Page 23 of Ambrosia Kisses
Paisley's curled up onthe porch swing with a glass of wine when I jog up the steps to her cabin a little after dark. The chains creak faintly as she rocks it back and forth, her hair up in a ponytail. She's changed clothes since I saw her a couple of hours ago. Instead of a skirt and blouse, she's in shorts anda T-shirt with bare feet. Her toenails are painted bright red…the same way they were three years ago.
I fight a groan at the reminder of how those sexy little toes feel digging into my back. It's not like I've ever been able to forget, though. Just like I've never forgotten the exact cadence of her moans, or the two little freckles on her inner thigh, or the way she quivered and whimpered when I sank my teeth into them.
"Hey," she mumbles, sitting forward slightly when I lean up against the post across from her.
"Got the tire changed for you," I murmur, placing her keys on the railing beside me. "I parked the car outside the winery in the usual spot."
"Thanks. How much do I owe you?"
"You don't owe me anything, Dimples," I say, frowning. "I don't want your money." God knows, I have plenty of my own. I don't need hers. The only thing I've ever wanted from her is her.
And I fucked that all up.
I've been kicking my own ass since she told me what really happened, regretting like hell that I ran instead of storming out of the truck that day to demand answers. Had I just fucking pushed through the fear, none of this would have happened. She'd still be in my arms. She wouldn't hate me.
"What do you want, Ridley?" she asks, her voice soft, her gaze probing, as if she's really trying to figure me out. As if I'm a stranger standing in front of her instead of the man who knows exactly how to make her melt.
"A time machine would be nice."
"Fresh out," she says, tipping her glass up to take a sip. She eyes me over the rim. "What would you do with it if you had one?"
"Go back to that morning, when I was watching you sleep. You looked so fucking sweet wrapped around my pillow, mumbling my name," I rasp, my hands curling around the porch railing asif that'll stop me from reaching for her. "I'd kiss you awake and ask you to wait for me."
"You think it'd change anything?"
"I fucking hope so." I swallow hard. "Christ, Paisley, I'm so goddamn sorry. I should have gotten out of the truck. I should have just fucking confronted you and asked who he was." I laugh abruptly, a pained, humorless sound. "I should have fought for you."
She dips her head, strands of hair falling across her face to obscure her eyes from me. "Why didn't you?"
"I…" I swallow again. "I saw the note you left, and then I saw you with him. I guess I thought the note was your way of letting me know that we weren't as serious as I thought we were. I thought you chose him." I shake my head, trying to put my thoughts in order. "As much as that fucking killed me, I just wanted you happy. If I wasn't the one who could give you that…. No, that's not true." I pause for a moment. "I saw you with him, and I wanted to fucking kill him, Dimples. I knew if I got out of the truck, I would have. I'd have broken your heart just to keep you from being with him, and I couldn't do that to you. As much as I hated him, I didn't want to be the prick who took him from you, so I walked away instead. It was the only thing I knew how to do to make you happy. At least, I thought I was giving you what made you happy."
"You made me happy," she says softly.
I groan quietly, my damn heart aching like a motherfucker. "I wish to God that I'd known he was your brother. Everything would be different if I had. I didn't run to Italy because I had doubts about us. I left because I couldn't sleep in my bed, knowing you were all over it. I couldn't walk through the vineyard with memories of you haunting me. And I fucking stayed gone because I knew if I didn't, I'd track him down and kill him just for touching you when I couldn't."
"He died," she whispers.
I snap my head up, meeting her gaze. "What?"
"My brother."
"Jesus, Paisley." I stare at her in shock.
A sad, haunting simile of a smile twists at her lips. "He came to tell me bye that day because his unit was being shipped overseas to help with a hostage rescue. He was killed in action a week later by a sniper."
"I'm so fucking sorry, baby," I whisper. "Christ, I'm sorry."
"Me too." She reaches up to thumb away a tear, and I crack.
I cross the short distance between us, taking the wine glass from her hand to set it on the railing. And then I pull her up from her seat and into my arms. She's tense at first, but then she sighs and burrows into me, her face against my throat as I wrap my arms around her.
Regret chokes me as she trembles in my arms. Goddamn, I have so much to regret. So many things I've missed. And for what? Why? Because I saw her with someone and came face to face with just how far I was willing to go to keep her? I was terrified I'd smother her light just to keep it for myself, destroying her in the process.
And I was wrong the whole fucking time. About everything. Running didn't solve anything. It didn't make her any happier. It certainly didn't fucking make me happy. I was miserable without her…and maybe that's what I deserved. Because whatever I felt doesn't even compare to what she was going through here. Alone.
She lost her brother…and I didn't even know.
Why the fuck didn't anyone tell me? Ha. Do I even have to ask? They thought they were protecting her from me after I left like I did. I didn't deserve to know anything about her. I wasn't worthy of her.
