Owen exhaled a short laugh. “Congratulations, Granddad. You’ve bested the lesser mind in the room.”
Walter nodded, deeply satisfied. “Damn right I have.”
But Owen wasn’t looking at him. His eyes were on me.
And in them, I could clearly read the unspoken word—inevitable.
20
Owen
THE HOUSE WAS SILENT. Walter was asleep. But I was still awake, wired—because I knew, with the same certainty as a goal just before I launched it to the back of the net, that this riptide was stronger than me.
Stronger than the cost.
Rio wasn’t just anyone. She was Simon’s sister. His family. The one line I swore I’d never cross again.
Yet, here I was, unable to resist, shunning the risk.
I couldn’t stay away. And neither would she.
21
Rio
THE SILENCE WAS THICK, like the house was holding its breath.
I took one last swig of water in the kitchen, my pulse still elevated from the run, then turned off the light and headed upstairs.
I almost expected him to be there, waiting. But he wasn’t.
Disappointment washed over me like a tide. My body, by now, was charged with longing.
I turned to my room though every part of me yearned to head to his door.Take control over the situation. Initiate.My speech therapy taught me about more than just uttering words.
Yet, my legs couldn’t carry me across the hall.
Owen wasn’t the kind you stopped wanting, or one who would fade from your thoughts and heart, no matter how much time passed. Worse, he was the type you only craved more of the more you had.
I was in my shorts and tee, fresh from the shower, with the bedside light on and a lavender candle—my ownproduct—burning its calming scent and glow on the dresser, when the rap on my door tore through the silence.
I opened it and Owen filled the frame.
Mine.
We glanced at each other for one drawn-out moment, like the second before a storm breaks. I could hear the thunder, only it wasn’t outside—it was inside me, pounding in my chest, gushing through my veins.
With our eyes still locked together, he smoothed the back of his hand down my arm, splayed his palms on my waist, and pulled me to him, like he knew resistance was only temporary.
He was right.
My mouth was on his before my next breath.
The gravity I’d been fighting all day finally won.
My first time with him I had been new, hesitant. But this—this was something else. This was wildfire—unstoppable, all consuming.
Owen crushed me to him and moved forward, his mouth fused to mine. Like the wall of muscle and strength he was, he didn’t stumble as he walked us backward into the room, kicking the door shut behind us.
