When Sky Breaks: Burn & Break Duet Book 2

43. Sky

Soaked and sated,I grab the towel August extends to me and openly gawk at his body as he dries himself off.

His biceps grow taut as he rubs the towel across his stomach and over his broad shoulders. His abs flex and I instinctively press my legs together and clutch the towel at my chest for dear life.

He brushes the fabric over his lower stomach, and down his muscular thighs, all the while staring at me through the damp hair flopped over his brow, his gray eyes holding a spark of mirth.

He knows what he’s doing to me.

That smirk on his mouth broadens as he sees my fingers twitch with the desire to run along the tattoos over his chest and down over his still hard?—

“I like the way you look at me.”

I bite back a smile and pull my hair up into some sort of messy, wet bun while searching for something to put on before the need to have him take me again arises. “And how do I look at you?”

August crowds my space, his warm chest millimeters from mine. His thumb runs along my lower lip. “Like you want to do that again. All night.”

Shivers roll over my shoulders and he dips to pick up a shirt. He lowers it over my head, and I breathe in the scent. It’s one of his shirts. He’s always liked me in his clothes. His way of staking a claim.

“You always knew how to read me,” I say airily, watching as he pulls up another pair of low-slung sweatpants that were hanging on the back of the door. Well, when he wears something like that, it’s kind of hard not to imagine doing that again and again.

My stomach chooses this inopportune time to growl, echoing off the tile of the bathroom. Now that my body just went through the best kind of exercise, I’m starving.

“Let me feed you. Can’t have you passing out on me. Foster would have my head on a silver platter with an apple sticking out of my mouth.”

I laugh, finish dressing, and follow him to the kitchen, hopping up onto a barstool and watching him open the fridge.

His back to me exposes what I saw in the tub, but was too caught up in lust and love to say anything.

“You got more tattoos.”

He looks over his shoulder and grins. Turning, he brings with him various meats, cheeses, and condiments, splaying them out onto the island before grabbing bread and chips from a cabinet near the sink.

I watch as he makes us sandwiches, my eyes traveling over the new ink nestled among the flames on his shoulder as well as what’s spanning his shoulder blades. He’s covering over the flames with images reminiscent of his travels and photos from his assignments.

Choosing beauty over a life lived in the ashes of his past.

“Hard to walk anywhere in California and not come across a tattoo parlor. I thought it was time to maybe mark myself with things that mattered.” He slices the sandwiches on the plates before grabbing two water bottles from the fridge allowing me another glimpse of the others.

It’s no surprise he got an old-school camera inked, but it’s what’s behind it that makes me hitch a breath.

He notices and a soft smile crests his lips. “Getting that one made me feel like you were always there with me. A brilliant sky lit up with the most gorgeous sunrise the artist could render. Felt fitting. A way to cast out the darkness.”

Tears well. “It’s beautiful.”

“Not as beautiful as you right here in front of me.”

Unable to contain it, I leap off the stool and fly around the island to jump into his arms. They wrap around me, the warm skin of his chest on my cheek.

“You’re so—ugh, so goddamn cute.” I press a kiss to his bare chest and step back, poking him in said muscular pec. “Anything else up your sleeves, Mr. Slick? Better not be a secret girlfriend.”

He grins as he points to the plates on the island. “Eat. To answer your question, no, I have nothing else up my sleeve.” He pauses the sandwich near his lips. “I don’t think?”

I laugh and dive into my food, sighing once it hits my stomach. “This is good.”

“Just a sandwich. Figured I could handle that.” He winks, and it sends butterflies through my chest.

I want to eat sandwiches with August Moore for the rest of my life. In fact, I want to do everything with him until the end of time. Make sandwiches, read books, go on picnics. Everything.

“I love you,” I blurt out, the words freely leaving my body. He just looks so cute being domestic—I can’thelp but say it.

Blinking, he sets his sandwich down. “I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of hearing you say that.”

“Not even when we’re old and wrinkly?” I grin.

“If I haven’t turned off my hearing aids at that point, then no.” He chuckles and flicks my hand as I steal a chip off his plate.

This. This is the feeling I always want to have with him. No pretenses, no shame, no regrets, just happy everyday moments.

I think this time I’ll get my wish.

* * *

Once the sun sets, I finally peel myself away from August and head home.

“You sound like you’ve had a cold,” Phoebe says as soon as she answers and hears me speak.

I put her on speakerphone while I reverse out of August’s driveway. He stands on the porch, barefoot, with Winter sitting pretty next to him.

A stupid grin splits my face. “Yeah, I was down for a few days last week. Still have some drainage. Went and stayed at August’s house so I wouldn’t infect anyone.”

“Wait. You stayed at his house?”

“Yep. It was nice to sleep it off and not feel bad about getting Foster sick.” I can only imagine the expression on her face, so I attempt to keep the conversation light.

“So, what, did you like call him up and he came and rescued you?” She sounds incredulous, which is easy for Phoebe to do.

“That was Foster.” I laugh, turning onto a stretch of road, narrowly missing a pothole full of rainwater. “He’s playing matchmaker.”

“Hmm.”

“What’s that for?” I scrunch my brows once I stop at a light. The car next to me has its radio volume up so loud the bass rattles my brain.

“Nothing. Just making sure everything is all good.”

“Everything is perfect. Very good, in fact.” I bite my lip to contain how good it really is.

“You slept with him.”

“What makes you say that?” I play the innocent card.

“Your voice. It got all breathy and stuff. You caved.”

Damn her. She picks up on everything.

“There was no caving. August and I have had some long talks, and he’s here to stay. He slept for two nights on my couch to take care of Foster. His mom is living here again. His…uh dad died recently. And he’s been donating a substantial amount of his photography royalties for the past three years to The Magnolia Place. Oh, and he’s actually friends with Foster, doing odd jobs around the house for him.” I spill all that in a rush in case she only hears what she wants to hear.

Her pause is long. “Wow. That’s…that’s a lot. Um, where do I even start?”

I huff out a laugh. “How about with the facts? You’re good with those. He’s been silently groveling for the last few years, and he didn’t even know I’d be back to see it.”

“Yeah, I’d say so. I gotta hand it to Gus Gus,” she sighs. “He’s redeemed himself.”

“He really has. I promise I’m not just diving in or acting only out of emotion. He keeps surprising me, and I really love him, Phoebs.”

“I can hear it in your voice, stuffy nose and all. It’s okay. I’m just here to make sure he takes care of that soft heart of yours and that he and you recognize your worth.”

I smile, flicking on my turn signal. “Thank you. I needed to hear that.”

There’s so much more I could tell Phoebe, but some moments I want to keep all to myself.

“Tell him I’m sorry to hear about his dad. I didn’t think he was close to either of his parents.”

“He’s not, but he’s trying to work on things with his mom.”

A new building that I didn’t notice before comes into view, and I slow down.

There’s a new Starbucks? I’m stopping. A peppermint mocha is calling my name.

“Have you talked with her yet?”

“Not about that, no, but I have spoken to her.” Pausing, I fidget in the long drive-thru line, anxiety rippling across my chest.

“You think maybe you should? She might have information on your mom.”

“What if I don’t really care about what happened to Dannie? I didn’t come back home to dig up old ghosts.”

She’s going to see through my bald-faced lie. The moment I knew August’s mom was back in town, gears turned and my stomach churned. I knew there’d be the what-if thoughts and I hate it. I wish I could forget her.

“That’s a lie and you know it. You may have fixed things with August, but there’s still a part of you that will always wonder about her. Maybe this is a chance for you to find out. Get some closure.”

“I don’t know. Like how do I—do I just ask him to let me talk with her?” I move up a few cars in line.

“Sky, that man, despite his asshole move in high school, always wanted to make you happy. I doubt that stops—like ever—for him. If he knows you’re wanting to learn more about your mom and he has a way to do it? He won’t bat an eye.”

“Ugh. You’re right. Hang on a sec.”

I give the girl my order and pull up to pay.

“I’m jealous. I could use a coffee right now.”

I swipe my card on the keypad and put it back in my wallet. “Get Graham Cracker to make a run for you. If you want to talk about a man who’s devoted…”

She sighs, and it’s happy. She deserves it; I deserve it. Everyone deserves a chance at happiness.

Will mine come once everything is out in the open? Why my mom left? How she could justify leaving her kids? Where did she go, and why hasn’t she come back? Can I move forward with August without that part of my past closed up tight? If I find her…will I be able to face her? Would she even want to see me after fourteen years?

Determined to get answers, I take a deep breath and set the warm cardboard cup of joy in my drink holder to cool down.

“I’ll talk to August about my mom. I promise.”

“Good. And I know he’ll be there to support you, I’m sure, but so will I. Whatever you need, babe, I got you.”

* * *

After tucking Foster in bed and wishing Trek goodnight once dinner was over, I planned on reading and then passing out.

Sex with August was so good we couldn’t resist doing it a few more times before I left, and my muscles are sore in the best way. You’d think after five years of celibacy, I’d be rusty, but turns out, I’m as horny as I thought. I just needed August’s hands and mouth and his very nice cock to remind me.

But now I sit on the edge of my bed, the lusty fog from earlier fading as I lock on the files I have yet to look at. The chance for answers is right at my fingertips, but I can’t make myself move.

I’m the happiest I’ve ever been—there’s a literal glow to my aura, according to Trek, and I’m afraid what’s in that folder will ruin it all.

I cross the room and pick them up, the manilla files crisp as if they’ve never been opened.

Perhaps it should stay that way.

Come on, Sky. It’s now or never.

I flick one open and immediately close it. Not tonight. Not when I feel so good about my future with August. I want to sit with that a little longer.

Soon. I’ll open them soon.