Wild Kisses (Wildwood 2)

She nodded. “The most poignant ‘Ave Maria’ I’ve ever heard.”

“Wow.” He was speechless.

“And boy did his mood improve. He came in all pissed off, and as soon as he sat down at that piano, it was like flipping a switch. Absolutely amazing.”

“You’re the one who’s absolutely amazing,” he said. “I overreacted this morning. I’m . . . overly sensitive . . . to being lumped in with the ex-con pool, which is stupid, because that’s what I am. I’m sorry for snapping at you.”

“We’re both stretched thin. I can see how difficult it would be to take care of your father on your own.”

He shrugged. “Yeah, well, I was no easier as a kid.”

“That’s not what he says.”

Trace huffed a sarcastic laugh, but a tingle of unease rose along his spine. “Dementia, remember?”

“That’s what I thought at first. When he insisted Zane was the troublemaker of the family, I was sure he had to be mixed up. So when Zane finally showed up tonight, I asked him.”

His unease turned to fear and vibrated in his gut. It wasn’t logical, he knew. But what he’d done to end up in prison hadn’t been logical either. Trace was only beginning to realize how much of what he did in life was rooted in emotion.

Like holding out hope she didn’t pull away when he lifted a hand to brush a lock of hair from her cheek and tuck it behind her ear.

When she leaned into his touch instead of backing off, he asked, “And what did he say?”

“He said I should ask you.”

Trace’s mouth quirked. “He would.”

He was rolling words around in his head, unsure how to get out of this conversation without giving an explanation about something he’d rather forget, when she lifted her hand to cover his and took another step closer. This time, she closed the distance completely, pressing her body to his and slipping her arms around his waist.

That was all it took for Trace’s body to break through the mental restrictions he’d put in place. A craving unique to Avery and getting stronger by the day bubbled low in his gut. Every inch of his body felt tight and hot and hungry. Hungry for the feel of her, the smell of her, the taste of her. He craved the sensation of fulfillment she left in the wake of giving herself over to him.

“You know,” he said, laying his hands on her shoulders, unsure how to push her away without hurting her or pissing her off, yet sure that was exactly what he had to do, “it’s been a really long—”

“I don’t care what your father meant,” she said. “It doesn’t matter. We all made mistakes when we were kids, right?”

He didn’t understand why she always gave him the benefit of the doubt. Why she trusted him at all after what she’d been through with her ex. “I wasn’t a kid when I made my mistakes. I knew better.”

“So did I, but I still did it.”

“You ran off to get married. I . . .” He didn’t want to get into that. “Forget it. That’s beside the—”

“You what?”

“It doesn’t matter.” He looked around the café for something to distract her and allow him to pull away. “Come on—I’ll help you clean up.”

But she wasn’t having it. She locked her arms at the small of his back and pulled his hips into hers. The feel of her supple belly cradling his cock forced blood into all the right—or wrong, depending on how he looked at it—places, and he couldn’t keep his eyes open.

He was gathering the strength to push away, when she said, “You’re right. It doesn’t matter. We all end up where we’re supposed to be eventually.”

Where we are supposed to be?

He opened his eyes to Avery’s light-blue gaze looking up at him with h

eat and affection and need. A need that seemed more emotional than physical. Wrapped in her arms like this, Trace realized she was as close to where he was supposed to be as he’d ever felt.

But Avery was a completely different story. At only twenty-five, with a supportive, loving family behind her, a prosperous new business on the horizon, and her newfound freedom at her fingertips, she was at the launching pad of her life, not the final destination.

“Eventually, I suppose we do.” He ran the backs of his fingers over her cheek. “But you have a lot more life to experience before you’ll know where you’re meant to be.”