Page 35 of More Than Words
I removed my hand, tightening the sweater that had slipped open.
“I’m not even mad,” he said.“I just—” He stopped.“I don’t know what I’m feeling.”
That made two of us.Not that I was ready to volunteer that piece of information.
We stood there, the silence between us growing into something more.
“You’re a great dad, Ethan,” I said after a moment.“Quinn is an awesome kid.That’s because of you.”
He looked at me, really looked at me.My heart thudded in my chest.
“Delaney.”
I swallowed hard.
He stepped closer.Just enough for the air to shift between us.
His gaze dropped to my mouth for just the briefest moment before snapping back to my eyes.“This isn’t why I came here.”
“Why did you come?”
“I don’t know,” he said, his voice low and raw.“To say thank you.To be annoyed.To ask you why you wouldn’t tell me about it.”He ran a hand over his face and tried again.“I came to see you.”
My heart raced.It was hard to breathe.
I don’t remember who moved first.Maybe we both did.
But the second his mouth was on mine, every single thing dropped away.
He kissed me like he’d been holding himself back for weeks.One hand settled on my hip, the other skimming the curve of my jaw before cupping my cheek.His touch was careful and desperate, as if he wasn’t sure how long it would last.
And I kissed him back, like nothing else mattered.Not the tentative truce we’d declared.Not the new friendship we’d been building.Not the fact that neither of us could afford messy or complicated.
By the time we pulled apart, I was breathless and more than a little stunned at what had just happened.
Then he stepped back.He lifted one hand, touched his index finger to his lower lip and smiled softly.“Yeah,” he murmured.“I didn’t come here to do that either.”
And then, before I could find my voice, he gave me one last look, turned and disappeared into the night, leaving me staring after him.
ChapterTen
Ethan
The wind had picked up by mid-afternoon, and with it came that sharp bite in the air that meant snow wasn’t far behind.And not just a few flurries, but real snow.The kind that meant winter was really and truly here.
We were only barely into November, but Mother Nature didn’t seem to care about trivial details like the date on the calendar.Life in a mountain town was unpredictable, especially when it came to the weather.
Not that I minded too much.I’d grown up spending all my free time on the ski hill, and I couldn’t wait to get Quinn out there, too.On our few visits to my brothers, she’d tried it and liked it.But it was different when you lived right down the street from the ski hill.
With any luck, we’d be spending most weekends on the hill.Maybe it could be a new way for us to reconnect.Quinn had been pulling away lately, and I couldn’t help but let it worry me.No matter what my brothers told me about how it wasnormalfor a twelve-year-old girl to want to spend more time with her friends than her dad.It still felt…strange.Like the end of something.
Still, I was glad she was starting to make good friends in Trickle Creek.I’d been so worried about the move, but she was doing great.Coming back to town had been a good decision for so many reasons.
I pulled my gaze from the building storm outside and went back to wiping down the bar, not that I expected any customers.It was the midweek lull in shoulder season.Most of the locals had already hunkered down for what was supposed to be the first big storm of the season, and there weren’t many tourists to speak of at this time of year, with the golf course closed and the ski hill not quite ready to open.
Quinn had left a few hours ago with Reid for their weekly ice cream date, opting instead for hot chocolate in the cozy lounge of the Tamarack Inn.Too cold for cones, they’d declared.
I left the cloth on the bar and moved to the front window to watch the snow swirling around the deserted plaza.There wasn’t a soul out there.Which meant there was no point staying open any longer.
