Reckless Hearts (Oak Harbor #2)(40)

But what about when he wakes up and finds me gone?

My heart aches to think of it. Bailing like this is a shitty move. Sure, I’ve done it before—that’s how it works, the morning after. Either he or I find a way to slip out unnoticed, to save us all the awkward morning-after small talk pretending like we’re actually going to see each other again. Except, I do want to see Will. I want to be with him right now, nestled in the warmth of his embrace, ready to kiss him good morning and make breakfast on his ridiculous back porch hot plate. It would be perfect, if only I let myself turn back around and take the chance.

What am I so scared of?

The trees rustle around me in a shifting sea of green. It’s beautiful out here, peaceful and calm, but I can’t ignore the turmoil raging inside me.

“You can choose to be happy . . .”

Will’s words circle in my mind. He makes it sound so simple, but is it really? Can I just choose to put aside years of building this safe, impenetrable wall around my heart, and make a different future—with him? I want it. God, I want it more than anything. But here I am, running away. Letting my own stupid fears and insecurities take me further away from the man I want, when I should be doing everything I can to stay with him.

Where I belong.

So what the hell am I doing?

I take one step, and then another, not towards the highway, but back to Will’s place. I walk faster, then break into a run, the breeze whipping around my bare legs as I hurry down the dirt track, my heart racing with every step. I just came close to making the biggest mistake of my life, and now I have to get back before Will wakes up and realizes I’ve gone.

I race up the driveway and silently let myself back inside. I go through to the makeshift kitchen, and scrounge up a can of instant coffee, heating water in a pan over the burner until I can brew something resembling a cup of joe. I take the two mugs and head upstairs, praying to god that Will’s still asleep and hasn’t even noticed my absence. But when I push open the bedroom door, I find him sitting up in bed: shirtless, scruffy, sleepy, and utterly gorgeous. I drink him in, relief crashing through me.

I made the right decision. I didn’t walk away.

Will looks up from his phone, and gives me a questioning smile. “Morning, beautiful. I was wondering where you were.”

“I needed my caffeine fix. Want some?” I ask brightly, walking over to the bed. “I did what I could with instant,” I tell him, handing him a mug and then climbing carefully into bed beside him. “But I don’t know how it turned out. We need to get you an espresso machine,” I add, my heart still pounding with a weird sense of unease.

Will slings an arm around my shoulders, and drops a kiss to my forehead, cuddling me close as he sips his coffee. “Did you make it far?” he asks at last.

My head whips around. “How did you . . . ?” I stop, my words trailing away under the tide of guilt. How doesn’t matter. Will he be mad at me? Hurt?

“To the highway,” I admit, feeling small. I brace myself for his disappointment, but instead, Will just leans back and gives a satisfied grin.

“You came back,” he says, sounding smug. “I knew once you’d had a real man, you couldn’t stay away.”

I snort with laughter, and hit him lightly in the stomach.

“Watch it!” Will protests, trying not to spill his coffee. He takes both our mugs and sets them on the nightstand, then pulls me into his lap. “It’s the truth, isn’t it?” he says, his voice becoming more serious. “One night with me, and there’s no going back.”

“Yeah, yeah.” I pretend to roll my eyes, but inside, I’m smiling. “What can I say? You’re irresistible.”

I straddle him and cradle his face in my hands, feeling the scratch of his stubble. Will’s eyes are soft on mine, still searching. “I came back,” I repeat, and Will kisses me, long and slow. I melt into him, feeling the certainty take me over, savoring every touch.

This is where I’m supposed to be, right here in his arms.

I choose to be happy.

I choose him.





Fourteen.


Will



I could spend a whole day feasting on Delilah’s incredible body, but she drags herself out of bed before noon.

“I’ve got an open house,” she says, reaching for her underwear. “I’m already running late.”

“So skip it.” I pull her back against the edge of the bed, her skin silky smooth under my hands.

“I wish.” Dee flashes me a regretful smile. “But I need to prove myself while Marcie’s away, and these clients are getting desperate. They really need to sell, and I want to make it happen as soon as possible.”

There she goes, being so damn sweet again. She doesn’t even realize that good heart like hers is hard to find. I drop a kiss against her stomach, and feel her shiver.

God, I love the way she responds to me: every gasp, every touch. I tease lower, taking the lace of her panties between my teeth and tugging them away. My hands slide up her thighs, ready to peel them away, but Delilah lets out a reluctant sound, then dances out of reach.

“I can’t,” she says, her cheeks flushed. I arch an eyebrow, and she laughs. “I really can’t,” she insists again. “Later. I promise.”

I lay back, watching as she wriggles into the rest of her clothes and tries to comb her hair out with her fingers. Damn, she’s sexy. Framed there in the sunshine, her hair a tangled mess and her dress all crumpled from spending the night on my bedroom floor, she’s still so damn beautiful it takes my breath away. And even though I’ve had her two, three times already today, I want her all over again. Those luscious lips crying out my name, that sweet body clenched slick and whimpering around me.