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Well, there went her theories about hit-and-run accidents. I wouldn’t have . . . been with another girl? Her own throat felt tight. “Is there . . . someone else?”
“What?” His eyes snapped to hers. “What? No. No, Layne, there’s no one else.” He leaned down to brush his lips against hers. It brought him even closer, his chest weighing on hers.
“Please,” he said, kissing her again. “Please. I would never hurt you like that.”
His kisses felt light but heavy: desperate, as if he worried she’d pull away any minute.
“Just tell me. I won’t ” she started, only to have him trap her lips for a breathless second. “I won’t hate you. No matter what.”
He went still, staring down at her. His blue eyes were full of hurt and fear and wonder. She’d never thought a guy like Gabriel could look vulnerable, especially not lying on top of her, but there it was.
Layne stared up at him. “Do you trust me?”
“Yes,” he said. “It’s not about trust. I don’t want to disappoint you.” His hand fell at her waist, securing her there against him.
She froze. Half an inch of fabric sat between his palm and ruined skin.
Gabriel paused, but he didn’t move his hand. “Do you trust me?”
She could barely breathe. Her voice came out with a squeak.
“It’s not about trust. I don’t want to disappoint you.”
He laughed softly, and it broke through some of the tension.
All of a sudden, any vulnerability was gone. “You’re crazy.” His hand tightened on her waist, strong and secure through her jacket. He leaned down again, and she was sure he was going to kiss her, but his mouth landed on her neck. His lips whispered against the skin there, followed by his teeth, right against the edge of her jaw. When his mouth caught her earlobe, she gasped and arched into him, surprised at the flood of heat in her body.
His hand slid up her side, holding her there, and she trembled, warring with how much she liked it and how much she worried he could feel.
Gabriel drew back, just enough to look at her. The sun was behind him again, leaving fiery sparks in his hair. A cool breeze kissed her cheeks and made her long for his warmth.
“You still owe me a secret,” she whispered.
“I know.” His lips brushed hers, featherlight. “I know.”
“Tell me ”
“Shhh.” He unzipped her jacket.
She shivered, and it had nothing to do with the chill in the air.
But he stroked a hand across her cheek. “Cold?”
She shook her head, but her breathing was shaky.
He kissed her again, and for a moment, it felt like his kiss was electric, like the sunlight was tangible, a blanket of warmth and sensation that smothered her thoughts. His tongue coaxed small sounds from her throat, and she buried her hands in his hair.
She lost track of his hands, consumed by the feel of his body against hers.
Then he’d pulled her shirt free of her riding pants, and sunlight stroked her bare stomach.
She gasped and broke the kiss, bracing an arm against his chest, using her other hand to try to yank her shirt back down.
“Hey,” he said. “Hey.” His eyes were locked on hers, his hand on her face, nowhere dangerous. His voice was soft. “Your scars aren’t all you are, Layne.” He settled back into the grass a bit, though his face was still close to hers. A smile played on his lips. “And I swear I’m not just saying that to get to second base.”
She laughed, but it came out like a sob, and she was terrified she was going to cry.
Gabriel shifted closer again, his thumb brushing along her cheekbone. “Do you really think I’m going to run if I see your scars?”
