Out Of The Blue (The Wrong Bed #12)(28)

"My plants like to be talked to."

"You did all this?"

She seemed startled by the question, and she relaxed, making him realize she'd been tense enough to shatter.

Because of him? Undoubtedly.

Distance, he reminded himself. She'd managed to find it, he needed to do the same.

"I love to grow things," she said. "It's beautiful out here."

And so are you.

"Thank you." She rose gracefully to her feet, her long, bare legs as streaked with dirt as the rest of her.

He stared at them so long he nearly didn't realize she was walking away from him. "Wait!"

When she did, he was at a loss as to what to say. "Last night … that was beautiful, too."

"Oh, Zach…" Something vulnerable and haunting crossed her features.

"Is it that awful?" he asked quietly. "The remembering?"

"The opposite." A wry smile crossed her face. "It's just that I thought it best if … well." Drawing a deep breath, she sent him a sad smile. "Be safe, Zach."

"Are you saying goodbye then?"

Her silence was his answer, and he felt his own spear of hurt. "I should tell you, I can't seem to walk away."

"Me, either," she whispered. "I just don't know what to say. You … just standing there, you make my knees weak. I'm feeling so out of my element."

"Just about everything you've done since I saw you again has made my knees weak. And if it helps, I'm also way out of my element." Because he had to, he pulled her close.

She gasped and tried to pull away. "I'll get you filthy!"

"Dirt, strawberry pie, it's all the same to me." He streaked his hands down her back, and at the connection she stopped fighting him and slid her arms around his neck.

"This is a very bad idea," she said, even as she hugged him tighter.

"Definitely." Burying his face in her hair, he held her close, and all the feelings he'd been fighting struggled to the surface.

Heat. Hunger. Desire.

Yearning.

Her fingers wound themselves in his hair, and she let out a long sigh. "Somehow when you're not right in front of me I can tell myself I'm imagining all this … this stuff I feel right now."

"Me, too."

"What are we doing, Zach?"

"I haven't a clue. I just know I feel so alive when I'm with you."

She lifted her head and looked at him.

"I like it," he whispered. "Feeling alive. And I think I make you feel the same way."

"You do, but you're going away. I have to remember that."

"Yes, we both know how it's going to end. We always did."

"And that's supposed to make it easy?" She closed her eyes. "I'm sorry. After all, I'm the one that started this."

"So let's finish it." The words shocked him as much as her. "We have a few days left."

"I can't. I can't let my heart get in this."

He had the terrifying feeling it was too late for both of them.

"It all happened so quickly. I didn't expect that. It's going to be so hard to let you go."

"Then don't think about it," he suggested. "Think about last night, and how good it was. How good it could be right now if we run up to my room."

"Don't." She let out a low, nervous laugh. "Don't even talk! You could coax me into doing anything with that voice of yours."

"Really?" That had interesting—and erotic—possibilities.

Her gaze met his and held. "Really." Another rueful laugh escaped her. "Please … don't even try." Her voice quivered, and her hands, which she tucked under her arms, shook.

"Hannah…" But what could he say? That he'd never hurt her? But he would, just by being what he was, who he was.

And since it was too late, they were both bound for anguish no matter what happened now, he didn't want to let her go. "There are telephones in Los Angeles, you know. And e-mail." God, he'd really lost his mind now. "The drive isn't so bad really—"

"You're only saying that now, in the heat of the moment, but you don't mean it." She shook her head, her eyes huge and solemn. "Don't make me a promise you can't keep, Zach."

He cupped her face and traced her mouth with his thumb, unsure of everything except how he felt when she was in his arms.

"Don't," she repeated, but she tipped her head up for a kiss, which he gave her. It was a heart and soul kiss, and they both sighed, deepening it until they tore apart, breathless. Staring at each other.

Then she walked away, leaving him alone in the garden, lonely heart pounding in tune to the waves.

*

Zach spent that night alone. It was nothing new, he spent most nights alone, and yet he'd never felt so lonely in his life.

By morning, he decided physical exercise was what he needed to shake the melancholy. Two miles later and two nearly collapsed lungs, he sank gratefully to the beach in front of the lodge.

"Some relaxing vacation," Alexi noted dryly, coming up behind him to sit next to him. She handed him a towel and a bottle of water and sent him a little smile.