Page 128 of The Lost Book of First Loves

She hesitated only for an instant before she wrapped her arms around him with a deep, heartfelt sigh.

She felt right here, somehow. It shouldn’t make sense, he knew, but she felt as if she belonged in his arms.

He held her for a long time, simply offering his strength and comfort. Later, he wasn’t sure if she moved first or if he did, but somehow his mouth was on hers.

She tasted of strawberries and lemons, sweet and tart at the same time—a complex mix that was exactly her.

She returned the kiss, her arms tightening around him, and tenderness flooded through him. She had so much love inside her, this woman he had once been blind enough to think was cool and remote.

They kissed for a long time there in the living area of her father’s writing cabin. It was slow, almost achingly gentle. He wanted her, more than he had wanted anything in a long time, but right then he would have been content to pull her onto his lap on the long sofa and kiss her all night long.

Oh, yes. He was definitely falling in love with her.

“We have to figure out a way to make this work after you return to Seattle,” he murmured.

It was exactly the wrong thing to say. She froze, her body taut suddenly, then she stepped away.

Her mouth looked soft from his kisses, her eyes huge in her slender face as she gazed at him.

“No. No, we don’t.”

“Does that mean you’re staying here?”

She gave an almost violent shake of her head. “You know this can’t work, Beck. I... I care about you, but I have to go back. My life is there. My work.”

He wanted to argue with her, to expound on all the ways couples managed to make the long-distance thing work. He could tell by looking at her sudden panicked expression that there was no point. Not right now.

She wasn’t concerned about their proximity. She was worried about her own vulnerability to him. She didn’t want tocare about him, and no amount of arguing on his point could make that right.

“I’ve hidden out here too long, licking my wounds. I need to get back to my real life. It’s time. Past time.”

He thought of a hundred things he could say, but nothing felt right.

“I hope you’ll give us a chance to say goodbye to you before you leave,” he finally said, his voice low.

“I will. I’m not going to steal away in the night, I promise.”

“My arms are always open, June. No strings. Next time I’ll try not to ruin things by kissing you again.”

“Thank you,” she said. He wasn’t sure if she was thanking him for his offer of comfort and support or for his assurances that he wouldn’t kiss her again.

“Can I offer some advice? Don’t stay up all night reading Carson’s book. You’ve already had a long day. You will have a better perspective if you read it tomorrow, when your brain and your heart aren’t so tired.”

She considered his words and nodded. “You’re probably right.”

“Good night.”

Despite his assurance, he couldn’t resist giving her one more soft kiss at the door before he slipped outside and returned to his pickup truck.

As he drove to his place and let Hank out one more time to do his business, Beck wanted to punch something.

Mostly himself.

How could he have made the colossal mistake of falling for Juniper Connelly?

For five years, he had told himself he was perfectly fine on his own. After Soledad’s death, he had vowed he would never fall in love again. Love made a man far too weak.

He should be relieved June had made it abundantly clear she was ready to walk away and not look back.

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