~
Soon the storm passed, and Goldilocks began to wonder if the bear wasn’t so foul-tempered after all…if the bear was perhaps a little bit wonderful.
~
When Thea woke again sunlight was streaming into the room and the bed was empty. She sat up, holding the covers close to her chest as she glanced around the house.
“Niall?” she called.
No answer. She could almost believe she dreamed him up if not for the soreness between her legs. Last night had happened. She’d had sex multiple times with a too hot guy and it had felt just right. Nothing had ever felt as right in her life. She released a shuddering breath.
She slipped from the bed and padded barefoot into the bathroom. She reached for her clothes, testing them. Mostly dry.
Turning on the shower, she jumped in and quickly washed herself. Her skin was chafed from his beard in several places. Her neck, breasts. Between her thighs. Heat flamed her face when she recalled those places his beard had been. Finished, she emerged from the shower and was wrapping a towel around herself as the door to the bathroom opened.
Niall stepped inside and the space seemed to shrink. He was dressed, wearing a jacket, sweater, and jeans. The crisp scent of wind clung to him. Clearly, he’d been outdoors.
She felt shy. Dressed and with the bright light of day between them, she remembered she knew next to nothing about this man. “Good morning.”
Instead of returning the greeting, his eyes raked her up and down as she stood there dripping with his towel wrapped around her. After some moments, he asked in his taciturn way, “Hungry?”
“Yes, food would be good.”
Turning, he left her in the bathroom.
She dressed in her clothes that were fully dry now and emerged as he was pulling toast from a toaster. Eggs cooked in a pan on the stove. She inhaled the delicious aroma. He glanced at her and went back to scrambling eggs.
“Smells yummy. Can I help with anything?” she asked, trying not to feel awkward.
He lifted one shoulder in a shrug.
Okay. She watched him a moment longer and then moved into the kitchen area, opening cabinets until she located the plates. She removed two and moved to stand by him at the stove.
He didn’t say anything as she held one out. He glanced at it and then scooped eggs onto the plate. She held out the other one and he followed suit. She reached for the toast, placing one on each plate.
She turned for the table and set them down, each one across from each other. She turned to fetch utensils, but he already had them. He nodded at her and set a fork on the side of each plate. “Sit. Eat.”
She obliged, trying not to feel uncomfortable as she watched him move about the kitchen space. He fetched butter and what looked like a jar of jam from the refrigerator. “You drink coffee?” he asked, reaching for the pot that was already made.
“Yes. Thank you.” He brought two mugs over and poured the steaming liquid into one for her. She stared at his hands, the tapering fingers and short-nailed blunt tips. Her face warmed remembering their texture, the sensation on her skin. How strong they felt. How safe and worshipped and so very right they’d made her feel. No one ever made her feel like that. For one brief, terrifying moment she worried no one ever would again. Then, she shook off the fear. If that were true, then at least she had last night. She’d cherish that memory.
She lifted the mug to her face and inhaled the wonderful aroma, trying to act composed. “It smells great.” She took her first savoring sip, letting the caffeine seep into her system.
They ate in silence for a while and she marveled that he had spoken more during sex. There was nothing about this man that smacked of shyness or reticence. Light of day brought reality. If he wasn’t talking to her now it was because he didn’t want to. He didn’t want to talk to her.
She moistened her lips and reached for her slice of toast. “When do you think you’ll check on the road?”
“Already did.”
She froze as she held a slice of toast to her lips. He’d already checked the road? He’d said nothing about it to her. “You did?”
He drank from his mug, staring at her over the rim. “Aye,” he answered as he set his coffee back down on the table. “Water’s still too high to cross.”
“Oh.” The news left her with mixed feelings. She wanted to stay. She didn’t want last night to be all there was. But she wanted him to want her to stay … with the same desperate hunger she felt, with the same longing. “I’m sorry for putting you out.”
He stared at her silently.
She moistened her lips. “I’m sure you have things to do. Please don’t let me inconvenience you. Don’t let me keep you from what you need to do today.”
What else could she say? This man had never wanted her here. He’d made that abundantly clear. They’d had their one-night stand and she couldn’t even do him the courtesy of hitting the road after it was done. She’d never had a one-night stand, but she knew how they worked. That’s why they were called one-night stands.
And then suddenly it was important she ask. Important she knew. She cleared her throat and lifted her chin. “Do you want me to stay?”
Maybe it was just her ego at work, demanding to hear him say he wanted her here. As seconds ticked by, she repeated the question. “Do you want me to stay?”
“There’s not really a choice right now, is there?” He stabbed some egg onto his fork. “There’s no getting through the road. Maybe tomorrow, but more than likely the day after. It should be passable then.”
So another day. Maybe two.
She fought against the excitement that threatened to overwhelm her. This was forced proximity. He wasn’t saying he’d like her to stay.
“That’s not what I asked you.” She held his gaze and spoke slowly, enunciating each word. “Do you want me to stay here?”
He stared at her, still frustratingly mute, not offering what she craved to hear, what she needed to hear. After last night, she had to know. Was this truly a one-night stand?
Or was something more happening here?
Please, let it be more.
She knew what she wanted him to say, but as they regarded each other in silence, she grew certain she wasn’t going to hear what she wanted. He wasn’t capable of telling her what he didn’t feel.
Of course, something more wasn’t happening here. She’d shown up here unwanted and unwelcomed and had a surprising night of sex with a too hot guy. Great sex. But it was just sex and now it was over.
She knew what she had to do.
Thea pushed up from the table and carried her dishes to the sink. She made quick work of washing them and putting them in the dish rack to drain. She wouldn’t leave him with more work because of her. She would clean up after herself, and it would be like she was never here. A pang near her heart accompanied that thought.
She heard his chair scrape back from the table. He carried his dishes to the sink where she worked. “Allow me.” She smiled tightly and reached to take them from him. “You cooked, after all. It’s the least I can do.”
She gripped the plates, and then realized he wasn’t giving them up. She looked up at him, angling her head inquiringly.
They shared a long look, full of the heat and the memory of last night. It hovered between them a crackling, palpable thing. She held her breath, hoping he would do something. Say something. Touch her. Kiss her. Throw her down on the bed and never let her leave.
That didn’t happen. Because that would be crazy. The stuff of movies and romance novels. Not reality.
He released the plates into her hands and turned away. His solid footsteps thudded across the house. He paused near the door and lifted his jacket off a wall hook and slipped it on. “I’ll be back later.”
He pulled open the front door and stepped outside, closing the door after him.
Turning back around, she finished the dishes, trying not to think how this was the last time she would see him. Drying her hands on a towel, she glanced around and spotted the unmade bed. She tackled that next, making certain it was military neat. She would leave no mess behind. She tidied the couch cushions next, folding the throw and draping it over the back.
Satisfied, she fetched her bag from the floor near the couch. Her shoes waited at the door where she left them the night before. Had that only been a night ago? Not even twenty-four hours had passed. How was that possible? She didn’t even feel like the same person.
She slid on her shoes and bent to lace them up, feeling a little sick. Standing, she secured both straps of her backpack over her shoulders and looked around one final time, blinking burning eyes as she imprinted the house in her memory.
She stepped outside. It was still chilly, the sun hidden behind the clouds. She looked around the yard. No sight of Niall anywhere—a fact that both relieved and saddened her. She really would never see him again. She could hear the sheep bleating somewhere in the distance. Maybe he was checking to see how they fared through the night.
Gripping the straps of her backpack, she headed off down the road, admiring the rippling green hills. As much as it hurt to think she was never going to see Niall again, she knew she was doing the right thing.
She walked for almost half an hour. It was uphill, downhill, and then uphill again. Her breathing picked up as she followed the winding road. There had to be a way on foot to get across the road. Just because a car couldn’t cross it didn’t mean someone on foot couldn’t. She’d find a way.
The sound of burbling water reached her ears and she knew she was nearing the stream. She rounded a bend, fully expecting to see the road overrun with water.
But all she saw was a road.
A fully passable road.
She froze as this sank into her brain. A thin layer of water covered the road, no more than an inch high. A car would have no trouble crossing through it.
The road was passable.
She blinked a few times as though her eyes were deceiving her. The blood rushed to her head, roaring in her ears.
He’d lied. Why had he lied to her?
The sound of a car approaching had her whirling back around. Niall’s Jeep rounded the bend and braked hard. He flung open the driver’s side and hopped out, an anxious look on his usually passive face.
He started toward her and she held out a hand as though to ward him off. “Stop.”
He obliged, his gaze darting over her face. “Thea,” he began.
“You lied to me,” she accused, pointing a damning finger to the road.
His expression turned pained.
“I asked you and you said the road wasn’t clear!”
He nodded. “Aye, I lied.”
She shook her head. “I can see that! I don’t understand—”
“I dinna want you to go,” he flung out. “Damn it, I want you to stay longer so I lied.”
She stared at him in stunned silence. At this surly, too hot man with a panicked expression on his face that was all because of her. Because … she was leaving.
She glanced back at the road with the barely there current of water trickling over its surface as though needing to see it one more time—the evidence of his deceit.
She faced him again, her heart tumbling headlong at the sight of him, at the incredible words he was saying to her in that delicious brogue of his. They echoed in her head. I dinna want you to go. Damn it, I want you to stay longer…
“Why didn’t you just say that?” she whispered.
He dragged a hand through his hair. “I don’t know. Because I’m an idiot who couldn’t find his voice around you. Who felt like a tongue-tied lad because he wants you so damn much. Because I was scared that you would think I was deranged and run screaming for the road. I haven’t even known you a full day, but I want you to stay.” He flung out both arms. “I want you here. I’m sorry I couldn’t say it before.” He looked at her bleakly, emotion ripe in his eyes. “Don’t go.”
Elation swelled inside her chest. She shook her head and tamped down on her joy, fighting for her composure. She didn’t want to look like a giddy child on Christmas morning, even if that was how she felt. “I don’t think you’re deranged.”
“No?” He advanced on her slowly, his expression hopeful. “I’m not a rash or reckless man, but you’ve done something to me. Changed me.” He held out both hands, gesturing around them. “I think yer a faerie and those glens are magical. I don’t know how else to explain it. How else could I have fallen in love with you the moment I found you in my house, wearing my clothes, eating my dinner? You made me feel again. You made me believe. How can I no’ believe those glens are magical anymore? They brought you to me.” His hand reached out to caress her hair. “What’s it going to be, Goldilocks?”
Her eyes burned, swimming with tears, and this time the tears were not from pain or disappointment. She fought against a tide of joy, trying to not to get swept away in it. She needed to be reasonable now.
He couldn’t love her. It was impossible. Too soon. This didn’t happen to people.
This didn’t happen to her.
He took another step, stopping just in front of her. “Stay.” He inhaled. “Please. Stay forever.”
She opened her mouth and just then she heard another engine. They both looked up as a small car came into view, cresting the hill and zipping down toward them. It crossed over the stream and pulled to a hard brake beside them.
The driver rolled down the window. A man with a grizzled beard stuck his head out the window. “Hello, there. I’m looking for an American.” He eyed Thea speculatively. The pocket of his T-shirt bore the logo for the tour company she’d hired. “A tour bus left her behind, and I’ve been sent to find her. You haven’t seen her, have you?”
She lifted her gaze and locked eyes with Niall. He watched her, his blue eyes intent, hungry. Hungry for her. But he volunteered nothing. He waited for her to say something. Waited for her to reach a decision.
She looked back down at the driver, her heart pounding hard in her chest as she reached her decision. The only choice she could make.
“You can go back,” she told him, and no words had ever felt so natural, so right coming out of her mouth. “She’s not lost. She’s right where she wants to be.”