Close to You

the counter behind her to keep
grounded.
    He nuzzled her cheek with his nose.
“You smell like Christmas.”
    It took her a moment before she
realized what he meant. “I baked cinnamon rolls.”
    “ Delicious,” he
murmured.
    She felt his breath against her neck
and shivered. She waited for his lips to kiss her there—it’d been
so long since anyone had kissed her neck—but he hovered a
frustrating distance away.
    His hand tightened on her waist. “I
may want one.”
    “ I can give it to
you.”
    “ Can you?”
    “ Just ask,” she
whispered.
    He speared his fingers through her
hair and tugged her head back. “I’m going to ask, you know. Not
this morning, because we both have commitments, but
soon.”
    She gazed into his eyes. “I’m going to
say yes.”
    His grip tightened reflexively and
something hot and possessive flared in his expression. “Good,” he
said as he reluctantly let her go.
    She grabbed his hand before he could
leave. “Thank you.”
    He nodded, squeezing back. She could
tell he knew exactly what she meant, and that warmed her all the
way down to her heart.
     

Chapter Nine
     
    Grant was waiting for her in the
parking lot, leaning against a car bumper.
    Margaret’s step faltered, and she
slowed as she climbed the hill. Since that day he’d accosted her in
that exact same spot, she’d taken to going for her walk either
earlier or later than her usual time to avoid running into him. He
seemed like the sort of man who wouldn’t take no for an answer, and
she had no intention of having a drink with him much less anything
else.
    Why would he want to,
anyway? Every time she looked into a reflective surface, the person
who stared back at her was desiccated and dull. That he was
interested in this person who even she didn’t like made her
suspicious.
    He was definitely interested. She eyed
him as she approached. He watched her steadily, the barest hint of
amusement lighting his face.
    It was a nice face, actually. Hair
more gray than brown, dimples in his cheeks, a nose that looked
like it’d been broken at one time. She couldn’t see them now, but
his eyes had been the gray of a foggy San Francisco
morning.
    She frowned, her hand touching her
pearls. It didn’t matter what his eyes looked like. She was done,
already halfway in the grave.
    She didn’t know what was scarier:
dying, or going broke and becoming homeless.
    She expected him to get up and walk to
her but he didn’t move as she neared. He stayed where he was, arms
crossed, watching her get closer. He was tall, taller than her, and
she was tall for a woman. Unlike many of the men her age, he didn’t
have a paunch. He looked lean and fit in his sweater and
slacks.
    She had the urge to walk around to the
other side of the parking lot, but she didn’t want him to think he
had her running, even if he did. Neither was she going to give him
the upper hand, so she stopped in front of him and spoke first.
“The answer is still no.”
    “ I realize that, but it
doesn’t mean I’m not going to try to change your mind.” He tipped
his head. “You look tired.”
    “ Telling a woman she looks
haggard isn’t the way to her heart.”
    “ Do you think I want your
heart?”
    She didn’t have any of her heart left.
“If you do, you’re in for disappointment.”
    “ I’m willing to risk
it.”
    She clutched her pearls, her other arm
across her midsection. “Are you one of those men who can’t resist a
challenge?”
    “ All men can’t resist a
challenge. Some just give up sooner than others.” He smiled, his
dimples flashing. “I don’t give up.”
    “ It’s a waste of
time.”
    “ You’re talking to me now,
aren’t you?” he said without a hint of smugness.
    Still, she bristled. “Not for
long.”
    Stiffly, she turned to finish her
walk, but suddenly he was right in front of her.
    The closeness of him stopped her. She
hadn’t been so close to a man in so long. She stared up at him,
shocked into stillness.
    He didn’t touch her, simply studying
her in return.
    She wanted to withdraw, to run away
before he could see how empty she was on the inside. But then why
shouldn’t he see? What better way to repel him than to show him
what she was really like.
    Lifting her chin, she silently dared
him to see the real her—the dried, ageing husk that he was so eager
to get to know.
    She could feel him taking her in. All
of her—outside and in.
    “ You aren’t going to scare
me away, you know.” Taking her hand,