Page 94 of Fallen Hearts

I thought of Pia under me, hands gripping the pillow she lay on from both sides. Arching into me. Screaming my name.

Nah. I wouldn’t be bored here.

Bring your stuff for the weekend.

As soon as the words left my mouth, I’d wanted to take them back. Was I crazy? Here Pia was giving us space, and I was actively attempting to close it. I might as well ask her to permanently stay at the inn, like the guys. And then what? Tell her I loved her? Ask her to marry me?

Fuck.

“Maybe,” I acknowledged. “My dad did hire a manager who is very capable.” In more ways than one. “So either way, I don’t have to sell.”

“That’s great news,” he said.

I watched a rowboat make its way slowly past in front of me, down by the lake. Could this be more different than my apartment in the city?

Not a chance. The two places, lifestyles, were like night and day.

“You can have the best of both. Your dad’s inn. And the job. What’re ya waiting for?”

Good question.

“It’s just a lot to consider,” I hedged, not answering him directly. “I’ll sort it out soon.”

“If you need anything in the meantime, you know where to find me.”

“At the deli?” I asked, referring to the deli just next to the station.

“Funny, Bennett.”

I thought so.

“Thanks for calling, Cap.”

“Just get your ass back here, will ya?”

“Yeah, yeah,” I said, noncommittally. “Talk soon.”

“Over,” he said, hanging up.

I put down the phone. Stared out at the lake. The property. My home. Blinking, I saw my dad sitting on the edge of the dock, fishing. I couldn’t tell if he looked peaceful, or sad. Maybe a little of both? He’d been sitting like that the day I realized he was never going to give up loving my mother, despite the fact that she’d been gone for more than ten years at that point. I’d asked him point-blank if he ever planned to date again, having heard from the grapevine a certain town widow had asked him out. A teacher with two grown children. A pretty woman who might have been perfect for him. I assured my father I was fine with him dating, but he’d said, “Thanks, son, but it’s not for me.”

Heartbreak. Cheating. Divorce. It was a stupid college pact, and yet…

“There you are.”

I turned toward the sound of her voice. The combination of hearing her, seeing her and, as she walked toward me, smelling the scent that was uniquely Pia… my chest constricted in much the same way as it had the night before.

Heartbreak.

Love.

The two were, for all intents and purposes, one and the same.

“I brought clothes for the weekend,” she said, almost shyly.

I could have kicked myself. Why had I blurted that? Was I a glutton for punishment, wanting what I could only have for a short time? Because there was no doubt in my mind, whether it was in a few weeks, or months, or even years, something would fuck this up. And it would shatter me.

“Good,” I said, oddly meaning it even as these thoughts ran through my head. Because other ones replaced them as Pia leaned down to kiss me, like it was the most natural thing in the world. As our lips parted, our tongues tangled, I pulled her onto my lap.

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