Page 80 of One Billion Reasons

“Me, too. I thought I would hate it, but this is nice. Thank you.” I squeeze her hand.

“Would your mom come back?”

“I’m not sure.” I blow a breath. “After my dad’s death, she was a shell of a person. For a long time. It might be too difficult for her. And I’m scared to push her.”

We reach the backyard of the house, where there’s a massive pool and a formal garden filled with little nooks and crannies and benches. Lane plops down on the swing my mother used to love.

“You should ask her.”

I sit next to her, and the seat creaks. “You can ask.” I grin over at her. “Since you’re coming to Thanksgiving.”

“Chivalrous.” She snorts. “But sure. I’m looking forward to it.”

And there it is. The reminder of what I stand to lose if I fail with Lane. And I can’t imagine not failing. But I want her, more than anything.

She’s oblivious to my inner turmoil, swinging gently on the bench. “One more swim? For old times’ sake?”

Her lips are curved up, but my chest is tight. One more swim. Because I won’t have this with her again.

We take the boardwalk over the dune grass, and then the five steps to the beach. The waves are quieter here than they are at the hotel, and the beach is wide. Sandy and perfect for laying out or throwing a football, like we used to. I follow Lane as she picks her way to the boulder we’ve sat on hundreds of times.

“Feels just like old times, right?” Her eyes are smiling up at me as she strips off her silver dress. As promised, she’s not wearing anything under it. She’s soft curves and smooth skin and god, I want to crush her against me and never let her go.

“This doesn’t feel like old times,” I say roughly. I trace the side of her soft breast with my finger, and her nipple pebbles. She sucks in a breath as I brush over the peak. “Except for that one time I saw you topless.”

“When was that?” Her voice is breathy as she watches me.

“The summer we were twenty-four. You were trying to get the perfect shot of the water. You were crouched down low, and a wave came up and slapped you in the face.”

She laughs. “Oh, I remember that. I had to get the sand out of my lens.”

“Well, what I remember is how you yelped and sprinted up the beach. You immediately stripped off your wet clothes, and I got just a peek at your body before you pulled on a sweatshirt.” I shudder. “I was a perv at twenty-four, Lane. I don’t know how you could stand me.”

“I liked you,” she says simply. “And I thought you were the hottest guy I’d ever seen. Still do.”

“Yeah?” My voice is gravelly with need as I methodically strip off my jacket, my tie, my shirt. Her eyes are hot with desire, roaming over me helplessly.

“Wow.” She blows out a shaky breath, and I start to harden against my leg. The way she looks at me makes my blood rush in my ears. “Definitely the hottest guy I’ve ever seen.” She winks and takes a step toward the water. “I want you. But you have to catch me first.”

36

Lane

I race toward the water, ignoring the sting of the pebbles under my feet. Miles’s harsh breaths are just steps behind me. I splash into the cold surf and dive under as soon as I can, cutting through the water. He’ll catch me. Any second now. He’s a strong swimmer, with those long arms and all that muscle. I want him to catch me. I want him more than anything.

A wave carries me up, but I don’t react in time. Shit. I’m not a strong swimmer, and I’m going to get pounded. I turn my head, looking for Miles. Where is he? Where is—

His arm is around my waist, and he pulls me upward with him, paddling hard over the top and through, instead of under. We’re past the break now, and I shake a little.

“You caught me.” I’m more relieved than I care to admit.

His arms are like steel bands and his breath is hot on my neck. “I will always catch you.” The words send a full-body shudder through me. I love that. I want to be found, want to belong to someone, more than anything. Belong to Miles. It feels right. And maybe if I belong to him, he’ll have fewer dark days. I want that. Tell him.

His hands are seeking, running over my waist, my breasts, my neck, until his hand is at my throat and he’s kissing my neck even as he holds me helpless against him. Sounds of approval fall from his lips as he tells me how beautiful I am, how much he wants me. It’s punctuated by the feel of him at my back. Warm, even in the cold water, his erection thick against my back. I arch into him, and he hisses a breath and tightens his hand around the base of my jaw.

“Yes,” I moan.

“You like that? What about it do you like? Is it the danger?”

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