A brand new small-town, second chance romance is now available from Brighton Walsh—the perfect blend of sizzling passion and sweet romance—and I have a little sneak peek for you.
Excerpt
Finn dropped a soft, sweet kiss on Willow’s lips, then wrapped his arm around her shoulders and guided her toward the truck. “Sweet as this invitation was, I didn’t figure you planned to do much in that tiny toy car of yours.”
“Hey, I like that tiny toy car.” She elbowed him in the side then glanced at her little Prius. It was perfect for tooling around town and getting her where she needed to go, but it wouldn’t serve Mr. Six-Foot-Two very well. And, truth be told, she hadn’t thought much past getting him out here so they could be alone. Some planner she was. “Though I guess you’re right…”
“Good thing I thought ahead.” He dropped his arm from her shoulders and pulled down the tailgate. The bed of the truck was piled high with blankets and half a dozen pillows, a perfect, cozy nest. “What’d you say, Willowtree? Wanna look at some stars with me?”
The words made her pause, made her heart skip a beat. They’d been the exact ones he’d said to her, in this exact location, more than a decade earlier. It’d been their first date, and she’d been such a mix of nerves and excitement, she’d been worried she’d throw up her lunch.
Finn hadn’t had much money, and Willow hadn’t cared if they’d gone out to eat or to a movie like all her friends tended to do on their dates. Instead, he’d driven them around in his beat-up truck—one so decrepit, she’d prayed it would run long enough to get them back home safely—until they’d found this place. That decrepit truck had lasted dozens of times, taking them from town out to their little pocket of paradise and back again.
Damn. This was bad. So bad. She could actually feel her walls crumbling. Cracks and fissures on every surface she’d erected around her heart. Trouble was, even though she knew it was bad, knew it was happening, she had no desire to stop it. She’d spent years feeling nothing more than a mere blip of attraction to a small handful of men. With Finn, it was different, a single star compared to the whole galaxy. It was intoxicating to feel this mix of desire and chemistry again.
As long as she kept things on track, it’d be fine. As long as she kept reminding herself this was temporary, that Finn wasn’t there to stay—that their affair would end, again—she’d be fine.
So she smiled up at him, dipping her chin in answer.
“Attagirl.” He lifted her straight up into the truck bed before jumping in after her.
“Awful cozy up here, Griffin Reilly.” She settled back against the pillows stacked along the cab of the truck, her legs stretched out in front of her. “What, exactly, were you plannin’ on gettin’ up to back here?”
He lay next to her, the arm closest to her folded behind his head, as if offering his chest for her to snuggle into. Not that she was going to do that. Snuggling was something couples did, and that was one thing they definitely weren’t.
“I’m not sure what you’re insinuatin’, Miss Haven. I’d only planned to look at the stars.” He pointed to the sky and twirled his finger in an unknown pattern. “Thought we might try to make some dirty pictures out of what we see.”
She laughed and followed where he pointed. “That sounds more in line with what I know of you.”
He gasped, dropping his hand to his chest as if he were affronted by her words. “Me? You’re the one who came out here with plans to…what? No blankets in your car, no pillows, no picnic basket, or iPod to listen to.” He leaned close, dipping his head down to whisper into her ear. “Were you hoping I’d push you up against that tree, or that I’d send you to your knees in the field and take you from behind?”
Sweet Lord in heaven, his words did nothing to abate the burning low in her belly, the ache that’d settled permanently between her legs. She tried not to let her reaction show when she said, “Actually, I thought we might go for a swim.”
Finn hummed, not moving his mouth from her ear, and the sound sent ripples of need down her spine. “Pity. I didn’t bring a swimsuit.”
Funny. Neither did she. They never did—hadn’t since the first time they’d done it.
She turned her head so they were nose-to-nose, his warm breath whispering across her lips. “Since when has that stopped you?”
He reached up and brushed her hair away from her face, then trailed a single finger from her temple to her jaw. Leaning in, he nuzzled her neck. “You know what’s funny? Everyone thinks you’re so innocent, but really you’re a terrible influence on me.”
She laughed, and he joined along, his puffs of breath tickling her collarbone. When he didn’t respond to her original request, she pulled back so he’d lift his head, their noses once again brushing. “So? You gonna let me be a terrible influence on you and drag you skinny-dippin’ with me?”
The look he pinned her with said if they did this, they’d be doing a whole lot more than skinny-dipping when they got in that water.
Which was exactly what she’d been hoping for.
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