Page 15 of Blazing Hot Nights
“How is your shoulder?”
“Coming along,” I answered, even though it wasn’t. I refused to tell Blaze that. The last thing I wanted was him to put his warm, tender, gentle hands back on it and start massaging. Okay, so that was exactly what I wanted, but I also hated how much I wanted it. When he had his hands on me, I told myself it was only to have a few moments of relief from the pain. It wasn’t. It was to be connected to him again for a brief second in time. To feel that electricity flow through me and remind me I was alive. The reason I didn’t let myself think about it was that it could very well lead to me letting my guard down. I couldn’t let that happen. Not after the last time. Not after he had kissed me once and never again. Not after he had found so little excitement in my kiss that he hadn’t talked to me for four years.
If he found no excitement in your kiss, why did Mr. Monster find so much excitement in your perusal of him?
Get a grip, Heaven.Men get hard just by breathing. He probably rubbed it the wrong way with his towel. I snorted and choked on my swallow of beer, swiping at my mouth with my arm when liquid dribbled out.
“You are the strangest woman I’ve ever met.” Blaze’s laughter was deep and rich as he shook his head.
“I’ll take that as a compliment. I never want to be normal. Normal is—”
“Boring,” he finished. “Like Callie. Callie was boring.”
I lowered my bottle to the arm of my chair as my eyes widened. I cleared my throat a couple of times before I spoke. “She was boring, but you still married her?”
He shrugged as if the answer should be obvious. “I still loved her, even if she was boring. She liked order and was good at the business side of ranching. I guess she liked boring and predictable.” Blaze shrugged again and pretended as though that statement didn’t just knock me flat on my ass.
“Just because she liked boring and predictable doesn’t mean she was boring.”
He tipped his head in agreement, his gaze glued to the fire. “True, but in her case, she became boring. The monotony of ranch life slowly started to wear off on her. When we first met, Callie loved to ride a horse in a flat-out sprint. You’d hear her laughter across the entire ranch.”
“You were sixteen when you met. Life changes people. Maturity changes them.”
“It didn’t change you,” he said, turning in the chair to eye me up and then back down. “You haven’t changed since the day I met you.”
I laughed with my head tipped back to the cloudless sky. The giant white moon shone down upon my face, and I remembered back to the first time I met Blaze. “I was seventeen when we first met. My daddy wouldn’t let me near your ranch the first few years you were in town.”
“What does that have to do with it?”
I motioned at the space around us. “A lot of things have changed since then.”
“I didn’t say things. I said you.”
“I’ve changed, Blaze, as much as you have. Just in a different way. I’ve changed so much I don’t recognize who I am anymore.”
He blew out a long breath and ran his hand through his hair, which I noticed for the first time was missing his signature Stetson. “I’m worried about you, Heaven. Have been for a few years.”
I poked at the fire with my fire-poking stick. He’d better be careful, or I’d make it my Blaze-poking stick. “Sure. You were so worried that you blame me for everything. You were so worried when my daddy died that you even showed up at the funeral dressed in your western best to pay your respects.” I paused and then let out a yee-hawing guffaw. “Oh … wait … you didn’t.”
“I wasn’t in a good place when Duane died, Heaven.”
“Gee, thanks, Sherlock. Neither was I. You know what? I think it’s time for bed.” I stood and grabbed the bucket of sand to put the fire out, but he grabbed my wrist before I could.
“I didn’t come here to fight with you.”
“You could have fooled me.”
He stood and took the bucket from me, setting it out of the way and pointing to the chair for me to sit. I did, reluctantly, too tired and in too much pain to fight with him. He walked behind me and started kneading my shoulder like a baker kneading his wares. I bit my lip to keep from moaning at how good it felt. Where had those magical hands been all my life?
You’re supposed to be mad at him, Heaven!
Oh, right! He was on the neighboring ranch, screwing up my life!
I had to bite back the laughter wanting to escape my lips at my internal arguing. He could drive me batty, but when his warm hands took away the pain every time he touched me, it was hard to stay mad at him. The pain had been excruciating since the accident, and turning down a few minutes of relief was too hard to do. That didn’t mean I wasn’t mad at him, but I was willing to put it aside for a break from the torture.
“I came over to apologize,” he said. “I was out of line the other day. I always get combative this time of year, but you don’t deserve my anger about something that wasn’t your fault.”
I braced my elbow on the chair and leaned my forehead on my palm.
