Dirty, Reckless Love (Boys of Jackson Harbor 3)

That fear was responsible for a shitty night’s sleep, and it won’t leave my brain this morning either.

Neither Ava nor I woke up in any rush to leave. Yesterday, on the drive down, I told myself I just wanted to know Ellie was okay. I thought if I could just hear her voice and see her face, I’d be able to let her go. I was wrong. She is okay, and she still doesn’t want to be near me. There’s a big, selfish part of me that doesn’t believe that’s possible. A big part of me that doesn’t understand how she could pretend nothing between us matters. But at the end of the day, I have to respect her wishes.

“Let me get that,” I say to Ava, pulling her overnight bag off her shoulder.

“I’m perfectly capable of putting my own bag in the trunk, Levi.”

“And Jake is perfectly capable of knocking out my teeth,” I say with a pointed look at her stomach. “Let me do the grunt work. It’s my job as your future brother-in-law.”

“I’ll remember this when I need help building the set for Wicked,” she says, grinning.

“You’re leaving?”

I still at the familiar voice—too scared it might not be her—but Ava turns. Her hand goes to her mouth, and tears spring into her eyes.

I force myself to draw in a breath and turn as well. There she is—Ellie Courdrey. As beautiful as the night we met and as much of a puzzle now as she was then.

“I drove around until I saw your Mustang. I probably should have called.” Her gaze shifts between Ava, me, and the car.

“That would require you to use the phone.” I know how hard my voice sounds, but I don’t care. She’s been pulverizing my heart from the moment she put on his ring, and I’m tired of pretending her decisions aren’t killing me.

“I know.” She clears her throat. “I turned it on today for the first time. Thanks for the messages,” she says to Ava. “I appreciate you thinking about me.” She shifts her gaze to me. “You too.”

I hold her gaze. Not touching her is a physical ache. I want to step closer, but I don’t trust myself to keep my hands to myself. Ellie doesn’t look away, and energy zaps between us like a live wire.

“Can I hug you?” Ava asks Ellie.

I don’t know if I’m upset Ava broke the moment or relieved. I could get so lost in Ellie’s eyes, I’d be trapped in the memories.

“Um, yeah. Sure,” Ellie says.

Ava rushes forward, wrapping her into a tight squeeze. Ellie’s return hug is tentative. “I’m so sorry I’ve been selfish,” Ava says. “Of course you’re scared after what happened to you. And I just . . .” Shaking her head, she pulls away. “You do what you need to do. We’ll be there when you’re ready.”

Ellie nods. “Thank you. You’re a good friend.” Awkward. Stilted. Like she’s respondin

g to a complete stranger. Could so much change in six weeks?

Ava winces. She feels it too. “Maybe I should leave you two alone. I need to go clean up breakfast anyway.” She disappears back into the house where there’s nothing to clean up but possibly some carryout wrappers and some crumbs on the counter. I know she’s giving us the time we need to clear the air. There aren’t enough hours left in the day.

“I’m glad I caught you before you left.” Ellie bites her lip and lowers her voice. “Your text message said I never let you say goodbye, and I thought . . .” She cuts her eyes away, her cheeks blooming pink.

I’m hit with a flash of memory so sweet that it makes my chest tighten. Her cheeks flushed in the moonlight, her eyes on mine as I looked down at her, naked underneath me. “No regrets.”

I should never have asked for a promise she wasn’t ready to make.

“After I turned on my phone and saw the texts from you and Ava,” Ellie says, “I felt bad for just disappearing from your life. You’re right. That wasn’t fair.” She drops her gaze to her feet. “I’m here so you can say goodbye. So I can say goodbye to you.” When she steps forward, she lifts her eyes to meet mine. Soft blue eyes and parted pink lips. “I owe you that.”

There’s so much I want from her—another night under the stars, another chance to explain how I feel. I want promises for the future and explanations of the past. I want so much, but her goodbye is nowhere on that list.

“I can’t tell you how badly I want to kiss you.” I should back up, put some distance between me and temptation. “But I don’t even know if you’d want me to. Or if you’d let me.”

“Kiss me?” she says, and I can’t tell if it’s a question or permission.

I slowly lower my head, leaning my forehead against hers, and she stills. “I wish you would come home.”

“I can’t.” She puts her palms against my chest. I hold my breath, waiting for her to push me away. She doesn’t.

Burying my nose in her hair, I breathe her in, desperate to get as close to her as possible after a long night of trying to convince myself to let go. “Your family took you away. I thought I’d lost you, and they wouldn’t let me see you.” Slowly, I sweep my mouth down the side of her neck, then follow the trail across her jaw and toward the kiss I shouldn’t take but can’t resist.