Page 63 of Forgiving Her First Love

She hugged around his waist and leaned into him, allowing the simple embrace to heal some of her old wounds because there had been no winning for her, either. Even if he had taken her away with him, at some point there would have been a reckoning. She had been too immature for a serious relationship then. Her behavior after his rejection proved it.

She couldn’t regret their lovemaking, though. Not when his body still made hers sing this way simply by standing against hers.

Closing her eyes, she savored the feel of him, familiar, yet new. They’d both changed, maturing physically as well as emotionally. His chest was broader and more muscled, his arms heavier on her shoulders, his presence that much more imposing and confident. His scent was deeply familiar, carrying those odd vestiges from the marina office and the purity of coastal rainforest and him. That boy who was now that man.

Her fingertips found the indent of his spine in his lower back. She tilted her face up so her chin was on his chest, caught in the murky choice between being smart and taking advantage of the opportunity before her.

“Those eyes of yours,” he said with a vexed pull of his brows. “I never needed you to look after me. Do you realize that?” He cupped her face while he seemed to take great care to memorize every aspect of her features.

“You always seemed lost,” she whispered. “You still do.”

He didn’t seem to know what to say to that. His gaze tangled with hers and her hands flattened to climb behind his shoulders. He dipped his chin and his mouth touched hers.

He hesitated.

She went up on her toes, increasing the pressure.

With a rumble in his chest, his hand slid to cup the base of her skull and he slowly dragged her into a deep, thorough kiss, one that lavished attention from one corner of her mouth to the other, plundering even as he worshiped.

Here was the razor’s edge between living for today and repenting tomorrow. He was leaving and she was anchored here forever, but in this second her skin was electric and her body swamped by sensations. Heat engulfed her. The velvet brush of his tongue against hers was an erotic tease. The lazy roam of his wide hand down her back unfurled her sensuality as easily as sliding open a zip.

The sting in her nipples had her pressing tighter to him. The hardness of his thighs brought her own up to crook against it.

Dizzy, she drew on his bottom lip, enjoying the groan she pulled out of him right before his hands hardened and he dragged his head up. He caught her ponytail in his fist. His heart was thumping hard enough for her to feel it against her breast, but maybe that was her own. Neither of them was drawing a steady breath.

“Soph.”

“You have an empty house,” she reminded him.

“Believe me, I know,” he said grittily. “I’m still kicking myself for not doing terrible, illegal things to you last night.” He released her hair and cupped the side of her neck, thumb caressing the hollow beneath her ear. “But this is where you drive me nuts. You act tough enough to make me believe it, but now I know how easy it is to hurt you and I won’t do that again.”

She pulled away. “I’m not eighteen anymore.”

“It wasn’t being young that made it easy for me to hurt you, Soph.”

She bit back a gasp, surprised how deeply that struck.

“We can hurt each other,” he said with a squeeze of her shoulder, as if that was some kind of consolation. “I don’t want us to do that again. So I’m going to go put another coat of paint on the office. Tomorrow, I’ll just be putting my desk together so unless you get a call-out, you don’t have to come in.”

“Sure. Thanks.” She crossed her arms. “Good night.”

He hovered an extra few seconds before he exhaled and walked away.

Chapter Fourteen

“Mom!” Biyen knew the rule she had set from the first time they’d come to visit Raven’s Cove. No standing on the seabus unless it was tied up and you were ready to get off. He was barely keeping his butt on the seat, though, as he waved hard enough, he ought to be steering it off course.

“Did I leave my sunglasses at your place last night?” Logan asked as he came to stand beside her on the wharf. He was squinting at the water. “I just looked through the office and couldn’t find them.”

Her heart took a lift and a dip and a swerve. Was she mad that he’d shut her down last night? Not exactly. Embarrassed? Enough that she hadn’t gone upstairs when she had been called out to fix a bent rudder, staying in the machine shop.

“They’re by the sink. I meant to grab them when I left this morning. I was in the garden, then I got talking to Gramps and forgot.”

She had almost called Logan to take the call out. Gramps had been complaining of a headache when he got up. He hadn’t been coughing or running a fever, just moving slow and looking pale. She’d offered to stay home when the phone rang, but he’d brushed her off.

“I’m going to nap in my chair. Call me when Biyen gets in. I’ll come truck him home,” he had said.

“I’d call Gramps to bring them, but I just called to remind him Biyen’s on his way. There was no answer, so he must have left already.”

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