Seaside Kisses: A Sweet Romance (The Seaside Hunters Book 4) (9 page)

She glanced back over at him. His arm hung off the edge of the couch and his mouth gaped just slightly. She sighed, enjoying the sight.

Amara dozed off. She woke when her head jerked toward her chest. Her eyelids were heavy, fighting to close again, but she didn't know how long she'd slept, and she needed to check Rafael.

It took her eyes a minute to focus, and then she realized that Rafael had some goop coming from one eye. She got up and wrung out the washcloth, dabbing it gently on his face, not wanting to wake him. But it wasn't enough to clean up the mucus, so she pressed harder.

He made a little noise, but didn't wake. Once she'd gotten it, she went into the kitchen and rinsed out the cloth. Then she kneeled in front of the couch and watched him breathe. She studied the skin around his eyes. The swelling had gone down, and the redness had turned into a light pink—probably only noticeable because she was looking for it.

She was glad she'd stayed, otherwise she would have worried all night since he refused to see a doctor. Not that she could blame him. There were a hundred other things she could think of that she'd rather do than visit a doctor's office.

Rafael stirred. Amara watched, listening for his breathing. He sounded good and looked fine—not that he could look bad. He rolled onto his back and let out a little snore. Her heart fluttered. Rafael managed to make even that adorable.

Amara couldn't help herself. She ran her finger along his face, starting near his eyes and moving down his jawline where stubble had formed. His arm moved, and he took her hand, holding it.

Amara's heart skipped a beat. Their hands rested on his chest, moving up and down rhythmically with each of his breaths. She could feel his heartbeat.
Thump, thump, thump.
She enjoyed the feel of her hand in his, against his chest.

She studied his face again. This time, however, it had nothing to do with his health. She felt confident that he had already made his recovery from the allergy attack. No, she just enjoyed looking at him. He was beautiful—partly the boy she had sat next to, afraid to talk to, as she grew up, partly a grown man, full of mystery. There was so much she didn't know about him, and really wanted to uncover…

He was kind enough to take care of someone's cat after having his place broken into. Despite his thoughtful behavior, he sported signs of stress on his face—furrowed brow, worry lines. She couldn't help wondering what had caused his distress. And then she remembered Sophia. Of course. How could she be so stupid? Rafael had lost his only sister to cancer.

Amara frowned. She couldn't imagine what it would be like to lose Alex—especially so young. Sophia had only been about twenty. Really, still a child in so many ways. Though she knew enough about the youngest Hunter to know she'd made good use of her short years, always happy and bringing others joy, as well.

Amara had gone to the funeral. She hadn't been to many, but she'd never seen one like Sophia's. It was packed—standing room only for those arriving late. The minister had had to ask people to stop sharing about her after calling forward anyone who wanted to speak. He encouraged everyone to share stories afterward, at the meal.

Rafael squeezed her hand, bringing her back to the present. Oh, how she wanted to lean her head against the couch and sleep next to him. She'd always wanted to be close to him, and this last week had been full of close encounters of the Rafael kind.

"Have you ever known my feelings for you?" she whispered, barely audible. She knew the answer. Of course he didn't, she'd done nothing but hide from him when they grew up.

The only indication was his accidental kiss—the one he'd apologized for. She frowned. But could it be possible that he hadn't just gotten caught up in the moment, but could actually have feelings for her? Was it possible now that they were older, and she wasn't the school nerd anymore? He was the only guy in town who even seemed to notice she had changed, and that was because he'd been away for so many years.

She ran a finger along his jawline. "Are you awake?" she whispered.

He didn't budge.

Amara moved closer to his ear, her pulse racing. She whispered again, this time in his ear. "Give Amara a chance. She has always adored you."

Rafael's hand tightened around hers, but he didn't move otherwise. Amara moved closer to his face and brushed her lips across his. They were just as soft as before. She sat back, afraid he'd wake up.

Nine

Rafael woke up on his couch, confused. What was he doing there? The TV's screensaver was on. Had he fallen asleep watching something? He sat up and saw a washcloth in a bowl of water on the coffee table… and then he saw Amara curled up on the recliner with a blanket.

The cat… and his allergic reaction. His face had swollen so badly he barely recognized himself. Amara had probably thought he looked like a sideshow from the circus, but yet she'd stayed to take care of him. She'd insisted, in fact.

His lips twitched, nearly forming a smile. It was nice to have someone take care of him again. That hadn't happened since… when? Since he'd been home and his mom had cared for him when he was sick? She'd always forced him to stay in bed, but she made her special soup every time.

There wasn't any soup, but Rafael felt cared for by Amara.

He got up and tip-toed past her, not wanting to disturb her. Who knew how little sleep she'd gotten? He went into the bathroom through his room and studied his face. He looked as though nothing had happened. He moved his sleeve up and checked the scratch on his arm. Even that looked a lot better—just a little red line.

Rafael's skin itched. What was going on? Another reaction? He stepped back, tripping over something. His pants and coat, which were probably full of cat fur. The edges of his eyes itched just looking at them. He needed to get them out of the room without going into another full-blown allergy attack.

He went into his room and saw a plastic bag from the dry cleaners. That would do. He slid it off the jacket and went into the bathroom, managing to get the cat-covered clothes inside without touching them. He tied the open ends and then dropped them downstairs. Later, he would decide whether to have them cleaned or just dispose of them.

Rafael went back over to Amara and checked on her. The blanket was about to fall off, so he pulled it up and tucked it under her chin. He stared at her beautiful face, partially covered by her dark hair, and wondered why she had cared so much to stay with him. Or help him with his egged windows at the store, for that matter.

Even after forcing himself on her, she still wanted to stay and take care of him. His heart warmed. Maybe he hadn't ruined his chances with her after all. But even so, was it worth the risk? He certainly didn't want to wind up hurt again, like he had with Kristine. And yet at the same time, he didn't want hurt Amara, either.

His hand brushed against her cheek as he pulled away from the blanket. He flinched, surprised at how much he enjoyed her touch—much in the same way he had when she'd shown him how to clean a window. It was no wonder he'd kissed her without thinking about it.

Rafael had the sudden urge to sweep away some of her hair and give her another kiss. He froze. No. If she woke up with his lips on hers again, he really would scare her off.

She had the face of an angel as she slept. He fought the urge to press his lips against hers. As sweet as she was, he needed to do some real soul searching before he even considered making any moves toward building a relationship again.

After the way his last relationship had ended, he wasn't sure he would ever been ready to try that again. Also, Amara was too… too what? Innocent? Kind? Sweet? All of the above?

He was no womanizer, but he'd had his share of relationships over the years, and all they had accomplished was to harden him. Amara wasn't a harsh woman of the world like he'd grown accustomed to. Staying in Kittle Falls all these years, she'd managed to hold onto something special.

Clearly, she was no longer Four-Eyes Fowler, the shy, pimple-faced girl always hiding behind a book. She'd grown into a beautiful woman, both inside and out. If he started a relationship with her—if she'd even go for that—he would likely ruin her. Rafael would bring in all of his heartbreaking experiences from LA and thrust them upon her.

She didn't deserve that. What Amara deserved was a nice guy who could give her the white picket fence and two-point-five kids every sweet girl from Kittle Falls dreamed about. Rafael wanted neither an ugly white fence nor children.

Besides, she deserved better than to be his rebound. It had only been a few months since everything imploded on him in the southern part of the state. He needed to ignore the growing feelings he had for her.

Amara stirred again, and Rafael jumped back. He needed to go to another room before he gave into his desire to kiss her. He adjusted the blanket around her feet and then went back to his bathroom. After being around the clothes from the previous night, he'd be wise to shower again.

He had a lot to do today, and even more now that he had to deal with his garage door and getting a new cell phone. Why hadn't he bothered to have a landline set up? Now he couldn't even call his dad to talk about the door, or call his insurance company to see if they would cover it. There was probably a waiting period, and he certainly wouldn't have met it, but he had to at least try. With all his business expenses, he didn't have the money for any extras.

Rafael found his laptop and emailed Zachary and Cruz, both of whom still lived at home. He asked them to tell their dad he'd stop by to talk with him soon.

Zachary, who was probably writing his story, responded right away, saying he would, and asked if everything was okay. Not wanting to get into it, Rafael said yes, that he'd just broken his phone. No need for anyone to worry about the break-in or his new cat allergy.

After showering and wearing fresh clothes, he felt as good as new. Checking in the mirror again, he couldn't see any signs of last night's reaction. He was back to normal, except for the confusion toward the beautiful woman asleep in his living room. He shaved, and then felt good to go.

He stepped into the hall, and his mouth watered before he registered the delicious smells of bacon and coffee.

Rafael went to the kitchen to see Amara standing over the stove, flipping a slice of bacon. She was even wearing his favorite apron—and she rocked it much more than him.

His heart leaped into his throat. No woman had ever worn one of his aprons before, and he couldn't get over how much he liked it on her.

He cleared his throat.

Amara looked over and smiled. "I hope you don't mind, I decided to make some breakfast. I heard the shower, and thought you might be hungry."

"I am." But it wasn't only for breakfast. He glanced down at her curves, but then forced his gaze up to her face. He couldn't allow himself to think of her like that.

"Want me to make some orange juice?" he asked.

"
Make
some?" she asked, her eyes wide.

"Of course. You don't think I'd buy the store bought stuff, do you?" He realized how stuck-up that sounded, so he smiled, hoping that would make it seem less obnoxious than it had come out.

"I don't suppose I would. Do you like your bacon crispy?"

"However you like it." Rafael pulled his gaze from her and went to the hanging basket with the oranges. He rinsed, peeled, and then stuck them in his juicer. He added just a dab of organic sugar, and before long, had a full pitcher of freshly squeezed orange juice.

He turned around and found his table set for two. She'd made bacon, eggs, and pancakes. Two steaming cups of coffee sat next to each plate. Amara was something else.

"That looks delicious," he said.

She beamed. "But not as good as the juice. I can't wait to try it."

Rafael couldn't help smiling. He poured two glasses and then carried them along with the pitcher to the table. The food was as good as it looked, but he couldn't take his attention off Amara. She was beautiful, caring, talented, and sweet. Essentially, everything he'd ever wanted in a woman, but had given up hope that someone like that existed in his generation. Yet there she was—in his kitchen, wearing his favorite apron.

But he wouldn't allow himself to get too close. It was for her own good—he didn't deserve someone like her.

She rose, smiling. "I'll clean this up. I'm sure you have a lot to do. Then I'll get out of your hair."

Rafael looked into her eyes—he didn't dare look anywhere else. "I can't thank you enough for everything. You've truly gone above and beyond the duty of a neighbor."

Something flashed across her face—disappointment?—but then she smiled. "Anything for an old friend."

He flinched, feeling like he'd been jabbed. Was he reacting to
old
or
friend
?

Rafael smiled back at her. "Well, if you ever need anything, don't hesitate to ask. I'll help you clean."

"Nonsense. It'll only take a few minutes. Don't you have to call your insurance?"

Rafael frowned. "It'll have to be later. I broke my phone last night."

"It was really a bad night for you."

Not that bad
. He shrugged. "It's just my will being tested before I open my store. What doesn't kill me will only make me stronger."