Chapter Twenty-Six
She hadn’t expected it to be the same as when they’d begun, all those years ago. How could it be, after all this time?
And she had convinced herself the jolt she’d gotten out there on Main Street had been…something else. Told herself it was only that she hadn’t kissed a man in a while.
But this wasn’t even the same as that kiss out in public.
It was much, much more.
They had been kids, before. Experimenting, learning, having chosen the only person either of them could envision as a partner in this new, heated exploration. And teenage love with hormones running high had been hot, fast, and beyond memorable.
But they were adults now, so what was the explanation for the instant inferno they seemed to kindle together?
…we were meant to be.
Aunt Millie’s words, spoken in that voice of his, beautiful even when he wasn’t singing, echoed in her head. Like the refrain of a Scorpions song, it repeated. Meant to be, meant to be, meant to be…
And then she couldn’t hear anything, not even her own thoughts as his tongue swept over her lips and she parted them for him. All she knew was how right it felt. This was Jamie, her Jamie, and here in this place, where they had discovered what pleasure could be had, they were together again.
It was as if they had never been apart, and yet it was different. Powerful in a different sort of way. She had the odd thought it was at least in part because this wasn’t inevitable, as it had seemed back then. This was by conscious, adult choice, and that somehow made a difference.
She couldn’t get enough of the taste of him, the feel of him. And only now did she realize they were on the floor of the tree house, bodies pressed together as if no time at all had passed, as if they were still those teenagers so wild they couldn’t wait. In that moment that’s what she felt like, that if she didn’t have him, all of him, in the next minute she would die. Her body was already primed, ready, and she could feel he was, too.
He broke the kiss. Pulled back. She smothered a moan of protest. She knew it wasn’t because he hadn’t been into it because she could hear the harshness of his rapid breathing echoing her own, could feel the rigidness of his erection pressed against her.
“Zee,” he whispered.
“You stopped,” she pointed out unnecessarily.
“I…had to.”
“Why?” She sounded plaintive even to her own ears.
He shifted his hands, which had slid down to her waist at some point, to his favorite spot just above the swell of her hips. He let them linger for a moment, then reluctantly pulled away. Then he cupped her face, turned her so that she was looking straight at him.
“Because I have to know if you want to go where we’re headed if we don’t stop.”
She was slow to react, so lost was she in those green eyes. Why had she never realized that was exactly why she’d bought her car?
“Don’t you?” she asked, feeling a bit sluggish.
“More than I have words for,” he said, sounding fervent.
Her brows furrowed as she tried to bank the heat he’d roused in her and think. “Then what?”
“I’ve only been back two weeks. I’m not that guy you were afraid I’d become, but…what if I really have changed?”
His words seemed to have something more behind their surface, but she couldn’t put a name to it. “Your heart hasn’t changed. I know that now.”
“I want this. I want you, us. God, I want it. But even more than that, I don’t want us to be…like we were. Like we’ve been since I left. I don’t want you mad at me again, Zee.”
“I meant what I said. I wasn’t being fair and I’m sorry.”
“I know. And I know you mean it. It’s who you are. But…”
She was sitting upright now, studying him. “What is it? Are you mad at me, now? Not that I could blame you, I was kind of a—”
“You were you. You’d never have gotten mad at all if you hadn’t cared.”
“Loved.”
He blinked.
“That’s the word we’re avoiding. I loved you. You loved me.”
“Yes.” His voice had gone low, rough. And she had the sudden wild thought that it might be because of the tense she’d used. Past. As in not now.
And she wasn’t altogether certain it applied. Which rattled her enough to say the obvious, so she wouldn’t say the words that had leapt to her lips. “Aren’t you…haven’t you wondered if…”
She saw him draw in a deep breath. And he seemed steadier when he spoke again. “It’s still the same? Of course I have. Is that what this is for you? Curiosity?”
“In part,” she admitted honestly. “But it’s never been that simple with us.”
“No. It hasn’t.” He tilted his head and gave her a lopsided smile. “Besides, I think we just proved it’s not the same.”
“We did?”
“Darlin’,” he drawled, “that kiss wasn’t our old fuel on the fire. It was pure dynamite.”
A slow smile curved her mouth. “Yes. Yes, it was.”
“But it’s…impossible right now, anyway.”
“Impossible?”
His mouth quirked wryly. “Unless you’ve got a box of condoms in your pocket.”
“Oh.” She glanced toward the house.
“Nope,” he said. “Not there, either.” He reached out, touched her chin with a finger and turned her face back to his. “Haven’t needed them in a long time,” he said softly.
She knew what he was saying. Believed it. Because Jamie had never lied to her. The only lying that had happened between them was her to herself.
“Besides,” he added, “no bed.”
“Not that we ever needed one, but you might need to fix that,” she answered, reaching up to press his hand against her face.
For a moment something shadowed his eyes. “Don’t want me in yours?”
Swiftly she moved both her hands to cup his face, so he couldn’t turn away. “What I don’t want,” she said, “is all of Whiskey River having a gossip fest about us.”
She saw him process it, that her place was just a couple of blocks from the town square, and people came to do business in the Mahan Services office if nothing else. Then he smiled ruefully. “And they would, wouldn’t they?”
“Childhood sweethearts reunited? You bet they will.”
“Are we, Zee? Reunited?”
“Rekindled, at least,” she said.
He let out an exaggerated, dramatic sigh. “Then I guess I’d better get moving on that bed.”
“And condoms,” she suggested, with equal drama.
And suddenly he was laughing, and for that moment he was the old Jamie, her Jamie. “Wonder if there’s a place that has both?”
She grinned. “If there’s not, there should be. Imagine the sales.”
“Imagine if it was here in town,” he said dryly.
She widened her eyes. “Martha would strain her voice.”
And then they were both laughing, and for that brief moment, the youthful joy in each other was as free and pure as it had ever been.