Page 56 of Sadie's Guarded Harbor

Tommy’s chest rose and fell in rapid succession as he tried to regulate his breathing. Sweat coated his hairline. Sadie lay tucked against his side with his arm draped over her bare shoulder. He caressed her silky skin. Desire stirred in the pit of his stomach despite spending the last couple hours in her bed, moving in rhythm with her and fulfilling a deep need in his soul he never knew he had.

Sadie roamed the tip of her stubby nail through the mat of hair on his chest. Her warm breath skimmed his skin.

He pressed his lips into the tangle of chestnut waves matted against the side of her face. “You’re magnificent.”

She giggled and turned onto her side, propping her chin on her hand. “We’re not going to get any sleep tonight.”

He cringed. “I don’t even want to look at the clock. But no matter how tired I am in the morning, this was totally worth it.”

She grinned down at him. “You better say that.” Her smile fell, and she traced her slender finger along the jagged scar on his cheekbone.

He stilled, waiting for the questions he knew would come. The scar was a constant reminder of his painful past. But for thefirst time, he wanted to tell a woman about everything that had haunted him for so many years. If he wanted a real relationship with Sadie, he had to lay all his cards on the table.

Moonlight spilled in through the parted curtains and cast a glow on her creamy skin. Her freckles stood out, and he touched them with his index finger. “I love your freckles. Have I told you that?”

Shaking her head, she remained silent with her gaze locked on him.

Words lodged in his throat. She was waiting for him to open up—wanting him to be the one to make the choice to confide in her. The need to confess, to tell her everything, electrified his nerve endings. But it was so damn hard.

“You don’t have to tell me. It’s okay.” The smoothness of her voice calmed him.

He shivered out a breath. “I want to. I just don’t talk about it very often.”

“Take your time. I’m not going anywhere.”

He shifted to stare at the ceiling. His pulse raced as memories flooded him. “I’ve only ever had one serious girlfriend. Her name was Vanessa. We went to school together and started dating freshman year. Right before my mom died.” Recollections tightened his esophagus, making the last words come out in a higher pitch than normal.

The motion of her hand on his face stopped.

“She was my best friend. Helped me through the loss of my mom the way no one else could.” Pressure built in his chest, and he squeezed the bridge of nose to keep his emotions from boiling over. He’d talked about this a hundred times, but it never got easier. Whoever said time healed all wounds was full of shit.

“It must have been nice to have someone like her around to help.” Sadie hiked up her knee and nestled it on top of his thigh.

The feel of her body spurred him on, comforted him. “After Mom died, Vanessa and I were always together. She made me laugh, showed me joy, taught me that even amidst pain and heartache there could be happiness.” He let his eyelids drift closed. He could see Vanessa’s long black hair swirling around slim shoulders. Dazzling blue eyes sparked with mischief and a wide smile that always knocked him on his ass.

Sadie settled back onto her back and rested her head on his shoulder. “What happened?”

The image of Vanessa vanished, and a picture of twisted metal and busted glass swept in to take her place. His eyes flew open, unable to keep the scene in his head. “We went to the movies one night. She had just gotten her license. Her parents didn’t want her driving in the dark, but I convinced them it’d be fine. The theater was only a couple miles from her house, and I’d be with her. What could go wrong?”

Her body tightened and she gripped his hand, as if bracing for the impact of his admission.

He clung to her like a lifeline. His throat was raw, his eyes burned, and his gut twisted into a million knots. But he needed to get it out—all of it. “On the way home, the roads were dark and a little slippery. Vanessa pulled up to a four-way stop. I saw the headlights coming toward us and told her to wait. She laughed, saying the truck would stop. Then it slammed into us.” Tears sprang to his eyes, but he didn’t bother to dash them away.

A beat of silence hung over them before Sadie whispered, “It wasn’t your fault.”

He shoved his free hand through his hair and gripped the finger-length strands trapped against the mattress. “My head knows that. But the way her parents looked at me. Like if I hadn’t talked them into letting us go to the movies, Vanessa would still be here…that look has haunted me every day. Because even though it wasn’t my fault a drunk driver ran through a stopsign and hit us, I was the reason we were there. I was the reason we were in the car on the road that night.” The pressure in his chest threatened to explode, and his sinus cavity throbbed. Tears flowed freely down his cheeks, but he couldn’t care less.

“I’m sorry you lost her, and I’m sorry you were hurt. Is that what the scars are from? The car accident?”

He nodded. “I was banged up pretty bad. Nothing I couldn’t bounce back from. All the bones healed, the gashes long gone. But the scar stayed and reminds me every day of the part I played in losing the first girl I’ve ever loved. After losing her…losing my mom…it was too hard to put my heart out there again. I couldn’t handle anyone else being ripped away.”

She squeezed his hand, and her breath tickled his collarbone. “I could lay here and tell you that feeling guilty about something you couldn’t control is useless. But that’d make me a hypocrite. I get it. I understand carrying a burden you shouldn’t bear on your shoulders because knowing it’s there gives you this weird, sick sense of peace. Like if you feel the guilt every day, you’re keeping them alive.”

Propping herself back on her elbow she glanced down at him with the most tender look he’d ever seen. She released her grip on his hand and traced the pad of her thumb over the scar that told a story so much deeper than the ugly line on his face. “But we’ve been doing it wrong. Carrying around shame and guilt over the loss of these people doesn’t do anything but bring us down. Getting lost in the sadness of your past makes it impossible to keep the positive memories of a girl you loved so much alive. Just like the blame I heap on myself stops me from living the life I truly want.”

He closed his hand over hers and brought it to his lips. Her words rang so damn true, but he didn’t know if he could let go of the way he’d lived—the way he viewed his past—for so long. Hewanted to, God he wanted to more than anything. “Thank you for that. But now I think it’s time we both get some sleep.”

Leaning forward she pressed her lips to his then snuggled against him. “Thank you for telling me.”

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