Page 61 of The Hang Up
He smiled, and Miriam knew she was a goner. “Henry adores you. I know he’d love to have you join us.”
She bit her lip. “I’m not one for climbing mountains.”
“We’re not climbing the mountain, just hiking near it. It’s very safe, I promise. Especially this time of year.”
“Well—”
“Please,” Jason said, stroking the back of her hand. “Henry would love to spend another day with you.” He caught her by the waist, kissing her again before she had a chance to protest. “I’dlove to spend another day with you.”
The words made a warm puddle of emotion in her belly. Not just the fact that Jason wanted to see her, but that Henry did, too. That this family had started to carve out a little place for her, a small warm spot where she felt like she belonged.
She hadn’t realized until just now how much she’d missed that. How much she’d longed for it since her father’s death and her mother’s choice to move to the other side of the country to escape the memories of her failed marriage.
“Okay,” Miriam said, drawing back from the kiss a little breathless. “I’ll give it a shot.”
With those words, she knew she was agreeing to more than a hike.
CHAPTER12
Jason stepped over the fallen log, then stopped to hold back a low-hanging branch on a ponderosa pine. He watched Miriam coming up the trail toward him, her hair laced with pine needles, the small day pack she wore thrusting her breasts forward beneath a snug lavender T-shirt.
God, he wanted her. How was that possible? Last night should have left him sated and exhausted, but it only made him want her more.
“Thank you.” Miriam smiled up at him as she ushered Henry in front of her beneath the branch Jason held. She took hold of the little boy’s hand and helped him up onto the log. Then she let go, ducking beneath the branch and bringing herself face-to-face with Jason.
He leaned close, breathing in the flowery scent of her shampoo and savoring the tickle of her curls against his chin. She’d gone home to feed Phuzeei and shower before their hike, and part of him longed to get her dirty all over again.
“Do I get a kiss for saving you from this attack branch?” he asked.
She laughed.“I already gave you a kiss for the piggyback ride across the creek,” she said as she leaned up to kiss him again anyway. “And one for lending me these hiking boots. And one for brunch.”
“I think Uncle Jason likes your kisses,” Henry piped. He jumped down on the other side of the log and landed with his feet planted in a bed of soft earth and crushed pine needles. The boy scrambled forward, then stopped to pick up a pinecone that he promptly hurled at a nearby boulder.
“Uncle Jasondefinitelylikes your kisses,” Jason murmured as he offered Miriam a hand down.
She accepted, even though it was clear she was steady enough on her feet that she didn’t need his help. It felt good to hold her hand, so he didn’t let go as they started walking again. The trail was wide enough here for them to walk side by side, which felt nice after an hour of single-file trekking. Jason breathed in the earthy scent of moss and fern, marveling at the monstrous pines surrounding them. It was beautiful here. The air was misty and cool, a drug that left him invigorated. Or maybe that was just Miriam. It felt good to have her shoulder brushing his arm as they made their way beneath the canopy of thick trees.
“Thanks again for joining us,” he told her. “Henry’s having a blast.”
“Blast!” Henry shouted, stooping to pick up a stick. He held it like a gun, stopping to fire at a tree before tucking his makeshift pistol in the back of his pants and racing forward.
“Stay close, buddy,” Jason called. “We don’t want you getting too far ahead.”
“I won’t!” he shouted as he tore off down the trail, jumping up to smack a low-hanging branch as he ran.
Jason watched his nephew go, the boy’s bright blue windbreaker flapping like a flag on the trail up ahead. Part of him wanted to yell for Henry to slow down, to watch out for tree stumps and boulders and mosquitoes and anything else that might cause harm.
But part of him was just glad to see the kid enjoying himself. The doctor had said again at the last appointment that physical activity was okay, even encouraged at this stage. They were trying to rebuild his strength, to get him back to the energy levels of a normal five-year-old boy. A scraped knee was a small price to pay for that, and infinitely better than seeing Henry hooked up to needles and tubes in a hospital bed.
“We can’t hover over him 24-7,” Ellie told him last week when Jason balked at the idea of bringing in the nurse babysitter for an hour so they could slip out and watch a band they’d both loved in high school. “He doesn’t have the PICC line anymore, and even the doctor thinks it’s a good idea.”
But Jason worried too much, so he’d sent Ellie alone to the concert while he stayed home watching over Henry as the little boy slept.
Hell, maybe Ellie was right. Maybe he was being too much of a helicopter uncle. Maybe Henry needed a little independence.
Up ahead, the youngster was skipping down the wide pathway, stopping every now and then to pick up a rock or a leaf and stuff it in his pocket.
“The trail is pretty clear for the next mile, and there aren’t any drop-offs or anything,” Jason mumbled, mostly to himself. “He can’t really get into much trouble up there.”
