The Kiss on Castle Road (A Lavender Island Novel) (19 page)

He glanced up but didn’t respond to that.

“So, Nell, yeah, I think it’s why she feels the need to take care of me,” he finally said. “Baseless now, but she stays in that role.”

“And that’s why she’s trying to find you the perfect mate?”

“I guess.”

“That’s sweet, actually.”

“Unnecessary, though.”

A swell of empathy expanded in Natalie’s chest—that was certainly something she could relate to, having older sisters feel as though you couldn’t take care of yourself. But seeing it now, from Elliott’s sister’s perspective, she could see that it probably stemmed from concern and protectiveness. Maybe her sisters were simply reacting the same way? They were the older sibs, the ones “put in charge,” and they didn’t know how to relinquish their roles any more than Natalie and Elliott knew how to get out from under theirs.

She drew in a deep breath, ready to ask him more, but just then, over Elliott’s shoulder, she saw Marie approaching.

Elliott turned to follow Natalie’s gaze. “How are things going, Marie?” he asked.

“Fine,” Marie said. “I came over to tell you kids that you can leave now.”

Natalie frowned. “
Leave?
Now? How will you get back?”

“We’re staying.”

“Staying, yes, of course. But staying for how long? Will you need a ride—” Natalie caught Marie’s glance upward at the hotel rooms. “Oh!
Staying.
Yes. Gotcha.” Natalie reached for her purse.
Well, good for Marie. Staying over with the Colonel!

“All righty then,” she said, leaping off her bar stool.

“But could you two take one cart back together and leave one for us? He can drive us back in the morning.”

“Yes, of course,” Elliott said. “I’ll leave the Colonel’s here.”

“Thanks, dears,” Marie said, shuffling back to the table.

Elliott looked back at Natalie with raised eyebrows. “I didn’t see
that
coming.”

“Me neither.”

He took the last swig of his drink. “Can I catch a ride back down with you then?”

“Of course.”

Outside, the crickets trilled their spring-evening chirp as Natalie started up the golf cart and began slowly making her way down the bumpy dirt mountain road. Maybe she could talk to him a little more about sisters. It was nice to have someone to talk to who might really understand, who knew how hard it was to prove you were capable of taking care of yourself.

She leaned farther forward, though, to peer through the fog and make sure she knew where she was going. It was scary to be heading down at such a severe pitch in the dark and mist. She tried to ignore the fact that Elliott was clinging to the side rails and sucking in his breath every time she turned a corner.

“Do you want me to drive?” he asked.

“Of course not.”

A stroke of heat went over her ears at that. It wasn’t as if she couldn’t drive. She considered herself a good driver, actually. Most of these golf carts went only twenty miles an hour, but she was good on the brakes and turns.

She picked up a little speed, just to show him how good she was, but the hill was steep and the fog was thick, and the cart began careening. It whirled around the next corner, but the turn was too sharp, the road too slick, the cart too top-heavy, and a rock caught one of the tires. As they flew around the next bend, her headlights cut through the mist to catch the enormous head of a bison, which stood like a monument in the middle of the road. Natalie slammed on the brakes, swung the wheel sharply to the left, and fought as the cart spun top-heavily to the side, then slid toward the edge of a cliff.

Her head lurched forward, and her heart came into her throat, as they skidded to a sickening stop.

A terrible silence surrounded her as she peered up through the swirling dirt.

“Elliott?”

CHAPTER 17

Silence filled the night air as Natalie peered through the dust and faced the overhang of a hillside.

“Don’t move,” Elliott finally whispered.

Their headlights illuminated nothingness below them—thin night air, with clouds of dust mingling with the fog and swirling in both beams. A gust of wind came up the canyon, whistling through the hills, and the cart wobbled slightly forward. Natalie stifled a scream.

“Okay,” Elliott said, low. “Stay calm. I’m going to move a little toward the back, to put some weight back there. Then I want you to come behind me and jump off.”

“I c-c-can’t move,” Natalie whispered. She couldn’t feel her legs. She wasn’t sure they could even operate. She felt as if she couldn’t shift, couldn’t move, couldn’t even breathe or else the cart would go over. She leaned back as far as possible and tried not to let out a breath.

“I’ll help you,” Elliott said gently. “Let me get the cart steady. Just . . . stay calm. And stay still.”

Natalie wanted nothing less. She wanted to freeze in place. She didn’t want even a gust of wind to come up. She certainly didn’t want Elliott to move at all. But before she could give voice to her horror, he slithered his body backward until he turned and moved in three long breaths to the very back of the cart. The cart bobbled up and down. Natalie stifled another scream. The cart seemed to find a more secure resting place, and the headlights rose slightly into higher air.

“Okay, now you,” he said.

“I c-c-can’t, Elliott.”

“Just try. The weight is back here now. You’ll feel it as soon as you turn toward me. I’ll grab your hand and pull you.”

She leaned her body back as far as the seat would allow, shaking with every inch. The feeling seemed to come back into her legs, and she swung them—very, very slowly—toward the back. When the cart didn’t seem to shift forward, she finally relaxed some weight onto her right leg, then swung her left and threw her weight in one swift move to the back seats. Elliott caught her arm as she was in motion. She froze when the cart bobbled, and they both waited for it to stop. Finally the headlights rose even farther, level now with the ground. Her heart seemed to start beating again.

“Now step off,” he whispered.

Fear seized her again. “What will happen to you?” she said into the still air. She was afraid to turn toward him.

“I’ll be fine.” His hand gripped her elbow, and he directed her toward the side of the cart. She hesitated, stepping once toward the ground to see if the cart would bob forward. It dipped slightly.

“Elliott, no! You’ll go over.”

“I won’t. I’ll be right behind you—I promise.”

He didn’t look as though he was going to be right behind her. He looked as if he was holding down the back for her. She was so worried the cart would take him over the edge. But his voice was calm, and she decided to trust that he would know the physics of this situation.

“Okay, I’m going to step off now,” she whispered.

The crickets trilled in the bushes surrounding the back of the cart, making the night seem so much calmer than it was. Natalie glanced back at Elliott once more. His eyes were steady on her, and he nodded once.

She stepped off slowly, hoping not to rock the cart, but as soon as her last foot left the floorboard, she felt the vehicle teeter. She whirled around to scream, but Elliott was, indeed, right behind her. He threw his arm across her back and brought them both to the ground. The cart groaned forward, stilled for a second, then careened down the side of the mountain. Its fiberglass side was punched in at the first rock. After two bumps, it toppled over and tumbled the rest of the way into the canyon. Branches snapped, dust flew, bangs echoed, and then, finally, everything stilled.

They stood and looked over the canyon in the eerie silence. Finally the crickets started trilling again.

Natalie began shivering uncontrollably. Her legs wobbled. She started to sink to the ground.

“Hey now,” Elliott said, dragging her back up. He held her elbows as he let her find her balance. She wanted to lean into him—let him hold her, let herself shake, let his body warmth seep all the way through her until she calmed.

But just as she shifted her weight to allow herself to step into his arms, his eyes went up over her shoulder. His whole body stiffened.

“Easy, boy,” he said quietly.

Natalie took three long seconds to turn her head. The bison’s enormous woolly-brown head and two half-hooded brown eyes stared in their direction, as if he was watching how the night’s events might go. His white horns twisted once, then pointed back toward them. He snorted, and his entire body shook.

“Walk slowly and deliberately, but don’t look like a threat.” Elliott put his arm around Natalie’s shoulders and directed her to the side.

They took long, slow, smooth steps until they’d walked about a hundred feet and around two more bends. Elliott never looked back. After their shoes had crunched the gravel about another fifty paces, he finally looked over his shoulder and brought them to a gradual stop.

He put his hands on Natalie’s shoulders and turned her toward him.

As if all the adrenaline had finally slipped away, her legs began to shake. Tears felt like they were pressing against a dam in the back of her head.

“It’s okay,” he said.

That was all it took—Elliott’s soft voice, his reassuring words, his sheltering arms—and her tears burst out as she dove into his shoulder.

Elliott pulled her toward him.

“It’s okay. It’s okay.”

They stood that way for a long time, holding each other in the darkness and the fog, Elliott running his hand down the locks that had come undone, rubbing her back. He pulled her head into the crook of his neck and let her cry.

Her mascara and lipstick left stains all over his shirt, but he felt so good—so safe—that she allowed herself to sniffle for another five minutes, releasing all the fear, all the panic, all the worry she’d been feeling, possibly for fifteen years. She’d always felt she had to protect herself, and had put herself with men who looked as if they could protect her. But they never could, and they’d never had the concern for her that Elliott seemed to have right now. It felt so good to be held this way, by a man who could be gentle with her, who wanted to calm her, who seemed to want her to be truly safe.

He stroked her hair again. She felt him kiss the top of her forehead.

And then she sniffled, hesitated, and caught his lips with hers.

Elliott felt the warmest lips he’d ever known in his life slide across his, and he started at first but then leaned in and welcomed her.

Her body was so pliant, now sliding against his, and his hands felt like homing beacons, quickly finding their way into her hair, holding her close to position her so he could kiss her as thoroughly as he’d been wanting to. He pressed further, taking a step back with her, wanting to absorb her, be inside her, be part of her, protect her, as they backed up against a sharp outcropping. His hand came out to block her from the granite as his lips explored hers, resting her back slowly so he could enjoy this, take her, move his hands down to—

“Wait.” Natalie lifted her palms against his chest.

He pulled back, panting, his brain not quite able to catch up with his libido.

“I can’t do this,” she said, pushing tendrils of hair off her face. “I—I’m on a
mancation
, Elliott. I can’t . . .” She shoved past him and stepped back onto the road, standing there with her arms wrapped around herself.

He took five rapid breaths and sent a slew of curse words through his head.

Natalie looked at him, her eyes filled with remorse. “Elliott, that wasn’t . . . I didn’t mean to do that. That wasn’t a kiss.”

“It wasn’t?”

“No.”

“I’d say it was quite a kiss.”

“No. It wasn’t. I was just . . .
reacting
to all
that
.” She waved her hand back toward the bison and the fallen cart. “And my fear was just coming out, and . . .
comfort
, really. That was comfort.”

Elliott took a small step back. His body was on fire right now, his body parts all at full attention. Damned if that was just comfort. But she was saying no.

“And . . .” She waved her hand in a frustrated windmill. “You have your date tonight. You have to get back to Becky.”

Damn it.
He’d nearly forgotten about Becky. He wanted to stay here. He
would
stay here—on this road, in the dark, in the cool night air—for the rest of his life if it meant he could hold this woman in his arms like that, feel her hair fall out of her 1940s pins and across his forearms, feel her body soften against his, feel her relax into his chest.
Just
like that.

“Natalie,” he whispered. He didn’t really know where he was going with the next thought. His thoughts were completely muddled, but mostly he knew he didn’t want to stop. He didn’t want anyone else. And he wanted Natalie with every ounce of his soul.

But she started hustling down the road.

“Where are you going?”

“We have to get back. We have to get you to your date. Don’t think that . . . That didn’t mean
anything
, okay? That was just—”

He frowned. “Comfort?”

“Yes. Absolutely.”

They walked swiftly down the road in silence, Elliott two or three steps behind her, thinking about what the hell had just happened. He had to calm himself. He had the urge to reach out right now and whirl her toward him, yank her back into his arms, kiss her the way he wanted to—kiss her the way she’d been kissing him.

But no was no.

And she’d clearly made up her mind, given the dust flying off her shoes as she scurried away.

“You know it’s two miles down this mountain, right?” he called.

“We’ll survive. If we could survive”—her hand waved again—“
that
, then I think we can survive a little walk down a mountain.”

They walked another quarter of a mile in silence, Elliott cursing himself a hundred ways through his head, wondering if he’d pushed too much, if he’d not pushed enough, if he was an asshole for kissing this woman he desperately wanted against a rock outcropping on a foggy, deserted road while another woman, whom he didn’t want, was waiting for him in her bed.

He shoved his hand through his hair, then slowed as Natalie turned toward him.

“Elliott, we survived
that
.” She grinned.

Her sass was back. Her bravado was back. Gone was the woman who’d crumpled in his arms, who’d held him tight. Gone was the woman who was vulnerable to him for a minute. Gone was the one who let him protect her, who brought him out of his worry that he wouldn’t be courageous enough in the right circumstances, who made him feel brave and courageous and strong. Gone was the woman who’d kissed him.

But his mind stilled for a second on the courageous part. Who knew that all that adrenaline would kick in and allow him to think straight and stay calm when he had someone he needed to protect? He was relieved and grateful—to God, to the universe, to Natalie herself. He breathed a sigh of relief and felt like a changed man.

He started following her again, following the dust flying up behind her USO shoes. He even managed a smile as she reached back and pulled all the loose tendrils of hair into a twist, shoving them under her cap with some pins.

He’d done that to her.

And damned if that kiss was nothing.

Damned if that kiss was comfort.

Her argument
did
serve to soothe their consciences—his regarding Becky and hers regarding her bet—but she’d
kissed
him.

But he chose to join her in denial and kept marching down the hill.