Finding Our Forever (Silver Springs #1)(20)

“Same thing you are, I suppose.”

“You can’t sleep.”

“I have something on my mind.”

“And that is...”

“You.”

Cora squinted across the distance between them, trying to make out his expression. He was lonely, too, she realized. As much as he tried to pretend otherwise, he had to be. He was so aloof, so careful to warn most everyone away. She was no psychologist, but after what he’d been through, that had to be a defense mechanism. And what he’d said about Aiyana seemed to prove it. By his own admission, Aiyana had only busted through his reserve because she wouldn’t take no for an answer.

Maybe that was what getting close to him required—the ability to love without expectation, without measuring or demanding anything in return. Cora could understand why that might be the case. He was tired of disappointing the women he dated, tired of feeling inadequate when they became disappointed. She’d sensed that in what he’d had to say earlier. There’d been a degree of fatalism, as if he’d given up.

His previous girlfriends had probably wanted to establish a regular relationship, one that escalated toward marriage. So they had an agenda, of sorts. Cora, on the other hand, had no agenda. She wasn’t looking for a long-term relationship, couldn’t have one with him, anyway, not without a very honest conversation she wasn’t willing to have.

So...what if she just gave him someone to be with while she was here, some meaningful intimacy that was warm and supportive without pushing him for anything more?

“Sounds like you could use a massage,” she said.

There was a moment of silence. Then he said, “Are you offering to give me one?”

She could tell he wasn’t really asking about a massage, just as she knew he understood her answer wouldn’t be strictly limited to one. “Sure.”

“Tonight—or do I have to wait a few weeks?”

She chuckled. “Don’t push your luck.”

The darkness made it difficult to tell for sure, but she was fairly certain she’d gotten a smile out of him.

“You wouldn’t be out here if you weren’t as taken with the idea as I am,” he said.

“You have a point, I suppose.”

“You’re not going to pretend otherwise?”

“No. Should we go to your place—or mine?”

He hopped off the fence and came toward her. “Mine.”

“Any particular reason?”

“I don’t have neighbors.”

“Mr. Maggleby does tend to keep tabs on me.”

“Mr. Maggleby is probably down for the count, but my house would still be better.”

Cora drew a steadying breath as he advanced. She’d be spending the night with him. She’d just made the commitment, wouldn’t feel good about backing out now.

Fortunately, she didn’t want to. But her motives weren’t entirely altruistic. She’d been craving the opportunity to touch him since the first day she’d met him.

And now she was going to have her chance.





Chapter Seven

Elijah’s small A-frame was the most isolated house on the ranch and the hardest to reach, which suited him well, Cora thought as he showed her inside and closed the door behind them. He had plenty of privacy here. She got the impression that few people were ever invited inside, and that included the students he cared so much about. This was his place of retreat where he could put some distance between him and other people, since people were what he probably considered to be the biggest challenge life had to offer. Everything else seemed to come easy for him.

“Would you like a drink?” he asked.

Cora shook her head. “No. I’m good.”

“Are you sure? Maybe a glass of wine?” Now that he had her inside, he was treating her as if she might bolt if he wasn’t careful or courteous enough. That was another thing that made her wonder if he wasn’t quite comfortable with having company. She got the impression he almost didn’t know what to do with her—how to get from where they were in this moment to where he hoped to go, which wasn’t in keeping with how he behaved in every other circumstance she’d noted so far.

“Okay.” She relented, thinking that might help. “I’ll have a glass of wine.”

While he opened a bottle and poured, she wandered around his living room, which was very utilitarian—so utilitarian that the walls were completely bare. She couldn’t find one thing that defined him as a person, nothing that spoke of who he was or what he liked, even on the shelves or counters. She’d never seen a house stripped down to the bare essentials before. The men she’d known had a tendency to decorate sparsely, but still.

Was it just that Elijah didn’t know how to make a house a home? Or was the ability to reveal even that much of himself also locked inside the “box” he’d mentioned?

“Aren’t you going to have one?” she asked when he handed her a glass and stood back to watch her drink it.

“No.”

So much for letting a drink ease them into the evening... “Why not?”

“I’m not interested.”

He was too single-minded to drink right now, Cora decided. He knew what he wanted, and it wasn’t wine. But he was trying to wait his turn. “So you were merely being polite by offering me one.”