Page 68 of Sometimes You Stay

“I’m serious.”

She smiled and squeezed his arm. But whatever she wanted to say was stuck behind the lump that settled in her throat. Even a single syllable would likely set loose a river of tears from her burning eyes.

Stupid eyes. Stupid tears.

The onslaught of emotion made zero sense. Finn was saying such nice things. She should just smile and say, “Thank you.”

But she couldn’t get the words out. And she sure couldn’t let his words in.

“Lucretia Martin.” He laid heavily on the longein her last name. “I’ve never met anyone like you. And I...” As hestepped closer, his scent swept around her, all fresh grass and sunshine, things she’d only recently realized were among her favorites. “What am I going to do with you?”

Keep me?

Nope. That wasn’t an option, so with a bat of her eyelashes, she whispered the next best option. “Kiss me?”

He took her invitation, swooping in and claiming her. Any hint of the nerves he’d owned during their first kiss had vanished, replaced by an undeniable hunger for more. More of her. More ofthem.

Wrapping her arms about his waist, she jerked him closer. He stumbled a half step into her, his surprised chuckle muted but joyful.

What was she going to do with him?

Finn didn’t have a clue what he was going to do with her.

Something deep in his gut cheered on the idea of more kissing. No problem there.Thathe could do. So long as she was on his island, in his barn.

But the after snuck in too. What would he do after she left? After there was no more of them?

Yeah, he was well aware that he was setting himself up for all sorts of heartache. But he’d rather have the memories than the regrets. And he’d keep telling himself that as long as she was in his arms.

Warm and responsive, her lips were smoother than silk and tasted of maple syrup, almost as sweet as the woman herself. Everything he’d said about her was true. Even if the look in her eyes had hinted that she doubted him.

He knew the truth. She wasn’t just beautiful—thoughshe’d certainly been fearfully and wonderfully made, according to the verse his parents had helped him memorize during his Sunday school years. She was creative and funny and independent and generous and stubborn. Traits he’d newly realized he’d always wanted in a partner.

Combing his fingers through her impossibly silky hair, he sighed into her. When he brushed his thumb across her cheekbone, she trembled, her hands grasping first at his shirt, then at his biceps. His skin felt too hot and too small, like the feeling growing inside him needed more space. It was too big to contain.

Not that he wanted to contain it. There wasn’t a box big enough or a dam thick enough to keep it in check.

When she hung on his shoulders, a strange sense of pride raced through him. She trusted him enough to lean on him, and he wouldn’t risk letting her down.

Or hurting her.

When he wrapped an arm around her waist, he squeezed just hard enough to elicit a giggle, and she pulled back, a bright smile on her face. Pressing his nose to her temple, he sighed. “I like you, Cretia. More than I’ve liked anyone I’ve ever met. But I don’t want—”

“I know,” she whispered into his shoulder, her breath warm through his T-shirt. “This can’t end well.”

“It could.” He nearly bit his tongue off as her entire body stiffened, though she didn’t pull away. He had no business saying such things again, and he waited for a long explanation of why he was a fool for even suggesting she stay.

She said only, “No.”

Squeezing his eyes closed, he took one more deep breath, memorizing the floral scent of her shampoo. Then, hands ather waist, he pushed her away and took a step back. “I like you too much to make it harder than it has to be.”

Something like pain flashed in her eyes, but she blinked it away before he could put a true name to it. She didn’t ask him to explain. Instead, she pressed her lips together—lips he could have kissed again if he wasn’t such an idiot—and nodded. “You’re probably right.”

No. He was absolutely right. He was also an absolute fool.

That memories-versus-regrets theory had been downright stupid. Because now he fully knew what he was going to miss. For the rest of his life.

And he knew that would come with more than his share of regret. The memories wouldn’t warm him from the inside out on cold winter nights. He couldn’t hold the memories in his arms, smell their hair, and care for them for a lifetime.

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