Don't Promise (Don't 3)

“I missed you.” I growled into her neck. “More than I can say in words or in a song. There’s only one way to show you, darlin’.”

Sierra leaned into my body. “So can we get out of the freezing cold and can finish this somewhere else?”

“Hell yeah, I wanna go.” I placed Sierra’s feet back on the ground and took her hand. “Come on.”

Sierra looked at her car and then back to me. “You want to take my car? I don’t see your truck anywhere.”

“Girl, you have been gone way too long. You know the best way to travel around here is by boat.” I flashed her a smile. “We’ll get your car later. Come on.” I tugged on her hand.

Sierra followed me down the boardwalk to the slip where I had tied up my boat.

“Let me untie the ropes, and I’ll shove her off. Hold on.” I held out a hand to Sierra. Before she boarded, she glanced down at the side of the nameless boat we had cruised on so many times over the summer.

Sierra settled into the bench next to my captain’s seat. I tossed the ropes into the boat and started the engine.

The boat picked up speed, and the fall night encircled us as I cruised us out onto the open sound.

As soon as we docked, I helped her into my truck. I couldn’t get her inside fast enough.

“Cole told me you were at the Dock House. I don’t know if he’s still at your place.”

“Got it.” I steered my truck toward the end of Gull Island. Toward Lindy’s house. It was Sierra’s now.

Sierra climbed the stairs and opened the back door. I didn’t let her get far over the threshold before I snaked my arms around her and dragged her lips to mine. It was dark and cold inside, but I had enough pent up sexual frustration and heat for this woman to burn down the whole fucking house.

My hands landed on the button of her jeans. “I want you now,” I growled.

“Wait. Wait a second.” She took a big breath, pressing her palms into my chest.

I groaned. “We can talk later.”

She shook her head. “No. I have to tell you, Blake. Please. I-I have to say it.”

I dropped my hands. “Ok. What is it?”

“I need to at least see your face.” She tried to flip on the lights, but nothing happened. She looked at the ceiling. “Great.”

“Let me check the breaker box. Hold on.”

I used my phone to light a path to the linen closest off the back of the kitchen. It smelled like fresh laundry even though the house had been closed up for months. I opened the box, but all the switches were on. I tried the main breaker. Nothing.

I heard Sierra’s footsteps behind me. “What’s wrong with the power?”

“I think it’s been cut off.”

“What?”

“Have you been paying the power bills?” I asked.

She scrunched her face up. “I thought I did. I don’t know. There has been so much mail about the estate. Shit.” She sank onto a bench under a stack of blankets.

I was conflicted. Why was she here? She hadn’t bothered to pay the damn power bill.

“I think there are some candles in here.” She stood and started searching one of the cabinets. “They used to be in here with the matches for hurricanes. Aunt Lindy had everything we ever needed for a storm.” She strained to make it to the top cabinet.

“Let me get that.” I reached over her head and pulled out a stack o

f candles. I handed them to her. “And the matches.”