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“You don’t need to figure this out tonight, Reese.” He put his fingertips beneath her chin and gently tilted her face up to his so that he could look into her eyes. “But I need you to know something.”
“What do you need me to know?” Her words were barely above a whisper, almost as if she’d been trying to get herself to keep from asking the question.
“I never broke our promise.”
* * *
OUR PROMISE.
The words they’d spoken to each other a decade ago rang in her ears as if they’d just vowed them. I promise to always love you. Forever. She could see the truth of Trent’s confession in his dark eyes and hear it in the tone of his voice. Reese knew each of Trent’s tones by heart—serious, professional, playful, loving, sensual—and now they were all rushing back at once. His touch had melted the tenuous wall she’d worked so hard to erect around herself for their meeting.
“I should go.” Because if I sit here any longer, I’ll kiss you again.
She saw the disappointment in his eyes that she hadn’t reacted to his confession, but she was too flustered to even try to respond. She wanted to kiss him and to yell at him all at once. Ten years was a long time, and now they’d just crossed a line that not only made it hard for her to see where the past ended and where the present began, but even harder to process and remember the reasons she shouldn’t kiss him.
She rose to her feet and he also stood, automatically placing a hand on her lower back like he’d done so many times before. One tiny movement was all it would take to turn in to his arms, go up on her toes, and kiss him again.
One more delicious kiss.
Just one.
Her knees were already wobbling and her heart was racing when she finally remembered—she couldn’t do this. She couldn’t just jump into a relationship with Trent the way she had when she was nineteen. She wasn’t a girl anymore. She was a woman who needed to know where she stood with her own emotions.
The lure to go further with him was too strong. The desire to allow his strong arms to hold her, to feel his heart beating against hers, to hear his seductive whispers in her ear, was too enticing. She had to get away before she pulled him down by his shirt and ravaged that incredible mouth of his. Again.
Reese picked up her purse and scrambled to gather the papers in her arms as she valiantly fought the urge to give into her desires. She took a step away, torn between running out the door and running into his arms.
“I…Um…Thanks, Trent. I’ll—”
He smiled that easy smile that made her pulse quicken. “I’m really glad we’re working together on this, Reese.”
“Okay,” she said too breathlessly as she took a step toward the door.
“Good night.”
Oh God, that voice…
A nod was all she could manage, before she hurried from the room and toward the exit. A few moments later, she pushed through the doors and inhaled a lungful of the crisp night air. Then another. And another.
As she drove down the quiet streets toward her cottage, an unfamiliar feeling washed over her. So startling was the sensation filling her chest, so overwhelming, that it took her a few long moments to recognize it as relief. Her entire body felt lighter as it washed over her, through her.
Despite desperately wanting Trent’s apology, she wasn’t fully ready to hear it yet. But at least she was finally allowing the thoughts and emotions she’d been suppressing for so many years to sail freely through her mind.
And now, for the first time in forever, Reese felt like the heart she’d locked down so tightly during the past decade was finally allowed to feel again.
Chapter Ten
REESE POPPED OUT of bed at five the next morning, feeling better than she had in a very long time. Her mind was spinning with ideas for the mural as she showered and dressed, filled a mug with coffee, and headed down to the resort to scope out her new canvas.
Mornings had always been her favorite part of the day. She loved to watch the sun roll in over the water and listen to the crows as they cawed their messages from high in the pitch pine trees. She pulled her gray cashmere knit cap on and shivered in her thick cream-colored sweater, glad she’d thought to wear her favorite boots to ward off the September-morning chill. She set her messenger bag down on the grass and pulled out her sketch pad, then stood back, assessing the wall of the resort.
She wouldn’t paint the entire wall. It was massive, and besides, Reese didn’t like boundaries. She often left her paintings free-floating in the center of her canvases, leaving the edges unconfined.
