CHAPTER TWELVE #3
I went quiet. Her words struck something I hadn’t let myself feel in years.
Then I heard my dad’s voice in my head.
“Every Hill falls for a ballerina, son. It’s in our blood. Happened to your grandpa, happened to me… and it’ll happen to you.”
Jesus! How the hell did I end up finding the last ballerina on Earth?
“My mom was a ballerina,” I murmured, the memory of her slipping into my mind for the first time in forever. Suddenly, she felt real again.
I glanced at Sarah, and she was already looking at me.
“See? I knew I’d uncover your secret.”
She was good. Too good. And she didn’t even have to try.
“So, what do you miss most about the ranch?” I threw the question out before she could dig deeper. It was easier this way, safer.
“I miss…” She closed her eyes and smiled to herself.
“I miss the creaky sound of the old barn door opening in the morning. Waking up to the smell of strawberry cake and Michael’s laugh from the kitchen.
Hearing Bruce play his guitar, even with two broken strings.
Sitting on the porch swing with Dad, watching butterflies in Mom’s flower garden.
” She blinked slowly and looked at me. “I miss grooming Lily while she chewed hay like she was bored to death.”
She chuckled, and so did I, because that horse absolutely did that to her.
“I even miss the ridiculous names Michael gave every single goat… I miss all of it. Emily and Lucy too. They were older than me, and I couldn’t tell them everything, but they were still great friends, even if their taste in my brother was seriously questionable.”
She scrunched up her nose in mock disgust, and I had to bite back a laugh.
Sarah had always been one of the youngest on the ranch.
The only one close to her age was Brian.
He was more of a shadow than a friend, always hanging around her.
Just thinking about him made my jaw tighten.
The idea of her and him? No. I couldn’t even finish the thought.
I didn’t like him then, and I wasn’t about to waste time thinking about him now.
And anyway, we didn’t even know if he’d made it out. No one knew who survived that last day at the ranch. Michael and I waited three days in the woods at the meeting spot, hoping at least Bruce or Chloe would show, but no one ever did.
Still, the question crept up before I could stop it. Maybe it was the beer.
“Do you miss Brian too?”
The moment I said it, I regretted it.
Her whole vibe shifted, like I’d yanked her out of a warm memory and dropped her into a cold one. I wanted to take it back, to say something to fix it, but the damage was already done.
“I don’t want to talk about Brian,” she said quickly.
Shit, neither did I.
She went quiet again, eyes fixed on the fire. The way she shut down when I brought up Brian threw me off. But if she didn’t want to talk about him, I wasn’t complaining. It felt like a win to me.
“How do you know Michael’s with a girl?” I asked.
She rolled her eyes like I had asked if the sky was blue.
“Oh, please. My brother’s no saint. In the last few months, he slept with half the women on the ranch in that old barn.
That place saw more sins than a church confessional.
Now he’s moved on to one of Nathan’s sisters.
Give him a few more days, and he’ll probably charm the other sister too. ”
“And did you go to the barn with someone too?” I blurted out.
Please, God, let the answer be no.
“Why do you want to know?”
“That thing you said to Michael… I can’t stop thinking about it. You were joking, right? About wanting a boyfriend to…”
She grinned widely, cutting me off with that look that just ate me alive. She was teasing me, and it was working.
My doubts? Doubled.
Screw it. I was just going to ask.
“Are you really a virgin?”
“I don’t need to be.”
Fuck, just kill me now.
My hand moved to the last beer bottle. It felt heavy, even though it was almost empty. I took a final sip without breaking eye contact, hoping it might cool the fire raging under my skin.
It didn’t. If anything, it just made me want her more.
She licked her lips, and my eyes followed her tongue without shame. The air between us was thick, burning, and it wasn’t the damn fire. And when she did it again, slower this time, I couldn’t hold back the growl in my throat.
My grip tightened around the beer bottle as I tried to snap myself out of it, but it was no use.
I couldn’t think straight. I wanted to lay her down underneath me, her legs spread wide for me like she’d been waiting for this moment as long as I had.
Just the thought of being inside her, feeling that tight, wet heat wrapped around me, was enough to make me dizzy.
I would’ve moved slowly at first, dragging out every little gasp she made. Then I’d speed up until she couldn’t take any more, and she was screaming my name like it was the only word she knew, knowing she was mine in every possible way.
I was so far gone in my head, I didn’t even hear her at first.
“Huh?”
“What type of woman do you like?” she asked again.
“Blondie… with braids.”
She cocked her head. “Tall ones?”
“Short ones who fit perfectly on my lap.”
Her cheeks flushed a gorgeous pink, and I barely had time to process it before she stood up.
For a second, I thought she was about to walk away, leaving me hanging in the worst way. But then she turned back around and sat right down on my lap.
“Like this?” she asked.
Shit! This girl was made for me.
“Yeah,” I said, my voice rough. “Just like this.”
My hands found her waist on their own, and my eyes traced the curve of her body where it pressed against mine. It felt like she had been carved to fit me perfectly.
“I love your eyes,” she said. “They’re the color of the ocean.”
“And how do you know the color of the ocean? You’ve never seen the ocean.”
Her chin tilted up with pride. “I can see a picture in a book, you know.”
I chuckled, shaking my head. The way she said it, you’d think she’d just won an argument we weren’t even having.
“I like your eyes too. They always glow, even in the dark,” I murmured, keeping my lips just an inch from hers.
“Like a lighthouse?”
“Yeah.”
“It’s because I’m your island, and you’re my ocean.”
I swallowed hard, thrown by how sweet her words were and how much they meant.
“And… you’re drunk,” I said.
“I am not!” she protested. “You are! Look, there are three of you.”
I tried not to laugh. “Yep, Michael is definitely gonna kill me if he finds you like this.”
“Forget about my brother. He’s not here; it’s just us.”
She pressed herself into me, her body warm and soft, and I was ninety-nine percent sure she was doing it on purpose.
“You smell so good, James. Like pine trees. It reminds me of home.”
I leaned in, breathing her in too.
“How come you always smell as sweet as flowers?”
She smiled.
“Because I carry them with me.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a yellow daisy like it was the most normal thing in the world. “I love picking flowers.”
I smiled back, something that usually felt impossible for me to do. But with her, smiling felt as natural as breathing.
I took the flower from her fingers, my hand brushing hers for a second longer than necessary, and tucked it gently into the braid behind her ear. It was the first time I had her on my lap, and I didn’t want her to ever leave. She was a forbidden fruit, and I was a starving man.
My hand moved to her cheek, like it had a mind of its own. My thumb brushed across her lips, and she leaned into the touch. That one simple reaction made it impossible to ignore the fire blazing through me.
God help me, I was already hard in my jeans, and I didn’t think I had ever been so close to losing control.
You can’t sleep with her. She’s Michael’s sister. Your best friend’s sister.
The voice in my head was practically shouting at me, but I ignored it. My hand lingered on her collarbone, my thumb brushing the pulse at her neck. It was fast, almost as fast as mine.
Slowly, my hand slid down her back, and she let out a soft gasp. It was the most intoxicating sound I had ever heard, the kind of sound that made every rational part of me shut down.
My eyes wandered, settling on the valley between her breasts. She was so alive, so close, and I was so… completely screwed.
What the hell was I doing?
It took me three whole minutes to realize she’d been staring at me this entire time.
My hand was on her waist, but my fingers had slipped lower, down her hips, over the curve of her ass.
I’d been touching her, holding her, as if she were mine.
My hand had even brushed close to the place I shouldn’t dare to touch.
Her eyes flicked down to my hand, and she didn’t pull away. Instead, she just watched me, her gaze curious, like she was waiting to see what I’d do next.
Before I could stop myself, my hand slid along her thigh, memorizing the shape of her in my palm. She closed her eyes, leaning her head against my chest, and her warm breath brushed my neck.
I left my hand resting on her thigh, giving it a light squeeze as I finally asked, “And what type of man do you like?”
Her lips parted slightly, and a soft sigh slipped out. “James Hill…”
The world stopped.
Every nerve in my body was on fire, and my heart didn’t just skip a beat. No, it skipped five.
I bit my lip, trying to hold it together before I dared to look at her again. When I did, she was asleep. Her face was relaxed, with a small, peaceful smile on her lips. She looked so effortlessly adorable. So beautiful. Perfect.
I leaned down, pressed a kiss to her forehead, and pulled her closer. There was no denying it anymore. I was completely in love with her.
And knowing that she wanted me, even in the smallest way, was sweeter than anything I’d ever tasted. Like the best apple pie in the world, even if I knew I would never get to take more than a single bite.