Page 51 of A Secret Chance
“Why didn’t you?” Charlotte folded her arms across her chest. “Lauren just figured it out, but I’m guessing you knew all along.”
Baxter held onto Charlotte’s arm and led her out of the beer garden. “How could I not?” he whispered once they were far enough away from the noise. “I knew it was her the second I saw her.” The tough woman’s eyes softened. “I was going to tell her. I swear.” He wasn’t lying. Holding Lauren in his arms had felt like the most natural thing in the world. He wanted her there again, and if he was being truthful, he wanted her there forever.
“Mmhmm.” Charlotte pursed her lips. “Sure you were.”
“I didn’t think that she remembered me. And even if she did, the development...” his voice trailed off.
“She remembered a tree planter named Brock. I’m guessing you look a little different than you did back then.” It was true. Even when Baxter saw pictures of himself from those days it felt like he was looking at a stranger. “I told you my real name the other day when you were driving your daughter to school.” The pieces were starting to fall into place.
“Right,” Charlotte said. “But you two, even if you have a history. Do you really think it’s a good idea to be getting all cozy? It’s her job to stop your project. To ruin everything for you.”
“You think I haven’t thought about all that?” Baxter said.
“Well then, what are you doing?”
I think I’m falling in love with your sister, is what he wanted to say. “Charlotte. Tell me where she went.”
“She’s probably at the kids’ park. That’s where she used to go when she needed to think.”
“Where is that?”
“Promise me you won’t hurt her.”
“I won’t hurt her,” Baxter said but wondered if he could keep that promise.
“Over there, just past the ax-throwing stuff.” Charlotte pointed to the corner of the community center building.
“Thanks.” Baxter jogged off.
“Remember that promise,” Charlotte shouted. Baxter raised his hand in acknowledgment but didn’t turn. His boots crunched on freshly fallen snow and he was laser-focused on his mission, to find Lauren Bunkman and tell her that he had never forgotten her.
***
THE SWING SET CREAKEDand Lauren’s feet left long tracks in the snow as they dragged below her. She could hear the music from the dance but couldn’t bring herself to go back to say goodbye to her friends. She rested her cheek against the cold chain and tried to make sense of what was happening to her. Of all the men in the world, why was the one who made her heart race, the one who made her body tingle, the one that made her want to fall into his bed and arms forever, why was it him? What cruel world made the one man who ever meant anything to her, be the man sent to ruin her and her town.
She heard footsteps approaching from behind and sighed, she knew that Charlotte would follow her.
“Char, I just want to be alone,” she said. She kept her gaze on the piles of snow on the front of her boots.
The throat that cleared behind Lauren was low and masculine. She gripped the chains and turned to see Baxter standing behind her. “I can go,” he stated, pointing in the direction of the party.
“I thought you were my sister,” Lauren said.
Baxter bridged the gap between them and took a seat on the swing next to her. “Lauren, I will leave you alone. I promise. There’s just, there’s something that I think we need to get out in the open.”
“What’s that?”
Baxter pushed the swing so that he was swinging at the same slow pace as Lauren. “We can’t keep pretending that we don’t know each other.”
Lauren dug her foot into the ground, stopping the motion of her swing and turned to face Baxter. “I didn’t think that you remembered.”
“How could I forget?” Baxter stood up and walked in front of Lauren, holding onto the chains of her swing, his hands above hers. He was so close she could’ve reached out and touched him. “Lauren, that was the best night of my life. I never once stopped thinking about you.”
Lauren looked up at Baxter. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She assumed that she had just been one in a long line of women. Baxter pulled off his glove and cupped her face in his hand, his thumb rubbing her cheek. She held onto his wrist and looked into his eyes, his body shielding her from the soft snowflakes falling from the sky.
“Baxter, Brock, I...”
“Just shut up and let me kiss you.” Baxter’s lips were on hers before Lauren could finish her sentence. He threw his other glove into the snow and grabbed her face with his other hand. There was an urgency in his kiss, but the softness of his lips surprised her, and she moaned into his mouth. She knew it was wrong, but never having been kissed with such want as if he was a diver and she was his air, she let herself fully go. She held on to him tightly as the kiss turned from one of urgency into one of indulgence, puffs of steam from their raspy breaths swirled together as their lips slowly reacquainted themselves with each other. The rush and tightness in Lauren’s belly tingled lower and she involuntarily arched her back in an attempt to press her hips closer to his. When it actually pushed her body further away, she stood up, her lips never leaving his. “Brock,” Lauren gasped into his mouth. “What are we doing?”
