Where We Belong (Hideaway Bay, #1)

by Lauren Harbor

  Her warm hand wrapped around his and his heart fluttered. Fucking fluttered like a guy in one of the teen romance movies Haley made him watch in high school.

  God, he'd missed her touch, her smile. He even missed her terrible taste in movies.

  “I'm sorry, too. We both made mistakes, but it's done now. I'm sick of not having you in my life because I need you.” She smiled up at him and his breath caught in his chest as hope bubbled in his gut. She didn't expand on what role he would play in her life and he was too terrified to ask.

  He pulled her in for a hug. “You've got me, Hales.”

  Chapter Seven

  We all played fetch at the park today! Maybe Mom will come home soon.

  ~ Duke Harper-O’Connor

  Haley sucked in a breath of cool, crisp ocean air and stretched out her back, sore from bending over a table preparing food for the past hour. Hideaways Bay's Fourth of July Festival was the town's busiest event, and Haley's favorite, drawing tourists from surrounding counties as well as those trekking up and down the Pacific Coast Highway. She loved it all. The carnival rides, market stalls, musical acts, and fireworks. Especially the fireworks.

  Each year she volunteered for the local community center which raised money with a BBQ cookout. The makeshift kitchen marquee on the edge of the park held a prime position close to the main stage. Musical artists from all over the state would play through the afternoon and into the evening, attracting hungry festival goers. They should raise enough money to fund several community programs.

  Unfortunately, this year she felt like more a hindrance than a help. A particular sexy firefighter occupied almost every thought, making even the simplest of tasks a challenge. Since he'd taken her to his support group something had changed, shifted between them. For so long they'd managed to perfect the art of avoidance, but lately, they were drawn together like magnets.

  Instead of frequenting the park at different times, Ryan had jogged up beside her one morning, and for the past two weeks, they'd run together with Duke like they used to. She'd also started frequenting The Mean Bean before work, Ryan's preferred place to get his caffeine fix, instead of settling for sub-par weak lattes offered at the diner. And when their group of friends gathered at The Hideaway on the weekends, she and Ryan found themselves gravitating toward the back of the bar for a game of pool rather than using their friends as buffers to avoid one-on-one time. They never openly acknowledged this new relationship, or friendship, or whatever the hell they had going on, and the ambiguity of it all would slowly send her grey. She refused to reach that aging milestone before her sister.

  “You're so distracted today.” Addi's comment snapped her out of her daze. Her sister peered at her from across the counter where she mixed hamburger helper with the onions and spices in Grandma O'Connor’s recipe for her famous burger patties which flew off the grill at the cookout every year.

  Without the full sleeve of tattoos on Addi's left arm and the long streak of purple in her hair, she would be the picture-perfect nineteen fifties pinup model, complete with blonde up-do and cherry print swing dress which clung to her ample assets.

  Haley had no complaints about her smaller breasts, it was easier to chase down a runner and practice martial arts without huge humps of flesh getting in the way, but today, the urge to compare niggled at her. When you wore a dress for the first time in years, insecurities were bound to flourish.

  “Tired, I guess.” Haley shrugged and sliced into a tomato, which sent red juice squirting across her forearm.

  “Here, wear this.” Addi tossed the red, white, and blue star-spangled apron to Haley who looped it over her head and tied the strings behind her back. “I don't know what miracle occurred for you to wear that dress today, but Mom will kill you if you ruin it.”

  “It'll be fine. Why is everyone so obsessed with this damn piece of fabric?” Haley grumbled. The wolf whistles from the other volunteers when she'd arrived in the uncharacteristic outfit had been nothing compared to her mother's squeal of delight which carried across the park out to the bay like a fog horn.

  Shayla grinned at her from where she stood next to Addi, grating carrots for the slaw. “Maybe it's nothing to do with the dress, but who you're wearing it for?”

  Haley's cheeks flamed and she wiped her hands on the apron. Not for the first time, she questioned her decision to ditch her usual summer outfit of a tank top and jean shorts for the dress her mother bought her at Christmas. She’d thought of only one man’s reaction when impulsively grabbing the white cotton sundress from the back of her closet where it lived with all the others she'd received but never worn.

  Apparently, her feelings for Ryan had addled her brain, pushing her out of her comfort zone and right into girly-girl territory. Thankfully, comfort won out over vanity, and she’d dismissed the idea of wearing the one pair of strappy sandals she owned, instead opting for the patriotic look with her limited-edition stars and stripes high tops.

  She glanced up to find Shayla grinning at her. “Don't start.”

  “What? I didn't say anything.” Shayla shrugged but failed to hide her smirk.

  “Your smug face says plenty.”

  “Can we assume operation keep-it-platonic is over and done with?” Her sister's raised brow spoke volumes about her opinion on the matter.

  “I'm not sure. And I know you won't approve if I change my mind.” Her sister loved Ryan like a brother, but fierce loyalty to her actual blood relatives placed him on her shit-list since the breakup.

  Addi's brow crinkled, her eyes filled with concern. “Haley, all I want is for you to be happy. If he hurts you again, I'll castrate him.”

  Haley glanced at the wooden spoon in Addi's hand, thankful it wasn't a knife. Her sister could be scary overprotective. “No need to go full psycho-killer. It's probably nothing.”

  It was not nothing.

  Over the past weeks, the possibility of reuniting with Ryan somehow became real. Spending time together highlighted all the ways he'd changed, and she was changing, too. She'd only been to the support group a few times but left every meeting lighter. Lighter and steadier and more confident in herself.

  The biggest surprise came from Ryan being a part of that; supporting her and encouraging her every step of the way.

  And she loved him for it.

  No matter how much she'd tried to deny it over the past year, she'd never stopped loving him. But rather than the heavy, suffocating love that dragged them both into darkness, this love made her world brighter. She just hoped he felt the same way.

  Addi leaned her hands on the table and stared Haley down. “You've been smiling like an idiot for weeks, and now you're dressed like the Haley version of a runway model. Either you've been body snatched, or you're in love.” When Addi caught hold of an idea, she could be worse than Duke with a rope toy—she never let go.

  “Okay, so the idea of giving it another with Ryan may have crossed my mind a time or two.”

  Or five hundred.

  Shayla's squeal rivaled Mariah Carey’s glass-shattering high notes and drew questioning stares from the other volunteers. She chuckled and flashed a rueful smile. “Sorry. I'm excited.”

  “Don't hire a skywriter just yet. I have no idea if it's what he wants. We've both hurt each other pretty badly.”

  Shayla shook her head. “That’s all in the past, and you're both in a better place. Besides, that man is cuckoo over you. He wants you back.”

  Haley hid her smile and got back to work, her stomach fluttering madly with nerves.

  Chapter Eight

  If Mom and Dad get back together, I’ll give up jerky.

  For a week.

  ~ Duke Harper-O’Connor

  Ryan grinned as he approached the marquee, his excitement and need to see Haley like that of a child waiting to open gifts on Christmas morning. Over the past couple of weeks, spending time with Haley every day became second nature again.

  It both excited and terrified him. He wanted her back. Had put
in the work to be the guy she needed, strong enough to support her risky career which scared the hell out of him. Even Dr. Whittaker’s tick of approval couldn’t drown out the gravelly whisper of doubt in his mind which questioned if he would win Haley back, only to let her down again.

  But he was determined to do better this time. She deserved it. They both did.

  “Hi, ladies.” Ryan chuckled as Haley jumped back from the counter, the pineapple she held slipping from her shaky hands to roll along the smooth surface toward the far edge. He caught it before it fell to the grass and brought it to her.

  “Here you go, butterfingers.” He held the runaway fruit in front of her and when she reached for it, their fingers connected, and a shiver zipped down his spine.

  “Thanks.” She took the fruit from him, and his heart rate jumped at the sight of her sweet smile, and the soft touch of her fingers.

  The scent of apple blossom perfume tickled his nostrils. She only wore it for special occasions, but he'd recognize that sweet scent anywhere. And she’d styled her hair, sides swept back and clipped in place by the cute ladybug pins he'd bought her a couple of birthdays ago.

  She untied her apron and slipped it over her head. He let his gaze wander over her, delighting at the expanse of soft, pale skin beneath her white dress. He'd never seen it before but approved of the fancy detailed neckline and bodice that molded to her chest and waist, showcasing her rocking body before flaring out into a fuller skirt. He paused slightly where the hem of the dress revealed her bare legs below the knee—he was a total leg man, after all—and grinned when he reached her feet. The red, white, and blue high tops were so completely Haley, they made her outfit shine.

  He met her eyes and leaned in close to ensure the others couldn't hear. “You're stunning.”

  “Thank you.” She blushed at the compliment and a triumphant smile blossomed.

  She’d dressed up for him. She’d worn a freakin’ dress for him. He resisted the urge to beat his chest like the modern equivalent of caveman shouting mine, mine, mine.

  Heat arced between them. The same heat which intensified with every interaction over the past couple of weeks, drawing them together with each smile and look of longing. It was exhilarating. Exciting. Terrifying.

  A group of volunteers arrived to collect the already prepared salads on the table, and she looked away from him, clearing her throat. He made room for the others, moving close enough to feel the heat radiate from her skin without quite touching. A fucking miracle when that damn inner caveman begged to drag her away somewhere private.

  He glanced at his watch. Only ten minutes until he needed to set up the logs for the wood chop contest. He leaned down and whispered, “You going to cheer me on this year?”

  She shook her head and laughed, poking him in the chest with her finger “You did not lose the stupid contest last year because I wasn't there to be your personal cheer squad. Besides, you don't need me, you've got the Fire Flies for that.”

  Her eyes danced with humor, but he couldn't hold back a grimace. He hated being teased about his groupies. Fire Flies swarmed around firemen the way Badge Bunnies chased cops, and Buckle Bunnies slobbered over bull riders.

  He placed his hand over hers, stilling the knife. “You're my lucky charm, no one else.”

  She looked up at him with a soft smile and a suspicious sheen to her eyes. The world blurred and faded to grey until he saw nothing but Haley. He could never resist those eyes, the way they could kick his heart into a canter, or suck the breath from his lungs. “I'll be there.”

  Relief washed over him. Haley had cheered him on every year for well over a decade, as his best friend, then as his lover...until last year when their still-raw wounds hurt like death by a thousand cuts. Having her back in the crowd, on his team, meant more than it probably should.

  “Thanks.” He pressed his lips to her cheek, her fruity scent washing over him as he relished her soft skin against his. He should pull away, should step back, but he couldn't. He turned his face slightly, let his cheek brush over hers. She stilled then leaned in, the soft press of her breast against his arm sending an unexpected thrum of heat through his veins.

  His mouth slipped into the smirk that never failed to fire her up. Her gaze zeroed in on his mouth, and she sighed, her tongue running along her bottom lip. Fourth of July fireworks had nothing on the explosions in his chest.

  “See you over there.” He waved goodbye and got the hell out of there before he could no longer walk away.

  An hour later, Ryan grinned as he held the wood chop trophy above his head. Easiest win of his life. Every thwack of the ax against the stump, every strain in his muscles, every bead of sweat on his brow powered him further, faster, knowing Haley watched on. Knowing he would win for her.

  The crowd cheered, and he sought out Haley, her copper curls shining in the sun. She clapped and hollered with their friends.

  He made a beeline for her as soon as the presentation ended, accepting congratulations from spectators and slaps on the back from his colleagues. He kept a steady pace toward Haley, ignoring those who obviously wanted to stop and chat. Nothing mattered but getting to Haley. She waved goodbye to Shayla and Addi as they headed off toward the other side of the park where the sounds of a new rock band floated across the air from the main stage. Addi hadn't been his biggest fan lately, but she nodded at him as she left, the best show of approval he could expect.

  “Told you, you're my lucky charm,” he said before Haley threw her arms around his neck like she'd done since his first contest in high school. He wrapped his own arms around her and lifted her off the ground, reveling in not only the physical contact but the comfortable familiarity he'd missed.

  Reluctantly, he put her back down, enjoying the glide of her body against his.

  She frowned at his arm. “You're bleeding.”

  He glanced down to his bicep where a trickle of blood stained his flesh. Haley leaned forward to inspect the injury, and her warm finger prodded his arm, sending a sharp jolt of pain. He cursed, pulling away.

  “That's one hell of a splinter. Serves you right hauling those giant logs around while shirtless.” The teasing lilt in her voice, the sparkle in her eyes, and that soft, supple mouth only inches from his, made the pain disappear. Her gaze dropped to his lips, and he fought back a groan as blood rushed to his groin.

  “Want to go to the first aid tent?”

  They could, but then he'd have to talk to his colleagues, the paramedics on shift today. That didn’t gel with his plan to get Haley alone. He pointed to the fire truck and ambulance parked under a cluster of trees behind the first aid tent. There was little chance of either being needed today, which meant no interruptions. “There should be a kit in the ambulance.”

  He borrowed a set of keys from the chief, then Haley wrapped her small hand around his and pulled him away from his colleagues who made crude gestures at the couple’s expense. He was so happy he didn't bother flipping them off.

  He unlocked the bus and they stepped inside before he shut the door behind them.

  “Sit.” She pointed at the inbuilt bench seating against the wall where the paramedics sat while transporting patients. “Where’s the first aid kit?”

  He followed her order to sit and pointed to the overhead cabinet on the other side of the vehicle. She retrieved the kit and sat beside him, placing the large red bag on the bench, unzipped the flap, and rummaged for the supplies she needed.

  She worked in silence, her tongue sticking out the corner of her mouth as she concentrated on carefully removing the large splinter from his arm. Each tug of the tweezers hurt like a bitch, but a grown-ass man didn’t cry like a child over a superficial boo-boo. Especially when the woman tending that boo-boo survived a god damn bullet to her shoulder.

  She held the splinter up in triumph. “It’s a monster.”

  Damn, she was cute. And sexy. And the view down the small gape in her neckline, along with her fruity scent, kicked up Ryan’s heart rate. H
e forced his thoughts toward less arousing subjects. Kittens. Whales. Humpback Whales... No, that brought him back around to humping. Fuck. He was still halfway to a hard-on.

  Thankfully, she finished by placing a band-aid over the top and smiled at her handy work. “All done.”

  “Thanks, Hales.” His voice rasped as though desperate for water, but he was desperate for something else.

  Her eyes widened, and she glanced down to where he struggled to hide his thickening length against his zipper. He sighed and closed his eyes, frustration warring with desire. This limbo of the past couple of weeks gave him hope, but the way she fled from him after their last night together played on repeat in his mind. He couldn’t risk pushing her away again.

  Soft skin slid against his jaw, and his eyes flew open. “Hales?”

  “I need you to be honest with me, Ryan.” Her soft voice skittered across his skin as he stared into her beautiful blue eyes. “The therapy, all the work you've done these past months...is it enough?”

  He’d questioned his own ability to be the man she needed, but every last doubt fled as he looked into her eyes and saw their future together.

  He'd done the work; could be supportive, and make a life for them both where the baggage of his past didn’t weigh him down or control him.

  “Yes.” He covered her hand and removed it from his face, entwining their fingers. “If you give me another chance, I won't let you down. I promise.”

  She leaned in and pressed her soft lips to his. He savored the touch, the sweetness, the love, the longing.

  A small moan escaped as she opened for him. He craved her taste, his tongue sweeping across her lower lip, sending a shiver of need down his spine. The air around them crackled with electricity, and he shifted closer, pushing his hands through her silky curls to cup her neck and deepen the kiss. Their tongues dueled, fighting, searching for something they'd both missed for far too long.

  His erection swelled in his boxer briefs, trapped against the zipper of his jeans. He groaned and pulled away breathless, panting for air which brought minimal relief.