Page 52 of Making New Plans

I chewed my lip as I stared out my window until the familiar welcome sign of Tangled River came into view. He pulled up to my house and put the car in park.

“Is Sarah home?” he asked as I unbuckled.

I froze, wondering if he wanted to know because he wanted to come in or because he wanted me to be safe. I chose to assume the latter.

“No, but I’ll be fine. Small towns and all.” I put my hand on the door handle. “Thank you. For the tickets. The concert was amazing.”

I’d already said that, hadn’t I? My throat tightened.

“You’re welcome.” His voice smoldered like the last embers of a wildfire.

I finally looked back at him then wished I hadn’t. The shadowy car interior gave him a secretive, yet alluring, look that held me captive. He was leaning on the center console, almost over my seat. I could still smell his shampoo, now mixed with heat. I closed my eyes and almost, almost surrendered to temptation once more.

Instead, I fumbled for the door handle and burst out of his car. I barely refrained from slamming it in my need to put space between all of him and all of me. Because he was right. We shouldn’t mess up what we had. Even though every bit of my body rebelled against the idea. But maybe it was for the best. Maybe he was being the smart one.

Praying I wouldn’t trip while he watched me from his car, I hurried up the steps, through the screened-porch door, then fished the key out of my purse. I lifted my hand in a blind wave before I unlocked and closed yet another door between us. It still didn’t feel like enough. The strength went out of my legs and I sank back against the door as I listened to his car leave.

My roiling gut told me I’d just made a colossal mistake. But was it kissing him? Or letting him go?

18

Hunter

The last thing I wanted to do the next morning was meet Sal in my parents’ old house. I’d gotten barely any sleep after dropping Chloe off. I’d driven around in circles for a while, literally and figuratively. My mind played our kiss on an endless loop. I imagined a dozen different endings to the night that didn’t involve me aimlessly driving around town.

But I’d messed it up. As usual.

My insecurities had swamped me the moment the concert ended. Like I wasn’t good at this. I wasn’t the romantic type. I’d always carefully selected my dates based on a pre-determined list of attributes and goals. And granted, I couldn’t remember more than a handful of names and faces, but that was dating. And dating, in my experience, wasn’t romantic.

Hell, my whole life consisted of screwed-up relationships with family, friends, you name it. Not to mention the logistics of Chloe and I dating were labyrinthine at best.

But being in that concert with her had flipped some kind of switch inside me. I’d felt so alive. So sure of myself. So pumped that my plan had worked and that Chloe was there with me and having the time of her life. Her body had been magnetized to mine, and she’d let me trace those sweet, seductive curves of hers until I saw stars from all the blood rushing to one place.

She’d felt it, too. I knew she did. That triumphant grin on her lips had spoken volumes.

Therefore, I’d done the thing that I’d been dreaming of since that first day in her office during the will reading. I’d gotten lost in the fire that sparked so easily between us and kissed her. And she’d kissed me back. Holy hell, had she kissed me back.

I paced the pockmarked carpet of the old house’s living room, insatiable energy filling me at the thought of her mouth devouring mine. I’d felt like a damn superhero, glowing with power, ready to fly us away from the entire planet.

And her body. That soft, lithe body. Curves and angles that I could spend endless days exploring, mapping, memorizing. I couldn’t draw people very well, but I knew curves and angles, and hers made me want to pick up my pencil and sketch.

I stopped pacing and groaned, fisting my hands over my eyes. Insanity. That was the only place my thoughts could lead. Insanity and pain.

“Should I come back later?” a dry voice came from the front door.

I dropped my hands, my emotions raw and chafing against each other. “No. Let’s do this.”

Sal thumped in with her cane. “You seem particularly grumpy today.”

“I’m fine.”

“What’d you do last night?”

I glared at her. “Why’d you ask me to come here?”

“I was curious about what you wanted to do with this place. You’ll own it soon.”

Rubbing the back of my neck, I looked around. Holes, big and small, punctured the walls. Dust made a second carpet on the ceiling. And the whole place smelled like death. This was the nightmare to my waking dream last night.

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