Our chatter was sprinkled with shared laughter and moments of lighthearted silence. The chemistry between us was undeniable, an electric current that seemed to grow stronger with each passing minute.
After a while, we reached a secluded spot with a stunning view of the distant mountains. Winston dismounted and helped me down from Blaze, his hands lingering on my waist.
“Shall we take a moment?” he asked, his eyes locking on to mine.
“Sure,” I replied, my heart racing, afraid of being close to him just as much as I craved it.
We sat on a large, flat rock, the sun warming our faces. Winston pulled out some chilled water from his saddlebags, chunks of ice still floating inside the bottles. He sat next to me, our bodies almost touching and our eyes lost in the distance.
“Tell me something you’ve never told anyone,” Winston said, his voice low and intimate. He took off his hat and shades, and put them by his side. His eyes were warm and kind. Perhaps it was that kindness that drew me to him.
I hesitated, then smiled. “I used to sneak out at night to stargaze. It was my way of escaping, even if just for a little while.” In that moment, I thought of Colton. A flicker of memory, a life that could have been but never was. I wondered, for the first time in a long time, if he ever thought of me. The ache wasn’t sharp, not anymore. It was softer, worn smooth over time. A quiet pull of nostalgia, a reminder of why I had left him. A subtle warning.
“That’s beautiful,” Winston said, his voice softening. “I’ve always believed that the stars hold our secrets. Of course, there’s no science behind that, but I just like to think they do.”
The moment felt perfect, like a scene from a movie. Winston leaned closer, his gaze dropping to my lips. I felt a surge of emotion, a mix of desire and fear. For a split second, I dared ask myself,What if?
But I already knew the answer.
“Olivia,” he whispered, his voice husky. “I can’t stop thinking about you.”
My heart pounded as he leaned in to kiss me, but I placed a hand on his chest, stopping him gently. It was what I had to do, and yet it felt wrong, my heart rebelling against it with fast, breathtaking beats.
“Winston, we can’t, not anymore,” I said, my voice trembling. “You’re married. I’m more of a friend ... or I should be.” My throat thickened. “We have so much in common, and I love our time together, but ... there’s someone waiting for you back home.”
He looked at me with a mix of surprise and hurt in his eyes. “I understand,” he said slowly, pulling back. “I’m sorry if I’ve made you uncomfortable.”
I wiped at a tear with my fingertips. “It’s not that,” I replied, struggling to keep my emotions in check. “I just ... I can’t do this. It’s not right.”
We sat in silence for a while, the atmosphere heavy with unspoken words. The chemistry between us remained, but now it felt like a dangerous undercurrent, something that could pull me under if I wasn’t careful.
After a while, we mounted our horses and headed back, the silence feeling heavier, weighed down by a sense of loss I couldn’t seem to shake. The tension eased gradually, and by the time we reached his truck, he was able to look at me again and smile, only a touch of sadness in his eyes.
The drive home seemed longer, joy absent from it, and the excitement gone. When he turned onto my street, I looked for Jack and didn’t see him. At least there was that. But he was probably following us from a distance on his wretched black Harley.
In my driveway, Winston cut the engine and turned to me. A slow-burning fire smoldered in his eyes. “Olivia, I—”
“Oh, damn it to bloody hell,” I whispered, and kissed him. The moment our lips met, a surge of heat washed over me, intensifying with every heartbeat. His initial surprise melted away as he responded, his lips moving against mine with a hunger that matched my own. My hands found their way to the back of his neck, fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer.
Winston’s hands slid around my waist, his grip firm even in the tight space between us. The heat of him pressed against me, his body warm and unyielding. His lips met mine again, warm, tasting of sun and wind and just a trace of salt from the sweat on his skin.
The scent of him filled my senses, earthy and masculine, a mix of leather, warm skin, and the faintest whisper of sage carried on the dry desert air. The kiss deepened, his breath mingling with mine, his lips moving against me with slow, unrelenting purpose.
The world around us disappeared, lost to the rhythm of our mouths, the warmth of his hands, the heady, undeniable pull between us. There was no hesitation, no second-guessing, only the heat building between us. It took every bit of willpower I had to pull away. “I’m sorry, Winston ... I really am,” I whispered, my voice breathless and filled with a longing I wasn’t faking. “Please forgive me.” Then, before he could say anything to change my mind, I got out of the truck and ran inside, slamming the door behind me.
In the cold, tomb-like silence of my temporary home, I let myself slide against the door and buried my face in my hands. I knew what I had to do next. What I’d done before with other marks.
“No!” I cried, sobbing hard. “I can’t do this. Not this time.”
Defense Attorney Blake:Detective Stanek, why do you believe the burden of proof was not met in this case?
Aaron Stanek:Because, after reviewing all the evidence, no substantial motive was established.
Defense Attorney Blake:So, you don’t believe the defendant had any reason to commit the murder?
Aaron Stanek:That’s correct. The investigation did not reveal any motive on the defendant’s part. Other people had motive and access—
District Attorney Mitchell:Objection! Lack of foundation.
