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Jolting forward, I clasp at my chest. My eyes won’t adjust to the darkness and I’m frantic to see. A wrecked sob tears through as I search for where I am. Tears pour from my eyes and through the dark haze of the night, light flitters in.
“Shh.” Searching hands find me. They pull me forward and into his warm body. “I’ve got you. You’re okay.”
“I’m not. I’m not okay,” I cry out, pulling my hands from his and touching all over my body, trying to find the origin of the blood.
“What are you looking for?” Ragged breaths leave my lungs. Preston holds me and rocks me in his arms. As much as I try to pull away, he holds me tighter. “There’s nothing on you.”
“I need to wipe it off,” I whisper in defeat.
“There’s nothing there.” He lifts me his lap, and I curl into him. My whole body goes limp. I allow him to soothe me.
Slowly, my pulse regulates and I take smaller pulls of oxygen. When I’m finally breathing normally, he lifts my jaw to look at him. His brows are knitted, and he looks sad as one finger reaches out and swipes at a tear that runs down my cheek.
“What can I do?” he implores.
“Just hold me.”
“I can do that.” And he does. He holds me. He holds me until all the tears drain from my eyes. Until every last bit of panic has passed. His heart beats against my back and eventually it slows to a soft lull. Looking up, I see he’s fallen asleep with me in his arms. My heart is full. He takes care of me. Never have I felt so safe. Cared for. In his embrace the world stills, and it’s just him and me and nothing else matters.
When I’m sure he’s fully asleep, I creep out of bed, moving quietly to not wake him. I grab my purse and pull out my notebook. Perching at the end of the bed, I sit and stare. Every move, every breath I take note of—recording them in my heart and memory to always cherish. The feeling pulsing through me right now for this man is so concrete and absolute. I’m falling for him, and every moment I spend with him, my emotions become more complicated. Because this isn’t just sex. This isn’t something I can get out of my system.
There is no removing Preston Montgomery from my system. He’s embedded so deeply inside me I fear I have no hope but to one day fall in love with this man.
LAST NIGHT I sat and watched Preston sleep, and somewhere between the inhale and exhale of his breath he pulled me against him and I drifted off to sleep. As my eyes flutter open, he looks across the bed at me. He’s studying me.
“What?”
“I’m watching you.”
“Creepy much,” I groan, but in my head I’m laughing. Pot, meet kettle. “Stop looking at me. I probably look like a mess.”
“You know what makes you so beautiful? That you don’t know how beautiful you are.”
“I do not look beautiful right now.”
“Baby, no matter what you do, you could never not be beautiful.”
My eyes widen, first at his statement, then at the moniker. Both make me melt in equal measure. Warmth spreads across my cheeks.
“Thanks.”
“Come here.” His voice is husky. It makes me want to run to him, but first I have to brush my teeth. No matter how much I want him right now, making myself presentable is my number one priority. I move to leave the bed and two firm arms bracket themselves around my waist.
“Hey.”
“Where do you think you’re going?” Preston’s arms trail up from behind as his face buries in my neck. His breath fans my skin, and the feeling is incredible. It causes goose bumps to prickle my skin.
Soft kisses first, and then his tongue licks with abandon.
When he circles the back of my neck, my whole body shivers. As much as I need to get up from the bed, this man renders me completely useless as he drops kisses down the length of my spine.
Before I know what’s happening, I’m flipped over to my back and Preston is hovering over me. He leans down and plants a series of kisses over my abdomen. His tongue traces a path down to my belly button, then to my pelvis . . . and across my hipbone.
Small kisses.
Soft nips.
“What is it about your skin?” he mutters into my body.
All of a sudden, Preston lifts my legs to rest over his shoulders. He opens my body to him. His fingers press deep inside me in tempo with his masterful tongue. My breathing becomes erratic.
I feel myself come apart as he feasts upon me.
“That’s it, baby,” he mumbles against my body as I become lost in my pleasure and explode.
When I come down from my high, he’s just staring at me.
“What about you?” My lip lifts into a small smile.
“That was for me.” A deliciously sexy smirk spreads against his face. Who is this man? He’s so different from the Preston I was falling for before. Lord, am I in trouble. Screwed, really. Because heaven knows I was not prepared to guard my heart against this Preston. This Preston owns me already and it’s only been one day.
Together we shower. This time we’re in and out. No distractions. Preston was determined to not let me have my way with him, claiming I needed breakfast.
After breakfast of our favorite—waffles—we find ourselves sitting in Adirondack chairs on the large sprawling lawn that appears to cascade down into the sea. The view is awe-inspiring, as we have a panoramic view of the ocean below crashing upon the beach.
“Are you cold?” Preston inquiries from beside me. My arms are pulled tightly around me, but inside my coat I’m not cold. Just comfortable. It’s been so long since I felt this peaceful that even if it were the dead of winter, I wouldn’t move.
“I’m perfect.” He leans across the space separating our chairs and captures my lips. His are soft as they gently nudge my lips to part. I tremble in his mouth. It might only be one kiss, but I am lost, and if this is what lost feels like, I never want to be found.
Our faces pull apart and our eyes lock.
In his gaze I see the possibility of more, and the thought scares me. How am I supposed to let him go? How can I let someone go who makes me feel so much?
He makes me feel beautiful. He makes me feel special. He makes me feel free.
“You happy?” he asks.
“Beyond.” I smile back.
“Good, because this is only the beginning. I have a whole day planned for us.” He jumps up and reaches his hands out toward me. As I stretch mine out to him, a part of me wants to pull back. Freeze time. Once I get up, the end has started. Like tiny sand grains slowly spilling. The end is near.
I decide that I won’t dwell on what the future brings. Instead, I plaster on the biggest smile in the world and vow that Preston will never see my inner thoughts. We walk in the direction of the main building, but instead of going inside, he asks for the keys to his car. Once inside, he grabs my hand in his and squeezes lightly.
“Since we never left the cottage last night, I thought it would be nice to see Newport.”
“I would have been fine staying inside.” I bat my eyelids and he laughs.
“I’m sure you would have.”
“So, what’s there to do in Newport?”
“Well, typically it’s more of a beach town, but I figured we would do a bit of sightseeing. Then we can grab lunch.”
“Sounds like a great plan.”
A few minutes later we pull into the quaint seaside town. Historic buildings line the streets and I can see how lovely it would be in the summer. Although the weather is losing much of its chill, it will still be months before Newport is in its full glory. Preston pulls the car into a parking spot, and then like a perfect gentleman, comes around to my side to help me out. My hair whips against my face as the ocean breeze picks up.
I pull my light coat tighter around me as he rests an arm over my shoulder, bundling me to him. His heat radiates through the material, warming me instantly.
With each store we pass, we peek inside, looking over the cute accessories and knick-knacks Newport has to offer.
Removi
ng Preston’s arm from around me, I make my way to the opposite wall of a shop we’re investigating. My fingertips trail over glass apothecary jars on the shelf. I pick one up and study the image. When my eyes roam the room, I see Preston walk toward the register. He has something in his hand but I can’t see what it is. The sales woman is quick to wrap it, and charges his card by the time I make it over to him. When he turns around, the beginning of a smile tips the corner of his mouth when he sees me. Exiting the store, Preston grabs my hand and I turn towards him.
“There’s a great little lunch restaurant down the block. Are you hungry yet?” he asks.
“I can always eat.”
Along the way we pop into a few more stores to shop, and all the while Preston continues to hold my hand—as if we’re couple on a romantic trip, and not a doctor and his patient stealing a moment in time. The caress of his soft fingers makes me want to believe the lie.
Once we cross the street, I spot the restaurant, but before we step in I notice that right next door is a quaint little bookstore. It’s perfect. The outside of the building has a whimsical look to it. Painted mushrooms decorate the plate glass windows and giant flowers accent the front façade.
“I need to go in there. There’s a book I’m dying to get.” I announce and together we walk into Book Time. Stepping inside, I’m transported into a faraway world. It’s a darling little store with Alice in Wonderland themed décor. It even has little tables for tea service. Pulling my hand from Preston’s, I head straight to the section that houses the Young Adult new releases. He follows a step behind. As I step forward to grab the book I came to purchase, so does Preston. My hand brushes against his, sending an electric shock through my body.
His touch is intoxicating, enticing . . . primal.
His dazzling blue eyes meet mine, showing me he’s feeling the same connection and thinking the same thoughts as me. That I want to put my hand back on his. Touch him again. Relive that feeling when our hands and body connected. But we’re in a bookstore, so I calm my growing hunger by looking at the stack of books in front of us.
“I didn’t know you read YA.”
“YA?”
“Young Adult. Obviously. I didn’t know you read young adult books.”
He laughs at my silly comment. “I don’t, I just wanted to see the cover, I didn’t know you read YA?” He winks.
“They’re the best!” I exclaim and a smile lines his face from my excitement. Butterflies fly in my stomach at the sight. That spark when our hands touched has rendered me useless—and apparently melted all the strength I have to keep my distance.
He laughs again. This time it’s a boisterous laugh and it warms my heart. “Little old for flying witches, aren’t you?”
