Chapter Nineteen

Charlotte

The asshat had conveniently forgotten to mention that I needed a bathing suit. But I couldn’t be mad because getting to see Luke, a whole lot of Luke, all tanned skin and rock-hard muscle, made it totally worth it. Plus, I’d never been skinny-dipping, so I got to cross that off my bucket list.

We played in the shallows for a while, and then he carried me out into deeper water and kissed me. He became aroused, and for a moment I thought we might make love right there in the lake, but we didn’t. Instead, he dunked me and swam away laughing, which spawned a twenty-minute water battle.

Then we dressed and grabbed what Luke had brought. He led me on a hike around the lake, finally climbing up to a rocky bluff where we could see for miles. We spread out the blanket on a perfect spot and cuddled together, watching the clouds float by. It was truly the perfect day already, and it was barely even noon.

“You getting hungry yet?” Luke asked, leaning over to brush a wisp of hair away from my face.

“Maybe. What’s in that picnic basket?”

Smirking, he said, “You’ll just have to find out.”

We sat up, stacking up the oversized throw pillows behind us, and Luke arranged an impressive picnic. We munched on cheese and crackers, and sipped glasses of wine while chatting about everything and nothing.

“This is an awfully romantic date, Mr. Wilder. Explain to me again how it is that you’re still single?”

He chuckled and shook his head. “No, you’ve got it all wrong. This isn’t a date. I just needed to get you out of the house before the hookers that Duke hired came over.”

Knowing he was kidding, I nodded, keeping my expression serious. “I see. Good plan.”

He told me about the history of Shady Grove, and how his family came to be settled there. We laughed and ate, and then watched a movie on the iPad he’d brought. It was the perfect day.

When the sun began to set, I thought that was it, that it was time to pack up and go home. Instead, Luke went to gather firewood while I built a little stone ring several feet away from our blanket. Once he got a fire going, we roasted hot dogs on sticks and ate gooey burned marshmallows, chasing them with sips of his smoky whiskey.

I couldn’t recall a time when I’d enjoyed such simple pleasures. As sweet as it had been for Molly to throw me a going-away party, this was the best way to spend my last night here. It felt so right.

“You cold?” Luke asked, draping a heavy arm around me and pulling me close.

“A little.” I nodded.

“I’ll fix that.”

After he threw another log onto the fire, he stood up and grabbed a faded flannel shirt from his truck, then draped it around my shoulders. The shirt was soft and smelled like him, and I slipped my arms into the sleeves and buttoned it up.

“I’m a mess,” I said, smoothing my wavy air-dried hair into a ponytail high on my head. I could only imagine what I must look like.

“I like you like this,” Luke murmured, tilting my chin toward his to kiss my lips.

“You’re being awfully sweet. Are you trying to get lucky?” I whispered, pressing my lips to his again.

“That depends . . .”

“On?”

Luke lifted me into his lap, settling me over the firm ridge in his pants. “On if you can handle riding this all night long.” He thrust upward, forcing the breath from my lungs. “Because I don’t plan on stopping until the sun comes up.”

His mouth crashed against mine in a hungry kiss. The pressure building between my legs demanded attention, and I couldn’t help the whimper that fell from my lips.

He groaned when I shifted my hips, gripping my ass to work me over his straining cock as he kissed me again. After unbuttoning the flannel shirt, Luke let it drop from my shoulders and then stripped off my T-shirt and bra.

His warm, calloused palms covered my breasts, his thumbs stroking my nipples. “What do you say, sweetheart? Are you ready to ride my cock?”

Rising to my feet, I quickly stripped out of my shorts and underwear. Luke wasted no time unfastening his pants and shoving them down his hips. By the time I was back in his lap, he’d already sheathed himself in a condom.

“Come here, beautiful. Need to make sure you’re ready for me.”

While his mouth feasted on my breasts—kissing and nibbling and licking—his hand moved between us where he discovered that I was, in fact, already ready for him.

“I love it when you taste like my whiskey.” He groaned again, sliding one finger inside me.

Gripping his shoulders, I buried my face against his neck, kissing all the warm skin I could reach. “Luke . . .” I moaned his name, the need in my voice unmistakable.

Positioning me in his lap, he pressed forward slowly until our bodies were joined.

“Christ . . . you’re perfect,” he said, grunting as he pumped into me.

“Let me,” I whispered.

Placing his hands on my jaw, he brought my lips to his while I took control of our speed. I rocked my hips in his lap, finding the angle that suited me.

I patted his chest. “Lean back, big boy.”

Luke obeyed, resting on his elbows while he watched me with hooded eyes. “Just like that, baby. Nice and slow.”

Under the moon and stars with a fire crackling beside us, we found new ways to bring each other pleasure. And after we had both reached our climax, we lay spooned together under a blanket for a long time, his breathing slow and even as he stroked my hair.

I kept waiting for Luke to ask me to stay, waited for him to ask what was so important about getting to LA.

But he didn’t.

And I didn’t bring it up, even though I felt the weight of my secret pressing down on me with each passing heartbeat. Because now that we’d grown closer, keeping the truth from him this whole time suddenly felt very, very wrong.

“Luke, there’s something I never told you about back home . . . about why I left.”

“Shh.” He stroked my hair. “You don’t owe me an explanation. You wanted a fresh start, right?”

I nodded, my head still nestled against his chest. Tears welled in my eyes at how perfect and sweet this man was. He’d bared his soul to me in just one week’s time, and I hadn’t even been brave enough to return the favor. But for now, I knew he was right. I didn’t want to sully our last night together by talking about Prescott or any of the other stuff in my life. Compared to the man beside me, it was all meaningless.

Tomorrow had the power to change everything, so I kept my mouth shut and simply enjoyed being with him.

But I couldn’t help but wonder, come morning, would he ask me to stay, or would he let me go without a fight?