Split(89)

My hand stills hers and she blinks up at me.

“Let me.” I push to my knees and drop a kiss on her forehead, the tip of her nose, her lips, before moving down her body and pressing my lips to her breast before covering it back up with her bra and sweater. I slide farther down and practically explode at the feeling of her warm soft body between my legs. I pepper her flat belly with kisses. I’m hard and throbbing as I dip lower, overwhelmed by her scent. Gripping her hips, I press a kiss between her legs.

She gasps and pops her head off the ground.

“I’m sorry. Was that wrong?” I can’t explain it, but I’m overcome with the need to taste her everywhere and not leave a single inch unexplored.

“No, it wasn’t wrong. It’s just . . .” Her cheeks flush. “If we’re going there, we need a bed, in a room, with a door, because I won’t be able to stop myself from tasting you too.”

Her words shoot straight between my legs and I groan as the image of Shy’s mouth on me makes me dizzy with want.

I pull her panties up her toned thighs and back into place, followed by her jeans. “Ya know, I have a bed, in a room, with a door . . .”

The light sound of her laughter makes my heart pound. I stand and grab both of her hands, hoisting her off the forest floor. She brushes herself off and redoes her hair that fell loose around her face while I snag my sweatshirt and pull it over my head.

I rub my fingertips together, still able to feel her on my skin and remind myself this isn’t a dream. This beautiful woman wants me. Every single piece of me.

She stands there silent as I stare at her, wondering what on earth I ever did to deserve her. Even if we leave this place and things go back to the way they were, this single moment makes me forget the pain of my past. Makes me believe that miracles are possible.

“Lucas?”

I blink down at her and smile. “Yeah?”

“I want you to know that I talked to Gage about what happened.”

It takes a second for my mind to catch up with her meaning and then the memory slams into me. The truck, we were talking and . . . my eyes dart to hers. “You know. About my family.”

And she’s here with me anyway.

She stands a little taller and holds my gaze. “Gage told me everything.”

Everything? Even I don’t know everything.

She reaches forward and picks up my hand, pressing it to her chest. “You know he’d never share that with me if he didn’t trust me, and now I need to ask you to do the same, Lucas. Can you do that? Can you trust me?”

I search the recesses of my heart, my mind, and dig back to the depths of my soul. Do I?

I bring her hand to my lips and kiss her knuckles. “Yes. I do.”

Her face lights up in a smile so brilliant it’s almost too bright to look at, too much to behold. “Really? You usually say no.”

I run my knuckles along her cheek and she sighs and leans into my touch. “Guess you could say you’ve proved yourself trustworthy.”

“Thank you. That means a lot to me. I know you don’t trust people easily, especially women.” I lose her smile and miss it instantly.

“How do you know that?”

It comes back, but it looks forced. Shaky. “Gage told me about your mom. What she’d do to you and your brothers and sister.”

He told her about my past. The disgusting things I was forced to do, and the even worse things Gage protected me from. Those aren’t stories shared between lovers or friends. Those are tales of horror, the backbone of every nightmare, and meant to be taken to the grave. And I hate that Shy’s been tainted by them.

My hand drops from her face and I step back. “Why would he tell you that?” My voice sounds void. Emotionless.

“Don’t get mad, okay, I just . . .” She chews her bottom lip, her eyes skirting to the nearly set sun, then back to me. “Do you ever wonder what happened that day, the day you got that scar?”

“No.” Gage took over that day, and I don’t need to know the details of what happened to know it ended in four lives lost. “If I knew the truth, I’d probably hate myself more than I already do.”

“You’re not even a little curious to know—”

“No. Not even a little.” All that matters is a jury found me innocent. What really happened is irrelevant.

“But—”

“Drop it, Shy!” I turn away, pissed at myself for snapping at her. She doesn’t deserve my anger. “I don’t want to talk about this with you.”

“Why not me?”

Because I want you to like me, don’t want you to see how weak I am, want to be deserving of you.

I turn and force myself to relax. “I don’t want to know, okay?”

She shakes her head. “Okay, I understand.” She holds out her hand. “Come on, it’s getting dark. We should go.”

I stare at the patch of earth where flowers are now crushed as evidence of what we’d done there and feel the frustration melt away. She tugs on my hand and after one last glance, I follow Shyann into the thick of the forest.





THIRTY-ONE



LUCAS


It’s dark by the time we get back to the river house. We took our time hoofing through the trees talking about mindless things. She laughs when I tell stories about the guys at work, and she tells me stories about those same guys from when she was a kid.