Текст книги "Crush "

Автор книги: Kim Karr

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Текущая страница: 5 (всего у книги 27 страниц)

“Elle, don’t leave things like this between us,” he pleaded.

I had to.

Nothing had changed.

A quick fuck wouldn’t make me feel any better tomorrow or change the fact that we had no future.

Realizing this, I thought I might just hate him.

But as soon as I left the room, left him, the hole in my heart told me I didn’t hate him.

Instead, it told me I would love him forever.

DAY 14

LOGAN

The pavement was wet as my feet pounded against it. I sprinted faster, arms working, fists flying up beside my body. Faster and faster I went, until my legs cramped and my stomach knotted, but that wasn’t enough to make me stop. I didn’t even falter. I just kept running.

The rain came down harder, but not hard enough to drown out the sound of her screams. They were everywhere.

I was running in the very early hours of the morning, trying to clear my head—to erase the nightmare I couldn’t seem to shake. It was so real. I had gone to her. Brought her back into my life. And then soon after she was in a dark place, alone and afraid. I saw the image of her frightened face, heard the sound of her shrilling screams, and felt her warm blood on my skin.

Running wasn’t erasing it—I could still see it.

Nothing was working.

I couldn’t shake it.

The haunting image surrounded me.

It was to my left.

To my right.

In front of me.

I just ran faster.

Miles and miles seemed to pass in mere minutes, but then my legs began to burn. I didn’t care. I kept going. The knot in my gut felt more like bricks. I didn’t care. I ran faster. But no matter how fast or how far I ran, it wasn’t going to change anything. Whether I was with her or without her, she could still be in danger, and I didn’t have a big enough army to save what my gramps would call my Helen of Troy.

Gasping for breath, I finally stopped.

Fuck, what had I done?

Was she with him?

No, I knew what she’d said last night was her way of coping with what I’d done to us. But knowing that didn’t stop the ache in my chest.

With my hands gripped around the back of my neck, I looked around, hoping to latch onto anything that would stop the constant noise in my head.

I couldn’t stand being without her.

The very early dawn created a purple haze that enveloped the surrounding area like a shroud. The sky was still dark. The air was thick and moist. And I could feel sweat running down the side of my face.

Flashing lights down at the waterfront caught my attention, and something about the situation drew me closer to the chaos.

An unwanted feeling I couldn’t shed.

Long strides brought me toward it. The closer I got, the louder the sounds became. The whoop of a chopper along the riverbank, the chatter of reporters, a Channel 7 news truck. It was utter madness for the early morning dawn.

“Stay behind the tape,” the cop said, pointing his flashlight at me.

Hey, I knew that cop.

“What’s going on?” I asked him, hoping he didn’t remember me from the night he introduced me to Blanchet, the she-devil DEA agent who coerced me into helping her bring down Patrick Flannigan.

Turned out that wasn’t all she wanted. She also wanted a lead on the source of the drugs that were hitting the streets of Boston in monstrous proportions. She’d tracked Flannigan and knew he wasn’t the kingpin in Boston’s cocaine operation, but he was still vital enough to hunt down. He had his hands in many illegal things, but drugs weren’t his most lucrative venture. Numbers and prostitution were more his game. What he didn’t know was that his son had upped their involvement in the drug market, and that was why they were both behind bars right now.

Blanchet had spoken to my gramps and gotten all she needed from him. Hence, my father was still a free man. She had yet to pull him in. And my hope was she wouldn’t.

“I said, stay back.” The bite in his tone wasn’t strong enough to indicate he recognized me.

Someone behind me spoke up. “A body was found. They think it’s been in the river for a while.”

Something told me I had to edge closer. Something else told me to keep running.

I watched the cop as his rubber boots squished along the mucky riverbank and then when he was out of sight, I maneuvered myself around the mob of people to where I could better see what was going on.

My sides were cramping; my skin felt tight, my throat dry. I needed water. My vision was slightly hazy and I had to squint to see that far, and finally I did.

Oh fuck!

There it was.

A body.

A woman’s body.

My lungs were no longer burning, but still I felt myself gasping for air.

The body wasn’t just a body.

Inconspicuous in the brush, I took another step forward and heard my sneakers squish in the mud.

Fuck!

I glanced around. No one was paying any attention to me.

They were focused on the body. And now so was I. Her arms seemed bare, although her torso appeared clothed in black. Her legs were covered in what had to be streaks of mud. Her feet and legs were hidden in her leather boots. And then there was the halo of fiery red hair floating grotesquely around her limp body.

That knot that had been in my gut twisted even more.

Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!

Maybe, just maybe it wasn’t her.

The body was facedown and splayed among the underbrush of the slimy riverbank, so really, it could be anyone.

Suddenly, a spotlight shined down, and that’s when I saw the glint. An icy chill swept through my blood, because right then I knew for certain who it was.

In her hand, tangled between her fingers, was a red ribbon with a large silver rattle beside her. The object was Clementine’s Rosie.

And the dead woman was Lizzy O’Shea, Elle’s missing sister.

My stomach lurched. The only time I had seen that rattle before was in the hands of Michael O’Shea, back at the garage where Elle’s car had been towed.

The man who Elle was with last night. The very same man she was entangled with in a way that there was nothing I could do to untangle her.

What if all of this shit wasn’t just about Tommy?

Maybe there was a bigger picture.

That had to be it.

Like a lightning strike, I knew I had to be with her.

That being apart didn’t mean shit anymore.

There was so much more to all of this.

The stakes just got higher.

Tommy Flannigan was no longer the only man I had to protect Elle from.

My mind was reeling.

I had to come up with an even bigger and better plan.

I had to build my own army.

I had to be with her.

Fear took a backseat.

Strength puffed up my chest.

Determination racked my brain.

I knew what I had to do to keep her safe.

First, go and get her, begging on my knees if I had to, and then . . .

Crush Tommy and figure out what O’Shea was really up to.

No matter what.

ELLE

Nine very unsettling minutes with him and my world was more upside down than ever.

Would it ever be right again?

This morning I just didn’t think it would.

The spring drizzle trickled down the outside of my bedroom window and I found myself sitting in a chair and staring out at it. It was already dawn and I hadn’t slept much.

I couldn’t stop thinking about him.

How could I have been so cruel?

I hated what I’d said.

I’d made a huge mistake.

I should have put the same trust in him I wanted in return. I had been wrong in pushing him away—in thinking that my emotional health would be too uneven with us in a state of limbo, and that I wouldn’t be able to navigate my life reasonably. The truth was, without him I was in a state of complete instability anyway. I was uneven. I was unhappy. And I didn’t think it would ever go away.

Oh God. I needed to apologize. I wanted to talk to him so much I couldn’t stand it. But how could I fix anything between us now? I’d said the most horrible things to him last night.

Tears clouded my sight and I pressed the heels of my palms to my eyes. When the sobbing subsided, I wrapped my arms around my body in a sad attempt to comfort myself.

Drop after drop I watched the water until I couldn’t anymore. Finally, I closed the blinds and then padded over to my bed and tried to make myself go back to sleep.

I was just tired.

So tired.

My phone was beside me and I thought about calling him. But would he answer? And if he didn’t, would I feel worse? If he did, would talking change anything? No. No it wouldn’t. How could it be that my life felt so empty without him in it? I tried reminding myself it was no fuller before I met Logan but that didn’t help. The difference was—there was a hole in my heart that wasn’t there before. And it hurt. It hurt so damn much.

Thank God for Clementine.

She was the only light in my life.

I needed sleep.

After that, I could determine better what I should do.

Perhaps my sadness was simply a function of lack of sleep.

Just as I started to drift off, my cell phone began to ring. I anxiously grabbed for it. Blocked caller flashed on my screen. I refused to answer it, but that didn’t stop my heart from pounding faster and faster.

It had to be the same person who had called me days ago.

Fear.

Fear like I’ve never known seized me.

For some unknown reason, this caller scared me more than anything.

A minute later a text message appeared. It read, You made the right choice. Keep on the correct path and little lives will remain safe.

My hand flew to my mouth.

Oh God.

He was threating Clementine!

What did he want?

Ding dong. Ding dong. Ding dong.

My body began to shake.

Ding dong. Ding dong. Ding dong.

I was so afraid.

Who was here?

Was it the caller?

Was it someone on Tommy’s behalf?

Was it the Irish Mob?

Knock, knock.

My pulse was racing.

Knock, knock.

Heart hammering against my ribs, I jumped out of bed—it felt like I was jumping out of my skin.

I didn’t know what to do.

Where was the security team Logan had arranged to watch my townhome?

An adrenaline rush kicked me into gear.

They had to be here.

Terrified, I grabbed my gun from the bedside table and hurried to the window to see if their car was still parked out front. My hand was trembling so much as I peeked out the closed blinds to the street below that I could barely pull them open.

The incessant ringing of my doorbell and the pounding on my front door wasn’t stopping.

Then, as I looked down, my terror ceased immediately.

Relief set in.

The Rover was parked right in front of my house, haphazardly squeezed in between two cars and partly up on the sidewalk.

It was Logan at my door.

I didn’t know what he was doing here but I didn’t care.

I needed him.

Right now, I didn’t care about anything other than him.

Him being here was all that mattered.

Needing to see him, feel him, hold him, I put my gun away and quickly grabbed a blanket off my bed. Wrapping it around me, I rushed for the door. “I’m coming!” I yelled from the top of the stairs. As I ran down the steps, the doorbell was still ringing and the pounding was still occurring. Faster and faster I went. I wanted to get to him just as much as he wanted to get to me.

In his arms, I knew I’d feel safe.

I reached the foyer quickly and without looking, I turned the alarm off and swung open the door. The streetlights were still on and shone behind him in a way that highlighted everything he was.

Strong.

Dauntless.

Confident.

Sexy.

My protector.

A feeling of intoxication overcame me as I drank him in. There he stood in his track pants, long-sleeved T-shirt, and sneakers, soaked to the bone. Noticing this, I was suddenly alarmed. “Logan, what’s the matter?” I asked.

“I need to talk to you.” He stepped in without being invited and I didn’t care.

Still shaking from the text, I had a hard time focusing.

He closed and locked the door, reengaged the security system, and then turned to me.

I watched as the water dripped off him in excess. As it puddled on the floor, as it flowed beneath my bare feet. With a tug of my arm he moved me away from the cold water.

I couldn’t help but stare at him. Had he known how much I needed him right now? Or did he need me? “What is it? What happened? You look shaken,” I asked all at once.

His eyes were so intense as they stared back at me. “Together, Elle, I pick together.”

That didn’t answer my question, but it told me what he was doing here.

My emotions wouldn’t register. They were all over the place. I’d asked him to pick, and when he didn’t pick me, it left me more than a little shattered.

But now, now he was picking me.

He’d picked me.

That’s why he was here.

In my time of need.

My emotions were a conflicting mess.

Shock.

Elation.

Love.

Confusion.

My heart forgot to beat. My lungs forgot to breathe. My eyes forgot to blink. So many feelings were flowing through my veins that I wasn’t certain which one I should be feeling right now, or if any of this was even real.

With a slight hesitation in his movement, he took a tentative step toward me. “I want to move forward with you. I pick you, Elle. I pick you over being cautious, being scared, or trying to figure things out alone. I pick you.”

Unguarded, I was hopeless to answer him. I didn’t know what to say, but then I looked up and saw so much pain and regret in his face. I had a choice. I could turn him away or I could take a leap of faith. I didn’t know what to do. What I did know was that I loved him, and of all the crappy things I might have known about love, I knew for certain that it was never perfect. People made mistakes and people hurt each other. Sometimes on purpose, sometimes not. Life didn’t always have a happily-ever-after, but maybe together we could try to make one.

“Am I too late?” Logan asked.

It was then that I realized I hadn’t said anything.

Tears threatened to spill from my eyes as I took one step closer to him. And then another. And one more, and finally my bare toes were touching his wet sneakers. I shook my head and nodded at the same time. “I don’t understand. What’s changed?”

Linking his fingers between mine, he answered, “I want you. Me. Us. I know we have to be cautious but I want to face the future with you, not without you. Will you let me pick you?”

I was finding it hard to breathe. I didn’t know what to do. But the way he was standing there looking so uncertain, I knew there was no way I could turn him away. He needed me. And I needed him like I needed air to breathe. I had to have faith he wouldn’t leave me again, and I did. My heart felt so full. I believed every word he’d just told me. Without any doubts, I smiled and said, “Yes,” and then to make certain he understood me, I repeated myself. “Yes, yes, yes.”

His hands grabbed my face and he brought his mouth to mine. Slow, burning kisses with feather brushes of his lips on mine made my stomach flip, but then when he pressed harder and slipped his tongue inside my mouth, I felt those beloved butterflies take flight.

I thought I might be dreaming, but the cold wetness of his hard body told me I wasn’t. “Take this off,” I demanded, tugging at his T-shirt.

His answering grin was utterly charming and adorable. It was the look that said sex was on his mind. It was the look I had missed so very much.

The blanket slid off my shoulders and impatiently I helped him strip his wet shirt over his head.

When it fell to the floor, he gripped my hips and tugged me flush to his body. “Do you have any idea how much I’ve missed you?”

Every part of me had an idea, because it must have been as much as I’d missed him. “Logan,” I breathed.

His hands roamed my body, over my hips, stopping to finger the elastic of my sleep shorts, up the torso of my camisole, and stopping again to cup my breasts. “Yes,” he responded with a nip at the sweet spot on my neck he knew drove me wild.

“You have to promise me that was the last time you’ll leave me. No matter what. I can’t go through this again.”

He toed his sneakers off. “I can’t either, Elle. And I never want to.”

My fingers went to his waistband and I pushed his wet track pants down. “Promise me, Logan. Promise me.”

Standing in his boxer briefs with his wet clothes surrounding us, he wrapped his arms around me and held me tightly. “I promise you, Elle, I promise.”

The honesty in his voice was all I needed to hear. Words were for later. Right now all I needed was to feel him. All of him. And I was going to start with his mouth. I kissed him until my face was numb. Until my lips tingled and my skin burned from the stubble of his jaw. And even then, that wasn’t enough. I wanted to reacquaint myself with every inch of him from his head to his toes. “Let’s go upstairs,” I said, wanton and breathless.

His roaming hands stopped their movement, but only to pull me closer and hold me tighter.

With my arms around his neck, I rested my head on his shoulder and held onto him just as tightly.

Our hold was fierce.

Warming.

Loving.

Forgiving.

Comforting.

And I hoped everlasting.

I tried to undo myself from his hold, so we could go upstairs. “Come on,” I managed.

He didn’t move. Just held me tighter.

Beneath my fingertips, I could feel his body tense. “Logan, what is it?” I asked.

Finally, after a few moments, he pulled back, and I nervously watched as he picked up the blanket and wrapped it around the both of us. “Let’s go sit on the couch. I have something to tell you.”

DAY 15

LOGAN

“What are you doing here?”

My head jerked up from the stack of papers on my desk. “Um . . . I work here.”

My old man perched himself on the corner of my desk. “Don’t be a smart-ass. I just thought you were taking a few days off to be with Elle.”

I shook the glower off my face. “She had to go with O’Shea to Lizzy’s viewing.”

“Arrangements were made quickly.”

I gave him a solemn nod. Elle had told me O’Shea seemed in a hurry to put all of this behind him. Odd way to put it.

My old man folded his hands together. “And let me guess, by the look on your face I’d say you weren’t invited.”

I leaned back in my chair and pointed my finger at him. “You’re good.”

He shook his head. “Well, I can also guess you’re not happy about it, either.”

“I wouldn’t say that. I didn’t know her and it’s not my place to be there.”

“But?”

I shrugged. “I would have liked to be there to support Elle.”

“And?”

He was smart. “I don’t know. I can’t explain it. Don’t get me wrong. I understand this is a tough time for them both. It’s just weird that they’ll be spending so much time together.”

Understanding sparked in his eyes. “You’re jealous.”

Maybe I was wrong about the understanding. “No, I just don’t like Elle anywhere near him.”

He raised a brow. “It’s okay if you are, son. It makes sense. She’s a beautiful woman and he’s a man. Just remember he’s also a man who just lost his wife. Regardless of the situation surrounding her death, I’m certain he must be grieving.”

I’d decided not to say anything to my old man about O’Shea and my suspicion that maybe he had something to do with Lizzy’s murder just yet, or about the strange messages Elle had received. Only two to date, but that was the real reason I didn’t go today. She just felt they were warnings and had something to do with her relationship with O’Shea. I agreed. Since we had no proof of anything, I didn’t want to add more to the pile of shit my old man was already dealing with, so I answered smoothly but honestly. “Yeah, yeah, I know. I still don’t trust him. The smoke screen he conjured up about his wife’s disappearance has too many holes in it.”

“Logan, listen to me: I know you’re concerned about Elle’s safety and so am I, but I think there are some things better left alone. And at this point O’Shea and Lizzy’s involvement with Tommy and Patrick is one of them. The old saying Don’t poke a sleeping bear might be one that applies in this case.”

I completely disagreed but nodded in agreement anyway. “Yeah, you’re probably right. Well, I had some stuff to get done today, so it all worked out fine.” I looked at my watch. “Where have you been, anyway?”

“I went to an AA meeting down the street and then was going to head home early, but I saw your car when I was walking back so I came in to check on you. What do you say to letting your old man buy you dinner?”

I stood and rounded my desk. “Sorry, Pop, I’ll have to take a rain check. Elle said everything should be wrapped up by five, and I think I’ll try to catch up with her and take her out to dinner. Do you need a ride¸ though?”

He shook his head. “No, I’m good.”

“You sure?”

He nodded.

“Then can I ask you a quick question?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Have you ever heard of anyone on the street referred to as the Priest?”

His brow creased. “No, I haven’t. Why do you ask?”

I shook my question off casually. “No reason really, I just heard someone refer to the Priest and had no idea what they were talking about.”

“Church maybe,” my father laughed, rising from the desk and patting my shoulder. “A place you might want to visit once in a while.”

It was then that the thought struck. The call and message Elle received spoke of God. Was the Priest the one contacting Elle?

Holy shit.

No, it couldn’t be, or could the connection be that easy?

“Logan?”

I snapped out of it and gave my old man a shake of my head. “What can I say? I follow the lead of my old man.”

“I probably should have done a better job on that one.”

I laughed. “You know what they say about hindsight.”

“You got me there.” He looked at his watch. “I think I’ll catch dinner with Killian. Give Elle my condolences.”

“I will,” I said, and couldn’t help but notice that his shoulders were slumped. “Hey, is everything cool with you?”

Like a bat out of hell, he averted his gaze. “Yeah, I’m good.”

“No you’re not. Talk to me.”

With a sigh, he turned to look out the window. “It’s nothing I want you involved with and I mean it, Logan, but Patrick has me pulling financials for all his businesses. He’s looking for something and I’m fairly certain it’s what we already found.”

“How? He’s still in jail. I thought his bail was denied?”

“It was. His trial attorney contacted me.”

I should have known. “What’s he looking for?”

“My best guess—to verify his son’s involvement.”

“The Tommy connection to the drugs. The reason they’re in jail,” I commented.

My father nodded. “And the money clearly leads back to Tommy and I knew about it. If I act like I didn’t know Tommy was stealing money, I’m fucked, and if I tell him I knew, I’m even more fucked.”

“Then don’t tell him anything. It’s not your fucking job to look out for his tweaker son.”

He turned back around. “No, but it is my job to make sure the money-laundering process runs efficiently.”

“Patrick is behind bars, and hopefully will stay that way. Can’t you stall? Ride it out and stay clear of him.”

The smile on his face was anything but genuine. “He owns me, Logan, you know that. I do what he says, when he says, regardless of where he is.”

“Maybe it’s time you talk to Gramps. See if he knows anyone that can help get you out of this. With Patrick behind bars, there has to be a way. Someone out there willing to cut a deal.”

Wide steps brought him close to me. “Yeah, I’ll do that.”

I wasn’t sure he would. “Call me if you need anything.”

He patted me on the shoulder before he left. “I will.”

Following the impromptu discussion with my father, I felt both better and worse. Better about O’Shea and Elle having to spend the day together, and worse because my old man’s situation should have been getting better with Patrick behind bars, not worse.

When the brief for a client that had to be filed in federal court on Monday was complete, I glanced at my watch. I had a shit-ton of other work to do but decided to spend some time researching scripture to see if what the caller had recited and texted to Elle had any context. After finding nothing that made sense, I concurred with Elle: it was this man’s, whom I’d concurred could possibly be the Priest, own words.

Before closing out, a local advertisement online caught my eye. Taking the bull by the horns, I decided to quit waiting around for Elle to be finished and text her.

Me: Everything go okay today?

I knew Elle felt torn. She hadn’t seen her sister in fifteen years, and all she knew about her was that she had abandoned her family and somehow put them in danger. On the other hand, she was her sister. I didn’t push her to talk about it. I knew if she wanted to she would.

When she didn’t answer, I quickly sent another text.

Me: Can you meet me somewhere?

Then, like a chick, I sat back in my chair and waited. Unable to concentrate on anything, I paced my office, cleared some papers off my desk, then stared at my phone screen. It was just as I was about to head out and go meet up with my old man at the nursing home when my phone buzzed.

Elle: Yes. We just finished eating. Where?

Dinner was out of the question since she’d already eaten, but that was okay because I had something better in mind. I wanted to take her on a real date, but it would be dark if I went to go pick her up first, so I settled on a pseudo date.

Me: At the George Washington Statue in the Public Garden.

Her response came in the way of a smiley face: “:)”

I’d never texted nor written a heart, smiley face, or anything like that in my life. My fingers hovered over the keypad until finally I just did it: “:)”

Lame.

I felt incredibly lame.

I almost looked around and wondered if this was me sitting here. Shaking off what James would surely call the secret Romeo within me, I grabbed my keys and got ready to go.

The Internet had notified me that today was opening day at the Swan Boats, and I’d always seen people riding in them during the spring and summer months but never thought about going on one myself. It was like the carriage rides in Central Park; I’d always seen people taking them but had never actually ridden in one of the carriages myself.

With Elle, I wanted to do things I’d never wanted to do before.

Stupid, dumb things. Things couples did.

Chances were small that anyone would see us together there but just in case, I shoved my hat on my head and slid my sunglasses onto my face. It was still slightly cool outside, so the knit hat didn’t look that out of place. Hopefully I wouldn’t have to worry about being seen with Elle for much longer. I’d put in a request to meet with Tommy and although my request had been denied, Miles was working on a way around that.

The area of the park where the statue was located was under construction, as was almost everything in the Garden this time of year. Winter damage was harsh, but I was certain by the end of April there would be no sign of it.

I leaned back against some of the scaffolding that surrounded the at least forty-foot height of the eerily lifelike bronze George Washington on his horse. With my tie removed and sleeves rolled up, I looked like a resident out for a stroll after work.

A text from Miles told me Elle had arrived and he was off for the night. Miles and a crew of hired security men had been watching out for her since we’d gotten the note from Tommy in the hotel. Surprisingly, she’d never objected.

Scanning the area, I spotted her before she saw me. She was rolling some of that lip balm in a small silver tin that she seemed to have in multiples on her lips. She’d changed since I’d seen her this morning. No longer in a black skirt and blouse, she was wearing black skinny jeans, a gray sweater, her red hat, and a pair of boots.

I was practically frozen in place she was so beautiful.

It was hard to believe there was ever a moment when I thought being apart was the best choice for us.

This stupid fucking situation we were in wasn’t going to be easy to navigate, but I knew if I could just keep my shit together and think clearly, I’d get through it. I had two things to do—eliminate Tommy as a threat for good and figure out what O’Shea had or hadn’t done.

Maybe it was jealousy that had sparked the change of mind.

Maybe it was the fact that no one was safe.

Maybe it was because this wasn’t just about me anymore.

But I now felt confident I could accomplish those two things while keeping Elle safe and in my life at the same time.

She put the tin back in the purse that she wore strapped across her body and scanned the area with an almost blank expression on her face.

I pushed myself up just as she spotted me and I saw her entire face light up.

My legs moved fast and I smiled at her the entire distance it took to reach her. “Hey,” I said.

“Hi,” she said, smiling.

“Everything go okay today?”

She half nodded. “Only a handful of people showed up and none seemed to know my sister at all. It was sad, really.”

“Who were they, then?”

She shrugged. “I think they were people Michael knows from the courthouse. I’m not entirely certain. I saw one or two of them at the fundraiser. At least Michael’s sister stopped by for a few minutes. It was strange, though, that no one else from his family came.”

My hands went to her waist. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be there for you. I’m sure it wasn’t easy.”

“Thank you. I know you wanted to be but it’s not possible right now,” she said, and to lessen the burn, she placed her hands on my chest.

“Is everything all set for tomorrow?”

She sighed. “It is. Michael is going to keep it small.”

I nodded, having nothing else to say.

For the next few moments we gazed at each other, lost in each other’s eyes, and then I broke the connection only because the pull of her lips to mine was too much to put off for another second.

That mouth. I needed it.

Those lips. I was hungry for them.

That tongue. All I wanted was to taste it.

I was greedy for her.

Before I got as carried away as my thoughts in a public place, I broke the kiss. “Come on, we don’t have much time.”

“For what?”

“Just follow me.”

She accepted my outstretched hand.

Loving the feel of having her by my side, I squeezed her small hand. “You’re sure you’re okay?”

She nodded. “Distract me. Tell me what we’re doing here.”

“I’ll do better than that, I’ll show you.” I led her over the Lagoon Bridge to the Swan Boats. “See those?”

“The boats?”

Apparently not everyone knew how famous these boats were, so I paused halfway across the bridge and turned so we could lean over the railing. “Those aren’t just any boats. They are the Swan Boats.”

Her husky laugh was contagious. “I can see why they’re called that, but what is the significance?”

“Good question. In the late 1890s everyone wanted to ride across the lagoon, but obviously allowing anyone and everyone wasn’t feasible due to its small size. A really smart guy named Paget was the first to apply for a license for what he called a boat for hire. He wanted something to draw people in, to want to pay the cost of the small excursion, so he selected swans.”