She feels farther away from me as she turns back to look out across the land in front of us. I stand next to her and look out as well, trying to imagine seeing it for the first time.
This view has been part of my life, this place which has always felt like home, for so long and I’ve forgotten how to appreciate it over the years. Now, I have a new reason to see it again.
If I wasn’t here when Graycie showed up, even if she’s running from someone, I would have missed out on her coming into my life.
I wasn’t exactly prepared for her.
I never expected her.
I was sure I would never find the right woman to stand by my side.
But then she walked through the back door of the clubhouse, and everything shifted.
While keeping my eyes on the view, I coax her, “Do you want to tell me about your past?”
She tries to pull her hand out of mine, but I don’t let go. I can almost feel the panic rising inside of her and it makes my chest ache.
“You don’t have to tell me anything,” I murmur the words, hoping to put her at ease. I much prefer it when she’s relaxed and not getting lost in the past. “I get that you’re running from something, Angel.”
Her shoulders curl forward, her voice defensive, “What makes you think I’m running from something?”
I shoot her a look as if she’s not fooling anyone. “There are times when you act like a caged animal who just found out you’re free after being locked away for too long,” I tell her gently.
Her throat moves when she swallows hard while her lips part as if she’s going to say more. But the words don’t come.
“It’s okay,” I murmur. “You don’t have to tell me now, but I hope one day you trust me enough to let me in on what brought you here to me.” When I turn toward her, she mirrors the action and I can see the way she’s fighting with herself in her hazel eyes. “I think you came here to find me, even if you didn’t realize it at the time.”
Awe fills her words, like she’s afraid to believe she heard me correctly, “You think I came here to find you?”
“How else would you have found me?” I ask while grinning down at her. “And I know I needed you to come into my life, Angel. I wasn’t ready for you,” I admit, “and I wasn’t expecting you, but here you are all the same. We’ll take this slow, at your pace, but this thing between us is happening.”
“You sound so sure of yourself,” her words aren’t accusatory, more curious, and maybe a little jealous.
“I am sure of you.” I rub my chest with my free hand; the action is more absent than purposeful. “And I’m sure I’ll protect you if you give me the chance.”
“I want to believe you,” her words are edged with pain.
My hand comes up and cups her cheek, and I revel in how soft her skin is for a moment. “You don’t have to believe me right now,” I whisper. Our faces drift closer and my mouth hovers over hers. I want to give her the chance to pull away if she wants to. “Let me show you.”
When she nods slightly, I close the distance between us. At first our lips meet with the tentative softness of a first kiss. I realize, with stunning clarity, this is the last first kiss either of us are going to get.
I want to take it slow with her. She deserves to feel the way I worship her in the press of my lips against hers.
Graycie’s fingers curl around the edge of my cut as she feeds me a small moan while her body melts into mine. My arms band around her body, holding her steady and as close to me as I can. I want to deepen the kiss, but I hold back.
Then her tongue slides along my bottom lip and I’m a fucking goner.
My tongue pushes its way into her mouth to explore and play until I have to pull away with the need to breathe. I press my forehead against hers, every breath of mine mixing with one of hers; just how they are meant to be.
I watch her carefully and feel the primal urge to always see her as she is now—flushed with desire, her eyes closed with something like satisfaction, and her lips swollen with the evidence of how good I made her feel.
When her eyes slowly open, I’m already looking at her.
This time when I kiss her, I keep it chaste. But it’s not fucking easy to do.
I want to allow my hands to roam all over her body, but I don’t let them.
As I kiss her a third time, she tenses slightly in my arms. I would have expected the move to sting, but it doesn’t. She’s been hurt, I don’t know by who or the extent, but that much is obvious.