Page 77 of Love and Pancakes (Rockland Falls 1)

“Of course.” I pull her to me, lining up her body in front of me. Her back is pressed to my front, and believe it or not, I’m not thinking about all the ways I can make her scream my name. Okay, fine. I’m a dude. I’m still thinking about all the wonderful ways I could make her moan, but I’m mostly thinking about how special it is that she brought me to one of her favorite places.

We stand there, my body supporting the weight of hers, as she leans back against me, both of us gazing at the waterfall. No words are spoken, but they’re not needed. I can see why she loves this place so much. The falling water is almost soothing, and I’m damn lucky to have this opportunity with her.

Something about the ambiance makes you sit back and reflect on your life. Mine may not be exactly what I expected it to be, but I’m not complaining. I have a job I’m damn good at and a karate studio that’s thriving. My friends are loyal and just a call away if I need them, and I’m never lacking for female companionship when I want it.

My chest tightens and so do my hands as I think about the past, present, and future. My past isn’t horrible, but it’s filled with a few bumps in the road. The biggest bump is the reason I don’t do relationships anymore. She fucked me over – and fucked one of my roommates – and pretty much sealed the coffin on the idea of ever having a relationship again.

Until now.

The present.

The woman in my arms who makes me laugh and want to be a better man. Me. The man who has spent the better part of a decade screwing his way through more zip codes than he cares to admit. Light, carefree, and easy. That’s what I’ve always wanted. But here I am, actually considering having something more with Marissa.

Except, I can’t.

I’m leaving in nine days. A week from this Sunday, I’ll be pulling up anchor, never to return to this sleepy little bed and breakfast town. I’ll never again lay eyes on this site, or any of the others I’ve come to enjoy around Rockland Falls. But worse, I’ll never see Marissa again either.

And that thought pains me.

“What do you think?” she asks, glancing over her shoulder, a small smile playing on her lips. Totally kissable lips, that is.

“I think I want to kiss you,” I answer, pushing all other thoughts out of my head.

She doesn’t say anything, just turns in my arms and wraps hers around my waist. “Then, I think you should definitely kiss me.”

“I should,” I reply, slowly dipping my head toward hers. I love this moment – this time right before I kiss her – where her breath catches and her eyelids get all droopy. I take a mental photograph of how she looks right now, wrapped in my arms with the raging waters falling behind her. It’s this exact image I’ll carry with me when I return home to Jupiter Bay.

Then my lips taste hers. I keep the kiss leisurely, knowing that if I deepen it too much, I’m liable to take her up against one of the boulders. She doesn’t seem to mind, though. Marissa wraps her arms around my neck and threads her fingers into my hair. Her tongue is sweet against mine, a slow and deliberate dance. It’s crazy to think it, but it’s perfect.

She’s perfect.

When I pull back, her eyes are glassy and her lips swollen. Personally, it’s one of my favorite looks on her, especially knowing I put it there. “Come on,” I say, grabbing her hand with mine and leading her to one of the big boulders. She yelps when I grab her by the waist and lift her onto the rock. Then, I hoist myself up and sit behind her, my legs framing hers.

I sit back, my arms poised back and supporting my weight. Marissa sits on the edge of the rock, her feet dangling and swinging as she watches the water. And I watch her. Someday, some bastard is going to hit the fucking jackpot with her. My gut clenches and nausea stirs when I think about it, but I already know I’m not that man. And I’m man enough to want her happy and loved, even if that man isn’t me.

She glances back over her shoulder again, a beautiful smile on her lips, and I feel it. Somewhere near my heart, right there in the middle of my chest, I feel the armor I’ve had in place for a decade start to crack. She chips away at every layer of protection I’ve ever had in place, and she does it with a simple smile. A gorgeous, never to be forgotten, smile.

“You okay?” she asks, a look of concern on her face.

I clear my throat, but my words still come out hoarse. “Yeah, I’m good.” I sit up and wrap my arms around her waist, pulling her back against my chest. “Thank you for bringing me here.”

“You’re welcome,” she says, relaxing in my arms and making my heart pound hard against my chest.

We sit like that, talking for hours. It isn’t until the sun drops behind the trees and the singing birds start to quiet for the evening that I realize how late it is. We actually just sat there for over two hours and talked. About everything. Our childhoods, lives outside of the job, families. We covered college and even exes. I even told her more about Suzanne, and I never talk about that shit. But do you know what happened while I was talking about it? While her soft green eyes gazed up at me with so much sadness and outrage for my pain? I felt it start to slip away. The pain I had been holding on to. The grudge too. It all just…fell away, leaving me with a woman in my arms who I could seriously see myself falling in love with. Maybe even spending the rest of my life with.

But can’t.

---