“I don’t want a million.” She took another sip of coffee. Some foam clung to her red lips, and she licked it away. Tanner tried to pull his eyes away, but he couldn’t. It was too mesmerizing.
“What do you want?” he asked, his voice thick.
“I just want people to know I got this job under my own merits. Because I’m good at what I do. I don’t want the gossips saying you gave me a job because you feel sorry for me or…” She sighed. “Or that I’m sleeping my way to the top.”
“But you’re not.”
“That’s not how they’ll see it. People are already talking about us.”
“They are? Who?” His brows pulled together as he looked at her.
“Your sister for one.”
“Becca said something to you?” His frown deepened. “I’ll speak to her.”
“No, don’t.” Van shook her head. “She was just being silly. Asking me if I was single. Telling me that you were.”
He took a deep breath. His chest felt strange. As tight as it did the last time he finished a marathon. “Are you single?” he asked her. His breath caught in his throat as he waited for her answer.
She tipped her head to the side, her hair falling over one shoulder. “I am.” She nodded.
Good.
They’d made it to the edge of the creek. Van lifted her hand to her brow to block out the sun. “Remember when we tried to build a raft?” she asked him.
He smiled. The water was glistening, reflecting the solar rays that hit it. “Yeah. I remember how it sunk as soon as you climbed on it.”
She laughed, and it looked good on her. Way too good. “I only climbed on it because you were too scared to.”
“Too sensible, you mean.”
Her gaze met his. “You always were the one with more common sense.”
“I wanted to be like you. Fearless. You were never scared of anything.”
Her lips parted. He could see the tip of her tongue peeking through. “I was scared,” she said. “I just hid it well. I find that harder to do as time goes on.”
“What are you scared of now?” he asked. He could feel the blood pumping through him, heating up his skin. A gust of wind lifted her hair, leaving a tendril stuck to her lips. He reached out to pull it away, tucking it behind her ear.
Her skin was warm. Soft. Everything he remembered.
“How long have you got?” she asked him. “The list is long.”
His eyes met hers again. “I can listen for as long as it takes.”
God he loved the way she smiled. The sun dipped behind a cloud, the shadow cooling his skin. He could feel his heart pumping in a steady rhythm against his ribcage. Standing there by the creek, she looked like the image of a country girl. Golden and tanned, her pretty dress doing nothing to hide the delicate curves of her body. He wanted to scoop her up and pull her against him, then kiss her so damn hard until they were both breathless.
The moment flickered between them, sending a pink flush to her cheeks. Her lips parted, as though she was trying to catch her breath.
There was no point in fighting it, this aching need he had for her. It had taken on a life of its own. It made him feel emotions he hadn’t felt in a long time. Things he’d told himself he didn’t need. And yet now they felt like air to him.
“Savannah,” he said, his fingers unfurling as he reached out to cup her cheek. Her skin was so damn warm and soft. He brushed the nape of her neck with his fingers, and she swallowed hard.
“You never call me Savannah,” she whispered, her voice almost a sigh.
“You never used to let me.” His thumb traced the line of her cheek, down to the corner of her full lips. “You refused to answer to it.”
“It’s a weak name.”
His eyes dipped to her mouth. “No it’s not. It can’t be. It’s your name and you’re the strongest person I know.”
He slid his hand to her neck, her soft hair brushing against his knuckles. She swallowed hard, her neck undulating, her eyes trained on his. He couldn’t tell if she was breathing. All he could hear was the soft rustle of the leaves as the afternoon breeze danced around them, and the pounding of the blood as it rushed through his ears.
Her eyes dilated as he bent his head toward her, his lips a breath away from hers. She parted her mouth, her breath catching in her throat, and he felt the need to taste her in every inch of his body.
“I’m sorry.” She stepped back, her chest rising and falling rapidly. “That was weird. I don’t know what just happened.” She pulled her coffee cup to her chest, as though it was some kind of shield. “Maybe it’s Becca’s fault. For talking about us being single.” Van shook her head. “It’s been a long day.”
Tanner’s brow pulled down. “It wasn’t you. It was me.” He’d wanted to kiss her. Ached for it. Still did. But there she was, her expression full of regret, her body set in a stance that screamed keep away. “I’m sorry, too.”
“Maybe I should add something to my terms,” she said, lifting her lips into a smile. One that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “No weirdness between us. Just a boss and employee relationship.”
“No weirdness, right.” He nodded slowly. “I’ll be sure to write that into your contract.”
“Seriously, though.” Her smile softened. “I don’t want to do anything that affects our working relationship.” She looked down at the dry grass growing around their feet. “I haven’t ruined it before it’s begun, have I?”
“Of course you haven’t.” He offered her a small smile. “We’re all good here.”
Van blew out a mouthful of air. “Thank goodness. Because I need this job. Almost as much as I need for the whole town not to be talking about me.” Her eyes finally lifted to his. “And as much as I need you to be my friend.”
He could see the plea inside her stare. “I’ll always be your friend. And nobody’s going to be talking about you,” he promised. Her shoulders visibly relaxed. “Come on,” he said, reaching for her hand. “Let’s go for a walk.”
If she wanted him to be her friend, then that’s what he’d be. Even if it killed him from the inside out.
He’d lost her once because of poor judgment. He wasn’t planning on doing it again. He’d be her friend, her employer, whatever else she wanted him to be.
For now, that was enough. It had to be.
Chapter Fourteen
“Hey, I heard you were back in town.” Tanner looked up from his phone to see a tall blond guy standing next to his table in the diner. He blinked for a moment, before recognition finally dawned. Nate Daniels hadn’t changed that much, after all. His hair was thinner, his face more weathered but he’d recognize that wide smile anywhere.
He and Nate had been pretty close at school, both playing on the football team. They’d even both gone to Duke. But they’d lost touch somewhere along the way as Tanner grew his business in New York and Nate settled down back in Hartson’s Creek, working for his dad’s firm of local attorneys. It was strange, seeing him in a business suit instead of their old uniform of t-shirt and jeans. Or on a Friday night, their football gear.