Free The Wedding Gift by Sandra Steffen Page A

breathe.”
    Swallowing audibly, she said, “You’re passionate about everything, your car, your food, your career.”
    â€œAnd you’re not?” he asked.
    â€œI like what I do, but I chose nursing because it’s safe.” It was true. It was just one of the decisions she and Aaron had made together. He would be a teacher. She would be a nurse. They would graduate from high school with honors, finish college, save for a house, plan their wedding, and someday have children, preferably a boy and a girl. Those dreams crashed down around them before either of them turned twenty-four.
    â€œI’m definitely not a risk-taker, and I don’t want you to think—”
    He took her hand, stopping her in midsentence. “I don’t know what you were like before I met you, but you took a risk when you burst through the gate at the construction site Friday. How many times have you thrown caution to the wind since? You asked me about Fiona. She’s pleasant, but she wanted a commitment, and I’m not good at forever. You’re staying five more days. It’s up to us how far we take this attraction while you’re here.”
    He looked at her, and she knew. He was going to kiss her.
    He tipped her head back with one finger and brought his mouth to hers. The instant their lips touched, the kiss spun into a roller coaster ride of sensation.
    She’d expected his kiss to be polished and calculated, a process to get from point A to point C. There was no point A. There was only a mating of lips and air and instinct. It was a blending, a melding of holding on and letting go. It was need in the present moment, and it was potent.
    His lips were firm, the kiss wet and wild and a little rough on noses and chins. They simply adjusted the angle and opened their mouths, setting their moans free.
    When it was over, she held perfectly still. Her knees didn’t give out and the earth didn’t move, but she knew that what he’d said was true. The connection between them was alive.
    She backed up, swallowed. Her breath seemed to have solidified in her throat. She hadn’t been kissed in a long time. And never quite like this. “I shouldn’t have come here.”
    â€œI disagree.”
    Of course he did. When had he ever agreed with anything she’d said? “I should go home.”
    â€œIt’s only five days, Madeline. If you leave, you’ll never know what would have happened during those five days.”
    He started for the arborvitae hedge, calling the dog as he went. She remained where she was until the pair of them disappeared on the other side. They didn’t look back.
    She wondered how it would feel to be so sure of something. She used to be that sure. That felt like another woman’s life.
    Shaken, she went in through the cottage’s front door. Slowly turning in a circle, she sank to the sofa, only to jump up again. She ran into the bedroom and dropped onto all fours. She hauled her suitcase out from under the bed, then heaved it onto the mattress and unzipped it as if it was somehow at fault. She yanked the closet open and tossed the only dress she’d brought with her into the open suitcase on the bed. Her slicker went in next. Something fell from the pocket and fluttered to the floor.
    Aaron lay staring up at her.
    She went utterly still for a moment. Her heart constricted and her lips quivered. It was the last photograph she’d taken of him. He’d been late for school, but had turned when she’d called his name. There was liveliness in his blue eyes. It was the last time she would ever see him smile.
    She scooped the photo off the floor and made a run for the back door. She didn’t stop until the heels of her shoes sank into the wet sand at the water’s edge.
    Heart aching, she stared into the distance. The lake was blue and empty today, and so mighty, eighty miles across. Overhead the dome of clouds was lifting. The