“I’m gonna join Cub Scouts as soon as we move to Tahoe.”
On instinct Buzz offered his hand. “In that case, let me show you where the restroom is.”
Eddie took his hand. “They got a bathroom way out here?”
“Well, sort of. Just don’t do this when you’re at home, okay?”
Kelly woke to voices. Groggy and disoriented, she reached for Eddie. Her heart thumped hard when she found the sleeping bag next to her empty. She sat up quickly, her forehead grazing the top of the tent.
“Eddie?” she said in a sleep-clogged voice.
A familiar fear gripped her. Fighting her way out of the sleeping bag, she scrambled to the zippered entrance of the tent and into the soft light of dawn.
Her heart was still pounding furiously when she spotted Buzz and Eddie sitting near the fire twenty feet away. Both males were sitting on logs with their elbows on their knees and steaming cups in their hands. The same heart that had been pounding with fear a moment ago slowed to a soft, familiar ache.
Eddie was mimicking his father. If Buzz was aware of it, he made no indication. The sight of her son watching him with such adoration in his young eyes brought tears to her eyes. And a different kind of fear to her heart.
“Morning.”
She hadn’t realized Buzz had spotted her. She blinked, suddenly, painfully aware of his eyes skimming over her. Everything that had happened the night before, everything they had done played quickly through her mind. The heat of his hands roaming her body. The urgency of his mouth. The sensation of being filled by him, emotionally, physically. Whispered words that could never be taken back….
She prayed he didn’t notice the hot blush that crept into her cheeks. Abruptly, she was aware of how she must look. Her hair looked like a rat’s nest. Her shirt was wrinkled. She told herself it didn’t matter, but for several interminable seconds she wished she’d at least taken the time to finger-comb her hair.
“Mommy!”
Before she could say anything, Eddie jumped up from his place on the log and ran over to her, throwing his arms around her hips. “Buzz and I had candy bars for breakfast!”
“Oh, well…”
“Do you want one? He fixed me some hot chocolate, too. Do you want some?”
She hugged her son to her and tried desperately to find her voice, all the while feeling self-conscious because she knew Buzz was looking at her. “I think I might just have some coffee this morning, sweetheart.”
“Buzz! Fix her some coffee. She likes milk and sugar.”
Buzz smiled as he looked away. “Coming right up.”
Eddie turned back to her and looked proud for a moment. “Buzz and I had to whiz this morning.”
Whiz? It took her a moment to figure out what he was referring to, then it dawned on her. “Oh,” she muttered, realizing now that her little boy had learned the word whiz he was never going to use tinkle again. That was a female term, and evidently Eddie was hungry for the male stuff.
Despite everything that had happened—the mistake she’d made the night before, the danger of their situation, the pain in her heart, she laughed. God, she loved this child. Kneeling, she looked into his guileless gray eyes that were so much like Buzz’s, and thanked God he was safe and sound. Dirt smudged his left cheek. He had a scratch on his chin. There was a blade of buffalo grass in his hair, so she plucked it out.
“I love you, puppy face.” Pulling him close, she kissed him on the cheek.
“I’m not a puppy face.”
“Are, too.”
He giggled and wiped the wetness of her kiss from his cheek. “I love you, too, Mommy.”
She kissed the tip of his upturned nose, then hugged him to her, trying not to let the moment get too serious. She breathed in his scent, let it fill her and calm her and she knew that no matter what else happened, as long as she had her son everything would be okay.
“It’s black.”
She pulled away at the sound of Buzz’s voice and stood. She’d known she would eventually have to face him, have to face what they’d done the night before.
I love you.
She imagined the warmth of his breath against her ear as she stood and accepted the cup of coffee. Her stomach felt jittery. And when she looked into his slate-gray eyes she knew he was remembering, too, because for an instant he didn’t meet her gaze.
“Thank you.” She took the coffee and, because she desperately needed something to do, sipped even though it was much too hot.
He gazed back at her, steadier now but cautious. His walls were back up, she realized. High, thick impenetrable walls he used to keep her out of his head, out of his heart. He’d done it when they were married, kept her out as if she were a thief out to steal his emotions, and he was doing it now.
But last night…last night she’d seen those same walls obliterated.