressed my lips together, not knowing how to ask him the questions I wanted to ask, not knowing how to get the reassurance I needed.
What exactly did I need to be reassured of?
I wanted to know if he thought about kissing me as much as I thought about kissing him. I wanted to tell him that I'd never kissed a man before. "I heard what you said, on your deck, most of it anyway, about the women . . . you . . . well—"

"Christ," he interrupted me, putting his hands in his pockets. "I really made an ass of myself that night, didn't I?"

"Um, I—"

"You don't have to answer that. It was rhetorical." He paused, a frown creasing the skin between his brows as he glanced around the forest. "I did. I made an utter ass out of myself. The truth is I've been making an ass out of myself for a really long time. But I want to stop doing that." He looked back at me. "What I meant earlier, and the reasons I'll have to stay away from you for a little while, is that I'm going to stop doing things that lead me to acting like the ass I was that night. I'm sorry you had to be a witness to any of it. I'm ashamed of that because that's not who I want to be."

I shook my head and put my hand on his arm. "No, you don't need to apologize about that night. You thought you were alone. I'm the one who should be apologizing for spying on you. I just . . . I did hear that," I licked my lips and Holden's gaze moved to my mouth, his eyes seeming to darken to a deeper blue, as if a summer storm was coming, "about the women, I mean, and so I'm just wondering if . . ." I stopped again.

Why had I brought this up? I needed time to consider what I was even trying to ask him. I needed time to get my thoughts in order before bringing any of this up with Holden. Or maybe it shouldn't be brought up at all. We barely knew each other. I resisted the urge to turn and simply run away from this terribly awkward moment.

When I looked back up into Holden's face, he had the glimmer of a smile on his lips. "Lily, are you wondering if I have a whole horde of women waiting for me back in San Francisco? A girlfriend? Maybe even a wife . . . or two?" His smile grew bigger and I blinked. He was teasing me, but yes, I had been wondering those things. I'd been wondering those exact things. "Are you wondering if I want to kiss you? Are you wondering if I think you're the most beautiful girl I've ever seen? Are those the things you're wondering, Lily of the Night?" He used his index finger to run down the curve of my cheekbone.

I blinked. My cheeks felt hot, and I was slightly stunned. And Holden looked so very pleased with himself.
Infinitely
pleased with himself. "I . . . no, I was actually just wondering how they all work out the sharing of you? Do they each get different days? Or is it just a virtual free-for-all? Just . . . curious because it sounds very complicated. No wonder you're so tired."

Holden's face went blank for a brief moment and then he leaned his head back and laughed. After a minute, he looked back at me. "I deserved that." I laughed, too, and turned, glancing back at him once to make sure he was following me. He ran to catch up.

"What exactly constitutes a horde anyway?" I asked, looking at him sideways, trying not to smile, biting my lip so it didn't turn upward of its own accord.

"A horde? Oh, um, three. A horde is made up of three."

I laughed. "Liar." Holden laughed, too, and then grabbed my hand, swinging it between us as we walked. His skin was cool and smooth and my hand felt small in his. We both continued to smile at each other in this goofy way that made my heart expand. Finally, I looked away, a small smile remaining on my lips. Yes, I trusted him. I
did
. I didn't have any experience to gauge whether I was trusting blindly or not. I only knew I liked him, and that I felt
safe
with him.