Page 66 of Summer People
I clutch the front of his shirt, needing to keep him close. And when he tries to pull back again, I bite down on his lip.
“Please,” I beg, the word a shattered piece of me.
He cups my cheek, and I turn my head into his hand, kissing his palm. “Please, Fisher.”
“For you, the answer is always yes.”
Chin lifted, I drink him in, getting lost in the dark pools he’s got fixed on me. “You don’t even know what I want.”
His lips twitch, and then his smile unfurls. “Doesn’t matter. The answer is always going to be yes.”
An easiness rolls through me, allowing me to relax against him, tempering every worry I’ve had for the last year. Letting go of all my reservations, I choose to trust in this moment. In this man I’m beginning to think might understand me better than I understand myself. The man who knows what I need before I need it. I’ve been running for so long, holding everything in, hiding behind the walls I’ve erected to protect myself. And here Fisher is, showing up, day after day, tearing them down.
“Okay,” I whisper.
Fisher arches a questioning brow. “Okay?”
“Okay, I’ll come home with you.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
fisher
“Get your shit.”
The tight fist that’s been locked around my heart since Sutton and I walked into the house to find Libby gone has finally released. She’ll come home with me, and she’ll be safe.
She purses her lips like she’s going to argue, but before she can, I angle in for a kiss again. I don’t want to fight. I’d much rather she melt into me and let me make her feel good. The desire to claim her, to hear her cry my name as I sink inside her, is out of control. But she needs to be ready. She still hesitates when I touch her, so she’s not there yet. But with any luck, she will be. I need her to want me with the same desperation that I crave her.
The moment I run my tongue along the seam of her lips, she parts and lets me in. Her mouth is warm and willing, causing my quick distraction to turn into something more. Unable to resist, I pull her in until the swell of her breast is pressed against my chest. I live in this moment, where Libby feels like mine, tuning everything else out. The sigh that slips out of her mouth settles deep in my bones. Damn, I could kiss this woman from now until the end of time. When I pull back and see the desire swimmingin her endless blue eyes, I almost give in, but then I remember Sutton.
Home alone.
And someone is trying to hurt Libby.
“Get. Your. Shit,” I repeat. “Get everything you’ll need to stay.”
She blinks at me, still stunned. “For how long?”
Foreveris on the tip of my tongue, but I catch myself before I scare her. “Until we figure out who is fucking with you.”
Uncertainty flashes in her eyes, like maybe she would have preferred if I’d said forever. But without a word, she nods and rushes to her room.
While I wait, I peer out the window, checking the area around the houses. It looks like it’s just us. Bing is still splayed out on my front porch where I left him when I stormed over, and the camera will notify me of motion. But until both girls are under my roof, I won’t feel settled.
I’ll have to explain Libby’s continued presence to Sutton, but I don’t know how to do that, because I want Libby in my bed tonight. With me. For reasons that I can’t admit to my eight-year-old.
The last thing I wanted was to leave Libby this morning. Waking up with her in my arms was like waking up from a dream, only to find I’m now living it. The way her body curled into mine, my arm wrapped around her, my palm flat on her soft skin, was addicting. However, when Wilder called at six thirty, I knew there was an issue.
His winter lobstering days make him anearly bird gets the wormkind of guy, but he knows I’m rarely up before seven.
So the second his name flashed on my phone’s screen, my heart took off and fear swamped me. Sutton was my first thought, though the news that Libby’s brake lines were cut wasn’t a whole lot less stressful.
And knowing someone is trying to hurt her, not just scare her, makes me desperate to keep both my girls close.
So after a quick trip to question Ryder about the golf cart, I picked up Sutton from Mrs. K’s house. On the way back, I told her about the accident—though I may have played it down to keep from worrying her—so she’d understand why Libby was at our house again.
I rub my hand over my face and squeeze my eyes shut to block out the memory of the moment I discovered Libby was once again gone.
