Caspian (Carolina Reapers 8)

“I do like me some pie,” I agreed. What would another week or so cost me? The cancellation fee on an airplane ticket? Well worth it if it meant I didn’t have to say goodbye to Ryleigh yet, if it meant I had time to show her exactly what she deserved so she’d never be tempted to go back to douchebag-Chuck again.

“What are you saying?” she asked, her fingers biting into my neck slightly, pulling me closer just how I liked.

“I’m saying—” I dipped my head low and kissed her. “That the right pair of lips might be able to talk me into staying for a bit.”

Fuck the houseplants. Maxim had a key. He could water them.

The smile she gave me nearly took me out at the knees. “Then allow me to convince you.”

She kissed me slow and deep, twining her tongue with mine. It was all I could do to keep myself from carrying her off the dance floor and into the very same barn where she’d taken enormous pleasure in interrupting me with other girls in high school. Never in a million years had I guessed there would be a day when Ryleigh was the only woman I wanted in those haystacks.

“If you’re done making out, we’re going to cut the cake,” London said as she passed by.

Ryleigh and I broke apart, grinning at each other. Even if I only had another few weeks with her, it was better than nothing. Better than saying goodbye tonight.

“Caz,” she said, leaning her forehead against mine.

“Ryleigh.”

“Cancel your flight.”

I did.

12

Ryleigh

“I think you need one of these,” Caspian said, grinning down at me as he guided me over to one of the booths set up for the Fourth of July festival. He plucked a small, handcrafted bracelet, the glass beads the same shade of green as my eyes and it had a small flame charm in the center. “This would be perfect because you love creating stuff with fire.”

My heart expanded in my chest at how effortlessly he said the words, and how easily he’d picked out something that I would have picked out for myself. “You don’t have to spoil me, you know,” I said, stepping into his space and running my hands over his strong chest. “I like you without the gifts.”

A flash of seriousness churned in his eyes but it was gone in a blink, and he turned to the vendor. “We’ll take this one,” he said, and the vendor grinned, taking his cash and asking if he wanted to box it up. He shook his head, sliding the bracelet over my wrist and drawing it up to his lips. He planted a kiss just above it, the simple, easy gesture making my toes curl in my shoes.

It had been a week of this. Him and me and nothing but fun. We’d had nights in, where we stayed up almost till dawn just reconnecting, sharing stories from our lives in the time we’d been separated. We had nights out, where we danced at the local bar. Quiet, easy lunches, and fiery passionate nights. And somewhere along the way—probably after the first time he’d kissed me, if I was being honest—I no longer cared about how we originally came together. I cared about Caspian, far more than I wanted to admit.

“Thank you,” I said, slightly breathless as he dropped my wrist, taking my hand and leading us down the sidewalk where dozens of vendors had set up. “You really didn’t have to buy me anything,” I said again, wanting him to know that. With his celebrity athlete status, there was no telling how many women used him for his money. And I wasn’t one of them.

“I wanted to,” he said, smiling and nodding to a few of the vendors as we passed. “You don’t have to worry, Ryleigh,” he said, squeezing my hand. “I know you’re not with me for the money.”

I blew out a breath, my heart clenching at his words. Was I with him? I mean, we hadn’t really defined anything, and I was way too terrified to admit to him that I’d long since stopped caring about our initial plan—me getting Chuck back. I didn’t want him, I’d wanted that dream of stability. And now that I’d let that go, my heart was free to want other things. Things I had no business wanting because Caspian was leaving. Sure, he’d decided to stay for longer than he initially thought, and yes, we’d had an amazing stress-free week together, but it didn’t change things.

He was still an NHL star with an obligation to his team, and I was still the girl from his small hometown, unsure of what the hell I wanted to do with my life. I had too many people’s voices in my ear—my mom, encouraging me to chase after my art aspirations, my ex, telling me I was too strict with my plans, and the voice of my father, telling me I should do whatever makes me happy in the moment because the next second is never guaranteed.