Page 23 of Perfectly Matched: Harbor Falls Romance Collection

Shelley blinked herself awake and stared into a smoldering fire. The embers were red and glowing, pulsating against the semi-darkness of the room—much like her body thrummed in the night each time Matt made hot and steamy love to her. The first time they came together was fast and unrestrained. The second was slow and deliberate, making up for years of neglect.

Now, as morning closed in, the room was chilly and the fire dying. She hoped that was not a metaphor for things to come. Few words were said while they made love and Shelley knew that today, the dialogue they had avoided during the night would have to happen.

Matt spooned her from behind as they faced the fireplace. He’d wrapped her in a cocoon made of his body and the afghan after their last, exhausting love-making session. His breathing was even, with deep easy breaths, warm against her neck. His arm lay heavy across her shoulder and chest, holding her close.

It would be easy to get lost in this. Waking up with him every morning. Feeling safe and secure and protected, here in this cabin.

No. It was a fantasy. Couldn’t happen.

Could it?

Sighing, she squeezed her eyes tight. No, she was vulnerable. It was too soon. He really didn’t want her. They had succumbed to… Something physical. Need. Want. A reaction from the accident. Right?

This wasn’t real. This couldn’t last.

Could it?

Shivering, she pulled the afghan up closer to her chin, unsure if it was an effort to keep warm, or ward off negative thoughts that tempted to invade her momentary bliss.

****

“Cold?”

Awake for several minutes, Matt avoided stirring, not wanting to wake her. Dammit, that wasn’t the truth. It was more primal than that. He didn’t want to move, to break contact with her body. Having Shelley nestled up against him was like a balm to his aching heart, a salve for his soul.

He didn’t want her to leave. He didn’t know how to ask her to stay. Or if he should.

“No, not really,”

she said quietly.

With his eyes closed, he tightened his hold on her and pictured them together in his mind’s eye. What would it be like, to wake up like this when they were old and gray.

“I’ll get up in a minute and stoke the fire back to life,”

he mumbled.

He’d rather stoke her fire, but now, as daylight teased through the windows, he didn’t feel as confident about that as he did in the dark of night.

“Take your time,”

she whispered.

“I’m warm enough.”

Again, she sighed deeply, and he wondered what that meant. He’d like to think it was a sigh of contentment, although not convinced that it was. “Me, too.”

Quiet settled around them, interrupted only with an intermittent crackle and hiss from the fireplace.

“Has the snow stopped?”

She sounded tentative, uncertain.

“Not sure.”

Sitting up on an elbow, he glanced at the kitchen window and then back to Shelley. The afghan fell to her waist and his gaze trailed over the curve of her naked back. He debated massaging her shoulders and trailing his fingers over her satin skin until she gave in and let him take her again, but he didn’t act on it. She didn’t turn toward him either, instead continuing to stare into the fire.

Awkward.

Instead, he settled behind her. His palm lay loose over her chest and he was certain he felt the subtle beating of her heart.

“I think the snow has stopped. I’ll check on the road conditions in a minute.”

He felt the nod of her head. She said nothing.

“Are you okay?”

He whispered, not certain how to begin the conversation he knew needed to be had.

She didn’t immediately answer, still looking intently ahead. After a moment, she turned in his arms toward him. A ray of morning light slanted in the window across her face. She looked dewy and soft, her eyes a bit misty, her face lined with worry.

“I don’t know how I am.”

Matt traced the outline of her face with his forefinger, and then crooked it under her chin. She trembled as he stroked her tender skin with a light touch of his thumb while searching her face.

“Guess we’re in a weird place, huh?”

“Sort of. You hate me, Matt. I—.”

He put a finger on her lips and huffed out a breath.

“Shelley, if I hated you I couldn’t have made love to you last night like I did. Like we did.”

Her eyes shut tight. Tiny crinkles shot out from the corners.

“Matt…”

she sucked in a breath and exhaled.

“I don’t know… We…”

“Shelley, look at me.”

She did, her blue eyes questioning.

“I don’t hate you.”

“You told me to stay away from you.”

“That was yesterday. I was mad.”

“You’ve been mad at me for a long time. I hurt you. Bad.”

He paused, careful with his next words. She was right. The hurt, even though for a while last night had lessened, still hadn’t gone away. He didn’t want to lie, and he didn’t want to sugarcoat.

“Yes. I’ve been mad at you for a long time. You did hurt me.”

“That doesn’t go away overnight.”

“No. No, you’re right.”

“But you could still make love to me?”

“I… Shelley, yes.”

She stared at him.

“How can you turn it off and on like that?”

Her voice rose.

“Shelley, you were finally here, in my house. So many things were going through my head… I wanted—”

“You wanted sex.”

Stunned, he pulled back.

“No, it wasn’t like that. I wanted you.”

Her head shook and he wasn’t sure she heard anything he said. Not really.

“I didn’t think,”

she began.

“I… I didn’t think, Matt. I let you, us…. I didn’t think of the consequences. And now…”

Shit. What was she saying.

“And now what?”

She pushed away and drew the afghan up to her chest.

“Maybe… Oh, Matt. Maybe this was a mistake. I just don’t know…”

Dammit! How in hell could he let himself get sucked in again? He sat up, tossing the afghan off him and fully onto her. Standing now, he found his sweatpants and stepped into them.

“Never mind, Shelley. I get it. You just woke up with the realization you had ‘oh shit’ sex.”

“What?”

He raked his fingers through his hair and paced.

“You know, ‘oh shit’ sex. You wake up, realize you’re in bed with someone, and you’re not sure why you did it, and you think, ‘oh shit, what the hell have I done?’”

Shelley sat straight up.

“Matt, that’s not what I was thinking! I would never think that about you. It’s just that we are starting over. It’s very soon, and… Oh hell.”

He waved her off.

“Never mind. I get it.”

Her eyes widened.

“Get what?”

He needed a change of venue and fast. Shit. They were snowbound. Were they still? What were the roads like? His brain spun with confusion. Could he get out of here? Didn’t matter. He needed out of the house, now, away from Shelley. To think.

To put up that guard around his heart again, perhaps.

A quick glimpse to the hearth told him they were low on firewood.

“I’m going to get wood. While I’m out, I’ll check on the weather and radio down to Harbor Falls to see about the roads.”

With a brisk turn toward him, she wrapped the afghan around her and stood.

“Do you think we can get out of here today?”

The look on her face held a sense of urgency.

“In that much of a hurry to leave?”

Her brows knit and she glanced toward the door.

“No, Matt. I—”

He stomped away, then halted and spun around, and her words cut off. Laughing aloud, he interrupted.

“Of course, you are in a hurry to leave. That’s what you’re good at, Shelley. Leaving. Why should I expect anything different?”

His stare bit into her eyes.

“Don’t worry. I’ll get you off this goddamned mountain. I wouldn’t want you to stick around for too long and get, well, attached or anything.”

Immediately, her eyes welled up and she lifted her chin in defiance. He knew that gesture well. She used to do it when they were kids and he’d pissed her off. Dammit, but he didn’t want or need to see it again because it has always melted his resistance like butter on a corn cob.

He’d hurt her. Hadn’t meant to.

Maybe it was better this way. If she hated him, it would easier all the way around.

“It’s Christmas morning, Matt,”

she bit out.

“I was thinking about my girls.”

He deflated. Feeling like heel, he swiped at his sweatshirt and picked it up. With the same motion, he tucked his heart back deep in his chest, safe and secure. Why the hell had it let it out? This was impossible, and the sooner they both realized it, the better off they’d both be.

“Of course. Your girls.”

“They are important to me. Matt, they are all I have.”

Of course.

Dammit. His brain swirled with uncertainty. With emotion he couldn’t pin down. Fear. Trust, or the lack of it. Worry. Love?

He clenched and unclenched his fists, trying to gain some semblance of control.

“Of course, Shelley. I’m sorry. I understand that you need to get to your girls. They want their mother, too, on Christmas morning. I get it.”

“Okay…”

She bit her lip.

“Matt, this is all a mess and we need to talk about it. All of it.”

He nodded.

“Yes. But not now. Let’s get you back to your family, and honestly, I need to see if I can get to mine. Looks like we both have obligations.”

After a moment, she agreed.

“Okay, Matt. Okay.”

Somehow, he didn’t think it was okay. Dammit, he wasn’t good at this relationship thing. Not good at all. He’d screwed them up years ago with his lofty dreams and goals. What made him think he wouldn’t screw it up again? He jerked the sweatshirt over his head while she watched. Her gaze trailed his every move. He really didn’t want to look at her, wrapped up in his afghan, naked underneath….

Couldn’t. His resolve might crumble.

Striding toward where his coat and boots rested, he donned them with a brief backward glance.

“I’ll be back in a few minutes. Make yourself at home.”

Immediately, he regretted those words. Home. This cabin would never be a home for Shelley. There was too much bad history between them. He doubted either of them had the energy or the inclination to turn all the negatives around.

He knew he didn’t.

Yanking open the cabin door, he stepped out onto his snow-drifted stoop and looked at his Jeep.

“Dammit all to hell.”

He’d have to dig out but dig out he would. No way could he spend one more night alone in this cabin with Shelley. He was too confused, too…something.

The door slammed shut behind him.

****

Staring at the large wood door, Shelley stood by the fireplace unmoving, sniffing away tears as she contemplated the symbolism of that slamming door. It stood solid and unmoving between them, like the chasm of hurt and betrayal she was darned certain would never go away.

It was all her fault. All of it.

She had caused the pain for Matt and everyone else she loved when she stupidly made the one decision that would haunt her for the rest of her life

Possibly, that one decision was going to take away one of the best things that could have happened to her.

Matt.

It was over. No hopes and dreams here, so she might as well get used to it.

With a cleansing exhale, she played a lazy gaze over the room, landing on each carving Matt had done, taking in the loving care he put into each detail. She perused the rough-hewn beams, and her search lingered on the precise layering of chinks between the cedar logs. Closing her eyes, she imagined Matt up here working on this cabin in his spare time—nights, weekends, any time he could muster. That was the way he was.

Determined. Goal-oriented.

Again, she sniffled, but even with her eyes closed, she couldn’t stop the tears.

She’d screwed up.

But the past was the past. She had to move forward and let Matt go. And if he knew what was good for him, he needed to let her go, too.

She opened her eyes. Yes. That was exactly what had to happen.

Turning, she glimpsed at her clothes scattered near the hearth and prayed they were dry. As she reached for them, her gaze landed on the plush rug, the coffee table pushed askew, the indentation where they had lain in the night—all evidence of their lovemaking.

A pang settled in her tummy.

She dismissed it. Another memory. It meant nothing.

“Liar,”

she whispered, swiping away a lingering tear.

“It means everything.”

But she would not dwell on it. There was no hope. She wasn’t worthy of Matt. He was a good guy and he was confused as much as she, and she wanted the best for him.

That wouldn’t happen with her. She was not the best thing for him.

Snatching up her clothes, she tossed the afghan aside.

“Get dressed and be ready to leave as soon as he gets back.”

That was her only defense. Get the hell out. Yes, Matt nailed her with that earlier. She was good at leaving.

So be it.