Page 12 of Love Me Fearless

It’s not hard to read between the lines. “PTSD.”

Hutch squints up at the sky. “He’s talking about leaving. Maybe put his psych degree to use somehow.”

“I’m glad he has you as a friend. That sounds really tough.”

“It’s just hard to believe. One minute we’re jumping out of the back of a cargo plane, having the time of our lives, and now he’s likely grounded for good. All that training. All those hours. He’s the toughest guy I know. How could this happen?”

“It’s not about how tough you are,” I say.

He sighs heavily. “I don’t like that.”

I smile in the darkness. “It’s hard to feel like we’re not in control, but it’s the truth.”

He gives me a playful glare. “Stop with the wisdom, okay?”

I laugh. “I’m right, though. All we can do is try to live in the moment.”

The look in his eyes softens. “Like this one. Being here with you.”

A charged tension spirals up my chest. I try to fight it, because I know what it is—and it can’t happen.

I rock to my feet. “Let’s call it a night, shall we?”

He reaches for my hand, and I take it, his big paw dwarfing mine. But instead of letting me help him up, he resists, jerking my frame.

“I’ve got a better idea,” he says.

I stand there fighting the prickles erupting in my chest and the heat coiling tight in my belly.

“Hutch.” It comes out tense with yearning, and I’m sure he hears it, too.

He rolls to his feet, never letting go of my hand. We face each other in the darkness, his eyes locked on mine.

He gently cradles my face, his touch making my pulse tap into my throat. “Tell me to stop if you don’t want this, Greely.”

A tremor rattles through me, the kind that will only be satisfied in one way. I don’t trust myself to speak, so I close my eyes and kiss him.

Maybe I’m tired of fighting this inexplicable energy that’s danced around us all weekend. Or maybe it’s how vulnerable he seems in this moment, and this kiss is his reward.

But when our lips touch, I lose track of the thoughts running rampant in my mind. An electric charge fires through me. Like every cell in my body is jumping up and down. His lips are surprisingly tender, the kiss slow and sensual. He lingers for an instant, his lips embracing mine, like he’s letting himself get a little bit lost. The idea that I could be the one to make him surrender—me, the girl on the sidelines—makes my belly warm.

I kiss him back, the heat inside me rising, buzzing. He flicks his tongue, and I sigh in delight. The hollow between my thighs gives a needy pulse. Will I later look back on it as my final warning? Maybe, but right now, I don’t care.

His tongue flicks past my lips and his fingers plunge deeper into my hair, like he plans to keep me here. I press my palms to his chest because I’m not about to let him have what he wants so easily.

A flicker of a smile plays across his face, his gaze turning playful, like he expects nothing less of me.

He kisses me again, groaning as our tongues play a sensual game of chase.

“I knew I’d love kissing you,” he says, resting his forehead against mine. “But there’s something else I know I’m going to love, and we can’t do it here.”

Butterflies erupt in my stomach, eating up the empty spaces inside my chest. “Then you better do something about it,” I say, sliding my hand to his lower back to steady myself, but it onlyeliminates the sliver of distance between us, and with it, the last of my apprehensions.

Because he feels good this close to me. Our bodies fit together in a way that sends a thrill over my skin and makes my heart tap harder against my ribs.

With a sly grin, Hutch takes my hand and leads me down the dock.

I should use the time to reclaim my senses. We could laugh off those kisses as a silly impulse or a reaction to all the love in the air tonight. I’m likely not the only one who’s heard the muffled cries of pleasure coming from the other cabins.

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