Page 81 of Letting Go

That's when I told her about Bryce, how I was so nervous, and she came up with Water Falcongate…

It was all Claire's idea. The whole thing. Mateus would drive me down to the boatyard, where I'd hide in the cabin, and surprise Bryce. Mateus would stop by and make sure he was coming. It seemed the perfect antidote to me being so, well, insecure. When Laurel offered to scrape the boat, the plan was solid enough to approach Finn.

I hear waves slapping hard against the hull. The boat is picking up speed, heading to open water.

I can't wait any longer. Seeing him up there from behind, his hands on the wheel, dressed in black jeans a turtleneck sweater, and a light, oilskin jacket, makes my groin suddenly ache. It seems like forever since we were together—so much has happened.

He does a double take, sees me, cuts the engine, and instead of saying something stupid, he just takes me in his arms.

His skin is salty, I grab the back of his head, pull his face to mine and his tongue drives deep, seeking, searching, finding me. My panties are instantly soaked from the aching drive between my legs. His hands are on my back, my ass, my breasts.

"Oh my God, Chloe," is all he says before grabbing me up in his arms again and pressing his lips to mine, over and over.

The coolness of the late afternoon breeze makes the heat of his thumb on my neck delicious. My hands cup his face and then I brush his hair back with my fingers. It’s the first time since I fled that I've been alone with him when he wasn't drug-groggy.

Pulling back, I launch into what I've been preparing for two weeks. My hands are clasped at the back of his neck and I look deep into those brown eyes. He needs to hear everything I have to say.

He doesn’t have to ask me to promise I'll never leave again.

He knows I never will. But there are things to be said.

"I've missed you. I'm so sorry I ran. I am so sorry you got shot because of me. I ran because of Claire and Cory, and Laurel and Devon. I ran because I knew Reed was nuts. And then when I felt that bullet hit you—it's like it hit me, and I—"

He takes my hands down from his neck and holds them.

"Let it go, Chloe. I did what I had to do to keep you safe."

"But you nearly died."

"Not your fault. My decision."

"But—"

"No." He draws me in tighter, so close his lips are by my ear. "If I had to do it over, I'd do it again. Nothing would change. I meant what I said." He pauses for a moment, pulls back, cups my face in his hand, and drinks me in like no man has ever done before. His other hand comes up under my sweater along my spine sliding between my shoulder blades, arching me up and closer.

"And I said what I meant: I love you."

I'm quivering from head to toe. My thighs shake in expectation. Warm heat wells from between my legs. This man, this hulk of a man loves me. Loves me.

I stand next to him at the helm while he pilots the boat a little further North. About fifteen minutes later, he cuts the engine again, puts his hand at the back of my head, and pulls me in for another sweet, long kiss. This time, his tongue probes gently and my heart tumbles behind my ribs.

He steps away and releases the anchor.

"We're staying put for a while," he says. "I figured you'd be okay with that."

My nipples harden under my sweater.

When we go below, he spies the bottle of red wine and the two glasses, one already utilized.

He shrugs off his coat as I unzip my pants. The wind is starting up and it's getting choppy out there. As I drop my jeans, he catches a sleeve to the sweater and uses it as leverage to pull the rest of my sweater up over my head.

I just have my bra and wet panties on now.

Gently I unzip his sweater. There's no shirt underneath, the sight of his chest, wide, muscled, and tense makes me gasp. He's pretty healed up, with just an angry pink splash on his side where the bullet grazed him, and some very pink splotches where the bullets struck. I gently pull his sleeves down and off, placing my hands on his biceps.

His head dips, he kisses me and then I lead him to the bed in the back of the cabin.

With his gaze never leaving my face, he lies on the bed and I straddle him, take his hands and pull his arms slightly above his head. His head tips up to kiss me.