Free Reckless Hearts by Melody Grace Page A

did
in the city,” he continues, clearly loving every minute of my
surprise. “I was in finance. Wall Street. I was pulling in
stupid money, until I decided to jack it all in and move to the
country to turn wood and count the crickets. So don’t you
worry, sweetheart, I won’t be skipping out on a check anytime
soon.”
    I
finally get it together and rise, following him out. Will places one
hand low on my back, and leans in until his lips brush against my
ear. “And since you’re so concerned, the water at my
shack will be running by the weekend. Full upgrade, gas tank, the
works.”
    I
laugh and playfully push him away, but only to hide my shiver at the
whisper of his lips against my skin.
    Call
me crazy, but I’ve never found plumbing so sexy in my life.
     
    We
play two round of mini-golf, and the whole time, I try to keep that
fluttering feeling at bay. But it’s no use. Will has me
laughing at dumb jokes and celebrating our high scores, the
connection between us so easy and relaxed that it’s not until
we’re in the truck heading back to Oak Harbor that I realize
the laughter has drifted away with the sinking sun, and now there’s
something else shimmering in the dark summer night’s air
between us, something charged and electric.
    I
glance over at him and feel a shiver. Maybe it would be different if
I hadn’t kissed him before; if I didn’t know exactly how
skilled and certain that gorgeous mouth could be against my lips. The
feel of his body; the heat already snaking through my veins. But I
do—and now all I want is to feel it again. The images rush
through my mind, sensual and tempting, until it’s all I can
think about. God, it would be so easy to invite him inside back at
mine, for coffee or a nightcap, some other blatant pretext to get him
inside—and out of his clothes. It doesn’t have to mean
anything, just explore the connection that’s so clear between
us . . . 
    The
truck comes to a stop, breaking through my fevered thoughts. “Here
we are,” Will says, and then—like I knew he would—he
goes around to get my door and walks me to my front step.
    “Tonight
was fun,” I admit. Will’s face is cast in shadows by my
porch awning, the angles of his face so clean and strong. It sends an
unfamiliar longing through me, and I have to glance away. “Thank
you for dinner.”
    “Any
time.”
    I
fumble with my keys and open the door. It’s now or never. If it
was any other guy, I wouldn’t think twice before going after
what I want, so I turn back. “Do you want to come in?” I
ask, straight out, my heart pounding.
    Will
pauses, and when he speaks again, his voice is thick. “I . . . don’t
know if that would be a good idea.”
    I
catch a glimpse of something in his eyes, something that makes my
whole body shiver in anticipation.
    He
wants me.
    And
desire? That’s something I know how to deal with. It’s
not messy, or full of doubts. It can be easy. Simple.
    Fun.
    I
take a step back, into my dark hallway, and give him an inviting
smile. “It sounds like a good idea to me.” I reach out
and place my hands on his chest, running my fingertips over the
smooth, soft fabric of his shirt. Will gives me a rueful smile—but
he takes a couple of steps closer, too.
    “Didn’t
I say something about not making out with you?” His voice is
low and sexy, and the look he shoots me is tense with desire.
    “It’s
OK,” I whisper, hooking my finger over the collar of his shirt
and pulling him to close the distance between us for good. Something
about him so close makes everything click into place, just right. I
lean in and drop a kiss in the spot where his jaw meets the curve of
his neck. “Promises are made to be broken.”
    I
feel him tense. Will pulls away a little, looking down at me with a
curious expression in his eyes. But before I can think, he takes
another couple of steps, walking me back until I’m against the
wall, the lights off, shadows cloaking us in a dim