Chapter 22 #2
If walking away had been difficult before, now, with her beside him, with her fingers twined so easily with his, he knew it would be impossible.
Without thinking, he tightened his grip.
Landry glanced up at him, her sea-green eyes catching the glow of the streetlights, and she squeezed his fingers in return.
“This is nice,” she murmured, a soft smile playing on her lips.
Peter inclined his head, his own voice rougher than he intended. “Yes, it is.”
She sighed, leaning slightly into him as they walked. “Just being with you like this. Walking in the cool night air, your hand in mine. Though we’re surrounded by people, it feels as if we’re…alone.”
Her voice had turned hushed. Dreamy.
Peter knew that feeling all too well.
He slowed their pace, guiding her toward a more secluded spot, a stretch of the River Walk where trees arched overhead, their branches casting shadows that danced in the moonlight.
When he finally turned toward her, she didn’t hesitate.
Her arms slid around his neck, her body pressing just close enough that he could feel the warmth of her against him. Her scent wrapped around him, something light and floral mixed with the faintest trace of vanilla.
Irresistible.
His hand skimmed her waist, pulling her just a fraction closer.
And then, finally, he kissed her.
Her lips were soft—softer than he’d imagined—warmer, sweeter. She tasted of cucumbers and chocolate, of wine and something distinctly Landry.
She let out a soft, breathy sigh, her fingers sliding into his hair, fisting lightly at the nape of his neck. The feeling sent a slow, delicious heat curling down his spine.
When he pulled back just slightly, her lashes fluttered open, her eyes darkened with something that sent a pulse of want straight through him.
“Do you know what?” she murmured, her nails scraping lightly against his scalp, making it difficult to think.
“What?” His voice was a low rumble, filled with desire that hadn’t quite been sated.
“If you hadn’t kissed me,” she whispered, her lips still so achingly close to his, “I’d have kissed you.”
Peter chuckled softly, though it came out more like a groan.
“Kindred spirits,” he murmured, before his mouth found hers again.
This kiss wasn’t soft or searching.
It was hungry. Knowing. Deep.
Her body molded to his, her breath catching as she let him in, her lips parting beneath his. He tasted her, savored her, let himself drown in the feel of her pressed against him.
By the time he finally—reluctantly—eased back, his pulse was pounding, his breath coming just as unevenly as hers.
Landry gazed up at him, her lips parted just slightly.
“My apartment isn’t far,” she said, her voice soft but laced with something unmistakable.
His stomach tightened.
“Perhaps,” she continued, her fingers still teasing at the collar of his shirt, “you’d like to come over…and we could get better acquainted.”
Peter couldn’t stop the slow, devilish grin that spread across his lips.
God help him, he was so gone for this woman.
And clearly, she was just as gone for him.
They really were kindred spirits.
Landry woke to warmth, to the solid, reassuring weight of Peter’s arm draped over her waist, his fingers splayed possessively across her bare stomach.
A delicious shiver coursed through her as she stared down at those magical fingers—fingers that had explored her skin like a whispered promise, had played her body like a melody, coaxing sounds from her she hadn’t known she could make.
Heat pooled low in her belly at the memory of how he had touched her, how he had looked at her—like she was something rare and exquisite, something to be savored.
A lazy smile curved her lips.
God, last night.
Peter had been…everything. Attentive. Skilled. Devastatingly thorough. And her? She had been more than willing to return the favor, to explore him the way he had explored her, to unravel him, to make him forget anything that wasn’t the feel of her beneath him, around him.
Mission: accomplished.
A low, sleepy sound rumbled from his chest, and then his golden eyes blinked open, locking on to hers. His lips—those wonderfully talented lips—tugged into a slow, knowing smile.
“Umm,” he hummed, his voice rough with sleep, his hand tightening ever so slightly against her stomach. “Good morning.”
A thrill shot through her at the gravel in his tone, the remnants of last night still laced in his voice.
“Almost afternoon,” she teased, shifting slightly, just to feel the heat of him against her.
He chuckled, the vibration low and deep, sending a ripple of sensation through her. “Maybe that’s why I’m so hungry.”
Something dark flickered in his gaze. Not just hunger. Desire. Possession. A promise.
Landry licked her lips, reveling in the way his pupils dilated. “What’s on the menu?”
Peter’s grin was pure sin.
He rolled her onto her back in one fluid motion, his body pressing into hers, his hands mapping the bare skin they had already learned so well.
“Everything,” he murmured, his lips grazing her jaw, then lower.
His breath was warm. His touch was fire.
He lifted his head, his golden gaze locking on to hers, heat simmering beneath the surface.
“And anything.”
Landry’s fingers tangled in his hair, her body already arching into him, wanting more.
“Exactly what I was hoping for this morning.”
Peter’s phone dinged, and his lips curled into an easy smile before he even looked at the screen.
Landry.
It had been only a few hours since he’d last seen her, but that didn’t seem to matter.
Over the past month, they hadn’t gone a single day without contact—texts, quick visits at City Hall Coffee, lingering evenings together.
A rhythm had formed between them that felt natural, seamless. Something he didn’t want to disrupt.
“What’s put that smile on your face?”
Peter glanced up as Joe strolled into his office, looking amused. With an easy familiarity, he dropped into the visitor’s chair across from him. “Did the contract from Artois come through?”
Peter set his phone down, but the warmth in his chest lingered. “Finally came through this morning.”
His excitement over the opportunity was real, but so was the knot that formed in his stomach whenever he thought about what it meant. Six months in France. Six months away from Landry.
Joe’s expression sobered. “Congratulations.” Then, after a pause, he added, “I have to admit I’ll hate to see you go. Sophie and I have enjoyed spending time with you and Landry.”
Peter exhaled a small laugh. “I didn’t even know she enjoyed baseball. But at the game last week, she was on her feet and yelling when ‘that player,’ as she called him, rounded the bases.”
Joe chuckled. “Sophie was right there with her.”
Then, as if sensing the shift in Peter’s mood, Joe adopted a careful tone. “Do you and Landry plan to stay in touch?”
The question was deceptively simple, yet it landed like a punch to Peter’s chest.
Stay in touch?
Peter didn’t just want to stay in touch. He wanted her to come with him.
Ever since that night—the night they first made love—he’d known.
He was falling in love with her.
Peter swallowed, staring down at his phone, Landry’s unread message still glowing on the screen.
Joe must have sensed something in his hesitation. “Forget I asked. Not my business.”
Peter hesitated only a moment before his own truth spilled out, unguarded. “I’d like her to come with me. I’m not sure if she will.”
Joe’s brows lifted slightly, but he didn’t look surprised. Instead, his gaze turned thoughtful. “I don’t know if I told you, but when I first met Sophie, she was in love with another man.”
Peter blinked. “No. Were they dating? Engaged?”
Joe shook his head. “They were apart. And wouldn’t be getting back together.”
Peter frowned, sensing there was more to the story but not pushing.
“She was grieving not being with him,” Joe continued, his voice tinged with something softer now, something personal. “I was interested in her right away, but she wasn’t in the place for a new relationship.”
“What did you do?”
Joe’s lips twitched, but his eyes held sincerity. “I stayed in touch.”
The words struck something deep in Peter’s chest.
When Joe left his office, Peter sat still, staring down at his phone, Landry’s name still glowing on the screen.
What if she didn’t want to come with him?
What if she wasn’t ready?
The thought sent a sharp pang through his ribs.
But he knew one thing for certain.
He didn’t want to lose her.
I stayed in touch.
Joe’s words echoed in his mind, steady, certain.
If Landry wouldn’t go to France with him, he would respect that. But he wouldn’t forget her. He would stay in touch. And when his six months were up, he would return to GraceTown. To her.
Because love like what they shared didn’t fade.
It endured. It grew. And when the time was right, it found a way.