Out of This World

He looked pained at my word choice as I stalked past him into the bathroom. I shut the door and stripped by candlelight, then stepped into the raised bathtub and pulled the curtain around me, reminding myself that, unlike me, Kellan couldn’t see through the door or the curtain.

For now, I was utterly alone.

And because I was, maybe I could allow myself a few tears. Unfortunately, I wasn’t one of those women who cried easily or well. I certainly didn’t look good while doing it. My eyes always got all puffy, my nose ran unattractively and my cheeks became blotchy. Now was no different as I stood beneath the steady stream of hot water and let the pity party begin.

I sniffed noisily, then went still as I felt a whisper of movement. I stared at the shiny pink vinyl shower curtain surrounding me, then through it to the mirror on the wall reflecting my own astonished face right back at me, my hair plastered to my head, my wide, tear-reddened eyes. And then my eyes went even wider as I figured out what the sound had been.

Kellan opening the door. “Rach?”

I squeaked, then realized that while I could see him, he could not yet see me, since he hadn’t gotten hit by lightning. I slapped my hand over my mouth to keep back any telltale sounds that might escape, like the remaining sob.

But he was looking right at me. Or at the curtain. I shrank back until my spine and butt touched the icy tiles, making me jump at the unexpected goosing. “Get out!”

“Rach.”

I pointed at him, even though he couldn’t yet see me. It didn’t matter. I still felt like I was naked in front of a crowd. “Out.”

He gave a low shake of his head, and with a frustrated sob, I whirled away so I couldn’t see him, hugging myself tightly beneath the blast of hot water.

I felt another shifting of the cool air, and then the curtain was swept aside, and I squealed again, whipping back around. My quick movement sprayed Kellan with water right in the face.

“Get out!” I said.

“Are you crying?”

I swiped angrily at my eyes. Had he even noticed I was naked? “No, I’m not crying! And you’re peeking.”

But he wasn’t peeking at all. He was looking directly into my eyes, his own full of things that made more tears leak out of mine.

Damn it.

“You are,” he said, and clamped his hands down over my wrists, tugging me toward him. “You’re crying.”

“I’m going to be screaming in a minute,” I promised, trying to pull free to no avail. The hands that held me captive so easily were large and callused, and I liked the feel of them-too much-so I struggled to get loose before I lost all pride and threw myself against him.

“Christ.” The word seemed to slip out of him as he tried to hold onto me without actually touching me. I realized how I must look-wet, soaped up, naked…

And yeah, he’d definitely noticed the naked part.

Through his drenched clothing, I could see his heart quicken, his abs tighten. I could sense the rush of blood to places that weren’t thinking about the lightning or my new eyesight, or anything but this-just the two of us. “Go away,” I whispered, thinking, Don’t do it; don’t really go.

Eyes dark-so very dark-he gently squeezed my bare hips. “It’s going to be okay, Rach. I promise you.”

At that, I felt a rush of new tears. “That’s a promise you can’t keep,” I whispered.

“No, I keep all my promises. You know I do.”

It was true. From the promise in first grade to hold my hand at the school’s haunted house, to the one just last week to come here with me, and to all the promises in between, he’d never once failed me. “I’m okay,” I said, and he slowly nodded.

“Yeah, you are.”

I became incredibly aware of the steam rising around us, of the water hitting the tiles, of the way his clothes had become wet and plastered to his body.

“Kel?”

He blinked water out of his eyes. “Yeah?”

“I’m naked.”

He finally let his gaze slip then, let it run over my body, from head to toe, and then back up again, his only obvious reaction a tightening of his fingers on my hips.

And suddenly I no longer felt like crying. “Really naked.”

“I know,” he whispered, his voice husky and thick.

“And you’re not.”

Gaze still on mine, he pulled the sweatshirt over his head. His wet hair stuck straight up, which he ignored as he kicked off a shoe, then the sock. His other shoe wouldn’t come off, and he swore, breaking eye contact to bend and fumble with the wet, knotted laces. Finally he sent that shoe flying over his shoulder. It smashed into something on the counter behind him, and something hit the floor with a loud clatter.

He sent me an endearingly self-conscious smile.

I laughed, then gulped, as I let myself soak him up, my gaze trailing over his ribs, his abs and all those tightly defined muscles where his wet jeans sagged low. I wanted to kiss him there. Hell, I wanted to spread him on a damn cracker. I wanted-“You,” I breathed. “I want you.”

His hands stilled on the buttons on his Levi’s. “God, I’m an idiot.”

“What? Why?”

He backed up, his face tight in a mask of frustration. “I almost forgot.”

“Forgot what?”

“This isn’t right.”

Are you kidding? “Yes, it is.”

“No. It’s whatever happened to you out there.”

“I-”

“Listen to me. You’ve never wanted me like this before.” He cupped my face, his own quiet and unreadable, and I shut my eyes to absorb the feel of his touch. “Just sleep,” he said. “In the morning, it’ll feel different.”

“No, I-”

“Sleep,” he repeated, and I felt his lips brush my temple.

I wanted to pull him against me, have him fulfill my shower fantasy. That would help dispel the fear, I was sure of it. But when I opened my eyes, he was gone.

I stood there for a few more minutes. Slumped there, actually, against the wall, in sudden exhaustion. Finally I got out and managed to wrap my hair in one towel, my body in another.

Kel was waiting for me, but not like I wanted-needed. “Lie down.” He pointed to the bed as he passed me to take his turn in the shower. “Rest. I’ll be quick.”

But he wasn’t quick enough, because in spite of myself, I was out like a light before my head even hit the pillow.

I woke up some time later in the pitch dark and have to admit to letting out a very childish whimper. I was still wrapped in the towels, but I was totally and completely alone in the bed and so chilled that I could hardly feel my toes or fingers.

There was only one thing worse than that: knowing that the cookies were in the inn waiting for me. Climbing out of the bed, I moved to the doorway of the living room and wondered where my flashlight was. Then I remembered. I didn’t need it. I focused, and saw right through the dark. Kellan wasn’t on the couch, and my heart stopped.

What if I’d scared him off, and he’d left? What if it wasn’t the cookies all alone, but me?

Then I saw the long, lean length of him sprawled out on the throw rug in front of the couch, and I nearly collapsed in relief. He hadn’t left me. He’d only moved to the floor, which must have been more comfortable than the Victorian couch.

I wished he’d have come to me. I’d have moved over for him in a heartbeat. I’d even have given him half my