Come Closer Page 7

  We hike the first couple miles in silence. We’re taking a different path than the one I’ve been on for hikes, and this one has lots of incline around the third mile.

  “Doing okay?” Daniel asks at the top of a steep climb, passing me a bottle of water.

  I nod and take several sips.

  “We’ve got some light climbing ahead, but I’ll help you if you need it.” He grins. “I can’t usually come to this campsite unless I’m alone, because most patients aren’t fit enough to hike to it.”

  All those spin classes I did back home were worth it. I’m not in the same shape I was when I got here, but I know I can handle this hike. Will I be sore tomorrow? Hell yes, but it’ll be worth it. I like knowing we’re going somewhere he usually only goes alone.

  Daniel finishes his water, crushes the bottle in his hand, and then packs his bottle and mine into his pack, and we start walking again.

  He wasn’t kidding about the climbing. We have to scale a small stretch of rock, and it’s all I can do to hold on. Daniel climbs up right behind me, somehow managing to stay on the rock even when I slip and he has to hold my weight, too.

  “Almost there,” he says, his breath hot against my neck. “There’s a tree trunk at the top, and once you get a good hold on it, I’ll boost you up over the edge.”

  I’m struggling for breath as I grab the trunk and try to haul myself up. I only make it a few inches and then I feel Daniel’s hand on my ass, pushing me up far enough that I can climb the rest of the way over.

  He pulls himself over next, and he’s grinning sheepishly as he takes in several deep breaths at the top.

  “Sorry,” he says. “I didn’t mean to . . . there was no other way I could get you over with this pack on my back.”

  I smile back and arch my brows, hoping he can tell that I didn’t mind his hand on my ass at all.

  He slides his pack off and sits down, patting the ground beside him. I sit down, and he gets out water and trail mix.

  “So I’ve got a question for you,” he says. “You don’t have to answer it unless you want to.”

  I nod, take off my baseball cap, and comb my hands through my hair, refastening it into a ponytail and putting the hat back on.

  “Are you physically able to talk?”

  Our eyes meet, and I see such genuine curiosity in his that I can’t not answer him. When I nod, he nods back.

  “That’s good. I figured as much, but I didn’t want to assume. Your vocal cords could have been damaged by . . .” He clears his throat and looks around. “It’s pretty up here, don’t you think? This is one of my favorite spots.”

  I look up at the branches of the tall trees creating a full canopy from the sun. It is beautiful. I feel like Daniel and I are the only two people in the world right now.

  “Alone with you for a night,” he says softly, then laughs. “I thought we’d have Morgan chattering in between us all night long in the tent.”

  The nervousness in his tone touches and excites me at the same time. He does feel something. Before I can overthink it, I reach for his hand and entwine our fingers. For an instant, he stiffens, but then his hand closes around mine and he brings my hand up to his lips. He brushes his lips over the back of my hand, the gentle scrape of his stubble making me tingle.

  “I wish we’d met at a different time and place,” he murmurs, closing his eyes.

  I wish I could tell him that we were meant to meet at this time. In this place. I needed Daniel when I got here, as much as I’ve ever needed anyone. He’s helped me more than I’ll ever be able to tell him.

  “We should get back to it,” he says, releasing my hand. “Before I do something really stupid.”

  He gets up and then offers me a hand. And when he helps me up, he pulls me closer to him. I like feeling the warmth of his body and seeing desire in his eyes when I look up at him. Desire for me.

  When he releases my hand and starts walking again, I know for sure he’s not seeing Sara or anyone else. There was such hunger in his expression that I can tell he hasn’t been with a woman in a long time. And God, how I’d love to end his dry spell.

  THE CAMPFIRE CRACKLES WITH SATISFACTION as I toss another log and some dried grass onto it. I sit down on a stump and hunch forward, elbows on my knees.

  I’m fucking exhausted. I haven’t stopped moving all day because being around Allison makes me feel like a stick of dynamite on the edge of exploding. After the hike to the campsite, I pitched the tent, made spears from sticks, went fishing, and chopped firewood.

  There’s a small shed nearby that’s full of fishing supplies. Rods and reels would have been a hell of a lot easier than whittling spears and using them was. So why did I do it?

  I want Allison. I want to take her into the tent, peel off her clothes, and fuck her slow and hard. I want the first sound I hear from her to be a moan of satisfaction she can’t hold back as I make her come. It’s one thing to want it inside the privacy of my own head, but it’s getting harder to hide it from her.

  All she did on the way to the campsite was reach for my hand, but that small gesture has me worked up for her. Does she want my comfort—or something more? I’d find it difficult to deny her anything she wanted from me.

  It was stupid of me to bring her out here by herself. I might as well have brought a bottle of Jack and told myself I wouldn’t open it.

  So I fished and chopped and wore my body down to a point of relaxation. And as soon as Allison walks out of the tent and smiles at me, my dick twitches in response. Damn. That part of me is definitely not exhausted.

  She picks up one of the spears I left leaning against a tree, running her fingertips over the smooth, pointed end. Watching her gives me a full-on erection.

  I look at the fire so I can get rid of my hard-on before I stand up to cook dinner. The woods are dimming as the sun sets, and it’ll be dark by the time the food is ready.

  Allison walks over just as I get up. She looks at ease out here, like she’s spent lots of time in the woods. I wish I could talk to her about that . . . and so many other things. It’s crazy that I feel so close to a woman who’s never said a single word to me.

  “You want to help with dinner?” I ask her.

  She nods and I unpack cooking supplies and food from my pack. Soon she’s peeling potatoes and I’m cleaning fish. The humming and singing of the forest make for tranquil background noise as we work.

  When it’s time to cook, she watches me, and I get the sense she hasn’t done much cooking before. I add oil to the skillet I brought and season the fish and potatoes before putting in the first batch.

  “There’s a cabin a few miles deeper into the woods,” I tell her. “Henry Hawthorne had it built so he’d have a place to stay when he went hunting. I found some journals and photos in a file cabinet at Hawthorne once about what an undertaking it was for the workers. Henry wouldn’t allow any clearing of the forest for it, so they had to carry everything ten miles into the woods.”

  There’s a sparkle of interest in her brown eyes when they meet mine.

  “Maybe we can camp there next time,” I say.

  She smiles, and it hits me just how much I like being the one to make her smile. I like it way more than I should, but too much to be sorry about.

  When the food is done cooking, I give her a sheepish smile. “I’m so used to camping by myself that I didn’t bring plates. I just eat out of the pan.” I hand her the fork I brought, and I use my big cooking spoon.

  We eat, and she nods enthusiastically when I ask if she likes it. By her expression, I think she really does. Whether it’s from the hunger of only eating trail mix and fruit until now, I don’t even care. I made her dinner and she likes it. It’s as close to a date as we’ll ever get.

  I cooked a shitload of food, and we finish almost all of it. Allison gets out her dry-erase board and writes out a message offering to go wash the dishes, but I tell her I’ll do it. I grab a bar of soap and wash myself off at the stream I rinse the dishes in
, conscious of smelling like sweat. I change into a clean shirt and head back to our campground, where Allison is sitting by the fire with a blanket around her shoulders.

  There’s a chill in the air tonight. I can think of a few great ways to stay warm. More than warm, actually. We’d both be hot and sweaty in no time.

  Allison looks up at me when I approach, and I wonder if my dirty thoughts about her are written on my face. She lifts an arm, opening the blanket to me.

  “You cold?” I ask her.

  She nods, and I forget my warring thoughts about what I should and shouldn’t do. I want to be close to her, and she wants it, too. Just this once, I want to give in to what feels good.

  I sit down next to her and take the blanket, wrapping it around both of us and pulling her against me with an arm around her shoulders. She snuggles into me and sighs softly.

  “You took off the hat,” I say, brushing my lips over the top of her head.

  Her hair is soft and it has a light, sweet scent. I’m breathing her in when she wraps her arms around my waist and holds on to me tightly.

  “You make it so easy to forget,” I murmur.

  She lifts her head from my chest and looks up at me, and I can read enough of her expression in the light of the fire to know she feels the same. I run a hand over her hair, then cup her cheek, which is tiny in my massive hand.

  “I forget what’s right.” I brush my thumb across her cheekbone. “I forget why I’m here.” I tighten the hold of my other arm around her. “I forget how I’ve failed in the past.” I close my eyes and sigh, resting my forehead against hers. “I forget that you’re fragile.”

  She moves then, and I open my eyes. Allison is climbing into my lap, straddling my waist. We’re chest to chest, her knees on either side of my thighs. I wrap my arms around her back, her soft body molding against mine. When she brushes a hand over my cheek and then around to the back of my neck, her eyes tell me she’s anything but fragile in this moment.

  I brush my mouth over hers in a gentle kiss, and she parts her lips, silently seeking more. Holding her close, I give it to her, kissing her deeper and harder. She shifts her hips just enough to make me groan from the friction of her rubbing against my erection.

  When I pull back, she rests her forehead against mine, her breath warm on my lips as she pants slightly.

  “It’s like getting drunk,” I murmur. “You give me the same fuzzy high I got from booze. I’ve never . . . fuck.”

  Desire swirls hot and thick between us, the cold night air forgotten. Allison has woken something inside of me that’s been asleep for a long time, and I don’t know if I have enough willpower to resist the pull I feel.

  A deep howling sound close by makes Allison turn, her body stiffening with worry.

  “It’s okay,” I say. “Nothing’s gonna bother us here.”

  She’s still staring into the dark woods, so I ease her off my lap and ask, “You want to go in the tent?”

  She turns her head quickly, meeting my gaze and nodding. The warm hope swirling in her brown eyes makes me groan again.

  “I can’t . . . I mean, we can’t . . .” I shake my head. “You’re my patient, Allison. I have to respect that boundary, no matter how much I want you.”

  She walks a few feet to get her dry-erase board, writing out a message and turning the board to face me.

  I’m not crazy.

  Her earnest expression tugs at me.

  “I know. I’ve never thought you were crazy. I think you’re experiencing post-traumatic stress disorder, which is completely understandable. Even if I weren’t your doctor, I just . . .” I sigh heavily. “But I am.”

  She nods and I see both understanding and disappointment in her eyes. When she turns and walks to the tent, I follow. She crawls inside, and I stick my head through the tent flaps.

  “Hey, it’s good to change clothes before bed. Clothes retain moisture even if you don’t feel it, and you’ll be warmer in dry clothes. You can change in there, and I’ll change out here.”

  As soon as I stand and walk over to my pack, I smile to myself as I realize I already changed when I was down by the stream. Allison has quite an effect on me.

  I give her more than enough time to change, because I’ve only got so much self-control, and seeing her partially undressed would unravel me. After a few minutes, I take two bottles of water, my shotgun, and some shells from my pack and climb into the tent.

  She’s lying on top of her sleeping bag, wearing black cotton pants and a long-sleeve gray T-shirt, her hair in a loose bun on top of her head.

  I pass her a bottle of water and unzip both sleeping bags.

  “We could, uh . . . both lie on one of these and cover up with the other one,” I suggest, saying the words before I have time to talk myself out of it. “If you want.”

  Her lips curve up in a smile, and she moves off her sleeping bag to help me rearrange them. A couple minutes later, we’re side by side in the darkness. It feels nice, just having her this close.

  Allison slides her head beneath my arm and snuggles against me. I wrap my arm around her back, trying to ignore how much I want more than this.

  “We’re fully clothed. There’s nothing wrong with this,” I say. “Leonard and I sleep like this when we camp, actually.”

  She laughs. It’s just a slight sound I’m sure she meant to hold back but couldn’t. Even though she didn’t talk, I got something. I can tell her voice is sweet and sexy just from that taste.

  “We spoon, actually,” I say. “Leonard in back, of course.”

  This time, she laughs against my shirt, the sound muffled. I smile in the darkness, still loving it.

  “Hey, if you need anything during the night, wake me up,” I say, brushing my lips across her forehead. “Don’t leave the tent without me for any reason. I’ve got my shotgun in here just in case, but I don’t think we’ll have any issues with animals.”

  She nods against me, running her palm over my chest through my T-shirt. I close my eyes, savoring the way this feels. We may never get another night like this—just the two of us, alone and away from Hawthorne. Tonight I broke the trust the Hawthorne administration puts in me by letting me take patients camping. My integrity has never been in question with them. But I can’t quite bring myself to be sorry right now.

  I’d stay awake all night if I could, but as soon as Allison’s breathing evens out, I pull the top sleeping bag around us and start drifting off myself.

  In another life, we could have more than this. We’d be so much more than this. I’d let myself free-fall for the dark-haired woman who mesmerizes me without saying a single word. I’d be her comfort, and she’d be my salvation.

  But this life is reality. I’m her doctor, and I suspect she won’t be at Hawthorne forever. Once she learns to cope with what happened to her sister, she’ll be able to start a new life somewhere else. Eventually, with someone else, I’m sure. She’s too incredible to be overlooked.

  This is the only time I’ve ever wished one of my patients wouldn’t make a full recovery as soon as they possibly could.

  THE SOUND OF MOVEMENT NEXT to me jolts me awake.

  “It’s okay,” Daniel says softly. “It’s just me.”

  I look around the tent, remember we’re camping, and let my head fall back to my sleeping bag. When I give him an apologetic look, Daniel looks sheepish.

  “It’s my fault for waking you up,” he says. “I was trying to sneak out so I could have breakfast ready when you woke up.”

  He’s leaning up on one elbow, and I pat his sleeping bag, encouraging him to stay in the tent a bit longer. He does one better, pulling me closer and wrapping his arms around me.

  I close my eyes, pressing my cheek to his chest. I was having a dream when I woke up, and it wasn’t the usual one with the strange man prodding me to tell him the details of that terrible night.

  This dream was about two dark-haired little girls playing beneath a tent they’d made from a bedsheet in their playr
oom. The smiles and laughter had felt so real—probably because they were real, many years ago. We’d been inseparable until I made a bad decision that drove a wedge between us. But even then, I’d never even imagined a world without my beautiful, vibrant twin in it.

  “You okay?” Daniel asks, his stubble tickling my temple as his lips brush across it.

  I nod against his chest, pushing the dream from my mind. The singing and croaking sounds from the woods are a beautiful wake-up call. I soak in my surroundings for a few seconds before sitting up.

  “I can’t remember the last time I slept so well,” Daniel says with a sleepy smile. “Did you sleep okay?”

  I nod, feeling wistful as I look at him. His dark hair is rumpled, and his expression has lazy Sunday morning written all over it. In another time and place, we’d spend the next few hours in bed. Or maybe the entire day, only leaving for the essentials.

  In a way, he’s all mine right now. But in the only way that truly matters, he never can be.

  “You’re beautiful,” he says, reaching for my hand. I smile as he entwines our fingers.

  “What do you want to do today? Just nod when I get to something that sounds good. We can go fly fishing, hiking, climbing, canoeing—”

  I nod and he gives me a sexy grin.

  “Canoeing, huh? Are you a strong swimmer?”

  I nod again.

  “You’ll have to wear a life jacket anyway. I’ve got some in the supply shed.”

  We leave the tent then, going to the very primitive outhouse not far from camp. It’s pretty much a deep hole in the ground with two walls, but it’s better than nothing.

  Daniel fixes more potatoes, this time, mixing in mushrooms and peppers he brought. It’s like an omelet without eggs, and it’s not bad. We roll up our sleeping bags and pack up the tent, and I realize we probably won’t get to come out here alone again. I wish we could, but I’m grateful we at least had one night alone. Now I know Daniel has feelings for me, even if he can’t act on them. He doesn’t see me as a crazy person. Even if everyone else at Hawthorne thinks I’m unbalanced, the one person who matters sees the real me.