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“I’m sorry, Annie. I never meant to hurt you when I left.”
She was a little shocked by his admission. Part of her thought that night they shared would forever be ignored. At the very least, never mentioned. But he’d just laid it out there.
“I never said you hurt me.” She may have felt it, but she’d never admitted it out loud. And she wasn’t about to start now. Because it didn’t matter. Yes, she knew he was leaving. Knew the expansion he was asked to head up was important. Hell, it wasn’t like he’d made her promises. But she had thought she had another week with him. At least a hug good-bye, maybe. An explanation as to why he took off without a word. For some reason, she honestly thought—
She shook her head. Again, it didn’t matter. He obviously didn’t feel about her the way she felt about him. That one night, she’d lost her judgment. It was naive to think he actually saw the real her. Maybe even liked the real her.
“I’ve thought of you”—he took another step—“every day.”
She scrambled to make her mouth churn out words, but everything she wanted to say didn’t sound right in her head. It would either confirm that she had thought of him too or that she cared that he’d thought of her in the first place. Or she’d ask the one thing she’d been dying to know: Why? If he’d thought of her, why didn’t he call? Why didn’t he check in? Why did he leave her in the middle of the night to wake up on her own? And why did he leave early in the first place? Was it to get away from her?
Asking and admitting that she wanted answers would be showing weakness. Something she wouldn’t do. So, for the first time ever, Annie bit her tongue.
Luke raised a
brow. “Nothing to say to that?”
She bit down harder.
“Have you thought of me? Thought of that night we spent together?”
“No,” she said. Even though it was a lie.
“No, huh? Maybe you just need a refresher,” he said in a husky drawl. He was so close she could smell the sun on his skin and feel the shade on her face from the bill of his hat. “It was right over there.”
Annie knew where he was referring to. The shed. Behind the backhoe, with all the leftover hay bales from the harvest parade.
“It was late, but still hot out.” He slid a finger down her neck. “You were wearing a little white dress that lifted around your thighs every time the breeze picked up.”
He laughed a little, and the sound made her knees weak.
“All damn day I had been praying for a windstorm just so I could get a glimpse …” That finger trailed lower, to the swell of her cleavage peeking out of her tank top.
She swallowed hard, trying to figure a way out of here and away from him, but she couldn’t. Because some part of her was already caught up, and while she knew this was bad—she glanced at his mouth—very, very bad, she couldn’t look away.
“I think you’re remembering,” he said, his lips barely brushing over hers. “You tasted like cider and cinnamon … everywhere.”
Her breath caught and, God help her, she did remember. He had swept her off her feet. Made her feel things no other man had before. Fragile, sexy, safe. He had overwhelmed her with his strength. His presence. Just like he was doing now.
“Luke …” It was a plea, to make it stop. Or to make it not stop. She didn’t know what to want, because no other man had ever had this effect on her.
She didn’t need anyone. It was the motto she’d lived by since her mother started taking off when she was a kid. So why did she feel like she needed Luke to kiss her while at the same time feeling like he was awakening things she didn’t want him to?
She was tired of the jokes. Of the whispers. Throughout the years, Luke had never laughed at her expense.
“There’s something between us, Annabelle. You know it and I know it.”
She did know it. Or she was just so desperate to believe it like she once had. She closed her eyes to try to get a grip, but Luke pressed his mouth against hers, and any hope for reason was lost.
She groaned, swept up in the moment, in his heat. His dominance. Wrapping his arms around her, he kissed everything out of her. Every ounce of hurt he’d left her with. Every second she’d missed him over the past 730 days. Everything. All that mattered now was the feel of him.
“God, Annie, I’ve missed you,” he growled against her lips.
Plunging his tongue deep, he consumed her. Drank her down and returned for more. Her entire body awoke. The power of his kiss, and the way he pressed all that intensity into her space, made her head swim.
She slapped her palms against his torso, his hard muscles jumping beneath her hands. She wanted more. Damn herself later, but right then, she wanted him so badly it was a physical ache. One she’d pushed aside for too long.
The loud sound of another four-wheeler approaching snapped her out of the moment. She pulled away from Luke before the rider came upon them.
