Hildy stepped out onto the balcony and scanned the patio, surveying her queendom. Strings of lights covered with white paper lanterns reflected in the lagoon-style pool beneath them, its surface as still as glass. The partygoers had dwindled from a hundred and fifty to about twenty-five, Hildy proclaimed. Shane crossed through the crowd, his gray shirt and dark slacks showcasing the strong line of his body.
“He’s quite handsome.” Hildy elbowed her.
“Yes. Painfully so.”
“Where are the two of you staying this evening?”
Not together, that was for sure. Shane had scheduled separate return flights. One to take him to the cabin, and one taking her straight back to Ohio. Fine by her. Crickitt couldn’t bear the idea of spending another lonesome, tense night one room away. Last night had been agonizing. She’d lain awake in the guest room and listened to the television in the living room. The last time she was there with him, they’d barely been able to tear themselves from one another to watch television. Or eat. Or sleep.
“We’re flying back tonight.” Crickitt told herself she was glad, but her voice betrayed her. She sounded beaten. She felt it, too.
“Poppycock!” Hildy said, not picking up on her tone. “You’ll stay here. We have too many bedrooms to count. You’ve brought your things, I presume.”
“I couldn’t impose.” So not the real reason.
“But you have your luggage,” Hildy reminded her.
“Yes.”
Hildy shrugged, her mind made up. “You’re staying.”
Chapter 36
Crickitt found Shane in front of a metal fire bowl staring into the flames, a bottle of water hanging loosely between his fingers. She settled onto the chaise longue next to his. “We’re spending the night,” she said.
“Yeah, I heard.” He tilted his head toward Henry on the opposite side of the expansive courtyard.
“I didn’t know how to say no to Hildy.” And she couldn’t think of a plausible excuse other than the truth.
“She’s persuasive, I hear.”
She studied Shane’s profile. The firelight touched the curve of his bottom lip, the arch of his brows, highlighted the gold in his eyes. She hadn’t stood a chance with a man like him. He was the fire, volatile, unpredictable. She was more like the wood, willingly being ravaged to her ultimate demise.
And she’d fallen in love with him. Loved him so much, the unspoken words burned her throat. She refused to say them. She could imagine the look of apology, his refusal to accept it. If that happened, she’d fall apart. And crumbling under the weight of this man’s unreturned affections was not an option.
All you have to do is get through this weekend.
Once they returned to work on Monday, Crickitt would bury herself in her to-do list and not come up for air until she was over Shane.
Which sucked, but what choice had he left her?
Despite her hectic thoughts, Crickitt muffled a yawn. She leaned forward to check Shane’s watch and he bent his wrist to accommodate her. His aftershave tormented her, reminding her of kisses and caresses it would take her a lifetime to forget.
“You didn’t have to do everything you did this week, you know,” he told her.
“Just doing my job.”
“Saving my ass again.” He faced her, so close. Too close. “Like you did with Townsend.” He rested his chin on his left shoulder and watched her. She traced the line of his jaw, the shape of his mouth with her eyes, then watched, stone still as he glanced down at her mouth.
Not so long ago, he would have sent her a flirty smile, dared her to kiss him. And she would have accepted his challenge, regardless of the attention it drew from the Townsends’ party guests. But she felt as if she were imprisoned behind an invisible glass wall.
Look, but don’t touch.
He sucked in a breath, and she held hers as she waited for him to speak.
When he did, he turned his head and addressed the flames. “I should’ve told you I was leaving.”
“Why did you leave?”
He shrugged.
She thought of everything Lori told her. Crickitt wanted to say she was sorry about his mother. That it wasn’t his fault, that his father had been cruel and unfair. That Shane had been admirable and strong in an impossible situation. That she’d be here for him, always, whenever he needed her.
His elbows resting on his knees, he crunched the empty water bottle in his hands.
But he didn’t need her. She blinked, taking in his demeanor. He was as cool and calm as the pool behind them.