by Diana Gardin
She sucked her bottom lip between her teeth. His heart began to pound with increasing rhythm in his chest, and he wished he could tell it to shut up. She was so close there was no way she couldn’t hear it. It was beating so damn hard against his ribs there was no way she couldn’t see it. That lip was so plump and perfect; how long had he wanted to nibble on it exactly the way she was doing?
Too long. He’d just never admitted it to himself. He’d never allowed himself to feel anything after she chose Sam. He’d made such a mistake, not telling her how he felt about her back then. Maybe he could have saved them all of this heartache.
“Oh.”
That was all she said. Oh. What did that mean? Why didn’t she look thrilled?
“Ev?” His voice was soft, trepid.
She’d returned her head to a neutral position, staring up at the sky again. “Yeah?”
He let a minute tick by, trying to read her and failing miserably. “You excited?”
She turned her head again, and his heart was off to the races. Traitor.
So slowly he wasn’t sure it was really happening, she reached out and brushed a strand of his hair out of his eyes. Her touch sent his nerve endings into a raucous frenzy, and he swallowed a groan. His hand shot forward and caught her wrist, holding it still and frozen in midair between them. Touching him wasn’t a smart idea. She couldn’t touch him; his body was going to betray them both if she did.
Staring at her, he held her wrist tightly in his hand, squeezing slightly but not hard enough to hurt her. She didn’t move an inch, not to pull her arm away and not to touch him again. Her tongue ventured out to lick her lips while she held his gaze. She had no idea what she did to him. How incredibly enticing she was, just being herself.
“Don’t,” he finally said, his voice as dry as leaves drifting from trees in autumn.
She kept ahold of his eyes, and his heart, and his entire being, while she worked to answer him. “Why?”
“You know why.”
Finally, she broke the thin strand of emotion holding them together and sat up, tucking her hair behind her ears with trembling hands. Standing, she grabbed the bag of used utensils and plates and began walking toward the truck.
Hunter lay still, his head turned in her direction, watching her walk to the truck.
Watching her walk away from him.
A wave of panic so strong it sent nausea rolling through his stomach slammed into him, and he was up and jogging after her. His breath stuck in his throat as he ran, and he caught her hand and swung her to face him just as she reached the truck.
She dropped the bag, a strangled sob escaping her as her hands went up and tangled in his hair. Her touch sent a signal for the hundreds of wings fluttering around in his stomach to take flight, and his hands jerked on her hips, yanking her in close.
He begged her with his eyes to stop him. To stop the path of their bodies hurtling toward each other. Somehow, he figured they’d always been moving toward each other in some way, shape, or form. He was unable to hold himself at a distance from her anymore. It was wrong, and yet it was so right.
“Hunter,” was all she had time to breathe before his lips slammed into hers.
Jesus Christ.
He realized he was kissing her a second after he was already doing it. Since he was already going straight to hell, he pulled her close until she was pressed flush against him. Her body molded perfectly to his. Perfectly. And the sigh that escaped her as she parted her lips was like an injection of a drug that he thought he’d never be able to quit.
His hands ran down the sides of her hips, past the denim until he found the skin of her thighs, and he savored the softness of it under his fingers. He ran his fingers back up again until he found an even softer patch of skin, at the top of her shorts where waistband met hem. His hands couldn’t experience enough sin; his lips couldn’t press hard enough against hers.
He tasted her—God, he tasted her. And no sweet thing could ever again measure up.
Then it was over. Ever braced her hands against his chest and pushed, and the spell was broken. He stepped back, rubbing the spot where her lips had caressed his. Then he was snapped back to reality when her hand shot out and slapped him, hard, across the face.
“Ev—”
“Don’t!” she screamed, tears streaming down her cheeks. He stared at her face, which was so stricken he suddenly wished he could take back the last minute of both their lives just to remove that look.
“Take me home,” she snapped, turning and wrenching open the truck door.
She was silent the entire ride back to Duck Creek, staring out the window. When he glanced at her, the sting of her pain seared across his skin. It physically hurt to look at her. Because he’d just experienced the very best moment of his life, and he couldn’t even enjoy it. Because he had hurt her. And he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to fix it.
When he pulled up at her house, she didn’t wait for the truck to come to a stop. She opened her door and leaped out, running at full speed for her front door. Hunter got out and stood there, both hands gripping his hair, a roar threatening to rumble from deep inside his chest.
There was no point in running after her. She wasn’t going to open the door to him. Not now. The curse he muttered was lost in the stifling air, and he got back in the truck, slammed the door, and drove home.
Ever couldn’t seem to keep enough breath in her body as she poured out her life story to Rilla on her living room couch. Her mind was a whirlwind of thoughts and prayers, and her heart was fluttering around in her chest.
“Oh, honey.” Rilla shook her head sadly. “I hate seeing you like this. And now that I know everything you’ve been through…so much makes sense. That haunted look in your eyes. That doesn’t get there without years of heartache and pain. I’m so sorry you’re going through all of this now.”
Ever shook her head, angrily shaking away her tears. She’d had enough for one lifetime, hadn’t she? Damn…how much could one person take?
Now she occupied the slim space between two brothers. She’d chosen Sam long ago, without even realizing she had a choice. What if she had chosen Hunter back then? Could she have saved them all some of the pain she was now inflicting?
Eleven
Hunter’s long body sprawled out along a picnic bench on the work site, his boots propped up on the bench across from him. He stared up into the sparkling sky, wishing the sun would just burn his retinas already.
“You’ve gotta tell her, man,” advised Cross.
“She already knows,” said Hunter dully.
“Nah.” Cross shook his head. “She might know on the inside. But if you don’t tell her exactly what’s in your head and your heart, she’s just gonna be confused, Hunter. Is that what you want? Or do you want Ever to be perfectly clear on where you stand, and why you’re willing to do this to your brother?”
Hunter nodded slowly, beginning to understand that Cross had a point.
“You’ve always been in her corner, even when she didn’t realize it was you,” continued Cross. “The girl needs to know. Shit, I think I’ll tell her if you won’t.”
“You won’t tell her anything,” said Hunter. “I’ll talk to her.”
“And how are you going to get the ball rolling, considering she hasn’t breathed your air in a week?”
“She’ll listen,” said Hunter in a determined voice. “She has to go with me to see Sam next weekend. She’ll listen before then.”
The time to talk to Ever came sooner than Hunter expected. That night, after he had showered and settled onto his couch, his body utterly exhausted from the hard work he endured all week, his cell phone rang on the coffee table. Picking it up, he read Cross’s name on the screen.
“I’m not going out—I already told you,” he growled in greeting.
“Get your ass down here, man,” said Cross. “If you ain’t here, I’m gonna have my hands full trying to keep the masses off her.”
Hunter stood, s
earching the room for his shirt. “She’s at the bar?”
“Yeah,” confirmed Cross. “With Rilla. I don’t want her to have another wild night without you to catch her at the end of it.”
Hunter pulled on the discarded shirt and grabbed his keys. “Give me five minutes, Cross. I swear to God, if anyone touches her before I get there, they’ll be scraping a dead body up off the floor.”
He disconnected the call, jogged outside, and jumped in his truck. When he arrived at the bar, his eyes found Ever and Rilla dancing on top of the bar to an audience of adoring admirers.
“Fuck, no,” he muttered as he stalked in her direction. Cross sent him a salute as he passed by his table, and when he reached the bar he called out Ever’s name.
She locked eyes with him, her eyebrows lifting in surprise. He reached up for her, but she batted his hands away.
“Go home, Hunter,” she yelled above the Luke Bryan song blaring over the speakers.
“You’re coming home with me!” He reached up again, this time ignoring her swats and yanking her by the waist down into his arms. She tumbled down against his chest, and he cradled her firmly against his body as he carried her from the bar.
“Son of a bitch,” she cursed. “You have no right, Hunter!”
“I know that,” he hissed in her ear, grabbing her wrist before she could smack him in the face. “You don’t think I’m well aware of the fact that I have no rights when it comes to you? You’re not having a repeat of last weekend. Not until I get some things off my chest. Then, if you want to go out and get wasted, I won’t even try to stop you. Just don’t expect me to be there to pick up the pieces.”
She stilled in his arms, and he glanced down at her, noting she wasn’t totally drunk yet. She had merely scratched the surface, and he was relieved as he placed her gently in the front seat of his truck.
“We’re going to my place,” he said with a grim set to his mouth.
She sat on his couch, warily watching Hunter as he paced in front of her like a hungry bear.
“Hunter—” she tried.
He held up both hands, as if to ward off whatever words would fall out of her mouth next. “No. Just listen. That’s all I want you to do right now. Okay?”
She nodded, tucking her legs underneath her.
Hunter followed that movement, his eyes zeroing in on her legs, bare in her denim mini.
“No,” he said, his voice suddenly hoarse. “I can’t do this with you sitting there looking…like that. Please go change.”
Her heartbeat spiked at his words and the expression in his eyes. The way he looked at her was…it was…it made her insides melt into a puddle of incoherent thoughts and feelings.
The way Hunter made her feel…it was so different than the way she felt with Sam. With Sam, she felt comfortable, and warm, and protected.
With Hunter, she felt alive. She felt sensual. She knew she didn’t need protecting, but his strong body was there to catch her if she fell.
She nodded. Maybe it would be better if she changed.
Five minutes later she settled into the same spot, this time dressed in a pair of Hunter’s shorts and one of his soft, long-sleeved tees. She held her breath, because if she inhaled, she’d breathe in his scent. It was all over her, and that was nearly as bad as having him all over her. She shuddered.
“Cold?” he asked with concern.
“No,” she said. “Go ahead. Talk.”
Taking a deep gulp of air and holding it, his lips moved as he counted to five. Then he began to speak.
“You’re falling apart right now because you think that when Sam left, he took a piece of you with him. That might be true, Ev. But he didn’t take the most important pieces. Those are still here, with me. I’ve loved you for just as long as Sam has. Longer, maybe. I know you better than he does. Like, I know you want to stay here in Duck Creek and make a life for yourself here. I know you want to own your own bakery one day, and that you’re damn talented enough in the kitchen to do it. I know that your secret wish came true when your dad died, but that you may never forgive yourself for being the one who had to pull the trigger. I wish to God it had been me who did that. Not you.
“I know Sam stepped in when you needed him the most. But I told him way back then, when we were just barely teenagers, that I thought I was going to marry you one day. He knew that. But then you chose him, and he let you. That nearly killed me, but I stepped back.”
“Hunter—”
“No, let me finish. The gun that killed your dad? Sam asked me, and I’m the one who got it for him to give to you. I’ve always wanted you safe, just like he has. He was just the face of the Keep Ever Alive campaign. But we shared the responsibility fifty-fifty.”
“Oh my God,” she whispered. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because you chose him.” The anguish in his voice slapped her with a force she didn’t expect. She looked down at her hands so she wouldn’t have to see his pain. “God, it hurt like a motherfucker when the two of you announced that you were dating. It was like everyone else in town expected it. But it hit me like a sledgehammer. I didn’t know what to do. So I didn’t do anything.”
She stood, stumbling over her feet to get to where Hunter was. She stood directly in front of him, looking up.
“You love me?”
She suddenly had to hear him say it again. Her life depended on it, in that moment.
The air he held in left his chest in a rush of breath, and he nodded slowly, holding her stare.
“I love you, Ever Allen. I always have. I always will.”
The air between them became charged with a new type of energy, pulsating with the emotions churning around the two of them. Hunter cupped her face in his hands.
“Do you want me to say it again?” he murmured as he leaned down toward her lips.
“Don’t,” she begged softly, all the while moving closer into his reach.
“I can’t not kiss you right now.” His voice was almost nonexistent as he closed the tiniest bit of distance left between them. “I’m not capable of holding back anymore.”
His last word was a breath on his lips as they grazed against hers, and then he took her mouth fully with his own. She allowed herself to taste him this time, because this was Hunter and she was kissing him. He tasted sweeter than she would have imagined, like minty freshness mixed with something tangy and delicious. When his tongue teased her lips, prodding her mouth to open for him, she moaned a little into him, and she was suddenly floating somewhere up above herself, watching it all unfold.
His hands stroked her cheeks, holding her like something precious that could very possibly break. And she guessed she could break; this could rip her apart.
Or maybe it could stitch her back together again.
“Ever,” he sighed as he pulled back just far enough to stare into her eyes. His were full of wonder and fascination, as if he’d always thought about what this would be like but the real experience was so much more than he’d ever imagined. Or maybe that was just her own thoughts reflecting back at her.
In a sudden movement that stole her breath, he lifted her. One arm wrapped strongly around her shoulders while the other cradled her beneath her knees. He carried her quickly to the couch and laid her down.
Following, her down, he leaned forward and kissed her again, intensifying the experience with more force. She whimpered against his lips, and he groaned as his hands roamed down her torso and into the waistband of her shorts.
His hands left fiery streaks of heat on her skin, and she couldn’t get enough. He lifted her so she was straddling his lap with ease as he pulled his mouth away again.
The ferocity was back in his eyes. She loved his eyes, the way they looked at her as if she were the last thing he’d ever see on Earth.
“You’re mine,” he whispered. “You were never really Sam’s, Ev. You were always mine.”
She nodded, because somehow, someway, that statement was the God’s honest truth. She co
uld kick herself for not realizing it sooner.
She reached down for the hem of his shirt, pulling it up, and greedily took in the sight of him without feeling guilty, without wishing she could touch him. Because she was touching him—every hard ridge of his chest, every ripple in his stomach. And he did the same to her, his eyes roving over her now shirtless body as he threw the garment away and absorbed every inch of her bareness. They continued to undress each other this way, touching and sometimes tasting, wondering and exploring.
Exploring each other like they hadn’t spent most of their lives together.
But Ever had never seen Hunter like this, had never had the right to.
She still didn’t. She put the tiny voice in a box and locked it far, far away.
His hands traveled up her bare back, drifting around her sides to cup her breasts in his big palms.
“Yes!” she gasped, throwing her head back and sinking her hips down on top of his obvious need.
“Holy fuck,” he groaned into the crook of her neck. “I want you so bad, Ever. So fucking bad.”
“What are you waiting for?” Her bold statement surprised even her. This was what she wanted. It was what they both needed.
They would both explode without it.
He pulled back, staring hard into her eyes.
“Are you sure?”
In answer, she reached down between them, grabbing his erection, squeezing just enough to show him how serious she was.
He emitted a string of curses and took control, flipping her so that she was underneath him on the couch and owning her mouth.
“I love you,” he whispered just before his lips left hers to trail along the line of her jaw and down her neck. She arched against him, her full breasts pressing against his chest. He hissed in a breath at the contact, and bent his head to take a taut nipple into his mouth.
She screamed his name. What he made her feel…the pure heat in her core that threatened to burn her up from the inside out…it was magical and new and amazing. They both cried out as their bodies finally linked in the way that made them one.