Chapter 6
SIX
GINA
I don’t remember deciding to kiss him again.
I just remember the way the air shifted when the door closed behind him. The way the house felt suddenly smaller. Quieter. Charged.
Dane stands in my living room like he’s not sure whether to take off his boots or pull me into his arms, and for one wild second I almost tell him to go.
Not because I don’t want him.
Because I want him too much.
“You don’t have to stay,” I say, even though I invited him here.
He watches my face carefully. “Do you want me to go?”
No.
The word sits so loud in my chest I’m sure he can hear it.
Instead, I say, “I want to be clear about something.”
“Okay.”
“This can’t be… careless.”
His jaw tightens. “I don’t think either of us is wired that way.”
Good.
That makes this scarier.
I cross the room slowly, giving myself time to change my mind.
I don’t.
When I kiss him this time, it’s deliberate. No adrenaline. No interruption. Just the slow, aching press of months—years—of unfinished history folding in on itself.
He exhales into my mouth like he’s been holding his breath.
His hands come up to my waist, warm and steady, like he’s afraid to spook me if he moves too fast. It makes something inside me melt in a way I absolutely do not have time for.
“I can give you the house tour later,” I murmur against his lips.
“I’d like that.”
“But how about I show you my bedroom first.”
His lips curve against mine. “I’d like that even more.”
Though I don’t want to stop kissing him, we do long enough to tiptoe down the hallway, taking care to lock the bedroom door behind us.
Scottie is a pretty sound sleeper. But the last thing I need is for her to hear or see something she shouldn’t.
Once we’re inside, some of the butterflies come back to my belly.
I let out a shaky breath. “Hi.”
He grins and tucks a lock of hair behind my ears. “Hello, there.”
He leans in to kiss me again, but I freeze. He leans back to study my gaze.
“Hey, are you okay?” He cradles my cheek. “Because if this is going too fast, just say the word and I—”
“No. I want this. I want you.” I grab his hands and link my fingers with his. “It’s just… I haven’t done this in a while.”
He nods, in understanding, waiting and listening.
“And, I don’t bring men back to my place. I… I just—I just…I—”
“Hey.” He presses a kiss to my forehead, the tip of my nose, the side of my lips. “It’s going to be okay. Whatever you want or don’t want. You call the shots.”
Somehow, his words light a fire in my belly, burning off the fear.
“Come here,” I say, releasing his hands to slide mine up his chest and tug him closer.
We kiss again. Tongues dueling, mouths moving against each other. Just kissing like we have all the time in the world.
At some point, we move to my bed. We lie next to each other, kissing like we’re still two kids in high school making out while their parents are at work.
But as the clothes start to come off, as my hands explore his body, I’m keenly aware that we aren’t in high school anymore.
Especially when I’m laid bare and flat on my back, and I watch as he lowers himself between my knees. His mouth inching closer and closer to my core.
When he slides his tongue across my seam, I bite my lip to keep from crying out.
As his mouth works at my pussy, fueling the fire burning in my belly, the whiskers of his beard tease my thighs filling me with the urge to laugh along with scream.
One of his hands slides up to cup my breast, massaging it in his calloused palms. He slides a finger over the nipple, making it pucker. The other hand caresses my hips. They’re covered in stretch marks now, unlike when we were younger. I’m curvier too.
And I feel gorgeous.
Powerful.
Desired.
It all guides me higher and higher, to a peak unlike any I’ve ever reached before.
“You taste so good,” he whispers against me, stroking my clit. “I could do this forever.”
The thought of him doing just that is enough to push me over the edge. The pleasure pulses through me, carrying on and on, until he wrings every last drop out of me.
I’m left panting and quaking as he leans back on his heels. He rips open a foil wrapper. I open my eyes in time to see him pump his thick cock in his fist before gliding the condom down it.
“You’re gorgeous,” he says. “Especially after you come.”
I don’t know what to say to that. Instead, I pull him down on top of me. Wrapping my legs around him, and guiding his shaft inside of me so we can find pleasure again. Together.
As he fills me over and over again, I remember what he said moments ago. About how he could do this forever.
I know what he means.
I want him to fuck me—to fuck him—until neither of us can walk again.
Later—how much later I’m not sure—I’m stretched out against him , my head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat slow from a sprint to something steady and deep.
The room is dim except for the lamp in the corner. I feel undone in the best and worst possible ways.
Dane brushes his thumb along my arm absentmindedly, tracing slow patterns like he isn’t even aware he’s doing it.
That scares me more than anything else tonight.
He’s not rushing.
He’s not scrambling for his jacket.
He’s settling.
“You okay?” he asks quietly.
I hum noncommittally.
He tilts his head so he can see my face. “That didn’t sound like yes.”
“I am,” I say. “I just forgot how intense you are.”
His mouth twitches. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“Maybe it wasn’t meant to be one.”
He laughs softly.
I shift slightly, trying to get comfortable without making the moment heavier than it already is. I don’t think I’m succeeding.
“You’ve done a lot with this place,” he says. “I hope you don’t mind, I took a little look around the property on my way here. ”
I stiffen before I can stop myself.
He notices immediately.
“Sorry,” he says. “Did I say something wrong?”
“No. I just—” I hesitate. “It’s a work in progress.”
“You shouldn’t downplay it.”
I sit up, tucking the blanket around myself. “It’s old. And expensive. And constantly trying to fall apart.”
“You’re keeping it alive.”
Barely.
“I don’t really have a choice,” I say.
Dane studies me for a long moment. Too long.
“Gina,” he says carefully, “have you ever thought about—”
I tense.
Here it comes.
“…bringing in help?”
I blink. “Help?”
“Not charity,” he adds quickly. “Investment. Partners. Grants. Anything.”
My shoulders draw up around my ears. “I manage.”
“I know you do. I’m not saying you can’t. I’m saying you don’t have to do everything alone.”
Something sharp flickers through my chest.
“I’ve been doing it alone for a long time.”
“I can tell.”
“That’s not the same as asking for someone to fix it.”
“I wasn’t offering to fix you.”
I swing my legs off the couch and stand, suddenly restless.
He follows me with his eyes. “Okay. I’m officially confused.”
“I don’t like being looked at like a project.”
“I’m not—”
“And I definitely don’t like people assuming I’m struggling just because—”
“Gina.” He sits up now too, slower than me, like he doesn’t want to spook whatever animal I just turned into. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
I cross my arms.
Of course I do.
“I meant… I see how hard you work. And I know how expensive places like this are to run. That’s not weakness. That’s reality.”
I swallow.
“That doesn’t mean I want you swooping in with a checkbook.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You were about to.”
“No,” he says gently. “I was about to say I’d like to help. If you wanted it.”
I stare at the floor.
That’s worse.
“I don’t need saving.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
The question hangs there.
He exhales slowly. “Maybe not saving. But… purpose. Yeah.”
I glance back at him.
He looks almost embarrassed.
“I’ve been chasing seasons my whole adult life,” he admits. “Wins. Contracts. Owners. Headlines. Coming back here reminded me that I used to love the game before it turned into survival.”
“That doesn’t make me your solution.”
“No,” he says. “But it makes this town… interesting. And you.”
I don’t like how much that lands.
Silence stretches between us, thicker than the snow piling up outside.
“I don’t want to get hurt again,” I say finally.
He nods once. “Fair.”
“And I definitely don’t want Scottie to.”
His eyes soften. “That part I take seriously.”
“I know.”
That might be the most terrifying part of all.
He reaches for my hand slowly, giving me time to pull away.
I don’t.
“I’m not planning on disappearing,” he says.
I don’t tell him that’s what they all say.
Instead, I lean back against him, letting his arm wrap around my shoulders even though part of me is already preparing for the day I’ll have to let go.
Because falling for Dane again doesn’t just feel reckless. It seems inevitable.
And that’s worse.
But he doesn’t give me much time to dwell on such a dark subject. Not when he brings my lips back to his and starts the process of making me burn for him all over again.