LITMIR.BIZ

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as she slipped off the life jacket.

      “Let’s see.”

      They unpacked the kayak together. Callie grabbed the small rug he’d provided and spread it down farther up the bank in a spot shaded by a wiry native tree. She sat with her knees up, while Noah stretched out his long limbs beside her. There was fruit, soft bread rolls, cheese and smoked ham. They sat on the rug, eating and not saying much of anything for a while. Noah passed her a resin mug filled with coffee and she took it gratefully.

      The weather was warm with a gentle hint of breeze and there were birds calling out from the trees above. Water lapped at the edge of the small sandy inlet and the sound was faintly hypnotic.

      She put down her mug and uncurled her legs. “It’s a lovely spot. Do you come here often?”

      “Not much.”

      He wasn’t looking at her, she noticed. He was looking at the sand, his feet and the drink in his hand. She said his name again and he looked up. His green eyes were vibrant and wholly aroused. Heat rode up her spine at a galloping speed.

      “I didn’t,” he said quietly, interpreting her response, “bring you here with any motive other than to spend time with you.”

      “I know.” Callie rested back on her elbows, felt the wet suit stretch with her movements and saw his gaze narrow. “I also know you won’t rush me.”

      He sucked in a breath. “I’m glad you know that.”

      She relaxed fractionally. Dare she admit he was first man outside of her family who made her feel safe? “It’s not that I’m afraid of … of …” She waved her hand between them.

      “Of making love?”

      “With you?” She pushed herself up and let out a long breath. “No. It’s just that I’ve only ever been with one man in my whole life and it seems like such a long time ago.”

      “There’s no hurry.”

      Noah looked so calm and controlled. But Callie wasn’t fooled. He wanted her. Yet she knew he wouldn’t take what she wasn’t ready to give willingly. “There isn’t?” she queried with a husky breath. “You’re right.”

      His eyes glittered brilliantly. “You know, you’re looking at me like that isn’t helping my good intentions.”

      “Sorry,” she said on a breath. “I guess I’m out of practice at all this.”

      “Don’t be sorry.”

      The steady sincerity of his gaze raced directly to her heart. “Noah, I wish I was—”

      “Come here,” he directed softly. “Stop thinking. Stop talking. Just come here.”

      Callie resisted for a nanosecond and then she was in his arms. Noah captured her mouth in a deep, soul-wrenching kiss. She gripped his shoulders as he rolled her half on top of him. Their legs tangled and he grasped her hips, bringing her closer to the length of his body. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered against her mouth.

      Callie flung her head back and allowed him to trail hot kisses across her collarbone. She could feel him hard against her and her thighs parted, arching into his body. He touched her arms, her shoulders, her hands. He touched her over the wet suit, cradling her hips. Callie’s hands curled over his biceps and she sighed against his mouth. Touching him became as intrinsic as breathing. They kissed and kissed, absorbing one another. Noah rolled over in one swift move, lodging a leg between hers. Callie could feel the force of his erection and it fueled her desire, driving her to kiss him more, touch him more. She sighed, a deep shuddering sound that echoed through them both. She heard him groan, felt the rising urgency in his touch, knew that he was as driven by need as she was. He kissed her as he tugged the wet suit off her shoulders. He cupped her breast through the thin fabric of her bikini top and Callie felt a flood of moisture between her thighs, a longing deep down, driving her to want more, need more. Her hips rose in anticipation, waiting, wanting and screaming with need. She reached down to touch him, felt him hard against her palm, felt the power in her hands as he grew harder still against her stroking fingers. It was as if they had been doing this forever—as if they had known one another in another time, another life.

      “Callie,” he muttered, like the word was ripped from his throat. “We have to stop.”

      She put her hands into his hair. “No, please.”

      “We have to stop,” he said again, raggedly. “I don’t have a condom. I can’t protect you.”

      She clung to him. Some faraway voice told her he was right. But she wanted him so much. “It’s okay,” she breathed.

      “No,” he said, more groan than anything else. “It’s not. I won’t … I won’t make you pregnant. At least, not like this. Not here. And not yet.”

      Callie’s heart stilled, and pain filled every part of her chest. She felt herself move, retreat, pull away. She had to tell him of her pain. Her shame. “You’re right, Noah,” she whispered, suddenly cold. “You won’t make me pregnant.” A shuddering sigh came out. “I can’t have children.”

      Noah pulled back immediately. He felt her hurt through to the blood in his bones.

      She can’t have children.

      The pieces of the puzzle of who she was fell spectacularly into place. Of course. It made so much sense. Her son had died and she’d never have another.

      Then share mine burned on the edge of his tongue. He wanted to tell her, make her see that she could have children if she wanted them. His kids, who would welcome her into their life. He knew it as surely as he breathed. Even Lily. They needed her. He needed her.

      She scrambled up and took a few moments to readjust her clothing. Once she’d pushed her wetsuit back up she began collecting the leftover foodstuffs and blanket.

      Noah adjusted his own wet suit and moved behind her. “Callie?”

      She shook her head as she picked up the blanket and began folding. “I’d really rather not talk about it.”

      “I think we should,” he replied, not touching her but so close he felt her nearness like a magnetic field.

      “I can’t have kids,” she said, folding and refolding. “That’s really all there is to it.”

      “Because of the accident?”

      She turned around and faced him. “Yes.” A simple response to a complicated situation. And not nearly enough. He looked at her and she continued. “I had a lot of internal injuries. The doctors told me I have about a ten-percent chance of ever carrying a baby to full term.”

      He stared at her. “So you can get pregnant?”

      Obviously not the question she was expecting. “Well—yes, I suppose. I just can’t stay pregnant.”

      “Then we did the right thing by stopping.”

      “I guess we did,” she said stiffly.

      Noah took the blanket from her. “We did, Callie. Come on,” he said quietly. “The tide is coming in, we should get going.”

      They barely spoke on the trip back. When he dropped her home he stayed for a coffee he didn’t really want. On the porch, with Tessa at his feet, Noah felt the tension of unfulfilled desire beat between them like a drum.

      “You were right,” she said unsteadily before she sipped her coffee. “We were sensible to stop. I don’t think I could bear to get pregnant only to lose … to … well, you know what I mean. I guess that’s why I tell myself I can’t have children. It’s easier to cope with.”

      “Ten percent is still ten percent,” he said soothingly. “It’s a chance.”

      She shook her head. “No. It’s too big a risk. I didn’t really think a lot about children before

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