Where Their Hearts Collide: Wardham Book #2 (13 page)

As if Karen had
rung a bell, Carrie’s attention snapped to where she was standing on the sidewalk. She held her friend’s gaze for a moment, but it hurt too much and gave too little.

Nothing good would come of making a scene. Karen sped home, waiting until she was behind her heavy wood door before letting the tears fall.

She hadn’t made it far from that door when, a few hours later, it practically bounced under a quick succession of hard knocks. Too heavy to be Carrie. Sadness unfurled in Karen’s chest at the realization that she wanted it to be her friend. That it wasn’t. And another emotion twisted inside, as the strength of the knocking forewarned that it might be Paul.

That would be
Evie’s doing.
Damn her
.

She braced her heart and wrenched open the door.
“What are you doing here?”

Instead of answering, he lifted two cups of coffee and stepped inside.
He looked good.
Damn him
. And his gazed was filled with far too much understanding. She didn’t want the coffee, or his pity.

“I don’t want it.” She sounded petulant and didn’t care.

“Yes, you do.”

“Not from Bun I don’t.”

“Why do you think I’m here?”

That made her pause. “I...I don’t know.
Evie told you I was upset.”

“
It was Carrie, actually. She told me about the petition.”

“Did she try to get you to sign it?” The words didn’t come out easily. She felt brittle and achy, loaded with fear. She didn’t really want an answer.

He shook his head and set the coffee down with care. “Come here.”

Before she could protest, he’d folded her against his body, tucking her head onto his shoulder. He was wearing a dress shirt, she noticed, as she stared at the pressed collar.

“Why are you dressed up?” she mumbled into his neck.

“Lawyers meeting this morning.”
His breath was hot against her ear, and she wanted nothing more than to sag into him and let go, but that sounded important.

She eased back, leaving her hands on his shoulders, and looked into his eyes. “Is everything okay?”

He nodded. “Just the usual divorced parent stuff.” He placed his hand in the small of her back and steered her into her own living room. “You need to sit.”

His voice was firm, but
kind, and she thought she might just do anything he said in that moment, as he rubbed a small circle on her back, then slid his hand up to her shoulder and pressed her down to the couch.

“Carrie’s not asking people to sign the petition,” he said as he retraced his steps to get the coffees. “She was just put on the spot.”

“I saw her. She didn’t look put on the spot.”

“Apparently Dale’s considering a run for town council.”
And so was Carrie. Paul must have learned an awful lot about the politics of their wee town this afternoon.

Karen leaned back against the cushions and closed her eyes. “Oh god, I just had a hissy fit, didn’t
I?”

Paul chuckled as he joined her on the couch. Even as embarrassment and fear dueled it out throughout most of her mind and body, she was still hyper aware of the heat of his thigh next to hers.
The crispness of his shirt sleeve rubbing against the bare of her upper arm. His smell.

“You’re wearing cologne.”

“I am.”

“You don’t usually wear any.”

“You know that about me?”

She
froze on the spot, eyes still closed. But she could feel he was shifting as his arm lifted up and over her head, and without looking at him, she knew he was close. “Uhm. Yeah. You usually smell like soap.” She tried to stop there, but her mouth didn’t get the message. “And sweat. Not bad sweat, just the nice kind. Fresh, hard working. Honest sweat.”

“You just said sweat three times.”

She blinked her eyes open. She had to see the smile she heard in his voice, and that was a good call, because it was beautiful. A big curving acceptance of whatever gibberish spilled past her lips, a grin that reached all the way to his eyes.

“It’s a good—”

“I get it.” He covered her mouth with his in a chaste kiss, his lips just barely feathering over her skin.

She sighed, and slid her hand over the short hair at the back of his head.
This was a terrible idea, but she’d missed the feel of him so much. He pressed his lips harder against hers, but when she opened for him and darted her tongue out, part invitation, part tease, he pulled back.

“I need to ap
ologize for what happened when you met Susan.”

She really didn’t want to talk about that.
Ever, but definitely not at that moment. “It’s fine.”

“It’s not even a little bit fine.” He rubbed his thumb over her bottom lip. “I’ve missed you.”

Behind her eyelids, hot pressure was building up. “Don’t,” she whispered. “Just kiss me and let’s pretend, just for this afternoon—”

“I don’t want to pretend, Karen.” His voice was low and soothing, hypnotic. If she wasn’t careful, the walls around her heart would crumble before she even noticed. “I…I want to explain.
”

“No!” She gasped the word. “
Please don’t.” She crawled into his lap and pressed hungry, needy little kisses over his jaw and down his neck as she reached for the buttons on his pressed shirt.

His hands closed over hers and he tugged them into her lap. He choked out her name and tipped his forehead to lean against her chin. “That’s not a good idea.”

She wanted to weep. It was the first thing that had felt right all day. Longer than that. For weeks, she’d been hollow. He’d given her a taste of being something special, and she wanted that again. She didn’t want nice words or kindness. She wanted what she’d never had before. To be irresistible. She wanted to make him want her like she wanted him.

But she was in his lap. She could feel that he did. And even though she knew he would stop her again, she rocked against his erection, and at his stifled groan, she let the tears fall. It shouldn’t be this hard.
Nothing like tears to turn a guy off, but when she went to scramble off his lap, he held her tight.

“It shouldn’t be this hard.” This time, the words were whispered out loud. She needed to share the burden in her head, and as he nodded, his cheek rubbing against hers, the pain eased a little.

“I know, darlin’. I wish it were different.” His voice was gruff and tight. “But I can’t do that.”

She nodded blindly as he wiped the tears from her cheek, and after a minute of soaking up his warmth, she eased back to the couch.

“You know this petition isn’t going to get any real air, right? Everyone gets that you need to move on.” She glanced up as his voice strained over the last two words. She wished she hadn’t. His face was tight and pinched. It made her want things that would never be. Whatever his reasons for staying locked up tight, she wasn’t going to sway him. “No one wants to hold you back from your dream.”

“What to do with the store…it’s not even my decision, you know? I don’t know why I’m taking this so personally.” She laughed, but even to her own ears it sounded harsh and hollow. “I’m thirty-four, and I want my mommy and daddy to come home and fix my problems.”

“They should come home and fix their own problems. They’ve depended on you for far too long.”

Paul leaned back against the couch and stretched out his legs, a deliberate attempt to make himself chill out. He’d stopped at the coffee shop on his way home from the city and interrupted a heated discussion between Karen’s friends. As soon as they saw him, the blond one told the redhead that he was the perfect messenger of peace. If he hadn’t guessed they were talking about Karen, he would have high-tailed it in the other direction.

Since they were talking about Karen, he pulled up a bar stool.

And now he’d done the opposite of what he’d come here to do. He’d riled her up, and now he was insulting her parents, to whom she was probably inordinately close. He didn’t want to think about any of that. He wanted to haul her back onto his lap, strip off her clothes, and feast himself on her body.

But that’s what old Paul would do. And he wouldn’t think twice about exposing his daughter to a short-term relationship that had no future.

Not anymore. Not even if it killed him.

But Karen didn’t know that. From the furtive side glances she kept giving him, it was clear he’d done yet another piss-poor job of explaining himself.
Because now’s not the time.
No. His task was to make Karen know she was wanted by the town. Not himself. That would just lead to further confusion and heartache. At this rate, probably his own, the irony of which wasn’t lost on him.
Payback’s a bitch
.

“I talked to my mom this afternoon. They’
ll be back in early July.”

“Good.”
Some of his tension seeped away, and he reached out to take her hand.
Friends hold hands
. That wasn’t why he wanted to touch her, but it was a reasonable excuse. “What I said before, about missing you. I really have.”

She laced her fingers into his and offered a firm squeeze.
“Yeah. Me, too.”

“If something else like this happens, you text me, okay?”

“Yeah?” Surprise danced across her face.

“What are friends for?” The word stuck in his throat. He coughed.
Man up
. “You deserve to have someone in your corner. And that will always be me, got it?”

“Sure.” Her smile was small, but genuine.

He leaned closer, breathing her in, and his chest ached at what was so close and so impossibly off-limits.
If only everything was different
. If only something was different. All it would take is one factor to shift. If she stayed in town. If he could travel more. If Megan was older. If he had more flexibility with Susan. Even after today’s meeting, even without the specter of a custody dispute hanging over him, he needed to stay focused.

As easy as it would be to lose
himself in her, that wouldn’t be fair to either of them. He kissed her on the cheek and pulled back, letting her hand go at the same time. Letting her go, and in the process, finding a way to be close again.

“How about, the next night I have free, we go to Danny’s. Hold your head up high and celebrate your new adventure.”

“You’d meet me there?” The smile was bigger this time.

“I’d walk you to and from if it guaranteed you’d always be with a friend.”

She leaned back and let out a little laughing noise. After all they’d been through, and almost been through, that’s what they’d end up being—friends.

It could be worse.

It could be so much better
.

Dale’s
petition was still being circulated, but it had been banned from Danny’s, and Bun, and Mrs. Wilkins had started stopping people on the street and telling them to mind their own business about what happened to the store, which was irony of the highest order, but Karen appreciated the support.

The first
time she met Paul at Danny’s as friends had been hard, but he was there when she arrived, and he walked her home. A few days later, he sent a text message asking if she wanted to meet at Danny’s again, this time for trivia night. Again, he walked her home.

It was delicious agony spending time with him in an outwardly platonic way. Inside her head, they were having sex almost constantly, and she was pretty sure he knew that, but they didn’t so much as bump elbows when out and about or brush arms on the walks home.
No more kisses, however chaste, and no more handholding.

Instead, they talked.
About Megan, and Karen’s options for school, and Wardham. She gave him tips for the best apple orchards and fall fairs, and they talked about catching up over Thanksgiving. He even helped her put up signs about renting out her house.

She’d mended her relationship with Carrie, but it was Paul who’d surprisingly become the person she turned to first for almost everything in her life. And still they didn’t touch. They didn’t dare, as if they both knew their
friendship was too precarious to survive temptation.

The terms of their new relationship seemed generous with respect to
time of day. She’d woken up early one morning, only to have her cell phone go off five minutes later. Paul had just arrived home from a night shift and noticed her light on. They talked for a few minutes before he went to bed, but it was enough of a precedent that when she came home from a trip to Toronto one night in late June, and his light was on, she thought about knocking on his door.

But they hadn’t crossed that boundary again.
Hadn’t spent time together in either of their homes. Like they both knew that would be asking too much.

So instead she pulled out her phone. He picked up right away, and she smiled at his warm greeting.

“I just got back. It went well. I found a couple of apartment options and visited the school. Did some shopping, had sushi for dinner.” She opened her car door, pausing for a moment to give Hermoine a loving pat. They’d avoided rush hour neatly, and the drive home had been fun. Lee Brice on the stereo, windows down…she wouldn’t mind being in the city if all trips home were that easy. It would be hard in the winter, but it would be worth it to see—