View With Your Heart: a small town romance (Heart Collection Book 5)

by L. B. Dunbar

  Our dinners arrive, and Gavin smiles at his plate. “God, I’ve missed these burgers.”

  I weakly look at my fish tacos, suddenly no longer hungry.

  “So I want to ask you something, and I know it’s personal, but know that asking comes from a place of genuine concern.”

  I softly chuckle, looking over at him as he rambles. “That was quite an introduction, and now I’m nervous.”

  “Tom mentioned Leo’s property.” I sit straighter in the booth. “And the possibility of a large tax bill, and a realtor that’s been badgering you to sell.”

  I look away from Gavin, aimlessly glancing across the Tavern at the television behind the bar. The locals love this place, and I try to support it as a fellow business owner.

  “I don’t think we should discuss the property,” I quietly say. Gavin sets down his burger.

  “You don’t seem to want to discuss anything with me. Not your husband. Nice fake boyfriend, by the way.” His voice drops, and I glance up at him. “Or your home or your business. What’s going on here, Britton? What am I missing?”

  I lick my lips, knowing this would be the moment to tell him the truth. The reason I’m shutting him out is because I can’t allow myself to open up to him. Once he knows the secret I’ve kept from him, he’ll never want to speak to me again, and that will honestly hurt as much as his absence the last thirteen years.

  Still, he’s been giving me more and more about him, and I feel like I should tell him something.

  “It’s as Tom probably told you. Leo wasn’t great at keeping up with his bills. When he died, although his home and the land were paid outright, he hadn’t paid the tax bill for something like five or six years. When the inheritance transferred to me, the State found out, and I need to pay with interest in arrears.” I brush hair over one ear, and I sigh. “It’s a lot to take on.”

  “Are you not doing well with the TeasMe!?” He’s cautious as he asks, not prying but curious.

  “It’s doing great for a small business only in its second year. I’m fortunate the community has embraced us, and the tourism helps, but it’s not enough to pay a million-dollar tax bill.”

  Gavin sits back. “It’s that much?”

  “Close enough, give or take a few thousand.” Or a hundred thousand. The truth is, I don’t know how I’m going to pay it all back, but I will. I’m determined to keep my business and the land.

  “I could help you.”

  “No!” I snap a little too loudly and turn to glance around us, checking to see if I’ve drawn attention. “No, this is exactly why I didn’t want to mention anything. I’ll figure it out.”

  Gavin stares at me, more questions in his head, but he doesn’t continue to pry.

  “Let me just add, if you ever need anything, I want to be here for you.” His hand reaches across the table. “I don’t want to lose you like I did all those years ago.”

  He’s been saying it over again and again, and I hate how it’s burrowing under my skin and reaching for my heart when I know it can’t be true. He’s going to leave.

  “You go back to California the day after the wedding, right?” I ask, wanting final clarification on how long Gavin will be in town, giving myself the new goal of telling him what I need to tell him before he leaves.

  “Yep. Fly out on Sunday.” He starts his explanation with enthusiasm and ends as if reality takes over. He only has one more week. That gives me seven days to find the strength to come clean. “I’d still like to see you again. Think we could just enjoy each day as it comes until then?”

  It’s reminiscent of when we were teens. When he told me he wanted to see me again after kissing me at Duke’s party, and we were almost inseparable throughout the remainder of that summer.

  “I’d like to just make it through this dinner,” I tease, knowing I can’t promise him every day. My heart can’t take it.

  “I can’t wait for dessert.” His eyes dip, roaming down the top half of my body, and I shiver in my seat. He’s such a flirt, but we won’t be going any further than this meal. Our kiss outside was . . . unexplainable . . . but I don’t deem it a mistake. It was an apology kiss, that’s all. Nothing more. I might owe him more than a few apology kisses once I finally tell him my secret.

  We pass through the remainder of dinner with lighter talk about his favorite movies from the festival and the famous entertainers he met. I marvel at the actor names he drops, easily impressed that he’s met a few of my idols. He already knows a ton of industry people, both in front of the camera and behind it. Overall, Gavin is successful, but there’s an undercurrent of the superficial. He’s missing out on simpler things in life, like his family or a family of his own, and I don’t envy him in that manner. I’d never trade knowing famous people in the world with knowing the handful of people I adore in this small town. I’d also never give up my tight family of Gee and me.

  The night is growing dark, but the fireworks won’t start until the sky is black.

  “I should check on Gee,” I say, turning for my phone in my bag.

  “You mentioned you caved on him hanging with friends at the carnival,” Gavin confirms.

  “I did, but I was able to oversee most of the area from Jenna’s apartment balcony.”

  Gavin’s brows pinch. “I didn’t mean to pull you away from your friends. Being a mom is a big responsibility.” It’s said with genuine respect for my position.

  “It is, and as he’s all I have, I worry constantly.” With the deaths of most of the people I consider family—Leo, Gertie, and Patrick—my circle is small. I speak with my mother once a week, but it’s strained. I don’t speak to my father at all. I’m an only child who has an only child, and this causes me to hover sometimes.

  “I get it,” Gavin says. “But from the little interchange I’ve had with him, he seems like a great kid, and with you as his mother, he can’t go wrong.” Gavin praises. “He’s only twelve. How much mischief could he get into?”

  “How much trouble did you cause when you were twelve?” I question, tipping up a brow. Gavin chuckles in response, accepting Gee could do any number of things. However, Gee is a good kid, and I need to allow him to grow and spread his wings.

  A quick text confirms he’s still at the carnival. A second text to Theo backs up Gee’s answer. When the fireworks are over, Gee is to meet me at the car behind the shop.

  “Why don’t you leave your car for Theo to drive him home? I can take you to your place instead.” Gavin glances down at his empty beer bottle, twirling it back and forth on the table. “Or you could come to the condo for a bit. With a third-floor balcony, you’d have a spectacular view of the fireworks.”

  I should say no. Everything in me tells me this is a bad idea, but when Gavin looks up at me, hesitant and hopeful, I cave.

  “Let me see if that works for Theo.”

  + + +

  Gavin drives us the short distance to his place on the inner lake, and we climb the three flights to his rental. My heart hammers in my chest as nerves eat at me. I haven’t purposely been alone with a man in years.

  After we enter his place, Gavin casually drops his keys on the kitchen counter that separates the kitchen from the living room. He tosses his coat on the couch and suggests he change. As I’m wearing a casual dress I wore throughout the day while I worked, I only slip off my shoes. Gavin walks to the balcony doors first, opening them wide despite the air conditioning.

  “Make yourself at home. I’ll be right back.”

  I step outside to the balcony, enjoying the heightened breeze and the onset of a summer night. A change is coming, and I feel it in the air temperature. Fall will be here too soon. A new school year will begin for Gee. A seasonal shift will happen in TeasMe! Life will go on, and Gavin will be gone again.

  With a beer in hand, wearing shorts and a T-shirt, he finds me on the balcony. I haven’t seen him up close in casual attire since his arrival, and my mouth fights the jaw drop. Thrown back thirteen years, he looks more like a
college grad than a polished filmmaker.

  “Want one? Or we can share this? I wasn’t expecting company, so I don’t have the makings for a margarita,” he teases.

  “I don’t need another, or I can’t be held responsible for my actions.” It’s flirty, sassy, and provoking, and I instantly want to take it back because I shouldn’t be flirting with Gavin. Warning bells have been ringing all night, and I keep suppressing the sound. Especially when Gavin touches me, like when he takes my hand and leads me to a lounger on the balcony.

  “I won’t hold you responsible for any poor decisions,” he teases as he sits on the lounger, spreading his legs over the edges of the elongated seat. He pats the space between his thighs. “I’ll take full responsibility for being bad.”

  “Gavin,” I groan, turning to notice a regular outdoor chair nearby and a small side table beside it. His hand still holds mine, and he squeezes my fingers.

  “Sit with me, Candy.” The sound of his voice turns back the clock even more, and I’m reminded of all the ways Gavin kept me close to him in the back of his truck when we went to field parties or sitting on the couch in Leo’s living room.

  I fold before him, trying to keep distance between us, but Gavin isn’t having it, tugging me back so my backside cradles against him.

  “Relax,” he whispers as he pulls me by my shoulder to lean against his chest. His fingers work the nape of my neck, and I close my eyes, melting under his touch. His lips come to my neck next. Flinching at how his kiss tickles, he pauses, holding his mouth only an inch from my skin.

  “I want to touch you everywhere, Brit, but I won’t push. Just let me kiss you here.” Holding my breath, I don’t respond, but I don’t push him away either, and his mouth returns to the side of my neck.

  Gavin was the first to discover the spot on me that could make my knees weak, and he seems to remember the place because he nips at the juncture of my neck and shoulder, causing my head to tip to the side, allowing him more access to my skin. I also arch my back a little, forcing my backside against the budding bulge in his shorts. While his mouth moves over my neck, his fingers massage my shoulder. Caressing over my back with a soothing touch, he spares no inch of skin around my nape. Eventually, his hand cups my chin, turning my head to gain access to my lips.

  He slides a hand down the underside of my arm and brings it up and around his neck, wordlessly asking me to hold onto him. We kiss in this position for several minutes, savoring one another, reminiscing in the familiarity from a time long passed.

  When the first strike of fireworks rips through the sky, I break from Gavin and look in the general direction of the larger lake. Over the distant trees, a burst of white speckles the sky. The performance enhances the hammering in my chest as Gavin’s fingers slide down my underarm, still pinned around his neck and lower to the side of my breast. The swell aches for his massaging touch there as well, and he does not disappoint, making his move to cover me, squeezing the heaviness.

  My head lolls on his shoulder, allowing him to have his way with me as it feels so good. The subtle squeeze. The sharp pinch to my nipple.

  “Brit,” he groans in my neck, weighing the mass in his hand. “How long has it been since someone touched you? Since someone made you feel special?” His voice lowers, dropping deep and rough while quiet below my ear. He sucks at the side of my neck, not losing pace with attending my breast.

  “It’s been a long time,” I admit, my voice cracking on the thought and fighting off the memories. It’s been three years since Patrick’s death and at least a year before that due to his illness. My eyes close against the reminders.

  “Let me be your first,” he whispers.

  “You always were,” I remind him, my voice shaky with the admission. Gavin was my first in many ways. First love. First sex. First heartbreak.

  His hand coasts down my midsection while the fireworks break through the hushed night. Gavin and I are in our own private alcove of quiet. His breath in my ear is the only sound I hear.

  His hand curls between my thighs, spreading my legs a little. My legs were crossed at the ankles, stretched before me, but separating them, he brings one knee to bend. Gavin slowly tugs at the material of my skirt, exposing my skin inch by inch. Once enough leg is uncovered, he wraps a hand under my thigh and tugs my leg upward, forcing me to spread even wider. My heel presses into the lounger as his hand skims along my inner thigh until his fingers brush against the plait of my underwear, already damp with the heat he’s created in me.

  He moans into my neck, kissing me under my ear while stroking over my hot center.

  “Let me touch you.” He’s asking for more, and I respond by turning my head and taking his mouth with mine. One arm remains up around his neck, and I hold the back of his head, giving him my unspoken answer. I can’t tell him no. I want this too much. My body screams for the relief only he can give me. While still kissing him, his fingers slip under the elastic and meet sensitive skin slick with desire.

  I gasp at his touch, breaking the kiss, while Gavin mutters, “So wet. All for me.”

  I nod to agree, almost embarrassed at how eager I am for his touch. His fingers slide up and down through the moisture before landing on my clit, and my back bows. A loud hum rumbles up my throat, and Gavin smiles against me. His mouth moves to my shoulder, kissing over it while one finger slides into me.

  We collectively moan.

  “Feel good, Brit.” I’m not certain if he’s telling me how I feel to him, or how he wants me to feel, or just what feeling to have, but his finger inside me, sliding back and forth, is more than good. It’s incredible. Quickly, he adds a second finger, and my hips begin to rock. My other arm joins the one around Gavin’s neck, holding onto him to keep me tethered to him. My body floats outside itself. With both knees bent and my thighs open wide, resting above his, I grind against the fingers rushing in and out of me. My moans match the light display with sharp bursts and prolonged sizzles until I can’t hold Gavin any longer. My arms fall, hands clutching at the armrests of the lounger.

  “Gavin,” I groan his name, desperate to shatter. His thumb strokes up to my clit, and that’s all it takes to detonate. As the fireworks blast, my insides rocket to a release like no other. A million particles of lightness break within me. With a hiss, my head tips back while I arch away from his chest and clamp my knees together. I ride his fingers, holding his arm trapped between my thighs.

  “Fuck,” Gavin moans behind me, clearly watching me use his touch to get myself off. When I can’t take it anymore, my knees fall open, and I reach for his wrist. He pauses.

  “Give me another one,” he whispers, but I shake my head. I’ve never . . . and I don’t think I have the energy for a second release, feeling spent from the first incredible orgasm I’ve had in years. Instead, I turn for his mouth once more, shifting enough to face him better and cup his scruff-covered jaw. Kissing him, I try to tell him everything. My appreciation of this moment, even when I don’t deserve it. My apology for holding back the information he deserves to know. My plea of forgiveness that he won’t hate me when I finally tell him the truth.

  As I break away, tears threaten my eyes. The liquid burn is a mixture of what just happened and what will come next.

  “Gavin, I need to—”

  “Shh,” he says, rubbing the pad of his thumb over my lower lip and returning to kiss me as the finale of the fireworks explodes on the horizon. When loud cheers and echoing applause, along with the extended honks of boat horns, signal the end of the show, I pull back from Gavin.

  “I should go,” I whisper, but I shift on the lounger, hesitantly reaching for the waist of his shorts. I want to reciprocate in some manner for what he’s just done to me.

  “No, Brit,” he says, his voice stern. He catches my wrist before I touch him. “That was for you.”

  “But I owe you, for ditching you at dinner, for actual dinner, and this.” I look up at him, and his eyes fall to my lips.

  “I never want you
to think you owe me anything. This was all my selfish pleasure.” He smiles slowly and leans forward, taking my lips one more time before gently pressing at me to move away from him. “However, I only have so much patience, so let’s get you home before Gee.”

  My shoulders drop as my heart falls to the pit of my stomach.

  Before Gee.

  Actually, Gee before everything else.

  I close my eyes and nod to agree. I need to go home and process what I’ve done.

  Take 14

  Scene: The Baseball Field Again

  [Gavin]

  Holy shit.

  I can’t believe she let me touch her like that. The position of her in my arms, the scent of her sweet skin, it was all too familiar despite the decades that have passed.

  However, I’m now concerned about the quiet woman riding next to me to her house. Did I push too much? Did we go too fast? I feel myself spiraling out of control, like an unwinding clock. I’m losing time with each passing day, and I’m rushing to speed up the process of regaining her attention, regaining her affection for me.

  I reach for her hand, curling my fingers with hers, afraid to let her go. The sensation feels so similar to when we were young. I’d drive her home, holding her hand, not wanting to reach her uncle’s house too soon, not wanting to let her out of the truck. Unfortunately, as I circle the dark lake, we do reach her place quickly.

  The tires of the rental creep over the gravel drive, and I place the car in park. Shifting, I lift her hand and kiss her knuckles.

  “What are you thinking?” Her silence has unnerved me. Is she regretting what we’ve done? She’s holding back from me, hesitating on the verge of something I can’t read from her, and I want to read her again. I want to know her responses, her sounds, her movements, her meanings. I want to know it all, and I try to warn myself to keep things in check. Am I too wrapped up in memories? Is this nostalgia drawing me to her? Or is this something fresh, undiscovered, and the thing I’ve been longing for? In some ways, it’s all of the above. I want something new, something real, and Britton has always been those things to me.