Page 148 of The Holiday Heartbreaker

She looked like she didn’t know what to say to that. It seemed fair. He hadn’t known quite what to do with the gift of her virginity. She’d given him her first. He was giving a first by sharing.

“You ever known anybody that’s gone to prison before?” he asked.

She shook her head. “No. What do the tattoos mean?”

He looked over and touched the dragon on his shoulder. “It meant I thought it looked cool, and a guy on the inside knew how to do it.”

“They don’t look like prison tattoos.”

“I thought you said you didn’t know anyone who’d gone to prison.”

“I’ve seen TV.”

“I had them touched up after. Do you judge me?”

He didn’t know why, but it was important to know.

“No. One thing I’ll say about my dad is that he is the least judgmental person on the planet. You know, I don’t really feel like I have to behave because of him. He has always made it very clear that my life is my own, and he will love me no matter what.”

“Even if he finds out you’re depraved?”

She laughed, and wiggled out of his arms. “This feels like a dream. You know, I have a lot of dreams. Sexy ones. I’ve been dreaming about you the last two nights.”

“You’re bolder than I expected you to be.”

“I think mostly because it still doesn’t feel real. This is who I am in my head, it’s just I’ve never been brave enough to be this person outside of my head. Here with you, it all feels the same somehow. Or maybe it’s just because I was so tired. So damned tired of being good all the time.”

He remembered how she was bad for him. And he felt himself getting hard again, in spite of the cold water.

She was a novelty. He didn’t know what it took for novelty to wear off. It hadn’t felt like a novelty after prison. It had felt like an aching, angry need to glut. This wasn’t that. It was something else. Something different.

“What would you say if I told you I was thinking I needed to have you again?”

“I’d say yes,” she said.

He picked her up out of the river and carried her back to the cabin, brought her back to the bed and showed her more. He made her cry out his name over and over again. Until they were both spent. Until she dozed, draped over his chest, the remaining impressions of his fingerprints turning the sides of her hips purple. It was the prettiest thing he’d ever seen.

When it started to get dark outside, she stirred. “Oh no,” she said. “I really do have to go.”

“Why?”

“Because. I usually go and cook my dad dinner on Fridays. He’ll be expecting me.”

Her cheeks turned pink, like she was a little embarrassed to be thinking of her dad right now. And fair enough.

“All right then, better get on.”

She nodded, and started to collect her clothes.

And when she was gone, his house felt...empty. He went and took a can of soup out of the cabinet, then heated it on the stovetop. He took out one of the loaves of bread she’d given him and cut some slices, dipping them into the soup.

And his house felt empty.

It was the weirdest damned thing. He hadn’t remembered the woman existed until three days ago and now his house felt empty without her.

CHAPTER SIX

SHE’D SOMEHOW MANAGED to find something to talk about with her dad through dinner, but it had been hard. She kept replaying what had happened earlier. Over and over again.

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