Reckless Hearts (Oak Harbor #2)(49)

“Sure thing.”

We hop in his truck, and I direct him through the traffic and across town. “Why does this look familiar . . . ?” Will asks, after we park on a non-descript street.

“You’ll see.” I take him to the corner store, and pick out a cheap bottle of wine and a pack of paper cups. Then I lead him around the corner, and down the next street. “This is the spot, right . . . here,” I declare, stopping on the curb. To the outsider, there’s nothing special at all: we’re outside a row of office buildings, with cars parked bumper-to-bumper and pedestrians walking past.

Will looks around, confused for a moment. Then his face spreads into smile, realizing why I’ve brought him here. “This is where we met.”

“Yup.” I screw off the cap on the wine, and pour into the cups he’s holding. “I know it’s not exactly an anniversary,” I add, feeling a little self-conscious. Lord knows I don’t do sappy romantic gestures, but this time I couldn’t resist. “But it’s where it all began. You, me, a lost pair of keys . . .”

“And a pretty pissed off cop,” Will adds, grinning.

“To new beginnings,” I say, raising my cup in a toast.

“To us,” he says softly, and suddenly, my chest clenches with the meaning of it. Because this is the beginning, the first time I’ve ever looked at the face across from me and wanted there to be so much more. A future for the two of us, built day by day. I’m not planning on forever just yet, and I know, this has only just begun, but I know without a doubt that William Wyatt Montgomery means more to me than any man has before—and maybe ever will again.

I love him.

I take a gulp of wine, not ready for that particular conversation, not just yet. I give him a bright smile instead. “Did you ever guess that when you stopped to help that damsel in distress, you’d wind up here?”

“Never in a million years.” Will steps closer, reaching to bring his free hand to my cheek. I see something mirrored in his eyes, that same bright wonder I’m feeling now. “And they say crime never pays.”

I smile, feeling weirdly choked up. I meant this as a fun gesture, but now I can feel the emotion swelling behind my teasing words, threatening to pull me under.

“Listen,” Will starts, looking away. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

I take another gulp of wine, panicking he’s about to share his feelings with me. Luckily, my phone buzzes with another text from Eva.

Just landed! See you tonight.

“It’s getting late!” I exclaim, glad for the distraction. “We better hit the road if I’m going to make it in time for girls’ night.”

Will exhales, then gives me a wry smile. “Those pillow fights won’t wait.” Will downs the rest of his cup and tosses them in the trash. He slings an arm around my shoulder, and I happily snuggle closer, strolling back to the truck. Was it just a couple of months ago I was kissing him in the rain, torn between rushing away and never letting go?

I’m lucky the universe intervened and delivered him to my door. Otherwise I might never have discovered what it felt like to be wrapped in the safety of his embrace, and feel the delicious flutter of anticipation, thinking of the nights to come. I would be alone—content in my life, sure, but nowhere near as happy as this.

“Thank you,” I say, tilting my face up to his.

“What for?”

“For everything,” I say, nestling closer. “For being you.”



The drive home slips by, easy with chat and laughter, and long silences that feel so natural, it’s like I’ve known him for years. It’s twilight by the time we cross the bridge and make it to the county line.

“Wait, I think I left my day planner at your place,” I say, remembering. “Can we stop by and pick it up? I need to make some calls tomorrow.”

Will turns off the highway. “That’s dangerous territory, going anyplace near my bed.” He flashes me a smoldering look, and I groan.

“I wish, but I’m running late as it is. Eva will be back soon.”

“So? You’d be amazed what I can do with five minutes.”

I laugh. “Well, in that case . . .” Will suddenly hits the gas, and we fly over the bumpy track, winding through the trees. I shriek with surprise, then laugh, hanging onto the door strap.

“That buys me another thirty seconds,” he says, pulling up outside with a screech of the tires. “Get your ass inside and get naked before I—”

He stops.

“What?” I ask, but he’s already flung open the driver’s door and is out of the truck, striding across the yard to where a woman is waiting on the front porch.

A beautiful woman, with glossy brown hair and red lips, wearing a sophisticated dress and heels, daintily holding a leather handbag.

Something drops in my stomach, and I feel my skin prickle with a bad, bad feeling. Still, I force myself to open the passenger door and climb down, slowly walking across the yard. Will is gesturing angrily, in low heated conversation, but he falls silent when I get close enough to listen; his hands jammed in his pockets, his gaze fixed on the dusty porch.

My heart beats faster.

“Will?” I ask, trying to sound calm. “Do you want to introduce me to your friend?”