With this woman, I could be me—right here, in the now.
“Fallon,” she hummed, body spasming as a slow shudder of arousal sent waves of ecstasy climbing up my spine.
“I’m here. I’ve always been right here.” I placed a hand over her hammering heart. “You took my heart with you when you left, Augusta Belle. Had it stashed safely away this whole time until we could come together again.”
Her eyes flared with overpowering emotion, cupping my face with her hands before our lips connected and she showed me she was feelin’ exactly the same sorta way I was. “I love you, Fallon.”
Working the pads of my fingers between us, I found the hot little bundle of nerves that sent her eyes rolling, neck arching, fingernails digging into my shoulders as spasm after spasm of decadent pleasure overtook her.
I watched riveted, hopeless when my own release pummeled through every nerve of my body. Our slick skin moving together was the soundtrack to our love before our hearts were the only bass line we heard, our bodies melding together as the water and the bubbles eased away the outside world, our own bubble growing as my hands traced her skin, her lips working against mine, our souls refusing to let go of the solace we’d finally found.
Drunk on each other.
TWENTY-EIGHT
Fallon
“Mmm, mornin’, sunshine.”
She was sitting atop a picnic table, bathed in beautiful morning light, notebook spread in her lap.
“Mornin’, Gentry.” She flicked her eyes up, shining with somethin’ so brilliant I couldn’t help but be a little blinded.
“Looks like someone had a good night.” I plopped myself on the warm wood beside her, enjoying the way being in the sun and her presence made somethin’ deep inside me warm from the core out.
Augusta Belle had a light so bright, not even life’s darkest days could dim her.
Hell, maybe that’s the thing I loved about her most.
Or more likely, it was just one in a long line of things that made me hers.
I might pretend to be six foot five and bulletproof, but the woman I’d found tryin’ to leap off the Whiskey River Bridge that day so many years ago could bring me to my knees with just a look.
“I actually had the best night ever, thanks to this growly Southern rocker guy I know.”
I barked a laugh, hauling her into my lap and letting the notebook fall onto the table between us. She worked her hips against mine, lips locking as her teeth caught my flesh and dragged. “He’s the moodiest, sweetest, kindest soul I know, and I just have to make peace with the fact that he’s way cooler than I am.”
“Don’t forget most talented,” I offered, locking a hand in her hair and pulling her against my lips in a deeper kiss. “Never lettin’ you go again, Augusta Belle. Not over my dead body.”
“Good,” she whispered, voice clogged with vulnerable emotion. “Because I don’t think I could stand it again.”
I swallowed, lifting her in my arms and carrying her right back through the French doors and into that king bed to show her how much I loved her all over again. Somethin’ I’d never get sick of doin’ for as long as I walked this earth.
Lovin’ Augusta Belle came easier than breathin‘.
* * *
By the time her tummy was rumbling a few hours later, we were both freshly showered and changed, prepared to drop off a load of clothes with the dry cleaner, my preferred method of doing laundry since the day I started livin’ out of my truck, and then we had plans to visit the address printed on that envelope.
Lucedale Court.
Augusta Belle had searched for a phone number, but after half a dozen failed calls and countless no-answers, we decided the only other option we had was to knock on doors.
Augusta Belle’s hand gripped mine after we’d slid out of the truck, eyes peering up at the big house ahead of us. “You think this is it?”
“Tire swing in the yard, baseball bat…” I mused, eyes taking in the otherwise tidy front lawn. “Looks like a boy lives here.”
“The neighborhood is great,” she murmured, both of our gazes taking in the elegant colonials that lined the quiet neighborhood street. “Maybe we should just leave this. Look, it may not even be him, and what could we possibly say to make any sort of sense of what happened?” She looked up, eyes terrified and trained on mine.
