Page 120 of Undone

“Fuck this.” I grunt, letting her go. My black mood is back. “You’re not going to make this easy for me, are you?”

Her wary eyes meet mine. “I want to believe you, I do. But I just can’t.” Her eyes lower as her hands fidget with the ends of the quilt.

“Damn, baby. I really did break you.”

“You did. So, put me back together.”

“Show me how?”

She picks up my hand, bringing it to her heart. “Here. Start here… not there…,” she touches herself with her other hand making me groan.

“Christ, baby. Putting you back together, just might break me.”

“You’d deserve it.”

“I know. But don’t. Don’t break us, Luce. It’s over now. I want to look ahead, not back. Okay?”

“Okay,” she whispers. I seal our promise with a kiss and wrap my arms around her tight. “Sleep, angel. I’m not going anywhere. I swear.”

“Where are we going now?” I roll my eyes. In the weeks we’ve been back together, Smith has done just about everything he can think of to completely win me back.

“Someplace special.”

“You say that every time.” I smile and press the button, lowering the passenger window.

Spring is in the air.

The snow’s melted.

Birds returned.

My heart is healing but is still wary.

The wind’s in my hair as Smith turns up the music. We fly free down the Interstate with nothing blocking the road ahead.

Suddenly his hot eyes turn to me. “I love you.”

“I know.”

“Do you?”

I swallow hard, staring down at our linked hands, dark hair sprinkles the back of his. The veins pop. My hands are small and soft, dried paint still sticks under my nails. But together—they fit perfectly.

I nod.

He grunts, turning back to the road. I doze off, waking up pressed up against his arm as the truck bounces over a familiar dirt road.

Trapper woofs from the backseat, eager to get out and run as he spots a few baby deer reluctant to stray from their mamas.

Smith shuts the engine off and grips the steering wheel.

“What is it?”

“Nothing I haven’t already said.” He opens his door and lets Trapper out the back and then rounds the truck, opening mine. My chivalrous, wild beast of a man never lets me open any doors. I’d roll my eyes but every time I do, he delights in spanking me. I should’ve known streaming the Fifty Shades of Grey trilogy to watch with him was a bad idea. He’s kinkier than ever.

He takes my hand in his as we follow the sound of Trapper’s excited barks down the path that winds alongside the lake. I inhale deeply, “The smell here. If I could paint it, I would.”

“You can. You can do anything, Luce. Don’t you know that?” He stops, cups my face in his hands and stares deeply into my eyes, “I’d never stop you. Whatever you want to do—I won’t ever stand in your way. You want to teach? Teach. You want to show in a gallery? Do it. If you want to open your own—I’d buy it for you.”

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