WALL MEN: A Haunted House (The Wall Men 1)

It’s late. Grandma Rain is asleep, and Bard’s been avoiding me since I arrived earlier today. Wearing my nightgown and robe, I take the path through the trees and knock on Bard’s door.

I wait and am about to give up on delivering the speech I’ve rehearsed a million times in my head since last Christmas.

The door opens, and a sleepy-eyed, shirtless Bard is standing there in his boxers. I can’t help staring at his beautifully molded abs or the ropes of thick muscles on his arms. He’s too perfect for words.

“Lake? What’s wrong?” He rubs his eyes.

I inhale and spill, “Bard, I love you. I’ve always loved you. And I know there’s an age difference, but I have to know if you might love me, too. If you do, then you need to say so right now. Because I don’t love Dave. But if there’s no chance with you, then I have to move forward with him, even if he’s not the one. I just don’t want to do it with him if it’s something I should be doing with you.”

I danced around that bush big time, but I think he gets what I’m trying to say. I want him to be my first. And if he wants it, too, he has to say so. Now or never.

Bard stares with those cool blue eyes for several long moments. “What are you doing, Lake?”

“What am I doing? I’m pouring my heart out to you.”

“I am twenty-two years older than you.”

No kidding. “Just answer my question. Do you love me?”

He shakes his head no, and I feel my heart shattering. Was it all in my mind? Just wishful thinking?

“I-I see,” I say. “Then please forget this conversation ever happened.” How did I miscalculate so badly? I realize he never showed feelings for me until he saw me with Dave, but I always felt a connection.

I turn to walk away only to be grabbed by the wrist and jerked back.

“I shook my head because I know this is a bad idea,” he says.

The moment makes my head spin—Did he really just say that? I can’t believe it. Yet there’s no mistaking the soft lips and hard kiss taking my mouth. I’m overwhelmed.

He throws me against the side of his house, pushing his body against mine. His hand slides under my robe and cups my breast.

The act fuels my lust and washes over me like a hot wave. I run my hands through his soft long hair and open my mouth to him. This is the kiss I’ve dreamed of for years.

Our tongues lash and slide. I drink in the taste and savor the sweet smell of his skin as he grinds against me.

I’m not sure where this is going, but if it’s just this—kissing, touching, and grinding—I’m all in. All I want is this. Him. Me. Together. I can’t stop needing to be near him. To be by his side. He’s the only one who makes me feel safe.

His hand runs up the side of my leg and cups my ass. I reach for his boxers, wanting to feel his length in my hand. When I find it, it’s thick, hard, and velvety soft. I wrap my fingers around him and stroke, wanting to show him I’m game for anything. Sex. Touching. Whatever he wants, I’m his.

He cups my cheek with his free hand and deepens our kiss. My erratic heavy breaths match his.

“I want you to be my first,” I pant.

He lifts me, and I wrap my legs around him.

It’s finally happening. I love him so much my heart is bursting.

We’re almost to his front door when I hear a familiar voice retch in my ears.

“Bardolf! What the hell are you doing? Get your hands off her.”

Like he’s been doused with a bucket of ice water, Bard stops kissing me and turns his head toward my grandmother. “You know I lo—”

“I know,” she says calmly, her anger restrained. “But you can’t break the vow. It has been written.”

He nods and sets me down.

Grandma turns and leaves with her chin raised, like she does when the conversation is over. No more discussion. You will obey her, or there will be hell to pay.

I look at Bard. “What’s she talking about? What vow?”

He stares down at me, the dim light of his porch masking the finer details of his expression. Still, I know that look. He’s shutting me out.

Suddenly, I feel like I’ve disappeared from his world. The emotion I saw and felt moments ago is gone. I’m not even sure he sees me standing here.

Don’t do this, Bard. “Tell me what she meant, and we’ll fix—”

“I’m sorry, Lake,” he says curtly, “but I am much too old, and you are much too young.”

“I know you care about me. What did she mean about the vow?”