She changed her clothes and looked outside. The sun was peeking above the trees. If she hurried, she could make it to the tree house in time. Throwing the blanket around her, she stepped outside and breathed in the crisp, morning air. She crossed the back yard and headed for the woods. Her ankle was still tender, so she moved gingerly over branches littering the woods from last night’s storm. Shay remembered Old Elmer’s warning, but it was daylight. What danger could there be? All the predators would be asleep.
She climbed the small hill, heading for the pink blotch showing through the red and gold leaves. The color had faded with time, but Shay still smiled, remembering her victory. It took them weeks to build the tree house. They threw darts to see who chose the color. She won… that time, her victory recorded for posterity in Nina’s photo albums, Shay smiling triumphantly while the boys looked like martyrs being burnt alive.
Shay tested the ladder. The boards were still strong. Her ankle ached, but she wasn’t going to stop. She climbed inside, gently stretched out her leg, and felt an irrational sense of joy watching the pink ribbon in the sky turn to gold as it slid over the trees.
She was home. She was safe.
“What the hell are you doing?”
She peered over the edge. Cody stood with his hands folded across his bare chest, jeans low on his hips, glaring at her.
“Watching the sunrise.”
“Are you crazy? You sprained your ankle. Not to mention there could be poachers around.”
“No, I’m not crazy. My ankle’s okay.” Or it had been, before she walked up the hill.
“Then why are you holding it?”
“Go away or shut up. You’re ruining my sunrise.” She settled back in her blanket. The leaves around her shook, and Cody’s head appeared. He climbed inside and plopped down beside her. He had chill bumps on his arms. “Here,” she said, opening the blanket. After all, he’d given her his T-shirt.
He moved closer, pulling it around his shoulders. The feel of his bare arm against hers was more intimate than some full-body encounters she’d had. The beauty of the sunrise distracted her from the warmth melting into her skin. Shay sighed and leaned back. How had his arm gotten around her? Her head found the curve of his shoulder. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”
“Aye.”
She felt his breath on her face and turned to look at him. He was staring at her like he had at the lake. She tried to look away, but she couldn’t. His eyes spoke of things she only imagined in her dreams. He turned, facing her, and a hand crept up her arm, slowly winding in her hair. He tilted her head and lowered his, letting his mouth hover over hers, taking in her breath as she took in his. Every cell inside her vibrated with longing. She could feel him, smell him, almost taste him. He licked his lips, put both hands in her hair, and brought their mouths together.
Little shocks zinged through her body like a pinball machine. Her mouth opened, welcoming his tongue. Her hands gripped his shoulders, fingers digging into his skin. The kiss grew desperate, harder, faster, bodies pressing, and then she was lying with him on top of her, bodies aligned, hips nudging. She was distantly aware of her ankle creeping up his leg, when she bumped it on his thigh. She gasped, and Cody jerked his head back. He stared at her, gave a disgusted grunt, and rose. “I’m sorry.” He helped her sit up and blew out a breath. “Are you okay to walk back?”
“Yes,” she lied, pulling the blanket around her.
Jaw tight, he started down the ladder, and then stopped. His eyes burned into hers. “No. I’m not.”
“Not what?”
“Sorry.”
She caught one glimpse of his broad shoulders before he vanished like a ghost.
***
What the hell was wrong with him? Cody yanked off his belt as he walked into the house. He stripped off the rest of his clothes, dropping them as he went. He cranked the shower on cold and stepped inside. Even the freezing water didn’t stop the burn. He ran his hands through his hair. If he didn’t slow down, he would scare her off. What then? He’d waited nine years for this. Would he blow it now because his body longed for what he knew was his? He let his hand slide down his stomach, closed his eyes, and imagined Shay as he tried to ease the ache so he wouldn’t destroy his last chance.
***
Shay waited until Cody was out of sight before she left the tree house. For one thing, she didn’t want him to see how much her ankle hurt; for another, she needed another plan. This one wasn’t working. How could she even consider, or reconsider, marrying Jamie, when all she could think about was Cody? Instead of heading back to the house, Shay detoured off on another trail. The bushes were thicker, taking over in the absence of a human presence. The tiny cemetery was surrounded by a split-rail fence the boys built. All their pets were buried here, dogs, hamsters, and birds. There weren’t many weeds. The area was covered in pine needles and moss. She stepped inside and brushed her hand over a stone with the name Neo and a date scratched into the surface. The boys had held a funeral for the black lab. Afterwards, Shay had run away to the boathouse. Cody was the one who found her and held her while she sobbed.
How could she have walked away from this place, the people and the memories it held? With a sense of sadness, she went back to the house. A cat sat on the back porch watching her. It was huge, its fur white as snow, with eyes green as an emerald.
“Where did you come from?” It didn’t look like a stray. It was big enough to attack a grown man. “Go home, cat. I can’t even sort out my own life.” As if it understood her, the cat darted off the porch and into the woods.
Shay went inside and climbed back into bed, jeans and all. She dreamed of French toast. When she woke, Cody was stepping into the room carrying a tray.
“You made French toast,” she said, staring at the plate. “I thought I was dreaming.”
“Figured you were hungry after climbing that hill. Brunch might be a better welcome than…” his eyes flashed once, hard and dark, “than the one at the tree house.” He set the tray on the bed. “I’m sorry for… for whatever that was.”
Shay let him flounder for a minute, wondering if he hadn’t realized she’d had her tongue in his mouth too, but men let their chivalry run amok sometimes. “I guess we can chalk it up to old memories.”
He looked relieved. “I know you like French toast.” His brow flattened. “Do you still?”
“I love it,” she said, accepting the tray. “I didn’t think there was any bread in the kitchen.”
“I made it at the house.”
“I’m surprised you got past Lachlan.”
“He’s gone. He and Marcas had to get back to their assignments… uh, work.” Cody looked at the bed, but moved to the sofa. He leaned back, tapping his fingers on his thighs.
“Did you eat?”
“No. I wasn’t hungry.” He was watching the plate closely now.
“Changed your mind?”
His eyes lit. “If you feel like sharing.”
They used to share everything. Cody had thought nothing of snatching something from her plate, and vice versa, unless it was a brownie. Brownies were sacred. “I might be persuaded,” she said.
There was the flash in his eyes again, reminding her that they were a long way from kids. “I suppose I should share, since you made it.” She took a bite and moaned. “Maple syrup. Nina used to make French toast for me every Sunday morning.”
Cody gently moved her ankle aside so he could sit. “Not bad, eh?”
“You did good.” The breakfast tasted almost as good as Cody looked. What was wrong with her?