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Her pulse rushed.
Yes, she had to be seeing things.
Because there was no way the man in her driveway, the one who disappeared for two weeks without a word, would simply show up without warning.
The man who left her alone in her bed with only a text that said “Love you,” to keep her company.
The man who made her sick to her stomach with worry thinking he was lying somewhere dead. Alone. Somewhere where his brothers—who kept searching for him, because they also worried—couldn’t find him.
Yes, she had to be imagining him in her driveway.
Just to be sure, she smashed her foot on her Subaru’s accelerator, making the tires chirp as she swung her station wagon like a mad woman into her driveway. She slammed on the brakes next to the motorcycle that kept showing up in her dreams.
She didn’t even take the time to park her car in the garage. She barely took the time to shut off the engine, or even make sure it was in Park, before she kicked the driver’s door open and bolted from the seat.
He barely got to his feet in time before she hit him.
Not with a stinging smack across his face, since he deserved that for disappearing for two whole weeks. No, she hit him full force with her body instead, almost knocking him backwards with the impact.
Her hand clamped around the back of his neck, the other drove roughly into his curls at the back of his head, fisting his hair tightly. Then she hit him with her mouth.
He accepted her tongue, her whimper and then the sob that rushed up from the bottom of her gut.
She didn’t let go. Not of his mouth, not of his neck, not of his hair, for the longest time. Not that he fought to be free. Instead, he clutched her ass with both hands and lifted her against him until she was practically on her toes.
The deep, gaping hole in her chest began to fill. With warmth and relief, and so much more.
She had the urge to hit him, to weep, to laugh and then hit him again.
She did none of that. She only kept kissing him and holding on because she was afraid this was all a fantasy.
That he wasn’t really here. Or if she let go, he’d disappear.
That was when she realized why he’d left without warning. He didn’t tell her because she never would’ve let him go. Wherever he went, whatever he did, she would’ve tried to convince him not to go there, not to do what he felt needed to be done.
The hard truth was, that wasn’t her decision. It was his alone.
Hopefully, whatever the reason why he left was done and he was back for good.
She reluctantly released his mouth when he pulled back slightly. Only enough so they could both breathe.
She tipped her head back a little more, hoping the thought that popped into her head was wrong. “Wait. You’re not here to say goodbye, are you?”
“Not unless you want me to.”
It had been only two weeks and she couldn’t believe how much she’d missed his voice. Gravel coated in honey. God, she’d missed him desperately.
So, no, him leaving was not what she wanted. “I can assure you, if I wanted that, I wouldn’t have greeted you the way I did.”
“Just sayin’, better not be greetin’ other men like that. Crushin’ your tits into their chest, your mouth doin’ its magic and then slippin’ them the tongue. Givin’ them a hard-on like I got now.”
She raised her eyebrows and feigned shock. “Oh, I might have to apologize to the dishwasher repairman.”
“Not funny, Chelle,” he growled.
“Neither was you disappearing like that.”
He pressed his forehead to hers and breathed, “Yeah.” A couple pounding beats of her heart later he added softly, “Didn’t mean to worry you.”
“But you did. I expect you won’t do it again. My heart can’t take it.” She pressed her face into his neck and clung to him tightly, her hands fisting in the thermal shirt he wore under the two layers of black leather. A jacket and his cut. “I thought I was never getting a chance to say goodbye.”
“It wasn’t a goodbye.”
“But I didn’t know that. Don’t make me live through that ever again. Please. If you plan to just up and leave one day, please say goodbye first. It’ll hurt, but I would need to see you one last time.”
“Not sayin’ goodbye, Chelle. Ain’t ever sayin’ goodbye. Leavin’ you would be like carving away a piece of me.”
She wanted to believe that. But after the last time... “You left without a word.” She didn’t bother to hide the hurt in her accusation. His disappearance had upset her, and he needed to know just how much.
“Sent you a text.”
“That said nothing.”
“Said a lot.”
“Not enough, Shade. It wasn’t enough.”
