Elizabeth of East Hampton (For the Love of Austen #2)

Chapter 28

CHAPTER 28

It became a daily ritual. Lizzy would wake before dawn, drive her truck up Montauk Highway to the gravel road that led to Will’s house, then follow its narrow path through the switchgrass and oak trees of Amsterdam Beach State Park until she reached his private drive. They would spend the morning surfing, then stumble back to the house for lunch. By the time the sun set, she would be sitting beside him on his porch again, laughing and talking and praying that neither of them would notice the clock.

The first couple of mornings, she parked on the far side of the round driveway so she could offload her board and go directly down the stairs that led to the beach without having to walk too close to the house. She convinced herself that it made her less of a bother, that maybe he might not notice the rusty maroon truck parked next to his newer one.

That was easier than letting herself hope that he was waiting for her, insurance in case he didn’t show up in the water a few minutes after her.

But he always did.

By Wednesday, he insisted she just keep her board there through the week, that it was easier.

By Friday, she could recognize the sound of his gait on the creaking wooden steps without having to turn around.

Saturday, though, the fear that he wouldn’t show up was renewed. Lizzy eyed the dark clouds rolling above as she got out of her truck. The storm wasn’t set to hit Long Island for a few hours, and between now and then the waves were sure to be epic. But they would also be dangerous.

As she grabbed her board from where it rested against the shed and navigated the stairs down the bluff, Lizzy was struck by the memory of that morning after the storm in June. When she had encountered Will on the beach on her way to see Jane, her own stupid anger and annoyance had clouded their interaction. Yet she could still recall his warning about the surf and a storm. It would make sense that his caution could extend to this storm, too, that he might deem it too risky—

“I’m not sure about those clouds,” Will’s deep voice called out.

When she reached the bottom of the stairs, she looked up and there he was, already on the beach. His wetsuit was pulled up his legs, but the rest hung around his waist, exposing his toned stomach, his strong arms.

“It’s fine!” she said, darting her eyes toward the surf, the sky, anything other than his body.

He sighed. “All right. But the minute I hear thunder, we’re out.”

In her periphery she saw him pull his suit up and zip the back. A bit of tension released in her core then. This was fine. She was in control.

Then he turned around and flashed that rare smile, unpracticed and gorgeous, and she realized she had never felt more out of control in her life.

He held out a fist and waited for her to do the same.

“Rock, paper, scissors, shoot!”

An hour later, Lizzy’s muscles ached, her chest burned, and she couldn’t shake the smile stretched across her face.

The waves were large and unruly, coming one after another and growing with each passing minute, ready to drag you under or give you the best ride of your life. It was perfect.

Her board bobbed between her legs as she watched Will line up and start paddling when a swell approached. It was big, already cresting by the time he popped up, the hard line of his body bending toward the water for balance.

They would probably have to call it a day soon, she thought. The clouds on the horizon were growing darker, and the wind was churning up the sea spray—even she had to admit it was getting too dangerous.

But today was Saturday. And tomorrow the weather would likely keep them out of the water all day. And… well, that was the end, wasn’t it? He would be leaving for the city, and she had to get back to her life in East Hampton. This, right now, could be all she got.

Or maybe not , a small voice whispered in her mind.

She shook the thought away, watching as he carved into the wave, the sea foam churning under his feet as he did a barrel turn to come at it again. Hope wasn’t a plan. Yes, she could confidently call him her friend now, but that didn’t negate anything he’d said in the message he left at the bakery. Whatever had happened between them, he was over it. Maybe it hadn’t meant anything to begin with.

The wave mellowed, and Will dove back into the water, resurfacing a moment later and paddling toward her. His board pulled up alongside her own, so close that their legs brushed together. His breath was coming in quick and heavy gasps, and his blue eyes looked electric under the gray skies.

They both stared out at the horizon for a long minute. It wasn’t awkward—if anything, she felt more comfortable in his silence than she did anywhere else—but still, it seemed like there was added gravity now, like they both knew there was something to say and now it was just a waiting game. She knew what she wanted to say. Or rather, what she wanted to ask: Do you still have feelings for me? Because I think I have feelings for you . But what was he waiting to say? What if she poured her heart out and all he had to tell her was what time he was planning to leave the next day?

No. She couldn’t contemplate that. So, instead of honesty, she opted for the next best thing: avoidance.

“Taking a long break over here, Mr. Darcy,” she said, forcing a wry smile.

He stared out at the ocean for another moment, then turned those blue eyes to her. “Just enjoying the view, Ms. Bennet.”

Her pulse leapt and a hot flush coursed its way through every inch of her body almost simultaneously. Get a grip, Lizzy . She was ridiculous.

A peal of thunder in the distance just as she saw the growing peak of a wave approaching. It was huge and barreling toward them—the perfect diversion.

“It’s mine!” she yelled.

Will’s brow furrowed. “Elizab—”

The dull roar of the surf drowned him out as she paddled forward. She turned just as the wave met the tail of her board, pushing her as her arms cut through the water. Her arms burned at the pace until she finally popped up, leaning back to cut into the barrel. But there wasn’t a barrel. As soon as she was up, the wave collapsed, throwing her into the air only to yank her back down again by her tether. The water swallowed her up then, pulling and pushing, and she couldn’t tell which way was up.

Somewhere in her brain she remembered that this sort of thing had happened before; she knew what to do. But right now, her mind was blank. All she knew was that there wasn’t any gravity, only freezing water dragging her down and her lungs burning in her chest.

Then there was something warm around her arm. Warm and firm and pulling her harder than the waves.

She broke through the surface, taking air in giant, desperate gasps as her feet found solid ground. But the warmth didn’t leave her arm. In fact, it was all around her now, cocooning her as she coughed and wheezed.

“Lizzy!”

Oh. It was Will. The realization came to her slowly, as did the fact that his arms were around her, pressing her to his body as the water lapped at her waist. It felt so safe and warm, she closed her eyes and let her body go limp against him. You saved my life , she wanted to say. Oh, and I absolutely have feelings for you . But just as suddenly as he had pulled her to him, he yanked her away, gripping her shoulders to make sure her gaze was locked with his.

“What the hell were you thinking?” he roared, his blue eyes sharp and alive with panic. “You can’t just paddle out into a wave like that! What would have happened if I wasn’t here? What—”

She leaned into him before he could finish, bringing her lips to his to kiss him. She wasn’t even aware that she was doing it. All she knew was that he was worried about her, that she mattered, and suddenly she couldn’t remember why she hadn’t done it days before.

He hesitated, his body tense.

No, no, don’t pull away , she thought, wrapping her arms around his neck to keep him close.

Then he groaned and crushed her against his chest. His mouth was suddenly devouring hers, swallowing her moans while his hands tightened their grip. Somewhere in her mind, she was aware that the ocean was churning around their legs, that it had started raining, too. But none of it mattered. She was too lost in his warmth, his taste…

A crack of thunder split through the sky, making them both jump.

And just like that, the spell was broken. Will was frozen in place, his arms still around her, but looking down at her now like he’d committed a cardinal sin.

“Shit,” he murmured.

Her brows knitted together as he released her and took a step back. Had she missed a step? Done something wrong? She couldn’t tell. She didn’t even know how to ask. And then, suddenly, she didn’t have time to.

A flash of lightning lit up the sky, catching Will’s attention.

“The storm’s here. We should head back.”

She swallowed. “Okay.”

They made their way out of the water, but she was barely aware of the steps, or the rain now falling steadily around them. Her brain was too busy trying to navigate a way out of this new awkwardness to pay attention to their journey up the stairs and to the house.

“I’m going to go upstairs and change,” he murmured as they entered the foyer. Then he turned to her. “Are you okay?”

Was she okay? Absolutely not. But she was so lost as to what that meant that she could only nod dumbly.

He didn’t seem to believe her, lingering another moment before he sighed and disappeared up the stairs.

Wait! she wanted to say. She was only just beginning to realize how much she had missed his arms around her body, his lips against hers. But now he seemed intent on forcing them back to that place they had existed in all week, the precarious limbo between friendship and so much more. And she wanted more. She needed it.

She hadn’t moved when he returned a few minutes later. His wetsuit was gone, replaced by a pair of sweatpants and a black hooded sweatshirt.

His brow was furrowed as he stared at where she stood in the center of his foyer, her purple wetsuit dripping onto the floor. Then a flash of recognition as he seemed to realize his mistake. “Shit, your clothes are in your truck.”

She blinked. Were they? She hadn’t even gotten that far. All she knew was that she had to say something, anything, to fix this. “It’s okay. I don’t need—”

“No. I’ll get them.”

His hand was on the doorknob before she could reply, before she could say that she didn’t care about clothes or wetsuits or…

“Stop!” she yelled as she reached out, grabbing his wrist.

He paused, turning enough to look down at her fingers.

“I’m a tool!” It came out before she could stop herself, and she winced. “I mean, I don’t mind being a tool.”

He didn’t move. “Excuse me?”

She shook her head as she tried to organize her thoughts. “When you came to the bakery that day, after you kissed me, I told you I wouldn’t be a tool you use to work out your issues… but I didn’t mean it. Or maybe I did mean it, but that was only because I thought I hated you. I didn’t even really know you, though. And now that I do…” She paused. “We’re so similar, Will. We’ve both been so careful for so long and we hate feeling out of control. But I think that feeling might be exactly why we can’t stay away from each other. It’s why you said you hated needing me, but it’s also why I didn’t tell you that I needed you, too. I still do.”

He didn’t reply, only stared at her as a muscle in his jaw ticked.

Oh God . Had she completely misread the situation?

“I know I told you I never wanted anything to happen between us. And you told me in that voicemail that you were over it, but…” Her voice faded into silence.

He let out a long breath, his gaze hard as he stared down at her. “Do you really think I ever stopped needing you?”

She blinked. “But you said—”

“I lied.”

His hand came up to push her wet hair from her face as his mouth descended to hers. The kiss was hungry and deep, their tongues clashing as he wrapped his arms around her, pressing her body so hard against his that she almost couldn’t breathe.

The rational part of her brain knew they had to talk. There was a bigger discussion to have here, one that probably included things like expectations or something. But she couldn’t consider anything like that right now. This already felt fragile, like it would fall apart all over again if either one of them stopped.

She tightened her grip around his shoulders and deepened the kiss. It was so overwhelming she barely registered when her body suddenly became weightless as he lifted her up and her legs slotted around his waist. He took a step forward toward the stairs, his mouth still on hers, desperate and wet, but then her hands found his hair, pulling at the strands, and it was like he couldn’t hold himself back anymore. A deep, guttural sound left his throat, then he lowered them both to the floor, landing on his knees with her body still wrapped around him.

God, only a few hours ago she had been terrified of never knowing the feel of him against her skin again. But right now, covered in salt water and sand, with the rain and the thunder outside punctuating every kiss, every touch, she couldn’t comprehend being anywhere else.

He held her weight on his thighs, her legs still around his hips as her fingers dove down his back, yanking at his sweatshirt, clumsily trying to remove the layers that separated them. He smiled against her lips, then used one hand to pull it up over his head and throw it across the room. Then his arms were around her again, his mouth demanding hers, even as his hands found the wetsuit zipper on her back and pulled it down, peeling it from her shoulders and arms. He lowered her down on the soft rug as he roughly pulled the soaking neoprene from her legs, hardly looking at her bare skin before he was kissing her again, his arms caging her in as she arched up, nipping at his mouth, his jaw, his neck. His hands were everywhere, touching, holding, demanding, almost like he was as lost in this as she was.

Then he stilled, his forehead resting against hers. “Shit.”

“What?” she breathed.

“I don’t… I don’t have anything here.”

“What are you talking about? You have everything here. You even have that portable water thing in the shed.”

His brow furrowed. “The shower?”

“Exactly.”

That crooked grin. The one that looked unpracticed, like he was still learning how to turn up the corners of his mouth. “I mean, I don’t have anything for this. It’s been… a while.”

Oh. Oh .

She arched up again, trying to catch his mouth as a stream of consciousness escaped her lips. “It’s okay… we don’t need… that… I’m fine… on the pill… we’re good…”

His expression turned sardonic, though his smile didn’t dim.

“What?” she asked.

“I think I just witnessed an incoherent Elizabeth Bennet.”

“Shut up, Will.”

He chuckled.

She rolled her eyes and tilted her head up, trying to close the gap between them. “Just… come here… down…”

“If I had known sex made you tongue-tied, I would have tried this ages ago.”

“It’s not the sex. It’s you.”

Will stilled.

It hadn’t sounded like such a raw confession in her head, but as soon as the words left her lips, the air around them suddenly felt heavy.

A roll of thunder echoed through the house, fading into a second that was even louder than the first. Then Will leaned back to sit on his heels.

A chill shot down her spine, but it wasn’t because of the wind whistling outside. It was his expression. He was staring at her, all humor gone as he studied every inch of her skin laid out before him, like he was memorizing every freckle. Finally, one hand came up to her stomach, then slowly drifted between her breasts, stopping at her sternum. Her breath caught in her throat. God, his hand was so big, spanning almost the entirety of her rib cage, the calloused fingertips holding her still while he conducted his audit. His lips were half-parted and his eyes so intense that she felt like she could ignite. Then his gaze came back up to meet hers.

There was no condescending look on his face, no arrogance or reproof. It was just Will. His face felt like a mirror of her own, like they were having some sort of unspoken confessional right there on the floor, a recognition of just how vulnerable they both were.

“It’s almost too much, isn’t it?” he murmured. “Needing someone like this. So distracted you can barely function…”

“Yes,” Lizzy whispered back.

Then the corner of his mouth ticked up, that hint of a smile that was so familiar now, and he leaned down. His mouth met hers as his hands found the knots of her bikini top, then the bottoms, tearing them free. Then he pushed down his sweatpants.

She was becoming desperate, too, grabbing his arms, his hair. She needed him closer, she needed to feel everything…

But then he grasped her wrists, lifting them up and anchoring them together above her head with one hand.

“Always distracting me,” he murmured against her lips.

She wanted to laugh, but it was swallowed in a gasp as he leaned forward, his body looming over hers, and she felt him hard between her legs.

“Lizzy…” Her name sounded like a plea, like he was asking permission beneath his growl.

So she answered, her voice breathless and demanding. “Yes.”

He didn’t hesitate, just pushed into her, a thrust that filled her up so fully that she gasped.

“God, you feel so good,” he whispered into the shell of her ear as he pulled out. Then he pushed back in so achingly slowly, she thought she might die. “Tell me you feel it, too. Tell me…” His voice caught and then faded with a deep, molten moan as he slid in and out again.

She wanted to say a million different things, a million new truths, but managed only one: “Will.”

It wasn’t rushed now. Even as her muscles began to tighten, as she felt that delicious tension growing in her core, he didn’t speed up. He just kept a steady pace and watched her face like it was a revelation. With one hand still gripping her wrists, the other came up to brush a few stray hairs from her sweat-lined forehead, and she turned into it, kissing his palm before he thrust into her again.

God, this didn’t feel like a release anymore. It felt like they were building something, pouring foundation into something that could be substantial. Something that should be. Something real.

It was too much—too much emotion, too much feeling, too much everything —and she suddenly had to squeeze her eyes closed. Like if she could focus on his touch, the feel of him inside her, she could ignore everything else she saw in his gaze and pretend her heart wasn’t bursting open, that he wasn’t the one fusing it back together into something even stronger.

But then his rhythm slowed, and she felt his hand on her jaw, cradling it as his calloused thumb ran over her bottom lip.

“Don’t stop,” she whispered. “Don’t you dare stop.”

“Elizabeth.”

It was a demand, and she opened her eyes, half expecting to see a challenge waiting in his gaze. But his expression was raw, stripped bare as he loomed over her, his body silhouetted by the gray light.

“Don’t hide from me,” he growled.

God, he saw right through her. And closing her eyes wasn’t going to protect her from this. He knew that, too. So she finally gave up trying.

“Then don’t stop,” she breathed.

Hunger flared in his eyes and he leaned down to envelop her mouth with his as he thrust into her again.

I think I’m falling for you.

She repeated it in her mind, over and over until his pace became all-consuming and her senses took over. The heat and the sweat from his body. The feel of the carpet rubbing against her wrists where he held them above her head. And the sounds. He was whispering, swearing, and there were words on her tongue, too— more… please… yes —but before she could utter any of them, she felt a blinding, voltaic energy on the periphery, tightening every muscle.

He looked down to where their bodies met, like he could actually see it there, building beneath her skin. Then he brought his hand to the apex of her thighs and pressed down, like he knew exactly what she needed.

He was right. The pressure sent her over the edge and she came, an explosion of electricity surging in her core that ignited every nerve ending. Did she just scream? It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except this, the heat in her veins, his grip on her wrists, and that look—God, that look—as he watched her fall apart.

Then he let go of her wrists to wrap his hands around her hips, holding her in place as she reached up into his hair, roughly grabbing at the strands. His thrusts became wild and jagged then, and it was only a few seconds before he came, too, throwing his head back, whispering curses into the air.

For a long time there was no sound except the thunder, the rain, and their heavy, desperate breaths. His body bowed over hers as he wrapped his arms around her waist, hugging her close. She could feel his breath against her shoulder, the shell of his ear right there next to her lips.

I think I’m falling in love with you , she wanted to whisper.

But she didn’t.