Chapter 24
LONDON
" W e need to talk," I say, approaching Trigg from behind as he tacks up his horse.
"What did I do now?" he asks sarcastically, and it rubs me the wrong way.
I never knew he harbored any resentment for me coming here.
He's always been easygoing, but all relationships are challenged at some point, and now I'm starting to question if his agreeable attitude wasn't a cover for the things he keeps buried deep.
I wouldn't judge him for keeping things to himself.
I'm the last person with room to talk. However, I'm unsure whether I'm part of the problem or an easy target.
It's true that it's the people we love the most that get caught in the crosshairs of the battles we wage war on within ourselves.
I pushed away everything I cared about most, and now I see it was one of my biggest mistakes.
It's why I don't want to see that become our story.
"I know about the lease," I say and watch as his knuckles turn white as he tightens the cinch. That tells me all I need to confirm my suspicions about his sudden interest in Laney. I don't know to what extent he's using her, but I don't like it.
"I have no idea what you're talking about," he grinds out— another lie. I can hear the anger in his tone. I just gave him an intro, and I don't understand why he's not taking it.
"I won't marry Asha." I toss it out there, hoping to cut through the tension and get to the core of what I believe is twisting him up inside.
"Didn't know you were thinking about marriage," he says without missing a beat, but I hear the slight respite in his tone all the same.
"I haven't in a long time," I admit right before a distant scream slices through the thick air. I turn on the spot and spy Fisher sitting on a blanket with Abbey and Madison, and my anxiety spikes as my eyes frantically search for the girls.
"There." Trigg points. "On the other side of the lake by the tree line." My eyes immediately zero in, and I spot Laney and Asha running toward the lake.
Fisher rises from the blanket, his eyes panicked when they lock on mine. "Bees."
"Fuck," I curse as I immediately start hurtling toward the lake.
"It's just bees," Trigg says, hot on my heels.
"Laney is allergic to bees."
"How allergic?" he pants.
"Deadly." My heart thunders in my chest, its beat matching the pace of my feet.
"Is Asha allergic too?" he questions as they both dive beneath the water.
"No idea," I say before bounding off the dock and leaping into the water. I pop up for air and open my eyes, searching for Laney, who keeps bobbing below the surface. "Did she get stung?" I call out to Asha, who's pushing her hair back, eyes wide.
"I don't know," Asha says, wiping the water from her face.
"Are you allergic too?" Trigg’s labored tone breaks over the sound of his breaststroke feet behind me.
"No, I just didn't want to get stung."
I'm feet away from Asha, and Laney hasn't popped back up. My heart is hammering, my breaths are labored, and now I feel like I might drown as memories of the night she didn't come back up assault my senses.
"Laney!" I shout her name, panic gripping my chest. I have no idea how deep this old farm lake is or what may be at the bottom, creating obstacles that could cause her to get stuck.
Hysteria slowly starts to rise as Trigg and Asha shout her name beside me, each of us treading water in circles.
I open my mouth, ready to scream her name again, when the sound of a gasp breaking the water catches our attention as she pops up right beside the dock.
Her chest is heaving when her rich chestnut orbs connect with mine before she ducks beneath the dock.
"Christ." I slap the water, relief flooding my veins before I say, "I'll get her. It looks like a pop-up storm might be rolling in. Get everything ready to head back."
"Sure." A bee buzzes by, and Asha screams. "Oh my god, you have to stop screaming like that," Trigg informs her.
"Well, now that I know it annoys you. I might make it my new habit."
"Oh, I never said it annoys me," I hear him say before I disappear underwater to find Laney.
The next time I pop up for air, I'm under the dock.
"Ouch, shit," she hisses, releasing one of the beams and shaking her hand.
"What is it? Did you get stung?" I quickly grab hold of the beam beside her and take her hand.
"No, it's just a splinter," she manages with a sharp intake of breath as I carefully examine it myself, relief flooding through me as my racing heart slowly returns to normal.
"Wrap your legs around my waist," I command, my voice rougher than intended as treading water becomes secondary to keeping her close.
"I'm not doing that. I'll be fine." She attempts to pull her hand away, but I hold it tighter, my thumb tracing over her knuckles.
"You can listen, or I can make you listen." My eyes lock onto hers, and I see the exact moment her breath hitches. The challenge in my voice makes something flicker across her face—defiance mixed with something darker. "You just nearly gave me a heart attack. I'll be damned if I'm letting you go."
"And how exactly do you plan on doing that underwater in a lake? I'm not scared of you, London Hale?—"
Her words dissolve into a sharp intake of breath the second I release her hand, only to slide mine around her waist with deliberate slowness.
The water makes her skin impossibly soft under my palm as I pull her closer, eliminating every inch of space between us.
My fingers splay across her hip bones before trailing around to her back, mapping the curve of her spine as I sink lower, over the swell of her ass.
I take my time, savoring how her body responds.
The way she trembles despite the warmer water, how her lips part slightly when my hand finally reaches the back of her thigh.
When I lift her leg and guide it around my waist, her other leg follows instinctively, and suddenly she's wrapped around me completely.
The sensation nearly undoes me. Having her like this, pressed against me, her breath coming in shallow pants against my neck, has been fuel for every fantasy since I was old enough to have them.
The water laps around us, but all I can focus on is the heat radiating from where our bodies connect, and the way her fingers have found their way to my shoulders, holding on tight like she’s afraid of letting go.
Her eyes are fixed on my mouth, and I can see the war inside of her.
It's the same one raging in me. Want versus restraint.
The knowledge that we're crossing a line versus skirting the magnetic pull that's always existed between us.
"Still not scared," I tease in hopes of lightening the mood and tempering my desire.
But my voice comes out strained, betraying exactly how much control I'm losing.
The space between us has become charged, every point where our bodies touch underwater sending heat spiraling through me.
Her fingers dig into my shoulders as she adjusts her position, and the movement makes us both freeze, the intimacy of our entanglement suddenly impossible to ignore .
"Nope," she breathes, and fuck if she doesn't up the ante by locking her ankles behind me with deliberate intent.
The electricity crackling between us becomes a living thing, as this is no longer an implied situational intimacy.
She just crashed through the facade and pressed her pussy against my hard cock with one swift move.
The way her chest rises and falls in sync with mine tells me her thoughts are wholly consumed with the same hunger coursing through my veins.
We’re so close I can feel each erratic breath brush against my mouth like a whispered invitation.
I bring my lips closer, every instinct screaming at me to close the distance, to finally claim what's been mine all along.
But another desire, deeper, more primal, wrenches me back at the last second.
My nose skims hers, the contact sending shockwaves through both of us, before I force myself to speak.
"Let me see your hand."
I can't help it. Her safety and well-being have always taken precedence over everything else.
Ever since the first day, I've always had this innate need to take care of her.
It heals something inside of me. Taking care of her feels like taking care of myself, and now that I have her back, I know it's because the heart that beats inside of her is the other half of mine.
She gives me her hand, her heated eyes never leaving mine.
The last thing I want to do is turn away.
I could stare into her honeyed pools for a lifetime, and it still wouldn't be enough.
In her eyes, I am home. I see the man she wants me to be—her man.
I find the spot between her thumb and forefinger where the wood punctured her skin, and I bring it to my lips, drawing her skin into my mouth, and her hips ever so slightly flex against mine with the force of my suction.
My eyes slide up to hers, desperate to see if the ecstasy that once existed when my mouth was on her still exists.