Forever Love on Fireweed Island (Island County Book 4) (16 page)

His tongue slowly traced his lower lip, and I wanted nothing more than to feel those soft lips against mine.

My heart plummeted when his other hand dropped from my waist, but he didn’t leave. Instead, I saw desire steaming through his gaze, and my entire world stood still.

Without another second passing by, his hands cupped my chin, bringing me in as I gazed into his eyes. The longing I saw in his expression filled me with an intoxicating sense of need.

I sucked in a deep breath just as his lips pressed down to mine. They were even softer than I’d imagined, but the want behind his kisses ignited something deeper in me. I wanted to be possessed by him. I wanted to give myself to him.

I wrapped my arms around his neck, and his lips parted, sweeping his tongue slowly along mine. Jake’s hands still clutched my cheeks as my lips opened. Tasting the sweetness of his kiss as I tilted my head and feeling his tongue trace along mine, I knew everything with Jake would be more.

I leaned into his body, my arms still looped around his neck as I felt his arousal press against me, and I no longer only wanted to be kissed by Jake. I felt the tension in his shoulder muscles ease as our kisses deepened, and I loved the fact that I could make him want me as bad as I wanted him.

Kissing Jake Harlen held the same mystery I felt since meeting him. I wanted more. I wanted him to keep turning the pages, and he did. Each kiss claimed me as his mouth hungrily searched for more permission, which I gladly gave.

When his mouth parted from mine, it left my lips tingling and almost numb, but I didn’t want it to end.

Jake’s smoldering gaze almost made me melt into the surf as he studied me. Our kiss had felt more powerful than any kiss I’d ever experienced before. There was greediness and satisfaction behind it, but he left me wanting more.

So much more.

His hands ran through my hair, and tingles ignited through my entire body as I silently begged to be kissed again. His mouth parted, but not for a kiss this time.

“For once in my life, I’m starting to feel like I’m finally at home,” he whispered before pressing his lips down to mine once more.

Then there were those moments when a person wondered what the heck went wrong? The kiss seemed out of this world. I knew he enjoyed himself, we had fun at the party, and he dropped me off at my house, giving me one last out-of-this-world kiss, and then . . .

Nothing.

Not a call, not a text, no stopping by the library to say hi. What the heck? The words he uttered that night ran through my mind nonstop . . .

Until he didn’t ever reach out.

It had been a week of silence, and now I was sitting in my living room on this lovely Saturday working on some blog posts and wondering if I should make my way over to the farmer’s market. Part of me didn’t really want to run into Jake’s mom in case she happened to have a booth there this weekend, but the other part of me wanted to run directly into Jake so I could show him how unfazed I was by not hearing from him.

It also very well could’ve been that I had been a little friendlier to BlznBookie throughout most of the week. He happened to reach out last Monday on my theory about applying expectations for books to humans.

I didn’t have the heart to tell him it was a short-lived theory.

Or maybe it wasn’t. Maybe I was subconsciously looking for a rebound guy and found one. Sometimes, that happened with certain books I’d read. I’d need a cooling-off period before I started into another heavy story.

Rather than have my insides shredded into a million little pieces, Jake could be my baby step back into the dating world . . . see him once a week or so without placing any restrictions or parameters on where the relationship was headed, because it wasn’t a relationship and wasn’t headed anywhere. It was a rebound, which would explain all the bottled up chemistry between us.

Yes. Exactly! Why didn’t I think of that earlier this week?

It didn’t help that for some reason, Nick had decided to take on the mission of vetting BlznBookie. I made him promise not to reach out in any way whatsoever, but Nick’s promises weren’t exactly something a person could depend on, and that had made me nervous all week, but BlznBookie never mentioned receiving any odd texts.

My friends weren’t in the blogging world, so they didn’t understand that this truly was Walter King, and there would be nothing for him to gain by not being himself with me. My Facebook messenger dinged, and I glanced down to see a message from BlznBookie.

He was online right now. Very rarely were we ever online at the same time, and now, my entire body went crazy with nerves.

I got hot all over at the thought of messaging live with a man whom I’d never met but who I imagined to be ultra sexy and completely capable. If Jake had reached out sometime this week, I might even feel a little guilty for responding to BlznBookie. But Jake apparently had better things to do, and BlznBookie was ready to chat now, and so was I.

I chuckled, realizing Walter was never the name that popped into my head when thinking of this mystery author. I wondered if I did meet him, would I even be able to call him Walter or Walt? Or would it always be Blzn?

I opened the message and read it quickly.

I finished that book you recommended, and you were right. It pulled out all kinds of emotion. Do you realize how difficult it was to read a book like that with a cover that left little to the imagination, all the while spending a few days at a camp full of men used to scaling mountains? I never would’ve lived it down. My reputation was at stake.

I giggled and began typing back.

There’s this cool thing called a Kindle. Maybe you’ve heard of it? No one would see the cover unless you showed it to them. No accidentally rummaging through your sleeping bag to find a historical romance with pages pinched down. Truthfully, I think you just liked the idea of getting caught with a historical romance between your hands.

I saw the bubbles spike across the laptop screen. He was texting right back, and my entire body filled with something I couldn’t put my finger on. It was excitement mixed with maybe trepidation?

I’d certainly get a bit more peace and quiet if they’d found out. I could have had a tent all to myself. What was I thinking? So, any hot off the press recommendations coming up this weekend?

Giddiness spread through me, and my fingers tingled from this week’s releases. I had my teaser all set up for Tuesday, and I couldn’t wait to post my thoughts on a true crime book I just finished last night. The story scared the crap out of me, but I couldn’t stop reading it. I also slept with all my upstairs windows closed last night too.

I read a true crime novel that has made even going to the grocery story a scary thing to do.

He wrote back.

Those always freak me out. I might pass on it.

I didn’t blame him but quickly messaged back.

The good news is they caught the creep.

I shuddered, remembering back to exactly how they tracked him down and where he was hiding. He’d built a shack deep in the Cascade Mountains, and some hikers happened to find it and some disturbing keepsakes. Yeah, I’d definitely be sleeping with my upstairs windows locked for quite some time.

Try not to scare yourself to death. I’m headed out for a quick errand. Enjoy the rest of your Saturday.

That was nice and innocent.

You too.

I closed my messenger and took in a deep breath, stretching my arms toward the ceiling. Maybe a nap would be nice. Right when I’d settled on that idea, a knock at my front door startled me straight off the couch. I never should’ve brought up that crime story. Now, I was going to be a nervous wreck for who knew how long.

I peeked out the window and saw Jake standing on my porch. In sheer panic, I rolled the rubber band I’d put around my wrist onto my fingers and threw my hair forward and twisted it in a quick bun. I glanced in the tiny decorative mirror I had by the door and rolled my eyes. Somehow, makeup hadn’t managed to put itself on me this morning.

Great, I had on yoga shorts, an oversized Budweiser shirt, and flip-flops to greet the hottest guy on the island while he looked absolutely sexy in nothing more than a pair of board shorts and a black t-shirt.

“I can see you in there. Is this a bad time?” His voice was so sexy, it made me do things I wouldn’t normally do, like open the door looking like this.

“I’m here,” I grumbled, swinging it open.

A muscle twitched along his neck before he smiled. “Not happy to see me?”

His eyes ran down my body and made it very apparent how short my yoga shorts were. It was too late to tug on them, so I cleared my throat. He brought his gaze back to mine, but he was completely unable to hide his smile.

“I’m surprised to see you. That’s all.” My brows arched. “It’s been crickets since you know . . . Forgotten Cove.”

“Sorry. That wasn’t cool of me. I had a trip off the island and time got away from me. I thought it might be better to show up and explain.”

“I’m not mad. No reason to be.” I shook my head, crossing my arms.

“This isn’t being “mad”?” He gestured with his fingers, smiling.

I laughed. “I’d probably scare you off the island if I were angry. It’s not a pretty sight. I’ve been told steam comes out my ears.” I glanced across the street at the mailman, who was delivering a package. “I am a teensy bit surprised I didn’t hear from you, but it was just a kiss, so I totally get it. I’m not a stage-three clinger. I promise.”

He scratched the scruff along his jaw with his fingers and let out a deep sigh.

“It wasn’t just a kiss to me. I don’t generally make a habit of going around kissing women. Truthfully, I haven’t been able to get you out of my mind all week.” His voice stirred an emotion I’d tried to keep capped off for years.

Hopefulness.

“I’m not sure saying that’s going to help your cause,” I teased. “You’re supposed to call the girl you’re interested in.”

He nodded, biting his lip. “I’ve been living by my own rules a little too long.”

“It’s really not a big deal. I’m not expecting much.”

Jake flinched at my words, and I stood straighter.

“Look, I’m not ready for a relationship. This just proves it. I need a sexy rebound guy, and one with even less complication would be better. So, if you travel a lot . . .” I smiled. “That would be ideal, and then I can prepare for my five-year plan.”

“Five-year plan?” His brows pinched together.

“Yeah. There’s this book that talks about the different kind of personalities and what each type tends to do when dating after divorce.”

“Really. Isn’t it something I should read?” he joked.

“Probably not.” I shook my head. “You wouldn’t like the picture they’d paint of you.”

“Well, now I have to read it.” He laughed, crossing his arms.

I giggled unexpectedly and slipped my arms to my sides.

“So, rebound guy?” He watched me carefully without a hint of what he thought about the idea.

I twisted the smile on my lips into a pout and he laughed.

“The notion had popped into my mind a time or two.”

“You are full of surprises.” His mouth twitched into an almost smile.

“Yes, that’s me. I’m a fearless librarian full of surprises. Anyway, what made you think to drop by?”

I hoped I played it casual enough. I was so out of the game.

“Actually, I stopped by to see if maybe you’d like to come over for dinner tonight. I wanted to explain where I was and why I didn’t reach out.”

“Oh, well. I should’ve let you start with that.”

“Do I still have a chance at being your rebound guy?” His brows furrowed together, and my eyes wandered to his mouth.

“We’ll see.”

He let out a low laugh.

“So tonight, huh?” I glanced at the little bookshelf that still had the lavender arrangement on it.

“Yeah.”

“What time?” I asked.

“Whenever you want. I don’t need much time to prepare dinner.” His eyes fell to my bookshelf, and I followed his gaze. “Is that the book you posted about on your blog last week?”

He remembered?

“Yep. That’s the one. Wanna borrow it?” I goaded him. It was the same historical romance BlznBookie read, and I highly doubted it was Jake’s preferred reading material.

“Actually, yeah.”

“Really?” I asked, surprised.

He nodded, so I invited him in.

“I was thinking we could do a book swap,” he said, shoving his hand through his blond hair.

“Book swap?” I turned to face him.

“Yeah. I try some books you recommend from your shelves, and when you come over to my house, I’ll lend you some of mine.”

I sucked in a deep breath. I was very particular about who I loaned my books to—so particular, in fact, that I didn’t lend books to anyone. Yes, I see the irony in being a librarian who refuses to lend books, but there’s a difference between my bookshelves and the library’s.