The Harbor of His Arms. Lynn Bulock

      “Better melted ice cream than unwanted visitors.” Alex put down his pile of bags on the kitchen table. “I shut the trunk, too. It’s more work, I know, when we’ve got another load of groceries to bring up here. But you have to stop announcing to the world what you’re doing, Holly.”

      She looked at him from her place sorting canned goods from the sacks. “I know all that, Alex, really I do. But can’t you realize what this does to my life?”

      Her violet eyes held traces of harried fear. The expression made Alex want to put an arm around her, find a way to drive away the concern that wrinkled her smooth skin. “I know we weren’t really any safer before you came to town. But I could fool myself into thinking we were. That all the ugliness had been left in the big city along with the constant memories of Kevin’s death. That maybe, just maybe, I could raise my kids in a normal environment where I wouldn’t have to fear for their safety, and my own, every waking moment.”

      It was the sadness in her voice that finally pushed him to action. Alex crossed the small kitchen and put his arms around her, knowing she’d fight the embrace but needing to offer it anyway.

      “I’ll do anything I can to make it better,” he told her, meaning every word of it as he wrapped his arms around her thin shoulders. Surprisingly she didn’t struggle, but leaned against him. The action caused a thrill of shock to course through him, compounded by the myriad thoughts that crowded his brain at the same time. What made her smell so good—mildly floral with a hint of some kind of spice? Who knew that her dark hair would be so soft, with her head fitting so well under his chin as he pulled her closer?

      Merely offering comfort to another human being had never caused feelings like this in him. For once Holly was accepting his help, and it was nearly killing him to give it to her. He wanted to pull back as if he’d touched hot metal instead of the pliant woman who nearly melted in his arms.

      “You mean well,” she murmured. “And I want to believe you, really I do. It would be so easy if I could believe you. But I know I can’t. What I need is some kind of superhero, Alex, and as nice a guy as you are, you’re no hero.”

      For her he wanted to be one. But Holly’s warm body this close to his was causing some very un-heroic feelings to assault him. Even as Alex used one finger to tilt her chin up so that their gazes met, he knew he was proving her right. He was no hero if he wanted this badly to comfort them both with a kiss. Still, she didn’t fight him, didn’t protest at all as he drew ever closer. When their lips met, the actual contact was soft and incredibly sweet. It was all he could do to stay standing upright, not crush Holly between himself and the kitchen cabinets in a much more fervent embrace.