Page 144 of Hearts Storm

I want to reach over and smooth away whatever’s left of that hurt. I’d do anything to squash it—go back in time. Throttle her asshole father for being a no-good drunk. But I know that kind of devastation doesn’t just disappear. It takes root and grows. And sometimes all you can do is learn to grow along with it.

“Actually, I’m a lot better than I was before I moved to Lakeside. Almost like night and day.” The firmness of her voice says she’s telling the truth. “I don’t think I even realized how bad it was until it started getting better.”

She swirls the champagne in her glass, watching the bubbles race to the surface. “I used to wake up every morning with this... weight on my chest? And I would just... live with it. All day. Every day. And now? Most days it’s not even there.”

My chest tightens. I want to tell her how proud I am. How much it means to me that she’s allowing herself to heal. But before I can get the words out, she turns to face me fully.

“I went to see Madame Solis.”

Draining my glass, I set it aside. “The psychic?”

She nods, hair gently blowing across her face. “I know how it sounds. Trust me, I went in thinking it was going to be a load of bullshit.”

Reaching over, I take her hand in mine and give it a squeeze.

Reyna’s voice drops. “She channeled Becca.”

My throat tightens. I don’t know what to say. I don’t really believe in psychics. I prefer things I can see, touch, and control. But the look on Reyna’s face tells me whatever happened in that woman’s house was real to her.

“What did she say?”

Her eyes shimmer in the fading light. “She told me it was okay to let her go. That she’s at peace, and I need to find mine too.” Her voice cracks, and she presses her lips together, blinking hard. “Then I had that dream…”

A vision of her sobbing in the rain, tucked between me and Logan, pops into my head, twisting my heart inside my chest.

“But, you and Logan? Being there for me in my moment of grief?” She squeezes my hand. “That’s what really solidified everything for me.”

Stunned at her words, all I can do is stare at her profile and swallow the lump in my throat.

Then, gaze on the horizon, she takes in a deep breath. “I’d prefer not to talk anymore, if that’s okay.”

Her words come out quiet, but with an edge that makes my pulse kick up a notch.

“Then come here, Pretty,” I murmur.

I tug her hand and she crawls into my lap. The instant shift in energy makes all the blood in my head rush straight to my dick.

One second she’s talking about grief and coming to terms with it, and the next she’s climbing into my lap like she can’t get close enough, legs bracketing my thighs.

The sun is almost gone now, just a sliver of molten gold along the ridge, turning her hair into a halo surrounding her beautiful face. I don’t deserve this woman. I know I don’t. But I’m selfish. Selfish enough to make her mine.

Gripping the hem of her shirt, I pull it over her head and toss it aside. My hands go straight for her tits, palming them through the thin lace of her bra, and she arches into my touch with a soft, broken sound that makes my cock throb in my jeans.

Yanking the cups down exposes her pert, rosy nipples, I don’t waste another second before taking one into my mouth.

sixty-four

White molten heat fills my veins when Brex’s mouth latches onto my nipple, making me moan.

Releasing it with a pop he looks up at me, lips curling into a lopsided smile. Sunset colors of orange, pink, and gold highlight his face right before the sun winks and disappears, leaving us bathed in dusk.

“Let’s get you out of these jeans, shall we?”

We scramble. Brex tosses our empty glasses into the basket and shoves it out of the way as I hurry and shimmy out of my jeans and take off my bra.

He turns, pulling his shirt over his head only to freeze when he sees me on my knees, tits still on full display. When his gaze drops and he sees my barely-there red thong, he groans.

“Holy fuck, I knew it! You’re definitely trying to kill me.”