She smiled at the recollection. Carrie Ann resolved to the snuggling. The tips of her fingers played lazily along his ribs. The temptation to touch him was excruciating. She knew what waited beneath the confines of his jeans. Heaven. She wondered how long he’d been in solitary confinement. Secretly, she’d somewhat kept up on his dating habits. It was hard not to, considering his gorgeous mug fronted so many magazines lining the grocery store checkouts.

Hard running emotions moved through him in small tremors. Her mind began to drift in the darkness, somewhere deep inside she wanted him to make a move. She wanted him to bury his hands in her hair and kiss her like there was no tomorrow.

Tomorrow was promised to no one.

She needed to come clean and she knew it.

Carrie Ann tried to tell him. Lying there in the dark, she opened her mouth half a dozen times, but the words would not come. The wind howled through the trees, mimicking the sound of crying. It sparked memories of the sound of her sobs the night they broke up. She couldn’t help but wonder what would’ve happened if she’d let him hold her that night. If she’d let him ease her pain. If she would’ve let him in.

Exhaustion took hold of the blackness, slowly releasing the tension from her body. She opened her mouth to try again, but all that came out was a soft sleepy murmur, “The wind is so strong. I can’t believe all the trees haven’t fallen over yet.”

“The strong storms that roll through this region make the trees take deeper roots,” Summer said deftly. “Kind of like you and me.”

“Umm.” She remained motionless, drifting off to sleep in the blissful comfort of his arms.

Pressing his lips against the top of her head, Summer whispered in a miserable voice, “Don’t let me go, Red.”

Chapter Ten

‡

She woke to Aspen tugging on her foot. Carrie Ann’s lashes fought against the cashmere covering her eyes.

“Aspen, no-no,” she groaned, untying the sash draped loosely around her neck.

Bright sunshine streamed through the fogged windows. Her eyes squinted, straining to focus. She raised her hand to block the sunlight from her eyes.

“It’s me, Carrie Ann.” Summer jiggled her toes again. “There’s a break in the weather. We have a short window of time before the next storm moves through. We should be able to make it out of here if we leave in less than an hour.”

She scrubbed the sleep from her eyes. He stood at the end of the couch dressed in jeans and a rock t-shirt, boots on and sunglasses perched on top of his head. Dark smudges of fatigue lay beneath his eyes.

“We’re leaving?”

“I think its best. I can’t take much more of this.” Forcing a small smile, he coasted his thumb over her toenails. “I was hoping we’d get to these.”

Hurt and longing muddied his eyes and voice.

She didn’t like it.

A cold ache spread goosebumps down her exposed leg. “Summer…”

“It’s okay, Red. You don’t have to say anything. I know you came willingly, but it’s clear you don’t want to be here. I feel horrible about last night.” He gave the arch of her foot a quick double squeeze before letting go. “I’m ready, so if you’ll throw your things together, we’ll take off.”

He didn’t bother waiting around for her response. Carrie Ann propped up on her elbows. Fine speckles of dust glimmered in the rays of light casting over the couch she lay on. Her gaze slid down her barely-there tank top and boy-short panties. A twinge of guilt tickled her gut, feeling contrite for his penis.

A hard frown soured her face, as she rose to her feet. The heaviness of years of long nights hung from her slouched shoulders, as she slogged to her room to pack.

It should’ve taken her thirty minutes to get ready to leave, but an hour and fifteen minutes had passed by the time she stepped out the front door. Her flowy white blouse tucked behind the buckle of her brown belt and frayed cut-off shorts.

For the first time since she’d arrived the majestic snow-capped mountains were on full display, rising above the fertile valley. The fresh scents of pine and rainy earth clung to the damp air.

Summer and Aspen played football in the meadow. The tall grass bright in contrast to the dark saturated ground. The sounds of birds and other small animals hard at work filled the stillness.

Closing her eyes, Carrie Ann tried to ignore the dull painful ache settling in behind her heart. Drawing in a big breath of air, she stepped off the porch and waved to Summer. He gave a final toss of the ball, jogging toward the cabin. Aspen followed on his heels. Her lanky legs stumbling as she ran.

“I can’t believe how big she’s gotten in just a few days,” she murmured. It seemed as if the pup had doubled in size.

Pulling keys from his pocket, he locked the door and started for the plane. Threatening clouds hovered in clusters high overhead, darkening the skies. Carrie Ann trailed behind them, struggling to keep her suitcase upright.

A ray of sunshine, clear and straight, pushed through the clouds, carving a distinct shadow on the ground directly in front of her feet. Carrie Ann stopped abruptly. Her sandals skid on the pavement of the landing strip nearly knocking her on her ass. Her heart pounded. A rush of sentiments sparked fire to every nerve ending she possessed. The bag slung over her shoulder dropped to the ground.

The clatter drew his attention. Summer turned back. The sound of gravel crunching beneath each footstep. “Sorry, do you need some help with these?” he asked apologetically, taking hold of her bags.

She couldn’t answer. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t move. Her knees locked tight, refusing to carry her any further.

Summer walked toward the plane.

He walked out of her reach.

He was walking right out of her life.

Carrie Ann staggered half a step backward putting some much needed distance between her and the definitive line drawn on the ground in front of her feet. If she crossed that line, if she stepped foot on that plane, it was over. Summer would forever be part of her past. There would be no shot at a future with him.

Sucking in a big breath of air, she filled her lungs before blurting loudly, “I’ve seen all of your movies.”

Carrie Ann had no idea why those were the words she chose to shout, but a stream of tears broke free, spilling down her cheeks. She suspected it was because she wanted him to know how proud she was of him.

“I know. You already confessed how much you loved my movies.”

“I didn’t really care for the last one. I mean…I liked the movie, but I didn’t like it when you kissed her. I really hated the fact that she was topless.” One shoulder lifted and her chin jutted out boldly, bracing for her own admission. “I won’t be very good about things like that.”

Summer stopped. The hard edge of the outline of his shoulders softened.

“Was that so hard to admit?”

“Yes.”

“I was thinking of you…wishing she was you the entire time.” Turning around, he started toward her. “Oh, Christ, Red, don’t cry. You’re killing me. You’ve cried more in the last few days than you did in the two years we dated.”

Summer stopped in front of her, hands hung stiffly at his sides, not knowing what to do. Carrie Ann recognized that rigid stance of self-preservation. She’d worn it well for years. He’d already given her every chance to say yes to him and she’d shut him out. Now he was doing the same.

Swiping the wetness from her chin with the back of her hand, she motioned toward the plane. “I don’t really want to go.”

He glared at her behind his aviator sunglasses. “Don’t stand there and insult me Carrie Ann. I’m a damn good pilot.”

“I’m not afraid to fly. You owe me a date.” She wanted to go to him, but her feet dug in refusing to budge beyond the line drawn on the ground.