Straight From The Heart (10 page)

“Stephen?” she called, peering around the doorjamb. “My God! What happened to you?”

He was covered with mud from head to foot.

“I made it down to the river, but the water’s still over the bridge. We’re stuck on this side until probably tomorrow afternoon. I see power’s restored on the mountain though,” he observed.

“But why are you so muddy?”

“I tried to help a guy get his pickup out of the floodwaters. No chance. It’s just a matter of waiting.” He shot her a look. “But it won’t be much longer. Just one more night,” he added as he headed toward the bathroom.

“Stephen, wait!” Kim called, but he turned on the taps to the shower. She wasn’t certain whether he heard her or not, but it hardly mattered. He wasn’t going anywhere, at least for one more night.

Suddenly, she was gripped by anxiety.
Only one more night.
Though she’d made lots of noise about wanting to get away from him, those feelings had quickly changed. Now the idea of separating tomorrow and going back to their own lives filled her with dread.

Kim uncorked the wine, lit the candles which still tilted drunkenly in their glasses, set the arrangement of fruit at two places, poured marinara sauce over bowls of pasta, then tipped an Oregon pinot noir into a pair of surprisingly pretty wine goblets. She was waiting at the table when Stephen stepped out of the bathroom, once again wearing a pair of jeans and no shirt.

He stopped short at the sight of her. Kim had changed earlier but had covered up her sundress with a terrycloth apron while she cooked, so he hadn’t seen the transformation. Now the way he looked at her made her blush.

“You look beautiful,” he said after a moment, realizing he was staring.

“Thank you.” The dress was a white, sleeveless cotton shift that showed off the soft tan she’d achieved before this sudden deluge had hit the Portland area and turned it into water world.

She waited while he put on a shirt, white also, with the long sleeves rolled up. His forearms were sprinkled with masculine hair, several shades lighter than his own dark brown locks. His skin glowed like burnished copper in the candlelight.

“As grateful as I was for power, I chose the candles instead,” she stammered, feeling a little foolish at her romanticism.

“This looks great,” he said, inclining his head toward the meal.

“I’m not a half-bad cook with a few modern conveniences,” Kim said lightly.

“You’re not half-bad anyway,” he returned. Then, as if embarrassed, he said, “I checked the phone.”

“It’s still not working, I know.”

“I plugged in my cell phone battery charger. It won’t be long before we can get through.”

“Great!”

Now why did that feel so forced?
Kim asked herself miserably as she toyed with her pasta and nibbled at the fruit. Even the red wine, wonderful as it was, wasn’t doing anything for her. Stephen, too, seemed self-absorbed and lost in his own thoughts.

“Think we can date when we get back to the real world?”

Kim stared at Stephen, wondering if she’d actually heard the words or had been hoping to hear them so badly that she’d imagined them. “What?” she asked.

“I’ll take that as a no,” he remarked, his mouth twisting.

“No! I mean, yes! That’s what I want.”

He grinned at her. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, lady, let me tell you something. You’re really hard to read sometimes. Maybe I come on too strong, but it just seemed right.”

“It did seem right, but it was scary. I just need time.”

“Take all the time you need. All I want is a chance.”

Kim was positively glowing with joy. One moment everything seemed wrong, then
poof!
She was granted her every wish. “Are you serious?”

“Like a heart attack, serious,” he stated strongly. “And I already know we’re not going to sleep together tonight, so don’t worry, I won’t ask.”

Kim hid a smile behind her wineglass. “You can’t ask, slave,” she told him. “Only the master can ask.”

“The master has made it quite clear how she feels.”

“The master just needs to sort through some feelings and figure out where this is going.” Swallowing a sip, she decided to lay her cards on the table. “The master has to make sure the slave is hoping for some kind of long-term relationship, because that’s the only way it works for the master.”

“The slave doesn’t jump from master to master like some people seem to think he does. The slave would like to hope for something more, too.”

“Then anything’s possible, slave,” Kim said boldly, meeting his gaze.

“Don’t tempt me, woman,” he growled.

“Master,” she corrected.

“Yeah, well, we’ll see,” he said with pure masculine ego, and they both broke into laughter.

An hour later they’d finished
washing the dishes and put them away when Stephen called Betsy’s number, feeling relaxed and at ease in a way he hadn’t been in what? Years? Kimberly Harden was a pure heaven. He could easily fall in love with her. He was halfway there already.

“Hey, who’s this?” he asked, when he’d connected. “Chad?”

Kim reached around him for the phone. He twisted to keep her out of reach, and she wrapped her arms around his waist and tickled.

“Get your mom, Chad,” Stephen ordered, fighting back laughter. “What?” He went suddenly still. Sensing a crisis, Kim turned around to gaze into his eyes. His suddenly grim expression scared her. “When did they go?” Stephen demanded.

“Who?” Kim mouthed. “Where?”

“The emergency room?”

That did it. On a cry she yanked the phone from his hand. Stephen let her, numb to the core.

“What happened?” Kim demanded. “Chad, where’s your mother? Who went to the emergency room? Where’s Bobby?”

“Jason and Bobby were in an accident,” Chad blubbered. “Mom and Dad are at the hospital. Nobody could reach you guys. Matt’s with ’em, too,” he added, referring to his older brother.

“What kind of accident?” Kim asked faintly.

“Car accident. They were just going down the driveway. Jason was taking them out for a Coke. Mom said it was okay, since Jason’s got his license now. A car just smashed ’em, but Matt’s okay.”

“What about Bobby? And Jason?” Her knees were quaking. Dimly, Kim realized Stephen was holding her up.

“They’re at the hospital. I don’t know.”

Stephen pulled the phone from Kim’s unresisting fingers. Still holding her close, he asked Chad for further details. Finally, he hung up the phone and led Kim to the love seat where they both collapsed against each other.

“Betsy will call as soon as she knows something,” Stephen said woodenly.

Kim couldn’t think. She was consumed with fear. If she lost Bobby
 . . .
“What was he doing in the car with Jason?” she asked, her voice trembling. “He shouldn’t have been there.”

Stephen didn’t respond.

Inside Kim an unfair voice told her that she should have stuck with her first instincts. She should never have gotten involved with Stephen at any level. It was bad karma. Some misalignment of the stars. Somehow, being connected to this man was a threat to her and Bobby.

“I wish we’d never gotten this far,” she cried half-hysterically. “Bobby and I were fine without you in our lives!”

Stephen turned his head as if her words physically struck him. Tears welled in Kim’s eyes. How stupid she was! But she couldn’t shake the feeling. It was a pall, and it wrapped around her and fed her most basic fears.

Romance, which had been thick in the air a few moments earlier, vanished completely. She couldn’t think of anything to say to Stephen, and clearly, he felt the same way. They drew apart from each other and took turns pacing and waiting. In a dull fog Kim walked to the kitchen and made a pot of coffee that neither of them felt like drinking.

Near midnight Stephen’s cell phone purred. He snatched it up and listened intently. As hot as it was, Kim shivered uncontrollably, and after a few terse words that told her nothing, he handed the phone to her.

“Hello?” Kim said shakily.

“Hey, Kimmy.” Betsy’s tired voice brought a new surge of pent up emotion. Kim closed her eyes, fighting new tears and a sense of complete fright. She felt like she was about to self-destruct. “Everything’s going to be okay,” Betsy assured her. “Bobby bumped his head against the dash, but he was seat-belted in. He’s bruised from where the seatbelt yanked against him.”

“Is he—all right, then?” she choked.

“Perfectly fine. He’s home with us tonight and waiting to talk to you. Here
 . . .
”

“Mom
 . . .
?”

The sound of her son’s voice closed Kim’s throat. She could scarcely answer. “Hey, you,” she whispered.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“What? It’s okay.
You’re
okay, and that’s what matters.”

“Yeah, but Jason’s still in the hospital.”

Kim’s heart jerked hard. “He is?” Guilt raged through her. She hadn’t even
asked
about Jason, she’d been so immersed in her own worry and pain.

“His arm broke, and the bone was all mangled.” Bobby sounded sick. “They had to operate.”

She shot Stephen a look. He was staring into the charred remains of the fire, his expression stern. His fingers gripped the coffee cup as if it were a lifeline.

“How is Jason?” she asked Bobby.

“Okay, I guess. When are you going to be back?”

“Tomorrow. As soon as the roads are clear.”

“You’re not mad?”

“Mad?”

“Because I was in the car with Jason? I know you don’t want me to ride with teenage drivers, but we were just going to the store to get a Coke, and this guy came around the corner going about ninety!”

“We’ll talk about it later,” she said. “You’re sure Jason’s all right?”

“Uh huh. You want to talk to Betsy?”

“Yes, please.”

There was a brief hesitation. “I love you, Mom,” he said quickly, as if afraid to be heard.

“I love you, too,” she said on a choked swallow.

“I am so sorry this happened,” Betsy apologized. “I feel like it’s all my fault. I told Jason he could go to the store, and I guess Bobby popped in the car with him.”

“It’s all right. It’s fine. Jason’s coming home tomorrow?”

“Yeah, I told Stephen. Is he okay, Kim? He sounded so monosyllabic, like he was mad or upset. I don’t know what to say to him.”

“I’ll talk to him.”

“I had to call Pauleen. She was hysterical. I think she’s at the hospital now, but I’m afraid
 . . .
” Betsy broke off. “Kimmy, she was drunk.”

Kim winced. “Oh.”

“I had to tell Stephen. Make sure he’s okay, huh? I feel terrible. Are you two doing okay?” she asked as an afterthought.

“We’re coping,” Kim admitted, smitten with guilt. Stephen needed her support, not her accusations. Catching his eyes, she held the phone his way, but he shook his head so Kim finished her good-byes and hung up.

“I’m sorry about what I said earlier,” Kim said awkwardly. “It’s not your fault, or Jason’s.”