Page 18 of Winter Memories

The next thing I knew, Fletch was opening my door and pulling me from his truck. “Let me show you?”

There was so much hope in his voice and his eyes that the only thing I could do was nod and be led inside. It wasn’t just the outside that looked like our dream home, it was everything. Every detail in every room proved he remembered every whispered word, all the big dreams and hopes we had for our future became something real.

When he was done with the tour, I turned toward him and cupped his jaw in my hands. “You built the house we always dreamed of?”

“I did,” he searched my face, probably wondering what I was thinking.

“How?” He opened his mouth to answer, and I shook my head. “Didn’t it hurt you to live here? In our dreams?”

Fletcher swallowed hard and nodded slowly. “There were days it was like a knife to the chest, but,” he paused and took a deep breath, “I think I always held out hope that you would come home. I told myself I let you go, I had to, but the truth is I never did.”

I tipped up on my tiptoes and kissed him softly, unsure of how else to tell him exactly how much standing in the middle of our deferred dreams come to life meant to me. He kissed me back,but before it could progress farther, the front door opened, and Huxley and Macklin’s laughter had us pulling apart. Fletcher didn’t let me go far and while Mack didn’t seem to notice anything, the knowing look Huxley shot us spoke volumes.

We spent the afternoon playing games and talking. Macklin soaked up every second of attention he could from Fletcher. He did the same when we went back to the main house for dinner, which he warned me might be box mac-n-cheese since it was Huxley’s night to cook. I only giggled, knowing Macklin would be happy if it was.

I thought for sure I’d head back home after dinner, but Fletcher looked at me, his eyes earnest and pleading, “Stay for the night, Shooting Star. Please?”

It was impossible to say no to him and, if I’m being honest, I didn’t want to. Now I’m nervous and, with Macklin snuggled up in bed in Fletcher’s guest room, I can’t put off facing my past. Isn’t this everything I hoped for when I really allowed myself to imagine what coming back to Wintervale would be like?

I had hoped Fletcher and I could find each other again. It’s not like I ever stopped loving him. He’s been in my heart our whole lives and the time we lost, the time we robbed ourselves of, hasn’t changed the way I feel about him.

I’m just scared. I won’t be able to survive losing him again.

Should I be concerned about this moving too fast? I just moved back, but I’ve known Fletcher forever. Wouldn’t it be worse for me to not jump in with both feet? I don’t believe Fletcher would ever let me fall; he’ll catch me.

When I stand and turn around, knowing I can’t put this off any longer, I gasp softly at finding Fletcher with his dark intense eyes focused on me. His shoulder is leaning against the doorwayand while the stance is easy—and fucking hot as hell—I can see the tension in his body. He’s holding himself back, but I desperately want him to lose control.

He holds out a hand for me and I know he’s offering me so much more than a hand even though the gesture seems casual. It’s an offering. It’s a chance to have everything I’ve been missing for the last 13 years. It’s what I’ve been dreaming about, always looking for a shooting star to wish upon.

My feet move toward him without me even needing to think about it. The moment I slide my hand into his, his fingers tighten as if he’s afraid I’ll disappear. As he studies my face, it becomes clear I’m not the only one afraid. He is too.

For some reason, the realization eases some of my fears and concerns. We broke each other’s hearts and neither of us were ever able to move on, no matter how hard we tried. Life took us in opposite directions, but our hearts never forgot, our souls always remained entwined.

Fletcher pulls me from the guest room, and I glance over my shoulder one time just to make sure Macklin’s okay. When I look back up at Fletcher as he quietly closes the door, he has a soft, sweet smile on his face.

“You’re a good mom,” he whispers.

It’s not his words which have my throat closing up, it’s the conviction in his voice. He sounds like he would fight anyone who would dare to disagree with his assessment of my parenting skills. I don’t doubt he would.

I can’t seem to form words as he leads me into his bedroom. My eyes widen at the sheer size of the gigantic bed taking up most of the space. It looks like a cloud and the dark wood of the sleigh bed matches the rest of the masculine feel of the room.The colors are a mix of light and dark, but it feels like a sanctuary instead of feeling heavy. I instantly love it and could imagine waking up in this room every day for the rest of my life.

Unlike the rest of the house, this room isn’t exactly like we talked about, but it’s all Fletcher. As it should be.

His arms wrap around me, and he pulls me back flush against his chest. I can feel his hard length against my ass, and I have to bite my lip to stop myself from moaning at the feel of it. It’s been a while since I’ve been with anyone. Even when David and I were trying to be together, a sexual relationship wasn’t part of it which should have been a big fucking clue things weren’t going to work out. I wish alcohol hadn’t played such a big role in the conception of my son, but it’s the truth.

“Fletcher,” I whimper as he buries his face in the crook of my neck.

I can feel the bite of his five o’clock shadow scraping along my skin, and it wakes up every nerve ending in my body. Even if we should be taking this slowly, I don’t want to.

“I just need to hear the words, Shooting Star. We’ll go as slow or as fast as you want but know this is happening between us. Too much time has passed. I won’t let you go a second time,” there’s a desperation in his voice, like he knows exactly what I’ve been thinking and worrying about.

He’s always known me almost better than I know myself.

I turn in his hold and wrap my arms around his neck. “I’m scared, Fletch,” I admit quietly. His eyes flash with sadness, but before he can say anything I shake my head to let him know I’m not done. “I’m willing to be all in with you, but just know I can’t go through losing you again.”

He presses his forehead to mine and takes a deep breath. “We’re not going through that again, Eden,” he sounds so sure that my heart starts to pound in my chest in response. “You’ve always been mine. I had to let you go, but I always hoped you’d make your way back to me, even when it hurt, and I tried to convince myself it wasn’t going to happen. Now you’re here and I’m never letting you go again. You’re stuck with me.”

I smile up at him and tease, “I like being stuck with you.”

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