Karissa saw almost nothing of Marsh that week. Not that she was surprised, considering the fact that he had basketball tryouts. She told herself she didn’t care but was glad to see him when he joined Hank for evening chores Friday night, even though they barely had a chance to exchange greetings before she headed to work. She was glad her mom would have Paul ready for Dennis to pick up when he arrived.
When she looked at Marsh, she wondered if she had imagined the moment they’d shared while selecting a kitchen faucet. He had seemed distant since then, and she wasn’t sure if it was because he realized he might have given her the wrong impression, or if the standoffishness was all in her head. She was surprised to find herself attracted to him and enjoying their time together. She’d even wondered for a moment if he had considered kissing her. Worse, in that instant, she wasn’t sure she would have been upset if he’d done it. But it would have been a huge mistake.
It wasn’t like she was interested in a relationship, even if he was more gorgeous than she had remembered, and his muscles did bulge nicely when he tossed hay bales around with Hank as if they weighed mere ounces. She hadn’t allowed herself to pay attention to his physique, though, because she wasn’t interested.
The ski resort further up the mountain had gotten snow two nights before, but the farm had only received rain. Karissa didn’t know if that was better or not, considering the wet, muddy ruts left behind by the storm.
It had been another weekend without Paul, despite Karissa having allowed Paul to go to Dennis’s wedding the weekend before. It was good she worked every night, as sleep didn’t come easily for her when he was away. She checked her watch obsessively, knowing Dennis should return Paul soon. She was anxious to see her son again. Dennis always accused her of being overprotective, but Karissa didn’t care. She worried when her son was out of her sight for too long.
Dennis showed up as they were all sitting down to Sunday dinner. Marsh sat beside Karissa when Paul tore into the house, bee-lining for the dining room. “I’m home!” He wrapped his arms around Karissa and she pulled him close, thrilled to see him.
“Hey, baby, did you have fun?” Karissa checked him quickly for bruises or any sign that the weekend had been less than jolly—not that she ever found any—and was relieved to see nothing but pure happiness on his face.
“So much fun! And I felt my baby move in Sheryl’s tummy. It was cool.” He peeled away and hugged Marsh, moving around the table.
Karissa felt the knife-point of pain in her chest. She reminded herself that they were talking about Paul’s half-sister and he should be excited about her birth, but it didn’t make it any easier to hear about it. She’d wanted another child so much, but Dennis had put her off, saying they couldn’t afford it or that the time wasn’t right. Now she didn’t know if she’d ever get another chance at a second child of her own.
Not that she had any right to complain when she had a kid as bright and joyful as Paul.
“I caught you at dinnertime.” Dennis showed up in the doorway to the dining room. No one seemed to have noticed his footsteps in the hall. His eyes drifted around the table, pausing on Marsh, then landing on Karissa. “Do you have a moment to talk?” he asked her, his jaw tight with irritation or anger.
“Sure.” Karissa braced herself for whatever he found wrong this time. He’d never been big on talk. She pushed her chair away from the table, pausing in surprise when Marsh touched her arm and gave it a friendly squeeze before letting her go.
She had expected to speak with him in the entryway, but Dennis led her out onto the porch and shut the door for privacy. Karissa glanced across the yard and saw Sheryl sitting in the front seat of the car. She couldn’t blame him for not wanting to make the long drive alone, but it still hurt to see her replacement sitting there so comfortably where Karissa had always belonged.
She turned resolutely back to Dennis, determined to forget Sheryl. “What is it?”
“You really need to be more careful about what you expose Paul to. He was sick and puking all night Friday. You didn’t even warn us that he wasn’t feeling well.” Dennis’s brows lowered over his eyes, his face turning hard.
“He was sick, and you didn’t call me?” Karissa felt her heart rate pick up. Had they taken proper care of him? He’d seemed okay.
“Why should I? You want to hear about him puking all over the bed sheets? And it’s not like we can’t handle it, but you shouldn’t send him to us if he’s sick. Sheryl is in a delicate condition, and there’s going to be a baby soon. We can’t expose her to Paul’s germs if you aren’t going to take proper care of him.”
Karissa narrowed her eyes at Dennis. “He’s a kid who goes to kindergarten. He’s going to be exposed to germs; it’s the way life works. He was perfectly fine when he left here, as far as I know. He spent the hour before you arrived helping the guys feed the cows and horses.”
“Yeah, with Hank and that Marshmallow guy.” Dennis’s expression turned hard. “What is he always doing here, anyway? Is he your new boyfriend? Couldn’t wait to start dating again, could you? I know he drove you and Paul to Pueblo last weekend.”
Hypocrite. Karissa pressed her lips together to hold in any words that might want to escape while she mentally counted to ten. “So says the man who married his pregnant girlfriend days after the divorce finalized.”
His face flushed, but he pressed on, not willing to accept blame for anything. “I have a right to know what you’re exposing my son to.”
“I’m exposing him to his family, love, exciting opportunities to learn about animals, the value of hard work, and the chance to get to know his grandparents better. And if I choose to date again, it’s none of your business.” She grabbed the door handle and twisted, storming inside.
“Karissa, I’m not done talking to you.”
Karissa called back over her shoulder, “Too bad. I’m done talking to you.” She stopped short when Marsh blocked the entrance to the dining room.
“What’s going on?” Marsh asked.
“Don’t get any ideas,” she hissed in a low voice for his ears only, then reached up, grabbed the back of his neck, and kissed him, knowing Dennis was watching.
It was petty and juvenile and ridiculous, but she only had half a second to remind herself of that fact before Marsh’s big hands slid onto her waist and then around to her back, pulling her closer. His lips softened under hers and he tipped his head, changing the angle of the kiss and deepening it. She swayed into him, forgetting everything but the feel of his mouth on hers.
Karissa felt her stomach flutter even as energy raced through her veins. What was going on?
The front door slammed shut and Marsh’s hands returned to her hips, sending little jolts of lightning through her system.
There was the sound of a throat clearing, and Karissa realized what she was doing. Abruptly, she pulled back from the embrace, giving Marsh a little nudge away from her. She sucked in a breath, feeling her head whirling a little from her anger. It had to be anger that disoriented her like that; it certainly couldn’t be his touch.
“That didn’t mean anything,” she said, and pushed past him into the dining room where her dad watched with amusement on his face. “I was just mad at Dennis.”
“Remind me to thank him sometime.” Marsh seemed totally unfazed as he took his seat at the table again.
Karissa wanted to scream, so she snatched up the nearly empty gravy boat. “This needs to be refilled.” She escaped into the kitchen.
When she was alone, she set down the crockery, planted both hands on the counter, and hung her head. Stupid. That was such a stupid move. Her heart still raced from the kiss, and she didn’t know if it was because she was angry at her jerk of an ex or something more.
The thought that it could be something more, that her reaction could be primarily all about the kiss, and more, about kissing Marsh, made her uneasy. The last thing she needed was to start imagining things between the two of them that he didn’t return.
She focused on the task at hand. It didn’t mean anything. He had acted smug but unaffected by the kiss. She could do the same.
When her family looked at her speculatively upon her return to the dining room, she did her best to pretend it didn’t bother her. No big deal; she could totally handle this.
She snuck a glance at Marsh out of the corner of her eye and wondered how many times she would have to tell herself that before she would believe it again.
***
Marsh ran his basketball players through another set of drills, watching their moves and correcting them, but his mind was half on the kiss Karissa had laid on him several days earlier. She had tried to act as if nothing had happened when she finally emerged from the kitchen, but energy crackled between them almost as strong as when they had been locked together in that embrace. He did his best to go along with her wishes to not make too much of it but couldn’t ignore the way being near her—never mind the vivid memory of her lips on his—affected him.
In the past several days, though he’d managed to pop by to help with evening chores twice and join them for dinner, she practically ignored him. He was a little sick of getting the cold shoulder but couldn’t stand the thought of pushing her too fast and ruining his chances.
Especially not now that he knew what she felt like in his arms, with her lips molded to his.
He pushed that away and focused again on the boys, happy with the progress they were making and the fact that they were actually working together as a team. His assistant coach, Rex, pulled Chris aside and corrected his form, demonstrating the way it should be done. Chris nodded and headed back into the group doing layups. Marsh was happy with Rex as the assistant coach. He was dedicated to the boys, had a great relationship with them, and was very focused on getting the team to the state championship this year.
It didn’t take long before Marsh’s thoughts drifted to Karissa again. No question about it, he needed to do something about this stalemate so he could get his mind back on his responsibilities.
He was glad when Rex signaled that it was time for practice to end. The boys had worked hard; this season was practically in the bag.
He just had to figure out what he was going to do about one feisty redhead.