Page 21 of Hearts Don't Lie
“Come in, Mac,” he said, unzipping the flap. His forward movement did nothing to quell his raging erection, a recurring condition he had dealt with since they had struck camp, made only worse after he connected with those brown eyes that had haunted him. Her high, tight ass and shapely legs—quads, hams, and calves—had kept him in some state of attention throughout most of the day. When not focusing on his footing, he enjoyed watching her toned muscles gliding over each other while they covered the challenging terrain. Even her arms and back were sculpted. She was obviously fit—a vision of lean, honed strength.
“Um, hi.” She scuttled into the tent in her fleece and sat facing him, her eyes skipping around his tent before flitting to his, then away, before finally landing on his lantern and staying put. Mac turned hers off and placed it next to her knee as she sat back on her heels. She rubbed her hands and began awkwardly. “I realize I haven’t talked all that much today. Of course, it was a tough climb. And I was dismissive yesterday. Uh, okay, maybe rude. It’s just, well, you, showing up after all this time. I—”
“Hey.” He waved his hand between their faces, then dropped it into his lap.
Her eyes flew to his and rounded.
“I’m right here,” he said quietly. “Not where the lantern is. But I get your reaction.”
She squeezed her eyes shut, bowed her head and raised one hand, palm facing him. “Give me a minute.”
Hardin watched Mac struggle for control, mesmerized by the long wavy hair cascading over her face and shoulders, blocking his ability to gauge what she was feeling—this girl, now a woman, who had always been an open book with him. He had spent a lot of time caressing those silky tresses, and his fingers moved from the memory of gently loosening the curls when they’d become tangled.
She inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly, then sat in silence.
While he waited, Hardin concentrated on breathing normally and slowing his tattletale heart, which was beating furiously with rioting emotions. Fear mixed with anger at her not speaking to him the majority of the day. A kick-in-the-gut desire so powerful that it was all he could do not to act on it. To touch her. But he wouldn’t. He was the one who had shown up without notice, turning her seemingly bucolic life topsy-turvy. Was there anything left to salvage between them?God, I hope so.Coming to Colorado was my only option. Patience,he told himself.
Finally, she spoke. “Why are you here? What do you want?” She kept her head down, her words snapping and snarling, buffeting the inside of his small tent. “I’m beyond pissed at you! I’m so fucking pissed off, I can’t even look at you! Goddammit, Hardin! Why did you show up after all these years?” Mac’s eyes locked on him and her voice was harsh. “I feel… I feel…” The first tears plopped onto the hand gripping her thigh. “…unmoored,” she cried. Her shoulders slumped forward and began shaking, and she sniffled as she wept.
“Mac,” he said quietly. He felt a tear break free, and then more followed in an unbroken stream. Hardin clenched his jaw as he rubbed at his eyes with the heels of his hands. “I’m here because I want you. Period. It’s always been you.”
“Too much time has passed,” she said tonelessly, avoiding looking at him. “Too much has happened.”
“I’m praying that isn’t the case. I’ve never stopped loving you.” He reached toward her cautiously with one hand, touching her.
At first she resisted but then softened, allowing him to pull her into the circle of his arm. Hardin dropped his face into the crook of her shoulder, inhaling the scent that was forged in his soul, welcoming the comforting feel of her body up against his.
“I’ve missed you so fucking bad,” he whispered into her ear, his tears mixing with hers, his other arm reaching around to encircle Mac and hold her close. “Give us a second chance.”
Mac’s arms slid around his waist and she burrowed deeper. Eventually her weeping stopped, as did his. She’d cried herself out and fallen asleep. Hardin laid her down carefully and stretched out next to her, covering them with his camping blankets. Her warmth and his tears had made him drowsy. He smoothed back the hair that had tumbled over her face, kissed her forehead, and was asleep in minutes.
Hardin’s cold backside stirred him awake hours later. He had shifted onto his side while he slept, spooning her from behind. Mac slept like the dead. She was toasty warm, nestled within his body heat, his sleeping bag, and the blankets she had stolen while sleeping. He moved carefully so as not to wake her, positioning part of his sleeping bag behind him and adjusting the blankets over himself while keeping her covered. Hardin propped his chin in his hand and watched her, illuminated by the softly glowing lantern.
If possible, she was more alluring at twenty-eight than she’d been at sixteen. The round youthfulness she had carried in her face was gone. Not surprisingly, Mac wore no makeup. She hadn’t been a fan of it in high school. Neither had Hardin.
Her lips were still full, and the few times she smiled during the day—at other hikers, not him—they had spread generously over her straight white teeth. God. How they used to kiss. The hunger. The tenderness. Hours and weeks and months of kissing, which eventually led to exploring each other’s bodies and learning what they liked. He had loved nothing more than to please her, and when they had given each other their virginity, well hell… He had no words for the first moments of moving inside her. Of being fully, completely hers. And her belonging fully to him.
Her thick auburn lashes had been replaced by much darker ones. Faint circles under her eyes indicated she wasn’t getting the sleep she needed. A faint scar was evident under her left eye. The faintest crow’s-feet extended from the corners of her eyes, and she sported a frown line between her eyes, yet her dimples were deeper than ever and laugh lines were evident outside them. The character lines only enhanced her natural beauty.I hope you’ve had a happy life, Mac.
As if she’d heard his thought, Mac’s eyes blinked open and met his. “Hey,” she said, smiling slowly, cautiously. “Why are you staring at me?”
“I’ve been watching you sleep, blanket hog.” He smiled back. “You’re even more beautiful than you were in high school.”
Her smile vanished and the tenuous intimacy broke. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep in here. I… I came to talk. To get something off my chest.” She reached for her lantern, then started to rise.
“Wait.”
She stopped and adjusted her fleece top. “What?”
“There’s too much left unsaid. I have more to say. And I have questions. I wasn’t trying to find you because I enjoy a grand treasure hunt. I didn’t spend years and hundreds of thousands of dollars without intent. Losing you, losing us, broke my fucking heart, Mac.”Goddammit.He swatted at the tears that leaked from his eyes, then sat up, crossed his legs, and reached for his fleece. “Please stay,” he said huskily. “Please.” He pinned her with what he hoped was an earnest look. “Can we talk? Please?”
Hardin recognized Mac’s subtle shifting to giving him her full attention, to fully listening to him, the way no one had in a very long time. In high school she had recognizedhim—the insecure teenage boy who feared buckling under the weight of his parents’, coaches’, and the community’s expectations. She had easily seen beneath his mask of bravado and cockiness, encouraging him to trust her in a way that defied his parents’ and others’ understanding. She had saved him. Loved him fiercely for who he was, and he’d loved her back just as fiercely, without reservation.
“Okay. You first, then me. Agreed?” she asked, tilting her head.
“Even if it takes until the sun comes up.”
One corner of her mouth drew up in a quirk, accompanied by a dimple. “Yes. Lucky for you that I make kick-ass camp coffee. It’ll light you up.”
