And she didn’t resist, because she wanted to be closer, wanted to be as close as a woman could be to a man, wanted to press against him, taste him, nestle against his strong chest and stay there forever, protected and warm.
She’d been chilled before, and tired. Now she was hot, full of restless energy that made her kiss him back and pull him closer.
Somewhere in the back of her mind, warning bells were ringing. There was a reason this wasn’t a good idea. They’d both agreed it wasn’t a good idea.
She shoved those rational thoughts aside and sighed against his mouth, then buried her face in his neck, inhaling the scent of him. Clean and fresh, with just a trace of musk underneath to hint at the passionate man she had just discovered him to be. Yeah. She could stay right here, breathing him in while he held her in his strong arms, forever.
He stroked her hair, then rested his cheek on the top of her head. “Whoa, Amber. You’re something else.”
It was probably just as well that the wind kicked up and made her shiver, because it woke her out of the pleasant spell his kiss had put on her. She pulled back a little and looked at him, unable to keep the smile off her face although she knew she must look as shell-shocked as he did.
“You’re cold.” He tucked his jacket closer around her.
It was tender, it was sweet, it was... “You’re not treating me like an invalid, are you?”
He chuckled, low and throaty. “Believe me, you as an invalid is the last thing I’m thinking about right now. Although—” his voice changed “—we should get you inside. I don’t want you to get chilled.”
“I’m not chilled,” she protested, but another whole-body shiver belied her words.
“Come on,” he said. “We need to get you inside. Does your friend Bisky have a house down here?”
“We’re not asking Bisky to take me in like I’m some kind of...” She trailed off.
“Cancer survivor? Who’s still getting her strength back?” He held out a hand and pulled her to her feet, then held his jacket so she could slide her arms into the sleeves.
Grrr. He knew too much. “Come on, I know just where we can go to get warm.” She took his hand and tugged him back toward the road.
Five minutes later, they were walking into the watermen’s bar against Paul’s protests.
“This is no place for a woman.” Paul was looking around, obviously taking in the dim lighting, the neon beer signs, the smoky haze that served as a reminder that this place didn’t follow the usual nonsmoking laws.
“Have you ever been here? Because I have. Hi, Steve,” she called to the bartender. She gave a wave to the couple other customers who were in here and they nodded back. Now she was showing off, because she didn’t know those guys well at all. She did know Steve the bartender, but it wasn’t as if she was a regular. She’d been in here once or twice with Bisky, that was all.
They sat at one of the booths that lined the wall, and then Paul went up to the bar. He came back with two mugs of coffee, both black. “Steve said you didn’t need any creamer or sugar.”
“Steve’s a good bartender. He remembers.”
“He remembers you drink coffee in a bar.” Paul slid in across from her and pushed one of the cups her way. “I think you talk a better game than you play. I don’t think you’ve spent much time in here, and if you did, I don’t think you were drinking.”
“Busted. I just don’t enjoy it the way I did when I was younger and wilder.”
“That’s best with your health issues. You need to take care of yourself.”
It was sweet, and it was probably because he remembered Wendy’s cancer. That made her feel strange. He’d loved Wendy, been married to her for years, and all of a sudden, Amber felt weirdly jealous. Of a dead woman.
It also made her think about Wendy and the big secret about Davey. The more Amber knew Paul, the harder Wendy’s actions were to fathom.
Wendy had seemed so straight and narrow, almost rigid. It was hard to believe she would have cheated on anyone, let alone a man like Paul: kind, a fantastic dad, a great kisser.
But there it was. Wendy had had an affair, and Davey was the result of it.
She looked at Paul, at his kind, open face. Knowing he wasn’t Davey’s biological father, knowing Wendy had betrayed him, well, he’d be devastated.
And Wendy wasn’t around to ask if the secret could be told, anyway.
She took a big gulp of coffee for courage. Then she looked directly into Paul’s eyes. “That kiss shouldn’t have happened.”
He tilted his head to one side, studying her as if he wondered where she was coming from.
“It wouldn’t work between us. I’m not up for a quick hookup, although...” She couldn’t resist grinning at him. “I think we can both see that a quick hookup would be awesome while it was happening.”
“It would be,” he said. “But it wouldn’t have to be quick.”
She sucked in a breath. “Okay, so it would probably be a long, slow, sexy hookup.”
His eyes heated, and for a minute, he looked like he was going to come across the table at her.
She swallowed and leaned back, away from his intensity. “But then it would be over, and neither of us would feel good about it. We’re just not at a place in life where something casual will work.”
“Why does it have to be casual?”
“I have a 40 percent chance of recurrence.” Even just saying those words made her stomach cramp, but she pushed past it. This was too important to wimp out about, so she forced herself to go on. “I could die. You’ve already been through that, and more importantly, Davey has already been through that, and he shouldn’t go
