Chapter 27

Amelia

I rested my cheek against Cade’s back as we rode along a winding road that headed toward the ocean. Willow Brook wasn’t right on the coast, but it was roughly a half hour away. I’d been anxious for Cade to get home once he’d told me he had his bike. We’d taken many trips—short and long—on this very motorcycle before. I hadn’t even known he still owned it, but apparently this bike, his favorite, had been stored in the back of his parents’ garage all this time.

He’d purchased a new helmet for me on his way home, announcing he couldn’t find the old one I’d used years ago. With my arms looped about his waist, I lifted my head and savored the cool summer air. This road avoided Anchorage entirely and skipped down to the shoreline along Cook Inlet, the wide inlet from the Gulf of Alaska in the Pacific Ocean that stretched inland to Anchorage. We were headed towards a viewing point along Turnagain Arm, the aptly named branch off the inlet the road followed, turning again and again and again along the water’s edge.

As we traveled south from Willow Brook, the woodsy mountain air started to mingle with the crisp, salty ocean breezes. I felt as if I were sipping the scents of life when I rode on the back of Cade’s motorcycle. The trees started to thin and the view opened up as we reached Turnagain Arm, which offered a view nothing short of spectacular with the feet of the mountains kissing the water’s edge. The engine rumbled as Cade downshifted and eased onto a narrow side road almost hidden by the trees. Turnagain Arm itself was a busy place for traffic all summer long, seeing as it was the only way for travelers to get from Anchorage onto the Alaskan playground that was the Kenai Peninsula. The Kenai Peninsula was home to rivers, the ocean, sparkling bays and several communities that catered to tourists, chief among them Diamond Creek and Homer.

Cade skipped off that busy road onto a narrow dirt road that led us to a secluded viewing area, known only to locals and definitely not accessible by campers. It was also completely unmarked, so only the rare, adventurous tourist might stumble upon it. Through a cluster of birch, the road opened up to a grassy bluff. He rolled to a stop and glanced over his shoulder, flashing one of his devastating grins.

Being with him was an odd combination of the familiar and the new. Perhaps it was that the familiar felt fresh and sharp. No matter what, his grin had the effect it always had. Liquid need slid through my veins and my belly fluttered. He kicked the stand down and turned the engine off. In a flash, he spun around on the motorcycle seat so he was facing me.

He reached over and unbuckled my helmet, carefully removing it and hooking it on one of the handlebars. I started to return the favor, but he beat me to it.

We sat in silence for a moment. My ears readjusted to the absence of the humming engine, the sound of birds chattering in the trees and the water rolling softly against the shore percolating around us.

Cade looked away, his eyes scanning the span of water. Turnagain Arm was a narrow offshoot from Cook Inlet. The mountains on the other side were so close, it felt as if you could reach over and touch them. Gulls called and swooped, a patch of bright pink flowers stood out at the edge of the sand where the grass ended, and the briny scent of the ocean gusted on the breeze.

“I forgot how much I loved it here,” Cade said gruffly, his gaze coming back to land on me.

“I haven’t been here since the last time I came with you.”

My words came out husky, and emotion pressed hot tears in my eyes and tightened like a band around my heart. The intensity of the feeling crashed over me suddenly. I’d tried so hard—so, so hard—not to dwell on him when he was gone. I’d clung to my anger like the lifeboat it had been. Without it, I’d likely have fallen to pieces inside. Sadly, my resolute determination to keep thoughts of him at bay—which if I were being honest with myself had completely failed—led to me shutting out any conversation about him and the glaring reality I’d never allowed myself to find out the truth of what had happened. I’d also avoided certain places—places that were tied too tightly to my memories of him. This was one of them. This officially nameless spot that we’d dubbed Again Beach because we used to go here again and again.

Here we were—again—my first visit after seven years away. It was fitting, of course, that I was with Cade. He watched me quietly, his eyes darkening with concern.

“You really haven’t been here since then?”

His question felt quiet and heavy with the portent of what my words meant.

I swallowed and bit my lip, shaking my head quickly before snapping my eyes away. It was almost too much, too intense, to look at him. When I felt emotional like this, not a common thing for me, I felt vulnerable and exposed. Even worse, I’d fought so hard to build up my emotional armor after the way things ended with him. I could see where my own stubbornness had become my worst enemy, but newly developed awareness didn’t erase time or the defenses I’d developed to learn how to cope.

His thumb brushed across my bottom lip, and I flicked my gaze back to him.

“Hey, you okay?” he asked.

I nodded, a tad too rapidly. I forced myself to take a slow breath, my shoulders sagging when I let it out.

“Yes and no,” I finally said. “Yes, because it’s so good to have you home and to have you here. No, because I feel like an idiot for getting so pissed off before and not giving us some time to talk.”

His eyes were considering. After a beat, he lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “It sucks, but we were both pretty stubborn. I could’ve tried a little harder to push it. It sure as hell didn’t help that I was so far away for so long. We can’t change the past.” He paused, his gaze turning inward as if considering what he meant to say. “I took your advice.”

My confusion must have shown on my face because he continued quickly. “I told Shannon to go to hell.”

I burst out laughing. “Oh my God! Really? How’d she take it?”

“I don’t think she was too happy, but I didn’t give her much chance to talk. There’s nothing to talk about. Honestly…” He paused, his hand dropping to grip mine. “I don’t know what the fuck her deal is. She was never my favorite friend of yours back in the day, but did I miss something? There was never anything there with us that I noticed. Next thing I know she’s hopping in bed and you’re storming out. I haven’t talked to her since I told her to fuck off before.” The furrow in his brow cleared, and he grinned. “Maisie’s default bitch mode was helpful. She wouldn’t let Shannon out back at the station—thank fucking God—and then offered to kick her ass if I needed her to. Oh, and she told me she knows how to fight.”

I laughed so hard, tears rolled down my cheeks. When I caught my breath, I looked back at Cade. “Normally, I’d wonder if you were exaggerating, but with Maisie, I don’t doubt it for a second.” I scrubbed the end of my sleeve on my cheeks and took a deep breath, savoring the crisp ocean air. “I don’t know what Shannon’s deal is. Honestly, I put up a firewall around conversations about you after what happened. Shannon and I never talked again. I’ll have to ask Lucy what she knows. You’d think I’d be wondering, but having you back is taking up all my head space, so…” I ended with a shrug, flushing at his direct gaze.

He eased his grip on my hand and rested both of his on my hips. “So we’re good? You’re not freaked out about her pulling this bullshit today?”

I wanted to shrug it off. If none of this involved my heart, I’d have been able to say it was fine. As it was, my heart was so tangled up with Cade, it was impossible to shrug anything off. I could tell myself intellectually that I should feel okay, and I did. Mostly.

I felt as if he was looking inside my head, or perhaps my heart. His eyes scanning my face, his shoulders rose and fell with a breath. “I fucking hate that you would even worry all because she pulled that stunt. You know I had nothing to do with her, right? Nothing,” he said vehemently.

I chewed on the inside of my cheek, feeling bad that I still had these weird insecurities. It wasn’t just what Cade told me, but now that I’d stopped shutting out any and all talk related to him, it was pretty clear there’d never been anything to him and Shannon. Yet, old habits died hard. The perceived betrayal had scored me so deeply, the pain was still there. I looked back at him and saw nothing but fierce tenderness in his gaze, so I shoved those stupid, clingy insecurities away. “I know, I know. Just like you couldn’t stand to see me anywhere near Earl even though you knew there was nothing going on, it’s hard to know Shannon’s around because I don’t know what she might do. It’s not really a rational thing.”

He nodded slowly, his mouth curling at one corner in a wry smile. “No, ‘spose not.”

I took another breath and gave myself a mental shake. “No need to keep talking about it. Seeing as I’m not rational about it, that doesn’t really help,” I said with a soft laugh.

“You sure? Because I’ll talk all day and all night if it would help.”

I knew by the look in his eyes, he would. Knowing Cade, usually armored with his don’t give a damn attitude, I loved that I got to see the other side of him. He wasn’t much of a talker. He was all action.

“I’m sure.” I lifted a hand and traced along his jawline.

His eyes darkened, and he slid his hands up my waist, brushing past the sides of my breasts. My breath hitched and heat pooled low in my belly.

“Good because I don’t really want to talk about her anymore,” he said, his gravelly voice sending hot shivers over my skin.

With my pulse skittering wildly, I let my gaze coast over him. Sweet hell. It was too much. Beyond the blatant, fiery desire I felt for him, he was about as alpha masculine as a man could get and not be obnoxious about it. He sat there, inches away from me, in his faded black jeans that fit his muscled legs like a glove, his black t-shirt paired with his black leather jacket. With his rumpled brown curls and hooded green gaze on me, I figured I might as well just melt right here. I could feel the slick heat between my thighs and my heart thudding against my ribs.

After a beat, he stroked his palm around my back, tangling his hand in my hair and fitting his mouth over mine. In a flash, the heated, still moment went up in a burst of flames. Kissing him was like tumbling into madness. His kisses were rough and wet, soft and gentle, and everything all at once—sweeping his tongue in for deep strokes, pulling back and catching my bottom lip in his teeth, tracing my mouth with his tongue. All the while, his hands were busy toying with my nipples, adjusting the angle of our kiss to trail a blaze of wet fire down my neck and into the V of my t-shirt. He leaned back long enough to shove my shirt down and flick the clasp on my bra. My breasts bounced free, and I groaned when he leaned forward and drew a nipple into his mouth. The suction alone nearly made me climax.

With him, I was always teetering on the edge, chasing the sharp bite of pleasure. When he turned his attention to my other breast, my nipple a tight bead of expectation, I cried out sharply and buried my hands in his hair, needing something to hold onto. The contrasting cool air hitting my damp skin only notched the heat inside higher.

I hadn’t realized I’d all but straddled his lap on the motorcycle until the sound of a vehicle approaching nudged me out of my wild daze. Cade heard the sound at the same time I did and lifted his head, quickly tugging my shirt up. I glanced down and bit back a laugh. My damp nipples were easily visible through my t-shirt, while my bra was askew. He eased back from me in the nick of time, creating barely enough space between us to pass as decent, when a battered truck rolled through the trees into the clearing by the water.

Cade caught my eyes, a sly gleam in his. “Walk?”

I shook my head.

“No walk? But this is the first time we’ve been back here.”

The occupants of the truck climbed out, two men wearing fishing waders. They waved as they walked by after gathering fishing gear from the back of the truck. They disappeared out of sight momentarily when they walked down the steep path along the small bluff to the water. Within moments, they were casting their lines.

Alone again, I glanced back to Cade, my body humming from his closeness. “No walk,” I said, leaning forward until my lips were brushing against his with my words.

The heat of his hands sliding up my thighs nearly made me tackle him right there. “Rain check on the walk only if you promise we’ll come back soon,” he murmured against my lips.

It took all of my willpower to contain myself, but I really wasn’t up for giving the two fishermen a show.

“Promise,” I whispered.

Cade pushed back on the seat and swung his leg over, quickly handing over my helmet, while he put his own on. In seconds, the engine of his bike rumbled to life, that low, throaty growl I associated solely with him even when I heard it from a distance and knew he was nowhere near.