Page 33 of Sincerely, Mr. Braden

“Always.”

“I think you’re a collector. The way you look at the world, it’s like you collect sights and capture moments before they can slip away.”

Something tender curls in my chest at how clearly he sees me. “I guess that’s my way of holding on to the sweeter things in life.” The things that give without taking.

“I’m going to show you so many sweet things.” He kisses me. “Tomorrow we’ll go Jet Skiing, and I’ll show you a hidden cove I know you’ll love. Then we’ll explore the caves and fill up that creative well of yours with unbelievable sights.”

I know how much he loves caving, and my heart fills to the brim knowing he wants to share it with me.

He brushes a strand of hair from my cheek, his fingers lingering there. “But right now, you don’t have to hold on,” he says, his voice low. “Just be with me.”

It’s in this moment, lying in his arms, moonlight casting shadows over us, that I can no longer hide from the truth. I was falling for this beautiful man well before I set eyes on him in person. As he brushes his lips over mine, I whisper, “There’s no place I’d rather be.”

His fingers skim along my jaw as our mouths come together in a slow, sensual kiss that floods me with desire. The slide of his palm over my ribs sends a shiver through me as he takes the kiss deeper. Somewhere between one kiss and the next, everything magnifies—the feel of my dress peeling away from my body, his linen pants sliding against my skin as he strips them off, our heated kisses as we finish undressing, and the cool air skating over my nakedness. Every breath, every touch, feels powerful enough to rewrite our beginning.

I cling to that as he moves over me, cocooning me in his warmth. His mouth comes devouringly down over mine as our bodies come together with a familiarity that feels excruciatingly right. He buries himself so deep inside me, nothing can come between us, and his hips still. My body embraces every inch of him, and I know I’ll feel him for days.

He breaks the kiss, gazing reverently into my eyes, and whispers, “Ellie,” like it’s the most treasured word he knows. He lowers his face beside mine, his scruff tickling my cheek, his warm breath coasting over my neck as he says, “I thought my siblings were out of their minds, falling in love so fast. But I think I’m starting to understand how it happened.”

My heart swells to near bursting. There are so many things I want to say—I love you. I’m really Taylor Mitchell. I’m sorry—but the ache of wanting more and the dread of knowing it can never be intertwine in one torturous truth, stealing my ability to form a single word. Closing my eyes against the emotions swamping me, I press my lips to his shoulder, and there beneath the stars, on this night I’ll never forget, I swallow the guilt and the pain of losing what I’ve only just found and give myself over to this incredible man, dissolving into the rhythm of us one last time.

Chapter Eleven

Taylor

Steam lingers in the air as I step out of the shower and into the towel Seth is holding open for me. His smile is the kind that comes after the feverishness of new couples. The one that says there’s my person, and I have no idea how that could have happened for him so fast. I know how it happened to me. My secret gives me the benefit of years of coming to know the man behind the messages and interviews, but he’s only just met Eleanor.

I can’t keep lying to him, but the truth feels like a betrayal, too. I was awake half the night trying to figure out what to do. I decided to tell him the truth this morning, but I can’t. I’m afraid to. Not only because he’ll hate me, but because it might mar the goodness in him, and he doesn’t deserve that any more than he deserves the ruse that has snowballed into heart-crushing proportions. If I’d known we’d end up here, I never would have lied. Hurting him is worse than my own broken heart and the fear of losing my job combined.

“Come here,” he says, pulling me into a kiss that tastes faintly of spearmint. “I could get used to this.”

That nearly does me in, because not only could I get used to it, but I want to get used to it. I want to be in this man’s arms every single day. I want to love him with everything I am, so when his head hits his pillow at night, he knows if he lost everything tomorrow, he’d still have me.

I struggle to push those wants away and follow him into the bedroom, pretending I’m not dying inside. I watch him pulling on his shorts as I pick up my clothes, his tanned body still damp, hair messy. As much as it hurts, I know I’m doing the right thing. This has to end.

He glances over, eyes smiling, and reaches for my hand. I grab my phone, and my legs move on autopilot as we head out of the bedroom. Sunlight pours through the living room sliders. I want to turn off the sun and bury my heartache in a cold pit of darkness.

Seth squeezes my hand, drawing my attention back to him. “How do omelets sound?”

“Good.” I have no idea how my voice pushes through my throat, it’s so thick with hurting.

“Great. I’ll make some for us.”

As he takes a step away, I want to tell him not to bother and that there is no us—or at least there won’t be after the truth comes out—but he turns back, catches my wrist, and pulls me into another kiss. It’s light, unhurried. I smile against his mouth, and he deepens the kiss, one hand at my waist, the other sliding into my wet hair.

“Mm,” he says as our lips part. “I’ll never get enough of you.”

I stand there, unable to move, watching him go, relaxed and happy, into the kitchen. He looks like a man who is exactly where he wants to be, and that’s what breaks me, bringing the burn of tears, because I can’t stay. Not when everything between us has been built on a lie. The weight of it presses against my ribs until I can hardly breathe.

Last night comes rushing back. The lovemaking, the way he held me as he fell asleep, and how I got up in the middle of the night and hid in the bathroom like a felon, making travel arrangements. It’s a damn good thing I did, because as my heart begs me to stay, I use the money spent on that flight as another reason I can’t, propelling me to retreat into the guest room.

I shut the door behind me and lean my back against it. Squeezing my eyes closed against a rush of tears, I gasp for breath, trying to hold my shattering heart together. I feel like there’s an elephant sitting on my chest, my lungs refusing to work. I do the only thing I know will get me through this. Drawing on more than a decade of experience of soldiering on, I grit my teeth and fist my hands, forcing the emotions into the cellar of my being. I nail that sucker down with every ounce of willpower I have, forcing the tears to stop, accepting, welcoming, the knots twisting in my chest like barbed wire. I deserve the pain.

Deep breaths, Taylor.

Ellie! a voice inside me screams, bringing another rush of tears.

How did he make the name I’ve abhorred feel so good?