Erin’s here with Til. She left her husband.
Cole
You tell her how you feel?
It’s too soon.
Life doesn’t always give us enough time to say what we need to. You can’t keep waiting.
I trusted my brother to understand better than anyone how precious every second of life was, but…
The timingwaswrong.
I needed to fight the “I love you” threatening to blurt out every time I looked at Erin. I was reading too much into how her dark eyes lingered on me or how she let me hold her a little too long. She didn’t have feelings for me. She couldn’t. Slick, polished city guys caught her eye. Sure, I had plenty of money, and I scrubbed up okay, but there weren’t many places nearby to wine and dine a girl as classy as Erin—unless the annual church potluck counted.
And who was I, really?
I was the second-born son who’d been handed his dreams because everyone else’s life had turned to shit. The fields of fledgling crops spreading to the horizon were mine because Colelost his childhood sweetheart. If I ever coaxed Erin into my bed, it would be because the man she loved first broke her heart.
For once, Cole was wrong. Erin deserved a chance to live her life without me weighing her down with the pressure of my feelings.
I could wait.
Callan
Miss you, Cole.
Cole
Miss you too, runt.
You’re not going to tell her, are you?
Not today.
But that almost kiss…
I ignored the tug in my chest begging me to run to the cottage and rest my tired eyes on her smile. When I’d waved the last of the workers home for the day, I headed straight to the house. Hat off. Boots off. I just needed to get through the back door and to my room.
Bronte’s head snapped up from the pile of papers spread over the kitchen island when I powered through without saying hi.
“Hey, Cal—”
“Sorry, Bron. Gimme a second. I just need to…”Get off. “I’ll wash up, and then you can talk to me about your latest amazing idea, yeah?”
Bronte’s eyebrow arched, but she shrugged and went back to fussing with the mess.
Hidden, locked in the bathroom, I stripped off my work shirt. Sweat clung to my skin—not from the hours working in the fieldsbut from thinking too much abouther. I flipped on the faucet, water tumbling from the showerhead, and yanked off the rest of my clothes. My body was on fire. But when I stepped into the shower, the ice-cold water pelting my back was no relief.
My shoulder slouched against the painted duck feature trim Mim just had to have, and I screwed my eyes shut, my hand working up and down my cock to ease the tension that had been ripping me open at the seams all day. Not quickly, though. The torture of my thoughts made it better. I enjoyed taking my time when I thought about the woman who only loved me in my dreams.
It had been four years since I’d been with someone. I wouldn’t have felt right taking another woman to my bed once I admitted my heart belonged to Erin. No loss. My hand and the distant hope of her leaving that walking bag of upmarket wind she called ahusbandhad been enough. No one compared to my girl.
I bit back the groan threatening to echo off the tiles.
If Erin were mine, I’d drag her back to the forest, just the two of us. I’d twist her dark hair around my hand and pull her close enough to get her silky, wine-tinged breath on my lips instead of my neck. Her sexy smile would tease me into kissing her everywhere… I’d get my hands on every inch of her… Watch her drop to her knees in front of me…
An intense shudder of pleasure raced down my spine when my fantasy finally tipped me over the edge. But after I scrubbed off the day’s work and dressed in fresh clothes, a look of disgust reflected at me in the mirror.
