Angling for you, p.17
Angling for You, page 17
“What does that mean?”
She huffed a frustrated sigh. “You…you affect me, okay?”
“You affect me too.”
She flailed her free hand, and he was gratified that she didn’t take the opportunity to pull the hand he held away. “My judgment in the past. It was bad.”
He froze, considering the implications. “The guy from before? The guy you’re not ready to talk about?”
“Yes. The ‘bad ex.’ It’s such a cliché.” She bit her lip, her eyes rolling up to look at the ceiling. “We were in college. I was, as always, strapped for cash. He convinced me to move in with him, to sell my car—to save money. He told me he could take care of me. That I could trust him.”
“What happened?”
“I knew I shouldn’t. Bestemor’s biggest ‘A Halvorsen is’ statement ended with ‘not beholden.’ And my family never liked him.” Her gaze dropped to her hands, tightly gripped in her lap. “But I thought I was in love. I thought he loved me. I was wrong on both accounts.”
Dread prickled up Graham’s spine. “And?”
“My grandfather had a heart attack. I called Eric at work for a ride to the hospital. He said he’d come get me. I waited.”
“And he didn’t come.” A slow burning fury spread through Graham’s bloodstream.
Sam shook her head, her hair curtaining her face as she continued to look at her lap. “No. Not in time. He finished out his shift at work instead of coming to get me right away like he said he would. And my grandfather died. I wasn’t there. His only granddaughter and I wasn’t there. Because I trusted someone I shouldn’t.” Her next words came in a rush. “We broke up right after that. I had to get an place to live. And a car. On no notice with no money. It took me years to work free of the debt.”
“I see.” Graham clamped his teeth together to keep from saying something like, “We’re not all like that.” Not all men. Right. He wasn’t going to convince her he was different with words.
She took a deep breath, obviously collecting herself. “So, I’m a bit like Honey. A little skittish.”
He bit back a smile, thinking about the times when he’d thought the same thing. “…And today was a bit of an emotional roller coaster.”
Her shoulders sagged. “Yeah. I guess it was.” She stroked Honey’s head and she yawned, her tongue poking out in a tiny pink blep between her lips. “Silly girl.”
“What do you want to do? Should I take you home?” The rain was still coming down hard, pooling in places on the stone patio beyond the sliding glass door.
She followed his gaze, looking out at the rain. “I don’t want to overstay my welcome.”
“But you’d like to stay?”
She nodded, her cheeks going pink. “This…being here with you, with Honey. It’s nice. It’s homey. My apartment, well, it isn’t.”
Her expression was so bleak, so vulnerable. He thought about that tiny living room, the old, worn furniture, the plastic shelving, and squeezed her hand. “How about this? We’ll order a pizza. Maybe watch something on television. See what happens with the weather with how we feel. Decide later.”
A slow smile spread across her face, beautiful as a sunrise. “I’d love that.”
Sam reached for the pizza box, her hand colliding with Graham’s. “Ooh. Sorry.” There was one piece left. “Was the last one yours?”
His eyes crinkled with amusement as he paused the television. “I wasn’t keeping track. Wait a minute.” He got up and walked to the kitchen, returning with a knife. Cutting the pizza slice and handing her half, he said, “I’m just glad you like sausage and mushroom as much as I do.”
“Mmm.” She bit into the cool pizza. She wasn’t still hungry, just in that state of mouth wants more with no active disagreement from her stomach. Graham’s slice was arrested halfway to his mouth. “What?” she asked, covering her mouth with her free hand as she chewed.
He shook his head, pressed his lips together, seemed to come to a decision. “I’ve loved watching you eat for a long time.”
Sam laughed, coughing and half-choking on her pizza. “A long time? You’ve known me for all of…three weeks?”
Graham pushed his glasses to the top of his head and rubbed his eyes. “Is it okay to confess that I’ve been attracted to you from pretty much the beginning?”
Heat flared through her body, accompanied by bewilderment and a strange shyness. “What do you mean by ‘pretty much the beginning’?”
He put the untasted pizza back in the box, taking a deep breath and pushing his glasses up on his nose. “I noticed you. With Gina. In the library. God, that sounds like I’m playing Clue.”
“You noticed me?” Sam fizzed with nervous energy. “When? Why? How?”
One of Graham’s hands captured hers and his jaw worked. “I saw you in the library. A few days before we met. But that put you in the ‘can’t have’ category. So, when I saw you on the trail, I knew I was putting myself into dangerous territory.”
“Little knowing you were putting yourself into my own ‘can’t have’ territory.” Sam squeezed Graham’s hands.
“Exactly.”
“Does this…excite you?” Sam blurted.
“What?”
In for a penny, in for a pound. “The…forbidden thing.”
Graham wrinkled his nose, his glasses hitching up adorably. “Not really. Does it excite you?”
“No, but there isn’t a taboo against fly fishing guides and their clients. There is for professors and students.”
“I’m not a professor…and besides, do I seem like that kind of a guy?” He drew back, releasing her hands and Sam wanted to kick herself.
“No, but you never know. You’re the one who keeps telling me how careful I need to be.”
“I thought you said you trusted me.” His voice was light, but there was a wary look in his eyes she wanted to erase.
“I do...” And I’ve told you my most embarrassing story of poor judgment and heartache.
He stretched and his tee shirt rode up a little, exposing a strip of belly. She inhaled, wanting to run her fingers across his skin. He slapped his hands on his knees, oblivious to her distraction. “I suppose that’s my cue to take you home.”
Sam’s normally guarded expression collapsed into utter dismay so completely, Graham almost laughed. He had been a little insulted at first at her wariness, but she was right, especially considering her history. Taking it slowly was the right way to go about this.
“Oh. Okay. If you think so…” Her attempt to collect herself again was so transparent, so adorable, Graham felt like a heel.
“You don’t have to.”
She rubbed her palms on her thighs. “I can’t exactly hang around forever.”
“No, but…” He searched for a plausible excuse. Honey shifted on the sofa, her head butting into Sam’s hip. “Honey wants you to stay.”
“Oh, of course she does.” Sam looked down at the dog, still blissfully asleep and twitching a little.
“What do you think she’s dreaming about?” he asked.
A corner of her mouth curled up. “Kicking that stupid Winston’s ass?”
“I’d buy that.” He reached across Sam and caressed the dog’s head. Honey whuffled and seemed to sink past the dream, her body quieting, her breathing growing steady. “Really. If you want, you can stay. Spend the night if you want. I’ll sleep on the couch.”
“You will not.” She folded her arms across her chest and glared at him. “There’s no way I’m kicking you out of your bed.”
Her fierceness spread a warm glow through his chest. “Okay, fine. What do you want? Go or stay? Anything’s on the table here.”
“Anything?” The mischievous glimmer in her eye made his breath catch and his throat thicken.
“Anything within reason. I mean, I can’t offer the Hope diamond or anything…”
She paused, licked her lips, looked at her hands, her fingers twisted together. “I’d like to stay. But I’m not sure if that’s smart.”
“Why isn’t it smart?”
“I liked kissing you. I’d like more. I’m just not sure if I’m ready yet. And that doesn’t sound fair to you.”
“I’ll be the judge of what’s fair to me.” He reached out, disentangling her fingers and holding one of her hands lightly in his. “You want to stay. You don’t want to kick me out of my bed. I’m guessing you don’t want to sleep on the couch either.”
“I will if that’s the best thing.”
“I don’t think it’s the best thing.” He swallowed. “I think the best thing is if I go and find you a spare toothbrush. Then we sleep in my bed. Just sleeping. Then we wake up tomorrow and keep figuring things out. If you want to go home at any time, you just tell me. I’ll get the keys and we’ll go. No questions asked. How does that sound?”
Sam heaved a deep, shuddering sigh. “That sounds really nice.”
“Great. Then let’s get you set. Unless you want to stay up longer.”
She shook her head. “No. I’m beat. I’m betting you are too.”
“Oh, no. Running around in the rain after my fool dog is part of my usual workout routine.”
“Shh. She can hear you.” Sam covered Honey’s exposed ear with one hand and frowned.
“She can’t hear a thing. She’s dead to the world. Come with me.” He got to his feet and extended a hand to pull her up.
“Honey’s not coming?” Sam asked as she rose.
“No. She’s allowed on the couch but most definitely not on the bed.”
He kept her hand in his as he moved to the hall closet outside his bedroom. He savored the feel of her skin against his and regretted the necessity of letting go so he could rummage for a toothbrush for her. Finding what he was looking for, he pressed a package into Sam’s hand. “Here. My dentist gives me a new toothbrush at every visit, but I like a different brand. These build up. You’re doing me a favor.” He smiled at the weak joke.
Sam looked down at the toothbrush. “Thanks.”
“Everything okay?” Graham touched her shoulder with his fingertips.
“Yeah.” She swallowed, her eyes flickering down then back up to his face. “Think I can borrow a tee shirt to sleep in? I’m toasty now and I think I’d overheat if I wore this to bed.”
“Of course.” She was nervous about asking to borrow a tee shirt? His tee shirt that he’d love to see her in? He led her to his bedroom and pulled a soft giveaway tee from a conference out of a drawer. “Here. Go ahead and go first in the bathroom. I’ll be here when you get out.”
Attacking her teeth with unusual vigor, Sam glared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. Graham’s easy acceptance of them sharing a bed…platonically…should have reassured her. Between her experience with Eric and her focus on work and school for the last few years, she hadn’t dated anyone. She knew she was on shaky ground for her confidence, her self-esteem—hell, for everything. She wasn’t even sure if she knew how dating worked anymore.
But he didn’t have to be so cool about it.
Yeah, you’re such a sexy siren. How can he resist you?
Pushing aside the sarcastic thoughts, she spat toothpaste in the sink and rinsed out her mouth. Ran her tongue over her teeth. Looked at her reflection. Straightened her shoulders. Her breasts pressed against the material of the tee shirt he had given her, her nipples clearly visible against the thin cotton.
Yow. Okay.
She set her jaw and opened the bathroom door, keeping her chin high and resisting the urge to cross her arms across her chest. And swallowed. Graham had changed into a pair of pajama pants, discarding the long-sleeved tee he had worn earlier. His body was lean and fit skin over muscle wrapping over bone in exactly the right proportions for her. Chest hair leading to that trail down his belly…
Stop.
She swallowed again, the taste of unfamiliar toothpaste in her mouth. “Hi. Um. Bathroom’s yours.”
Graham dragged his gaze from her breasts to her face, crossed his arms across his chest, scratched his arms, let his hands fall to his sides. “Uh, great. The bed…well. It’s there. Which you can see. And I’m going to…” He disappeared into the bathroom, the door shutting with a firm click behind him. Sam licked her lips, suppressing the hysterical giggles that threatened to choke her.
Seeing the clock and the book sitting on the nightstand on the right side of the bed, she lifted the sheet on the left. She slid under the covers, snuggling the pillow against her cheek, somehow comforted by the fact that he seemed to be as unnerved by their situation as she was.
Graham shut the bathroom door behind him. Congratulations, genius. You’re just too smooth for words just because you have a woman you want more than you want to breathe in your bed. Her nipples poking through the cotton of his tee shirt had completely derailed his brain. The library association’s conference logo had never looked better. But he could rise above it. He had to. He took a deep breath and turned away from the door.
Her dress was dangling from the shower curtain rail.
And her bra.
And her panties.
Graham’s scalp was tight, his groin was tighter.
Of course. Her underwear had gotten soaked in the downpour. His had too. But he’d been able to strip to the skin and put on whatever he wanted to. She was literally limited to what he gave her. She was wearing nothing at all, her skin against his clothing.
The thought ratcheted his tension even tighter.
Toothbrush. Yes. That was right. Clean teeth. Climb into bed. Go to sleep. Try not to be jealous of a tee shirt and a pair of flannel pants. That’s the plan.
Graham grabbed his toothbrush, noticing the one she had used sitting on the edge of the sink. He cleaned his teeth, examining the results in the mirror for a few moments too long before he realized he was delaying the moment he walked out and slid into bed next to her.
Go on. You got this.
Graham swallowed hard and opened the door. Sam was curled on her side, her eyes open, tracking him as he walked to the bed. Trusting. Trusting him. He now knew the value of that gift.
“I saw your stuff on that side, so I figured I should be over here. Is that okay?”
“Of course.” Whatever she wanted. Her hair fanned out on the pillow, her face was tired and vulnerable. He climbed in next to her, took his glasses off and stretched an arm to turn off the light, rolling to lie on his side, facing her, the dim light of the moon through the window giving the faintest impression of her next to him. “You don’t need anything else?”
She chuckled softly. “What would I need?”
“I don’t know. A glass of water?” What was he saying? This was ludicrous.
“I’m not five. I can find the bathroom if I need water in the middle of the night.” Her voice was soft and humorous in the darkness.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. It’s sweet. And thanks.”
“For what?”
“For everything. For taking me to the wedding today, for not murdering me when I lost Honey, for dinner. For this.”
“For being a great companion at the wedding? For taking care of my dog and doing the right thing when she spooked and coming to get me? For buying a freaking pizza? You’re welcome. But I’m curious. What’s that last ‘this’ to you?”
The covers rustled and a pause stretched between them in the dark. “Not being alone. At least for one night. And not demanding anything more than that.”
“I don’t have the right to demand anything.”
“Maybe not, but it doesn’t stop plenty of other people.”
“Plenty of other men?”
“Maybe.”
His jaw tightened. He wanted to tug her to him, to wrap his body around hers, to tell her nobody could ever demand anything from her ever again. To stand between her and the world that was so hard on her. But to do that would be making a demand of a different kind. A demand that she let him protect her. And if there was anything he had learned about Samantha Halvorsen at this point, it was that she was first and foremost her own protector, her own best defense.
Sam curled in on herself, wanting more than anything to curl into Graham instead, to let someone else take on the world. But no. This was enough, this bubble of security. Of warmth. Of a feeling of belonging she hadn’t had since Bestemor died.
It might be a lie, but for tonight it was a lie she was going to believe. She could make believe for one night that she might have a life like this. She remembered a line from a movie she’d seen once: “Love, and a bit with a dog.” Yeah. That was what she was going to call today. If that was all it was, she would have it. Something preserved and pure, a day where someone wanted to spend time with her, chose a route that included a ferry ride just so she could look at a river, teach her to dance, to cuddle a lovable dog, to steal some kisses, to be warm and cared for in a comfortable bed.
Her life wasn’t like that. She had to remember this simple fact. This interlude of warmth and peace wasn’t for her in the longer term. When they revisited the situation in the morning he’d come to his senses and realize they should keep things professional between them. Simple.
And if she wanted more from the warm, lean body on the other side of the bed?
Well, she’d learned to live with disappointment.
Chapter Eighteen
Graham drifted awake, the sun filtering through the trees outside his house sending dancing lights across his closed eyes. He stretched, rolling to his side and opening his eyes. This close to her, even without his glasses, he could focus on Sam, still asleep, curled up facing him, her hands folded under her face like a child. He wanted to trace the line of her cheekbone, the arch of her nose, to wake her gently with feather-light kisses.
But he had permission to do exactly none of those things.
As if she could feel his gaze on her, her breath quickened and she shifted, her eyes opening. A shy almost-smile hovered in her eyes.
“What?” she asked.
