Her breathing hitched, and a pulse began to throb in the hollow of her throat—but she didn’t back off.
Inch by unhurried inch he bent down, signaling his intent, giving her every opportunity to change her mind and back away.
She didn’t budge.
So he touched his lips to hers.
They were soft, lush . . . and far more receptive—and responsive—than he’d expected.
In a heartbeat, the simple kiss he’d intended as a gentle affirmation of his affection became much more.
And unless his instincts were failing him, it was generating megawatts of electricity on both sides.
How long it continued, he had no idea. The world around them faded away, the distant thunder of the waves breaking against the sea stacks and the caw of the gulls overhead nothing more than a faint soundtrack for their embrace.
In the end, he was the one who eased away. Not because he wanted to, but because he wanted much more—and even a man with well-honed willpower had his limits.
Katherine stared at him, eyes wide and slightly glazed, clinging to his arms as if she needed support—and balance.
He could relate.
“That was”—she swallowed—“unexpected.”
“I hope not unwanted.” Unless he’d read her signals all wrong, there was no danger of that.
“No—but it feels . . . premature.”
“Not to me. I care about you—and I think we have potential.”
“No.” With a vehement shake of her head, she stepped back. Wrapped her arms around her middle. “That would complicate everything.”
“Or simplify it.”
She studied him. “What do you mean?”
Excellent question.
Trying to influence her decisions by hinting at promises that might be difficult to keep would be wrong. Despite the connection between them, it was too soon to let her make choices about her life and career based on instincts or intuition.
“I’m not sure.” That was a cop-out. He knew exactly what he’d meant, but it was too early to have this discussion. “All I know is I like you. A lot. But I don’t have the gift of prophecy.”
“Nor do I—or a crystal ball. Who knows what the future holds?” She motioned toward the path again. “You should get going.”
“Yeah.” He couldn’t ruin the tenderloin Stephanie had thoughtfully provided. “Why don’t you stop by The Perfect Blend tomorrow?”
“I’ll think about it.” Without waiting for him to respond, she strode away.
Fighting the urge to call to her again, he filled his lungs. What could he say, after all? Pass on the movie role? Ditch Hollywood? Move to Hope Harbor? Find a new path? Give us a chance?
None of those were appropriate at this stage of their relationship.
All he could do was hope she stayed in town long enough for them to find out if they had a future—and pray for guidance.
For both of them.
14
Frank—Zach gave me your email address. Thought you might be interested in the attached. I plan to go. If you’d like to join me, we could share a ride and keep a few greenhouse gases out of the atmosphere. Stephanie
Frank reread the message and clicked on the attachment.
A photographer who’d published a book about exploring the hidden corners of America’s national parks was giving a talk at the community college in Coos Bay on Tuesday night. In three days.
Leaning back in his chair in the spare bedroom that doubled as an office/study, he swiveled toward the window, where dust motes were dancing in the sunbeams streaming through the glass.
How about that?
Catching a woman’s eye was no small ego boost at any age—but at sixty-three?
It was downright amazing.
And not just any woman’s eye, either.
Stephanie Garrett was in a class by herself. With her toned, youthful figure and radiant vivaciousness, she faced the world with a sparkle of enthusiasm in her green eyes and a can-do attitude.
Zach’s aunt was proof that age was a matter of attitude rather than years. She was young—and would always remain so.
He rocked back in his chair and linked his fingers over his stomach.
It was flattering that she’d contacted him about a date—but her initiative wasn’t surprising. Stephanie seemed like a woman who was used to taking charge and going after what she wanted.
Apparently she wanted him.
Or at least she wanted to get to know him.
A tiny quiver fluttered to life in the pit of his stomach, taking him back to the long-ago days when he’d been an insecure teen who got sweaty palms and a racing heart whenever he called a girl to ask her out . . . and a rush of thrilling euphoria if she said yes.
It wasn’t the only trip down memory lane Zach’s aunt had induced either.
His first encounter with her had also tapped into a buried trove of emotions, reminding him how he’d felt during his junior-year crush on the lead cheerleader at his high school. How he’d yearned for her to notice him, and experienced a buoyant sense of optimism and hope whenever he’d passed her in the hall.
Except his hopes had gone unfulfilled. For all he knew, she’d never even known his name.
Stephanie, however, had done more than notice him.
She’d invited him out.
His smile widened as he watched a fluffy white cloud drift past the window against the deep blue sky.
Who could ever have predicted that such a smart, successful, spirited woman would be interested in him?
Trouble was, she was out of his league.
His delight dimmed a few watts, and he leaned his head against the back of his chair. Stared at the ceiling.
As he’d told Zach, they were from two different worlds. Asking him to join her at a national park–themed event was thoughtful, but would she go by herself if he declined her invitation?
Doubtful.
More likely, she’d seek out a new art gallery opening or ballet performance or a talk by a business leader.
Besides, while she might enjoy watching a presentation of photos from the great outdoors, what were the odds she’d relish hiking in an actual forest or canoeing on a mountain lake, far from civilization?
Not that it mattered.
Straightening up, he brushed a shortbread crumb off his sleeve, a leftover from his shift at The Perfect Blend.
He wasn’t in the market for another romance. Jo Ann had been all the woman he ever needed. Full of pep, always ready for the next adventure, a true companion whose interests and passions and priorities had been in sync with his from day one.
Having her by his side for thirty-seven glorious years had been the greatest blessing of his life.
His vision misted, and he sniffed. Dug out a handkerchief.
Carrying on after she died had been hard, but with frequent prayer and countless pep talks, he’d managed to carve out a new life here in Hope Harbor.
And he was as content as he could be without her.
Or he had been, until a certain New York executive walked into his peaceful world and stirred the pot.
Swiveling away from the sunshine, he blew his nose and stowed the handkerchief. Skimmed the flyer again. Reread her note.
Despite all his misgivings and internal naysaying, a tiny part of him wanted to accept the invitation.
But that could be easily explained. He was flattered by her interest. What man wouldn’t be? The little buzz riffing along his nerve endings was nothing more than normal male reaction to attention from a beautiful woman.