Page 44 of When I Fall In Love

“Horseshit? That’s quite brutal.” He drops his forehead to mine, a hand on my hip. “But yeah, it probably is.”

“You feel so good,” I murmur, my whole body reacting to having him like this as I press into him, my hands finally where they want to be, on the smooth skin of his neck, curling into his hair. “It’s been too long.”

“You’re really cute when you’re drunk.”

“I am?”

“Yep. Also really… verbal.”

“Yeah, enough with the talking.” I trace my nose along his, breathing him in. He smells so good, just like he did way back when. I push up, my breasts flush against his chest, and press my lips against his. With a deep moan that vibrates under my thumbs, he answers the kiss, soft and somewhat reverent as he cups my head in his hand.

God, it’s just a taster of what I want. I need so much more, but he pulls away.

“You taste like Nutcracker,” I say, refusing to let go.

“And you taste like Sugar Plum Fairy.”

I smile and he drops his head back to mine, and this time he kisses me, lips open, tongue teasing until I need to catch my breath, my heartbeats pulsing full of life, my nerves zapping desire deep between my thighs.

“Hmm.” Hunter’s hand slips away from where it trailed up my back, first to my hip, and then both hands reach for my own to stop me, right there, where my thumbs brush his neck and jaw. His skin is warm under my touch, and here outside—why are we still standing outside?—I’m getting cold.

“You’re cold,” he whispers and pulls back, breaking our close connection.

No, I’m hot and bothered. “Come inside.”

“I can’t.” Hunter steps away from me, letting go of my hands, leaving me floundering. “Not only are you tipsy but… I’m not up for a one-night stand, Bee.” He pushes the front door wider and nudges me into the cottage. “You need to go to bed. Alone. Sleep tight.”

With a click the door is closed and I’m standing in the bright light of the mudroom. In seconds his truck starts and revs off. I listen to it rumble all the way as he drives up my driveway and back down his own.

Yards. Mere yards separate us.

Hunter won’t give me what I want, and I can’t give him what he wants. It’s a chasm between us, neither of us caving in and crossing to the other’s side.

Yet.

21

HUNTER

“You look like shit.” Raiden doesn’t beat around the bush as he sits down next to me at the corner table overlooking the low bustle that’s Ashleigh Lake’s main thoroughfare on Friday morning.

“Sleepless nights,” I mutter, taking a sip of my coffee. At least I don’t look like horseshit, but that depends on who you’re asking.

“Hmm, sleepless nights for all the wrong reasons by the sound of that,” Raiden quips as he takes a bite of the pumpkin pie I ordered for him.

I could stab him in the arm with my cake fork because I know—hell, anybody who listens in would know—that Raiden is referring to sleepless nights due to sex. I’d be blind and stupid to think that speculation about me and Beth isn’t running rife in town. As soon as I set foot in the Pie Chart this morning, eyes were on me. I come for coffee and pie here often enough—it’s my go-to coffee shop in Ashleigh Lake—but after those stares, I don’t feel like showing my face anywhere.

“Anything happen last night between you two?”

And there’s the reason why I feel like skipping town. Being the center of attention isn’t my thing and being gossiped about is like having nails scraping over the blackboard of my soul.

“What should have happened?”

Raiden shrugs. “You know… Beth was getting quite handsy there at one point.”

“Yeah, and thanks for watching, and calling everybody out to the porch, and fucking cheering.”

“You’re welcome,” Raiden says, laughter thick in his voice. “Your turn’s your turn.”

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