CHAPTERTHREE
Becca
What the heck am I doing?
I didn’t plan to give him a fake name, and I didn’t plan to lead him to the cute garden area at the back.
But when I saw him, standing there with his iron hair and his intense eyes, staring like he hated me, like he was freaking angry or something….
When I saw him, the man I’ve dreamed about every single night since I left, I panicked.
No, I freaked.
I could barely talk. And then I realized he didn’t even know who I was. So the name came out, just like that, blurted before I had a chance to think about what I was saying, what I was doing.
I silently pray that there are other partygoers in the pond area. And yet a part of me – the deep-rooted part which pulses every time I think about him – hopes the exact opposite.
We’ll be alone, and then….
And then what?
What’s my long-term plan here?
I can’t let him believe I’m somebody else forever.
We round the corner, the small pond coming into view. The garden is wilder around the edges, weeds growing, scaling the walls, the grass longer.
My chest tightens when I realize we’re alone. The sounds of the party seem distant, from a different world.
When I turn, I find him staring at me.
I almost melt, gazing at him with my body thrumming, my thoughts expanding with everything that could happen. But then I have to remind myself.
He wouldn’t be here if he knew who I was.
He thinks I’m June, the first name that came to my head.
He steps forward, looking powerful in his pale blue shirt. His sleeves are rolled up, his shirt open at the top, giving me a glimpse of his chest muscles. He seems bigger than I remember, his clean-shaven jaw tight, his eyes narrowed as he stares captivatingly.
“Do you like it?” I ask.
He takes another step, so close I could reach out and touch him. Maybe another woman would. She’d have that courage, the confidence to believe he’d touch her back, kiss her, respond to her attention.
But that isn’t me. It’s difficult enough just to meet his gaze.
“It’s beautiful,” he says, but he never takes his eyes off me.
“I prefer it back here,” I say quickly. “It’s better for photos. It’s so wild, so…so untamed, you know?”
I wonder if he guesses I’m secretly talking about him. I wonder how he’d feel if he knew.
“Untamed.”
He smirks, making my legs tingle, my sex flutter, and my soul soar.
A silly part of me screams Ben Bradshaw is smiling at me!
“Yeah,” I say. “Don’t you think?”