Page 2 of Infinite
Hale stiffens. It’s brief, long enough to make me question whether he wants me, but not so long that my insecurities surface and force me to withdraw.
Throughout my young life, I’ve turned heads and garnered more attention than I’ve wanted or deserved. I’m not as confident as I come across. I’ve been hurt and weakened by those who should love me most, and while those scars have toughened my hide, they’ve never quite healed.
I think Hale senses the fear my memories stir. It’s just like him. He presses a kiss to the top of my head, giving me the green light to stay in place and wonder a little more where our time alone may lead.
I haven’t prayed much since Nana June died. I do now. When it comes to Hale, I want more than a superficial farewell stuffed with an obliged promise to keep in touch. I want him. Every time we’ve been alone this summer, the air between us has thickened to tar. Too many words were left unsaid, as well as too many sexy thoughts better shared beneath cool sheets.
“You sure about this, Becks?” Hale asks, his voice like rust flaking off an old steel pipe.
I’m so mesmerized by the rhythmic thuds of Hale’s heart against my ear, I almost don’t hear him, nor do I initially realize how fast I’m breathing. He shouldn’t know how badly I want him inside me, not when I’ve spent a lifetime telling him we can never be more than friends.
“Very sure.”
I don’t know how he hears me. I barely hear myself.
“All right then,” he answers.
I sit up as he rounds the bend that leads to the colossal house my granddaddy built. Granddaddy had a lot of money, but it doesn’t come close to the fortune my father accumulated.
“Not here,” I say, clasping his shoulder when he draws closer to the house. “Pull into the service road.”
He cocks a brow, easing off the gas so the SUV slows to a coast. “I take it your Daddy’s home?”
“He won’t be home until later, but just in case . . .” My gaze travels to the small road that separates the main property from where my father’s thoroughbreds are kept. It leads to an overgrown path that thins out at the beach. The thick vegetation should be enough to shadow us and keep us hidden. At least, that’s my hope.
Hale rolls to a stop in the middle of the road and sets his SUV in park. “I thought you wanted me with you.”
“I do,” I reply. “I just don’t want any interruptions. Not tonight.”
The muscles along his square jaw tighten and relax as he mulls through each word. He thinks I’m ashamed of him. His family will never have as much money as mine. What he doesn’t understand is that the shame I feel is for my family and all the harm they’ve caused.
“Becks, if we go on that beach, what’s going to happen?”
My nervousness lingers but stands no chance against my growing desire. “Anything you want,” I reply.
He drops his chin, slowly shaking his head from side to side. I don’t expect his touch to remain tender. Yet there it is, skimming down to hold my hand. “I don’t think you know what you’re saying.”
Tears escape, moistening my cheeks and causing Hale’s light blue eyes to darken to topaz. He’s sad, just like me. God, I’m going to miss him.
“I mean every word,” I promise. I thread my fingers through his. “Will you let me prove it?”
There’s nothing left of that boy who played with my hair all those years ago or the one all the ladies fought to lay their blankets beside when he’d take his post on the lifeguard stand. All that waits is a man full of need and a trickle of restraint barely keeping him in place.
He releases my hand to skim his knuckles over my jaw. With all the desire I see and feel, I expect a harsh kiss, tasting of sin and fury. That’s not what comes.
Lips too soft for a man who mere weeks ago knocked out a drunk for touching me, feather over mine, teasing me until I allow him further in. I don’t quite manage to return his taste before he eases away.
For a moment, we simply stare at each other. It’s our first kiss and one I’ll never forget.
“That was sweet,” I tell him.
“Becks, sweet is the last thing I want to be with you.” He steals another glance at the path. “You sure?”
I nod, my voice quiet. “I’m sure.”
He turns his SUV off the road and onto the path, the wheels crunching through the forest debris until we’re swallowed by darkness. He cuts the engine, his shoulders rising and falling fast.
“Wait until I come for you,” he says when I reach for the handle.