Page 86 of Every Heartbeat After

I’d wonder what on earth I’m doing here, but then, what else is new? It seems like every second since I saw my brother carted away by two cops from Mississippi has been spent questioning my sanity for one reason or another.

I know I did the right thing. In time I hope Gage will, too. But even if he doesn’t, it has to be enough for me that I did everything I could. I can’t let the actions, or inactions, of others define me anymore. That was never my burden to bear.

That’s what the new therapist says, anyway.

He’d have a field day with this, I’m sure. Me, posted up on the side of the highway that leads into Loveless, having traded assignments with another deputy just to guarantee I’d be in this exact spot per the kernel of hope that I know what Tess is implying.

I reread her text from last night, half expecting the words to change right in front of me. To prove once and for all that I’ve gone insane where she’s concerned.

Tess

Not quite a daiquiri, but I could sure go for a vanilla milkshake. Say, around three o’clock?

Did I make a gigantic leap from that message to assuming it meant she’d behere,inLoveless,at three o’clock? Sure. Would a normal person just wait for her to actually arrive and then make plans to meet up? Also sure.

I’m gone for her in a way that I swore I’d never be again. And the kicker? I don’t regret it one bit.

A car passes every five minutes or so, each one vaulting my pulse into high gear. I’m searching for something,anythingfamiliar. Maybe Zoey slipped out of town to pick her up when I wasn’t looking. Or Gary. Or any number of his countless, conniving friends. If she’s in a rental car, I’m well and truly fucked, but anything is better than not trying at all.

I’m on the clock for thirty more minutes, but duty be damned. I’m not moving from this spot until I know for certain that she’s not coming.

Determined to make a liar out of me, a car darts past me quickly enough that it shakes the SUV. My hands tighten on the sun-warmed steering wheel, knuckles bleaching. I grind my teeth so hard I’m certain my molars will crack. Reasoning that I’ll still be able to spot her from a traffic stop is the only way I convince myself to take off after the guy.

It’s a rural, straightforward highway, so thankfully I don’t have to whip around too many corners to catch up. The speed limit out here is lower than you’d think, and out-of-towners get it wrong all the time. It’s not exactly a high-speed pursuit, but adrenaline still pumps through my veins, tightening its grip on my lungs until I let out a celebratorywhoopwhen the driver sees my lights and hits the brakes.

Like a wild animal who’s given chase, it takes a moment for the fog of excitement and frustration in one to clear from my brain. When it does, I realize that the car is not only the exact make and model that Tess drives, but it has an Alabama license plate. What are the fucking odds of such an unlikely coincidence?

Coincidence. Or fate. After everything that’s happened, who am I to question either?

I don’t bother searching the plate. Under the glare of a hot July sun, I can make out two heads in the car. The window tint makes it difficult, but I swear I see a flash of white-blonde on the driver’s side, and my heart slams against the confines of my ribs.

I rise from my SUV on shaking legs. Though I’d love to blame it on my run this morning, I know it’s more than that. If Iwerean animal, I’d have scented her by now. As it stands, even without a predator’s senses, my entire body knows that it’s her.

Tess is here. In Loveless.

Screw the milkshake currently melting in my center console—mint chocolate chip, which I had to drive two towns over to find, because I know she likes it better than vanilla. Screw the oppressive heat and any cars flying past and whoever else sits in that passenger seat. I stride forward, forgetting every ounce of training in an instant, and rap my knuckles against the driver’s-side glass.

I’ve never seen anything more beautiful than that window rolling down. Like a curtain opening at the beginning of a show, or a magician’s hand unfurling to reveal your card. All things hoped and prayed for. Dreamed up, even after convincing yourself it was in your best interest not to.

“Tess,” I breathe. How many times have I uttered her name through gritted teeth, making do with my hand when all I wanted was her body beneath me? How many times have I typed it out, because I had something I wanted to tell her. Show her. Ask her. Just to backspace it into oblivion so as not to overwhelm her with this simple fact: she is all I’ve been able to think about since I walked away from that resort without her.

“Surprise,” she whispers, the corners of her mouth tilted down. “Are you upset?”

“Upset? Why the hell would I be upset?”

She shrugs. “I did show up without calling first.”

Doesn’t she know she could appear out of thin air and I’d praise whatever miracle worker made it happen? “That’s kind of our thing, wouldn’t you say?”

After a beat, those lips come alive with relief. Her smile is like dawn breaking. Brilliant white teeth. Mouth as pink as a blush, and devastatingly tempting. Dark lashes framing tear-dampened eyes, even greener than I remember them being.

I barely glimpse the woman in her passenger seat—dark hair, fair skin, hands folded together in a giddy clasp—before Tess is grabbing for the door handle and stepping out of the vehicle. Into my space. Where I can finally breathe her in after what feels like a lifetime of waiting.

Her fair brow perks up as she glances at my empty hands. “No milkshake?”

I wish I could wait. Be that kind of gentleman. But I’m not… I can’t. I force my hands into her wild hair and pull her to me, covering her mouth with mine. Sweetness floods my senses. Soft, supple skin. Coconut sunscreen. Moans that bring back a litany of images, all with her sprawled beneath me. Long, long legs and tight pink nipples and her. Always her. In the sunshine. In the salt air. In the rain. In shambles, and in laughter. Breathtaking in every form.

Our tongues tangle. She sighs, and I inhale it like the desperate man I am. I drag my teeth along her bottom lip, then kiss it better. Her hands find my jaw and she holds me there, putting an inch of space between us. Enough that our breath mingles and mixes in the emptiness.

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