Page 31 of Almost Priest

He reached to the opposite side of his chair and faced her again with a water bottle. He handed it to her. “Here, have a sip of water.”

She took it from him and wanted to scream when she saw how badly her hands were shaking.Fuck!Her fingers reached to unscrew the lid and accidentally dropped the cool bottle into the sand, the grains immediately gluing to the condensation.

“Goddamn it,” she hissed and then realized her mistake. She looked at him apologetically, but the moment she opened her mouth to say sorry her lungs took it upon themselves to gulp down a much needed breath of air. Her chest tightened painfully as her heart raced like she’d just sprinted a mile. Her eyes blinked rapidly as dizziness threatened to make her faint.

Damn it, she was having an anxiety attack. She hadn’t had one in almost ten months. She really thought she was over them.

“Shit,” Colin muttered and quickly got out of his chair and knelt in front of her. He turned her face toward him and instructed calmly, “Sammy, look at me. It’s okay, just breathe.”

He reached for her fisted hand and unclenched her fingers, placing her open palm on his chest directly over his strong heartbeat. His skin was smooth and warm. “Breathe with me.”

She looked into his blue-green eyes. They were so close he only managed to take her breath away once more. She watched him inhale and the warmth of his breath caressed her cheek as he slowly exhaled. Unbelievably, calm washed over her and her panic receded as her breathing slowed.

Never seeming to blink or break eye contact, he nodded and slowly smiled. “That a girl. You got it. Just breathe with me.”

His hand somehow managed to find the back of her neck. His thumb drew careful circles over the fine baby hair that never quite made it into her ponytail. When her breathing returned to normal he still didn’t let her go.

Realizing their proximity, Samantha knew she should extricate herself from his hold before someone approached and misinterpreted their position. It was crucial that she avoid having to explain what just happened. But something held her there, something stronger than Colin’s touch.

Similar to the shift in the air she felt earlier when Braydon was about to kiss her, the air shifted again, only this time the shift was something more, something potent as if creating a vortex that would swallow her whole if she allowed it to touch her.

Was he going to kiss her?

They looked at each other, their faces so close she could actually see the tiny flecks of gold in his irises.

“That’s it, Sammy,” he whispered. “Breathe.”

She wondered if he realized she was fine now. If he was only pretending she still needed him so that he didn’t have to let her go. They each leaned closer and she suddenly didn’t care about who might be watching. She wanted him to kiss her more than she wanted her next breath. Her lashes slowly lowered and his palm slid to the side of her neck, his thumb caressing that soft spot below her earlobe and her jaw. She leaned into the caress. His hand cupped her face, but didn’t stop her. As a matter of fact he seemed to follow the movement by sifting his fingers gently through her hair.

A whispered sigh passed her lips that somehow carried the weight of a siren.

Colin’s hand was immediately withdrawn and he was on his feet. Jarred by the sudden movement, she looked up at him. He seemed to be the one having trouble breathing.

She shook her head as if to tell him nothing would have happened, but they both seemed to know that was a lie not worth being uttered.

Apparently desperate for an escape, Colin did the safest thing to assure she didn’t follow him. He turned without a word and didn’t stop moving until he dove into the safety of the water.

CHAPTER7

The following day was peaceful. It was Monday so many of the McCulloughs were at work. Even Braydon decided to pick up some extra money and help out his family as they worked logging in the nearby woods. Sam was enjoying the day with Maureen and Mary, who insisted she call her Morai, which was pronouncedMorree.

She hadn’t seen or spoken to Colin since their encounter on the beach. He considerately avoided her by swimming to the dock and remaining there until she and Sheilagh left the beach. She wasn’t sure if he was even in the house.

Sam woke up early in the morning to the sound of the shower running, and once she realized he was naked on the other side of the door it became impossible to go back to sleep. Tossing and turning until sounds of the rest of the family awaking broke the silence of the house and she finally showered and dressed.

There had been something so peculiarly intimate about showering in the same place he had recently been standing, both naked, water from her body mixing with the water that had sloshed off his skin…that was the pathetic route her thoughts had taken the entire day.

After she’d dressed, she ventured to other parts of the house and found Maureen working on something in the kitchen. Needing the distraction from her thoughts, she offered to help. They were making up a basket for a woman in town named Francine who had recently fallen down the church steps and broken her foot.

Maureen was one of those impressively talented chefs that knew recipes for anything by heart and could measure accurately with nothing more than her fingers or palms. She directed Sam without overtures or requests. Her directions could offend some, but Sam was not insulted. She found it flattering that Maureen had enough faith and confidence in her skills to simply assume she could do any task well. Her high standards only made Samantha want to please her more.

As she plugged apples into a hand cranked peeler bolted to the counter she continued to wind the mechanism as long strands of green apple peels spiraled into a brown bag resting on the floor. Maureen filled the silence with chatter from everything about the town gossip to stories of her children’s youth. It seemed the woman knew there was no future for Samantha and Braydon, yet still spoke to her as if she was meant to stay.

This confused Samantha, the way Maureen invested in sharing with her personal antidotes that were a prerequisite to becoming a member of the McCullough clan, but she was enjoying herself too much to ask Braydon’s mother why she bothered.

Around four o’clock Colleen, Maureen’s older sister, came in looking flustered, but still in good spirits. Samantha understood her mood the moment a little old woman followed her into the kitchen rapidly speaking in…Italian?

Colleen rolled her eyes and mumbled, “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, somebody hand me a drink or a shotgun. This has been going on for over an hour.”

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