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Authors: Anne Lange

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BOOK: Worth the Risk
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Colleen chose that moment to interrupt them, placing herself between their bodies. How she managed to avoid getting singed, Molly would never know. “Hey, you two. Grab a drink, or a coffee and a donut, and let’s catch up. We’re all dying to know what you’ve been up to, Tanner.”

The spell broken, Molly closed her eyes and dropped her head, dragging in a deep gulp of fresh air.

Tanner cleared his throat. “Uh, sure. Brad and I are going to get the tent pitched first.”

With Colleen as her shield, Molly kept her eyes to ground, but she could feel Tanner’s gaze boring into the top of her head before he excused himself to join the others.

Colleen spun around and grabbed Molly’s hand, yanking her over a few steps. “Wow. You two seemed to have forgotten the rest of us were here. Are you OK?”

“Yes. And thank you. I didn’t know what to say to him. I’m stunned he’s here. You’re sure you didn’t know he was coming?” Surely her friend wouldn’t have kept her in the dark. Had Molly known, she never would have made the trip this year.

“No. I’m as surprised as you. While you two were staring each other down, I grilled Brad. Apparently, Tanner just got back to town. Brad ran into him this morning and invited him.” Colleen frowned, but held Molly’s gaze. Her voice a whisper, she asked the same question she’d asked many times over the ages. “What happened, Molly? Are you ever going to tell me?”

Colleen had never pushed for an explanation. Molly regretted that she couldn’t confide in her best friend, but it had nothing to do with trust and everything to do with grief, guilt, and the pact she’d made with herself. “It was a long time ago, and something I don’t think about anymore. I’d prefer to leave it in the past.” In truth, it never drifted far from her thoughts. She had worked long and hard to get to the point where she remembered without the constant threat of tears. The guilt still needed work.

She shook her head. Ten years had passed in the blink of an eye. She’d decided long ago to never tell a soul. And with her parents gone, that promise had been easy to keep. She just hoped that somewhere along the way Tanner had forgiven her.

Colleen offered her a sympathetic smile and hauled her in close for a hug. Molly closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath, releasing it on a sigh of relief. She’d been granted another reprieve from divulging her secret, at least for now.

 

* * *

 

 

Brad raised his beer. “Here’s to the official start of blackfly season and a long weekend with no rain.”

“Are you kidding me?” Matt’s hoot of laughter made the others smile. “This is Canada, and it’s May Two-Four. That’s synonymous with cold, damp, and wet.”

Molly couldn’t agree more. But like most Canadians, this weekend was a tradition, regardless of the weather. Sort of comparable to giving birth and forgetting about the pain—something Molly would never experience.

Bottles clinked around the table. After Brad, Tanner, and Matt had finished pitching their tents around the double site and stowed their gear, they gathered around the picnic tables. Molly chose the end opposite Tanner, where she could observe unnoticed.

The remains of sandwiches and a variety of junk food lay scattered among them. A few chipmunks, moving past their stage of shyness, darted in and out grabbing dropped crumbs. The noise level had risen as the other weekend campers arrived. A group of young kids started a game of horseshoes at the site across from them, the ping of steel on steel sporadic throughout the late afternoon.

From beneath lowered lids, she watched Tanner survey the area.

“You managed to snag a perfect spot.” He nodded his appreciation.

Sam snatched up a handful of chips. “Me and Liv came in early and booked them for us. Good thing, too, because the park’s full. Snagging this end of the loop was lucky.”

“So, Tanner, have you been in Vancouver all this time?” Matt asked the question everyone wanted to know.

“Yes, but most of the time I’ve been up at Whistler. I went out to visit my aunt and uncle in Vancouver. Then I got a summer job at the ski hill working in one of the restaurants.” Tanner sipped from his beer. “I stayed at the hill for a year, living with friends while I worked.” He shrugged. “I had nothing to come home to, so I decided to stay.” Molly’s gaze jumped to Tanner’s, but even without his glasses, his eyes were hooded, his thoughts hidden.

The strained silence seemed to last forever, but it only existed between the two of them. Molly scanned the others around the table until her gaze collided with Colleen’s. Molly ducked her head.

“You know, I can still remember our first trip out here,” Matt said.

“Yeah, the year we graduated from high school. God, we were just kids.” Brad laughed. He grew serious and tossed a pointed stare in Tanner’s direction. “You know, over the years I’ve seen plenty of people leave town. They don’t visit too often. In a small town, that hits families hard. We’ve missed you, man.”

“I know. I’m sorry I didn’t keep in touch. Nothing changed much in town though.”

“Nothing ever changes around here.” Matt took a drink of his beer.

“I noticed old Mrs. Peterson still has her garden of tulips in every color.”

“Yeah, but she doesn’t have Mr. Peterson to help her care for it anymore. Her daughter comes every fall and plants a few new bulbs to replace any the squirrels dug up, and she’ll be back in to clean it out before end of summer.”

“Can’t say I’ve missed the smell of pine trees and spring flowers mixed in with the aroma of discarded cigarette butts, thawing mud, and dog crap being slowly revealed by the melting snow.” The guys laughed, but Molly felt certain she detected a bit of nostalgia in Tanner’s voice.

Brad and Tanner had been best friends as kids. They had similar interests, but were polar opposites in appearance. Where Brad was of medium height, blond, blued-eyed, and somewhat baby-faced, Tanner stood tall, dark and brooding, but sinfully handsome.

She and Tanner had known each other since kindergarten, but didn’t hook up until midway through high school. As a young girl, she had adored him from afar. Once she got to know him though, she discovered that he was far from a small-town bad boy. He carried deep respect for his family and friends, and he offered his assistance freely. And yet, when she’d needed him most, she hadn’t allowed herself to let him help her.

“So, what do you do?” Brad’s question jostled her out of her memories.

“I got a full-time job managing one of the restaurants at the hill.”

“What brings you back home?” Matt’s question sent Tanner’s gaze traveling around the group until it reached Molly. Trapped by those damn swirls in his eyes, she held her breath, waiting for his next words. “I’m buying a restaurant.”

“Cool. Where’s the restaurant? Up at the hill or in Vancouver?”

His eyes darkened. “Actually, it’s in Ottawa.”

Molly gasped and covered her mouth with one hand, turning it into a cough to cover up her surprise. Exclamations and questions abounded around the table. Molly tried to pay attention to the conversation as Matt grilled Tanner about his plans, but once again, a hive of bees had taken up residence between her ears.

He was moving back, would be living in Ottawa. Oh, Lord. Her body sizzled—with excitement or fear, she didn’t know which. Most days she considered it a large city. She could avoid him—right? But it was also small enough that no matter where he lived, she would be a mere twenty to forty minutes away. Being so close to him, and not being with him, would kill her.

For her part, Molly had never gotten over him. How could she? He had been her first love, her first lover. She had believed they’d be together forever. Funny how forever isn’t very long.

As the conversation droned on around her, Molly slipped back to one special night. The night she had never forgotten. Not a single word, not a single touch. She remembered each and every second. It was the night she resurrected often, the only thing that could get her through to tomorrow when she became immersed in remembering everything that she’d lost.

 

Chapter Three

 

 

Over Ten Years Ago

 

Taking her hand, Tanner led her to a secluded spot at the north end of the beach, a private nook nestled in amongst the trees. The rest of their friends were back at the campsite, arguing over who won that last game of cards.

When they reached the perfect spot, he released his hold on her hand to lay out the blanket. With a flick of his wrists, he let it fly out before it settled in the grass. He unzipped the sleeping bag and laid it opened over the blanket. Kicking off his shoes, he crawled between the blankets of the makeshift bed and reached out to her. She laid her hand in his. With a playful tug, he hauled her down beside him and wrapped the sleeping bag snug around her.

Lying side by side, hands clasped under their heads, they gazed up at the star-studded sky. Water lapped at the shoreline, soothing her, lulling her into a sensuous, romantic state. The chirps of a few crickets and the occasional splash of a frog or fish jumping into the water were the only disruptions in their cozy little universe. The scent of Tanner tickled her nose. He never used cologne, just Irish Spring and him. She rolled her head to peer at him. He lay there, staring at her.

“This is perfect.” Her voice was a whisper.

Without a word, he rolled to his side and canted over her, brushing his lips across hers. His were soft, his touch tender. She couldn’t resist opening her mouth, allowing his tongue to slide inside and dance with hers.

He raised a hand to cup her face as he deepened the kiss. She reached up and twined her arms around his neck, pulling until his chest fell onto hers. His heart thudded against her. Wrapped together, she surrendered to him.

After a passionate embrace, he ended the kiss and cradled her in one arm while the other rested against her lower belly. His gaze held hers as he inched his hand under her sweater, his fingers tiptoeing in a feather-light touch to cover her breast.

She arched her body, pushing her breast into his grasp.

He bent down to devour her mouth again, their teeth clacking together. She giggled. When he withdrew, she gasped at the hot searing look in his eyes. The desire to laugh disappeared. In the moonlight, his eyes were darker than the night. His chest rose and fell with each breath.

“Come here.” Tugging her to a sitting position, he pulled her sweater over her head and dispensed with her bra. Then he laid her back down. The contrast of his tender caresses to the heated attack of his mouth pushed her own arousal to somewhere between a simmer and a boil. He shimmied down her body, taking the tip of one breast into his mouth. After lavishing it with licks and gentle nips he switched to the other, sucking it hard. The cover had slipped off and a cool breeze blew over their bodies, drying their already dampening skin. She hardly noticed. Her shiver had nothing to do with the temperature.

“Oh, yes,” she groaned.

He flicked one taut nipple with his tongue while pinching the other between his thumb and finger. When she could take no more, she grabbed his face between her hands and brought his mouth back to hers for a scorching kiss.

Pausing for breath, he stared down at her, his eyes smoldering. His voice had a low, husky quality when he spoke. “I love you, Molly. This time next year we’ll be finished with school, and we can be married. Start our life together, have babies, grow old together.”

She could only nod. Her breath caught, held. A moan passed his lips as he dipped back to her breasts. When he moved away, her nipples were hardened, distended, and ultra-sensitive. They glistened in the moonlight.

He unfastened her jeans and slipped a hand down inside her panties, cupping her mound while he continued to feast on her nipples. She trembled when he crooked a finger, running it along her moist slit.

He groaned. “You’re wet.”

Her cheeks heated at his observation. His tenderness overwhelmed her as he eased a finger inside, leisurely pumping it in and out. Pleasure zinged along her nerves. When he withdrew, she mewled at the loss until he slid a tiny bit higher to tap her clitoris.

Gasping, a wave of sensation rolled through her body, and she jerked her hips, seeking more. He rubbed her clit, round and round in tiny circles. She tensed her thighs, the tingles of an impending orgasm blossoming. He stopped, kneeling back to peel her jeans off. As he stood to remove his own clothes, she contemplated his body. Her breath caught in awe every time. At twenty-two, he was in his prime—big, muscular, and strong. Her fingers itched to trace the contours of his hard stomach.

Her gaze travelled lower. He threw his clothing aside and put a condom over his straining erection. His hands shook.

You’d think this was their first time.

Straddling her hips, he sank to his knees. Lowering to settle his body over hers, he supported his weight on his forearms. At the moment of impact, skin to skin, a tremor rolled through her. The hair on his legs tickled. He pressed the warmth of his chest against her breasts. The hard length of his cock rested hot and heavy against her sex. She quivered. In his arms, she was complete.

His eyes glowed with passion. He placed soft kisses on the side of her neck, her collarbone, and the tip of each breast, sliding his body lower, making his way down her stomach to her belly button. He dipped his tongue in and swirled it around. A sensual shiver danced over her skin.

Grasping her hips in both hands, he continued his journey. He shimmied until his shoulders were wedged tight between her thighs. Then he stopped. Hot little puffs of air tickled her exposed flesh. She glanced down her body. Tanner lay there, staring at her intimate parts. She remembered the embarrassment she’d felt the first time he’d gone down on her. It hadn’t taken long before it turned to exquisite torture and then mind-numbing bliss, something she anticipated each time they made love.

She heard him exhale as he placed the lightest of kisses on her clit, a butterfly touch at first, barely there. Tease. He applied the smallest amount of pressure, and she groaned. He swiped his tongue down through her slit, and back up, capturing the cream that flowed free.

BOOK: Worth the Risk
10.71Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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