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Maybe with Anderson at my side, I stand a chance. Maybe with him here, she will open up and let me in.
If I lose her… I doubt anything will bring me back from that darkness.
CHAPTER37
ALESSANDRA
Boom. Pop. Fizzle.
The sky explodes in color. People nearby ooh and aah at the sparkling display over the lake. Eyes heavenward, residents and tourists sit on blankets and point out their favorite fireworks as they light the night sky. A musty, sulfuric smell wafts in the breeze alongside the mouth-watering smell of grilled burgers and hot dogs. Children laugh as they dance with sparklers, writing their names in the air with the glowing sticks.
Braydon tightens his arms around my waist. Scoots closer, crushing his front to my back. Nuzzling my neck before taking a deep breath. Rests his chin on my shoulder and hums in contentment.
I all buthearhis I love you.
And for some unknown reason, his swell of affection has me itchy. Ready to jump up and run away. Not because I feel nothing for him. But because I feel more than I thought possible.
Loving someone, loving him, scares me more than anything. Loving him and possibly losing him keeps me from uttering the three-word phrase back.
“Fireworks are never this brilliant in the city,” he whispers, breath hot on my ear.
I twist, and my lips graze his. Soft and warm and inviting. “Light pollution,” I blurt louder than necessary. “Sorry,” I say at a lower volume. “When the town does fireworks, the mayor cuts all the lamppost lights in the immediate area.” Turning back to face the lake, I lay my head on his shoulder. “Less light pollution makes the show ten times better.”
“Agreed.”
His lips skim the curve of my neck. Imprint my skin with a kiss. Then another. And another until he reaches the spot just beneath my ear that makes my knees wobbly. His fingers knead my flesh with newfound softness. His legs bracket mine, adding a layer of security and privacy as his fingers dip beneath the bottom hem of my shirt.
My eyes dart around the crowd. “Braydon…” My voice breathy and unrecognizable. “We’re surrounded by hundreds of people.”
He sucks my earlobe between his lips while fingers trace the waistband of my shorts. “And no one is paying us any attention.”
Turned on as I am at the idea of Braydon doing naughty things to me in the middle of a crowded park beneath the fireworks, I lay my hand over his and stop him. What if the person responsible for all the harassment is here and they snap pictures?
The negative social media commentary had been a nuisance. An additional, unplanned expense was spurred by the exterior vandalism. The drop in sales due to an overabundance of out-of-towners clogging the café was more a shock than anything.
But the countless nasty reviews online… had been the peak of the roller coaster. The moment when I no longer held back the tears. The moment I hit freak-out mode. As per usual, I bottled most of it up. Released a hint of frustration or a dash of irritation when everything got to be too much. Didn’t happen often, but when it did, I took it out on the wrong people.
Last thing I need right now are photos online of me and Braydon making out in the park with children nearby. Whoever is behind this will surely stir the shit pot with “unsavory” photos. I see the commentary now.
Pervert.
Public indecency.
Having sex in public with children ten feet away.
My stomach flips and I swallow past the bile rising in my throat.
“Braydon.” I shake my head, push his hand away, and sit taller. “No. Not here. Not with everyone so close.”
He scoots back and I shiver at the loss of his warmth. I hug my legs to my chest and drop my forehead to my knees. Tears sting the backs of my eyes and I will them to go away, but they don’t. A hand rubs small circles between my shoulder blades, but no other part of him touches or consoles me.
“Sorry, firecracker,” he mutters just before anotherboom, pop, fizzlesteals the silence.
I can’t do this.
His hand stops and I suck in a breath.
“What?”
