“Maybe some food will get the juices flowing again.”
As soon as those words came out of her mouth, she knew she should have watched what she said more carefully. His eyes went deeper green with a simmering intensity she’d seen there before.
Yet he didn’t comment, just eyed the platter appreciatively. “Your aunt knows the way to a man’s heart. Her kindness is limitless.” He paused, thought about what he was going to say, and then obviously decided to say it. “I see that same kindness in you.”
For the second time in one day, she felt heat come to her cheeks. She never blushed. “Thank you. Go ahead and eat before it gets cold.” She would have risen to her feet, but he held her arm and she stayed where she was.
“Thank you.”
“I haven’t done anything yet.”
“You’re helping to make this transition easier. I called Dad when I came up here.”
“And?” she prompted.
“And … Luke is giving him all the reasons why he should stay with him instead of moving up here with me.”
“Oh, Dawson, that has to be so hard to hear.”
“I wouldn’t know. Luke won’t talk to me. What happens if he gets here and barricades himself in his room like he does at home?”
“I really don’t think that will happen. At least, not all of the time. We’ll have surprise on our side.”
“Surprise?”
She counted on children’s curiosity a lot of the time whether it was to try something new or just to coax them to talk. “He doesn’t know Anna and he doesn’t know me. Even the weather’s different here. Who can resist looking up to Moonshadow Mountain and Feather Peak? There will be plenty of things to interest him, and lots of people who can get through to him. His natural curiosity will help, too. I know things seem bad right now, but try to stay optimistic. Try to see all the things that will connect you to Luke rather than tear him away.”
Dawson was looking at her differently than he ever had before. She’d caught a glimpse of desire the night of the prom and the night of the reunion. But now, there was something behind that desire. Emotion? Feeling for her and a past they’d shared? That’s what caught her in its trap. That’s what took her by surprise. That’s what helped good sense flee and made “the moment” become all-important. As an adult the moment had never been all-important for her. She always analyzed the consequences. But Dawson kickstarted a passion she didn’t even know she possessed, without even a touch or a word or a kiss.
Suddenly he was murmuring, “Mikala, you’ve always been special to me. I always wondered what might have happened if I hadn’t left Miners Bluff.”
“What do you think would have happened?” she whispered, knowing this moment was important, not wanting to shatter it.
His hand went to the nape of her neck. “I think we would have dated. We might have gotten close.” He tipped her lips up to his. “And maybe …”
As Dawson’s mouth took possession of hers, she wrapped her arms around his neck and fell into the scent and feel of him. The kiss started slowly, like a wonderful melody that kept on playing. Then it changed verses as it increased in intensity, meandering into the refrain and began all over again. She’d always wondered what kissing Dawson would feel like. It was a symphony she never wanted to stop, a haunting ballad that reached down into her heart, making her feel emotions she’d never let surface.
Sudden need rose in her, sending fire into every part of her body. She didn’t even know the woman who was responding to the touch of his tongue … to the angle of his lips … to the deepening of their passion that left her totally without breath. She ran her hand through his thick, tawny hair. As his hands stroked up and down her back, she trembled.
Suddenly everything stopped—the new melody, the riot of sensations, the rippling adventure of wanting and being wanted in return.
He pulled away with a ragged oath and started shaking his head. “I never expected—” He stopped.
She didn’t give him a chance to say more. Somehow she managed to pull herself together, put distance between them and pretend she was perfectly all right.
“Enjoy your dinner,” she murmured as she fled to the door.
He called out to her, but she ignored him as she ran down the stairs, putting the moment behind her once and for all.
She hoped.
Chapter Three
Almost two weeks later Mikala watched Dawson and Luke carry their belongings into the Purple Pansy. Luke looked like his dad—same color hair and eyes, same jaw that would become more defined like Dawson’s as he got older.
She could already sense the tension between father and son. It was obvious that communication was almost null and void between them.
Since Dawson had left, she’d tried to forget about the kiss, and their awkward goodbye the next morning. Now, as she watched Luke and Dawson interact—or rather not interact—she knew she had her work cut out for her on all fronts, both personal as well as professional.
Aunt Anna stood at the counter, adding peas to the slow cooker as Dawson and Luke entered the kitchen once more, ready to return to the SUV for another load. She introduced herself to Luke and asked, “What do you think of vegetable soup for supper?”
His gaze glanced from hers to Mikala’s to his dad’s. Finally he shrugged.
But Anna was having none of that. “You’ve got to tell me what you like and don’t like. If you don’t like vegetable soup, say so.”
The ten-year-old pushed his blond-brown hair from his forehead, then shrugged again. “It’s okay, I guess. I like burgers better.”
“Of course you do,” Anna agreed with a smile. “But burgers every night aren’t healthy. I’ll make you one, though, if you promise to have some soup, too.”
Dawson interrupted. “You don’t have to make anything special. You don’t have to make anything at all. We can go out to eat.”
“Nonsense!” Anna swished her hand dismissively. Then she took the cookie jar from the counter and opened the lid, holding it out to Luke. “Homemade biscotti. There’s chocolate milk in the refrigerator if you’re interested.”
Mikala went over to a cupboard, opened it and removed a glass. “Just so you know, the glasses are in this cupboard. While you’re here, you’re welcome to make yourself at home.”
He took the glass Mikala offered, said “Thanks” and went to the refrigerator. He easily found the chocolate milk and poured himself some.
Dawson hovered, and to get him to stop, Mikala suggested, “I’ll help you bring in the rest of your things.”
“I can get it,” he began, but then caught her glance and understood. “Right.”
They were no sooner out the door when he blew out a breath. “I knew this wasn’t going to be easy, but still … he wouldn’t talk to me the whole drive here.”
“Each day isn’t going to be the end of something, Dawson. Like you said, hopefully moving here will be the beginning. Try to remember that.”
He stopped. “Are you preaching the value of optimism? Because I’ve tried to be optimistic over the past year. It hasn’t worked out very well.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it that way.”
His defensiveness dissipated. “Sorry. Being cooped up in a car for three hours with a sulking ten-year-old