“Then I’ll be reckless,” he murmured. “If that’s what it takes.”
Thunder cracked again, closer now, rattling the windowpanes.
But Violet didn’t flinch this time.
She didn’t look away.
Not from the sincerity in his eyes.
Not from the rainwater sliding down his cheek like a tear.
Not from the man she had once loved with every tender piece of herself.
The room felt suddenly too small.
Too warm.
Too full of everything she’d tried so hard not to feel.
Violet’s breath hitched as she took a step toward him.
“William…” she said—meant as a warning, but it fell apart the moment it left her lips.
He moved closer as well—slow, deliberate—as if giving her every heartbeat to turn away.
“I had to know you were all right,” he said softly.
But it wasn’t all.
They both knew it.
They both felt it.
She took another step—closing the scant space between them until her breath mingled with his.
The air between them pulsed—thick, alive, electric as the storm roaring outside.
Her pulse hammered.
Her hands curled at her sides.
Every wall she’d rebuilt over five long years trembled under the weight of memory… longing… fear… want.
She whispered, almost against her will—
“Why do you keep doing this?”
Rain-chilled hands slid to her waist, drawing her closer as he lowered his head toward hers, his breath warm against her lips as he murmured,
“You know why.”
Then his mouth found hers, and five years of buried longing surged between them in a single, devastating kiss.
William groaned and held her tighter, kissing her like a man finally holding everything he had ever wanted.
Her back hit the wall with a soft thud.
This was nothing like the tender, breathless moments beneath their old oak tree.
