Storm Front (Reunited Hearts) (19 page)

His
expression stiffened briefly, but then his mouth and chin relaxed. “Yes.” With
a sideways glance toward her, he said, “I guess Nora has been gossiping. You’re
not feeling sorry for me, are you?”

Allison
snorted. “Feeling sorry for you? Hardly. You’ve been ridiculously spoiled if
you think being the target of one selfish bitch is a tragedy.” Her casual tone
was exaggerated because she did genuinely feel for the way Michael must have
been hurt by Gina’s machinations.

And
she was rewarded for her attempt at irony when Michael actually chuckled. “I
guess that put me properly in my place.”

She
smiled back at him, and they held the gaze for longer than she expected. When
she felt her stomach starting to buzz giddily, she looked away. “Don’t think
you’re off the hook, just because you happen to be charming. This might not
have been an intentional test. But it was…it was something. There’s no other
reason for me to be here.”

“Yes,
it was something,” he admitted, rubbing his hand over his hair. “I wanted to
spend more time with you, get to know you some more. And, I guess,
subconsciously, I was waiting to see how you would act. To assure myself you
aren’t what I’d originally taken you for.”

He
let out a long sigh. “I am sorry about that. You lied to me once. But you’ve
done nothing else to deserve my suspicion.”

“The
lie was stupid,” she replied, feeling a familiar twist of guilt. “I can see now
why it made you so mad. Can’t we get past it?”

He
stared at her evenly for a long time. Then he said, “Yes. I think we can.”

She
grinned at him, feeling remarkable good all of a sudden as the ocean breeze
blew across her flushed cheeks. “Good. In that case, is it time for dinner
yet?”

*
* *

Halfway through supper,
Michael started to plot.

He
felt ludicrously relieved at the positive resolution to his conversation with Allison.
And he felt ludicrously hopeful at the realization that he might actually be
able to trust her.

And
the way Allison was enjoying her scallops—with throaty hums and tantalizing
little flickers of her tongue against her full lips—was giving his body very
particular ideas.

Perhaps,
given the way things were going, they wouldn’t have to head back to D.C. after
dinner. Perhaps they could spend the night here instead.

He
was trying to determine the best strategy, the best way to broach the subject,
when Allison scowled at him. “Stop looking at me like that.”

With
a frown, he asked, “Like what?”

“Like
you want to eat me or something.”

He
felt a glint of amusement at her unconscious double entendre, and he arched his
eyebrows suggestively.

To
his delight, she actually blushed as she rolled her eyes—an unconscious gesture
she couldn’t help that made him think again of the way, in so many ways, she
seemed almost untouched.

It
wasn’t that she was a naive virgin. It was that she’d never really given
herself fully to a man before, not in the ways that really mattered.

Michael
wanted to be the man she gave herself to.

Fighting
her initial self-conscious reaction, she grumbled, “Get your mind out of the
gutter. We’re supposed to fly back this evening.”

Jumping
on the offered opportunity, he suggested, “We can always change our plans.”

“Michael,”
she began, almost reluctantly.

His
heart clenched at what sounded like the beginning of bad news. Keeping his
voice light, he asked, “Afraid of being stranded in another storm?”

Her
face softened into a smile. “Not exactly. But I do want to say something. It
sounds like you're about to come on to me again, and I know from experience how
good you are at that. But a series of one-night stands, even with the same man,
isn’t really what I want.”

He
swallowed, realizing what she thought, what he’d have to make clear to her.
“It’s not what I want either.”

She
sucked in an audible breath. “So what do you want?”

When
the question was put to him so bluntly, he didn’t find it as difficult to
answer as he’d thought. “I want more than that. If you want, I’d like to be
with you for real.”

Allison
seemed to have frozen, her fork halfway up to her mouth.

“Allison?”
he prompted.

“But
I live in D.C. And you live in New York.”

A
rush of relief washed over him, at the knowledge that this was her first
objection. If he’d had no chance, no hope, she would have started with
something far different. “That’s not a serious obstacle. I believe in the last
centuries they’ve invented a number of methods of getting us from one city to another.”

She
couldn’t help but smile at his clever response. “And the fact that I’m a
journalist?”

“That’s
something I can deal with.”

“So
you want a…a relationship?”

He
couldn’t believe he was actually saying this, but he no longer had any doubts.
He couldn’t get Allison out of his head, and he finally understood why. “Yes.
But you don’t have to make any commitments right away, if it’s too soon. We can
take it slow and see what happens.”

She
thought for a long time, longer than Michael was entirely comfortable with.

Finally,
Michael couldn’t stand the suspense any longer. “Allison?”

She
opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. So she tried again. Her words
were slow and sounded like she had trouble saying them. “Every time I start to
think that something can work out between us, it blows up in my face.”

Her
words were careful, but Michael understood what she meant with a wave of instinctive
comprehension. “I know I haven’t treated you well,” he began.

She
shook her head fiercely. “I’m not blaming or reproaching you. I’m just not sure
I’ll be able to…”

She
trailed off, leaving Michael hanging. He thought quickly, calling on all of his
intelligence and intuition to figure out how to handle her fears. “Back then,”
he said, going back to the beginning, “In Whitesville…”

He
remembered that night with her so vividly, her sweetness and innocence and his
absolute hunger for her. It had been too much, too intense. It had left him too
vulnerable. It made him feel confused and guilty.

He’d
assumed that meant it had been a mistake.

He
had been a fool.

“I
really cared about you,” she said, her voice cracking. “Back then. I thought…I
might have been in love.”

The
knowledge pierced his chest with an almost physical pain. “And I didn’t seem to
care about you.”

She
nodded.

He
closed his eyes, wondering if there was any way to get past the way they’d
first come together.

“I
like you,” Allison said, looking a little awkward. “A lot. And there’s a lot
about you that I want. But it’s complicated for me. Can I have a little time to
think things over before I decide?”

It
wasn’t what Michael wanted, but it was better than nothing. At least she was
taking it seriously.

And
he had always been a patient man when it came to waiting for something he
wanted.

He
couldn’t remember wanting anything the way he wanted Allison now.

“Of
course. Take all the time you need.”

*
* *

Michael went out to
walk on the beach after they finished eating. Allison felt a little uncertain
after the way she’d left their discussion, so she said she’d help Nora clear
the dishes.

She
kept looking out the windows, though, at where Michael was walking on the sand.
He was barefoot, and he’d rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt. The sun was
setting, and it cast a warm, orange light on his skin and dark hair.

He
stared out at the ocean, and for some reason he struck Allison as infinitely
lonely.

Her
heart clenched with sympathy and with something deeper.

She
wasn’t an idiot. She knew she’d fallen for him. She just wasn’t sure it was
either smart or mature to keep letting her feelings string her along when she’d
been hurt so many times by him in the past.

“Poor
boy,” Nora sighed, glancing out at where Allison’s gaze was focused.

“He
wouldn’t appreciate your pity.”

“Nope.
You’re right about that. But he has it anyway. Looks lonely, doesn’t he?”

So
it wasn’t just her imagination. He did look all alone on the wide expanse of
empty beach.

She
knew she’d hurt him a little with her hesitance, but she couldn’t blame herself
for it. She had to do what was right for her.

She
wondered suddenly why he hadn’t brought Ingrate with him. The dog was such good
company for him.

She
never would have believed, a couple of months ago, that Michael Martin would
have fallen for a dog the way he’d fallen for Ingrate. She never would have
believed that Michael would have committed to caring for a pet the way he had.
She never would have believed that, however much he tried to hide it, he would
pour out his affection on the animal.

She
thought about the way he’d committed to Ingrate. And the way he’d committed to
restoring the lighthouse, as soon as he’d made the decision that it was a cause
worth pursuing.

And
she realized that he was, in fact, a man who committed. A man who wouldn’t
withdraw his loyalty and affection once it had been consciously given.

He
might pull back when he was uncertain, or when he was afraid of opening himself
up, or when his trust was broken. But once he’d given his heart to someone who
treated it as it deserved, he wouldn’t take it away.

And
she knew. She
knew
.

“Oh
God!” she gasped, standing frozen for a moment, almost stunned by the
realization.

“You
all right, miss?” Nora asked.

“Yeah.
Oh yeah!” She beamed at the other woman, feeling like her entire being had been
transformed, had come to light.

Nora
chuckled. “Well, you better go tell him.”

Allison
ran to the door that led onto the porch and jerked it open, propelled into
motion by a rush of feeling she’d never experienced before. Then she raced down
to the beach, stumbling on the loose sand and running clumsily toward where Michael
was still standing.

He
must have heard her approach because he turned in her direction. The sun was
setting behind him, so his face was fully shadowed.

But
she knew—she could see—the alteration in his posture at her enthusiastic
approach. It was like hope had sprung to life inside him.

“Allison?”
he asked hoarsely, as she got nearer.

She
didn’t answer, she just barreled into him, letting him reach out toward her in
instinctive support. Her momentum caused them both to swing around on impact.

They
were both laughing as they came to a stop. Michael’s arms were wrapped around
her, and Allison was panting desperately.

“Allison?”
he asked again, his blue-gray eyes like nothing she’d ever seen before.

“I
thought about it,” she told him, unable to stop grinning.

He
seemed to be having trouble keeping his expression sober as well. “That didn’t
take you very long,” he murmured with impressive dryness. “And what were your
conclusions?”

It
all made such perfect sense to her now that she couldn’t believe she’d even
hesitated. And she never wanted to stop seeing the blaze of passion and feeling
that had ignited in Michael’s eyes.

So
she said, “I want to try.”

Michael let Allison
take his hand in hers as they walked, although the sentimental gesture felt
somewhat contrary to his nature. It wasn’t that he disliked it. It was that
he’d never have imagined himself as the kind of man who would walk along the
beach with a woman hand-in-hand.

He’d
done a lot of things in the last six months he’d never imagined himself doing.

It
was an unseasonably warm evening, and the sun was setting in a splendor of
oranges and purples at the horizon. A few months ago, Michael had sold his
previous beach house and bought this one—the new house within sight of the
recently restored lighthouse that had been damaged last year by the storm. A
lighthouse that Michael had grown to love as he'd funded its repair and
restoration.

He
and Allison were on the last day of their three-day weekend. Tomorrow morning,
they’d have to leave so she could return to D.C. and Michael to New York. He
didn’t like the thought of how soon they’d have to part again, so he pushed the
knowledge from his mind so he could enjoy the rest of the evening.

Allison
was smiling to herself. The wind blew her loose hair back from her face and her
long, gauzy skirt around her legs. She looked happy, relaxed, and satisfied. Michael
loved to see her that way, since it was tangible proof that all the work they’d
put into their relationship over the last several months had been worth it.