Page 24 of Unleash You

I barely caught her words. “I think you know. I think you’ve always known.”

Her chest moved up and down with every breath. In that dress, I was treated to a view of how her perfect mounds pinched together with the effort. “Don’t.” She ran a hand through her blond hair.

The legs of the piano bench screeched across the marble floors as she pushed it away from her. With a quick sidestep, she went around me and headed for the door. I spun around and blocked her with my arm. My hand landed above her belly button over a patch of skin that the low-cut neckline didn’t cover. Her warmth seeped through my fingers. As if I were the Big Bad Wolf, she stood still even when my thumb slid farther up. In my mind’s eye, my mouth was already on her smooth cleavage, tasting her with every bite.

“Don’t what? Tell you the truth?” I took in her flowery scent, drawing a circle right over her ribcage. “Tell you I’ve been dying to kiss you since you stumbled into my office?”

She shook her head, and I buried my nose in her silky hair. She smelled of lavender and lemons. Jesus, how did I manage to stay away from her for so long? I’d spent the last three weeks on the edge, knowing that if we were ever this close again, I wouldn’t be able to hide my feelings for her.

Gripping her waist, I pulled her toward me. She turned around, and I cupped her face, pressing my forehead against hers. Her small sigh made the pressure in my chest turn to wildfire. I slipped my fingers into her hair and captured her mouth with mine. When she parted for me, I thrust my tongue past her teeth. I needed to taste her, show her how much I wanted her.

“You are so beautiful,” I murmured in between kisses. “After all these years, I can’t believe you’re finally in my arms.”

She tunneled her fingers through my hair and let her head fall back, as I planted wet kisses down her neck. Her breath came out in puffs next to my ears. “Wesley.” She exhaled. “Stop.” She wedged her fisted hand between us and pushed me away.

I squeezed my eyes shut. When she tugged again, I released her and took a long stride back. “I’m sorry.”

“Say it.” She gritted her teeth.

“What?” A buzz still swirled like smoke in my head from the rush of adrenaline and desire that swept through me. What did she want from me? I would give her anything she asked for right now.

“I want to hear the truth. Say the words.”

I swallowed, looking upward. “I wrote the letters.”

7

Just My Luck

Anabelle

“Is this a joke?” I placed two fingers over my lips. Wesley’s searing kiss was more intense than I would have guessed. My heart pounded hard, and all I wanted to do was throw myself at him. “Did you think it would be funny to write to Sweet Ana? Why did you do it? To make fun?”

Of all the times I fantasized about Wesley, his hands, his lips, I never once considered that his kiss would come with a side of humiliation. Tears stung my eyes. I blinked fast to make them go away. I didn’t want him to see me cry.

“Anabelle. Please don’t look at it that way.” He stepped closer.

His smell made my knees weak. “How am I supposed to see it? Why did you do it? How?”

He let out a breath, his gaze surveyed my face in some kind of supplication. “I was with Charlie when your first letter arrived. He...” He cleared his throat. “Charlie was in pretty bad shape after you left.”

The year I’d left had been a tough one for all of us. After losing Mom and Dad, nothing made sense to me. All I knew was that I still had my brother Charlie. When I tried to console him, he’d yelled and said things that haunted me for months. He called me a killer and a brat. As far as he was concerned, I had died in the accident too. My broken leg took only six weeks to heal, but my heart took longer...about three years’ worth of letters.

“I remember. You were also there when I left.”

He nodded, and his eyes watered. “Not much changed for him after that. He barely made it through college. Honestly, he didn’t find himself until he joined the corps. I stood by and watched as he ripped every piece of paper with your writing on it.”

I must have written over a hundred letters to him. He destroyed every one? “What made you write back?”

“After we finished college, Zack left for South Africa. Charlie only had time for training and being the best marine. I don’t know—I suppose I needed a friend. I could see you needed one too.”

I hugged myself, suddenly feeling naked, exposed, embarrassed. I swallowed the lump in my throat and wiped my cheek. “I told you so many things that were private. You had no right.”

“I know. I obviously didn’t think it through. I told myself I was doing it for you, but the truth was, I was selfish. I tried to stop, but your letters kept coming. After we got deployed, I couldn’t stay away.”

My first year in college, after I asked Charlie to come see me, he stopped writing to me. Or rather, Wesley did. Back then, I had assumed Charlie was too busy or maybe feeling too guilty for a face-to-face reunion. How was I supposed to know Wesley was behind it all?

“You asked how I did it? Dad came by Fox’s Bank every week and collected your mail, then sent it to me. Charlie had already ordered your old housekeeper to burn them anyway.”

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