Follow Me Back

by A. L. Jackson

  Evan was jumping around, flapping his arms, begging me. I smiled at him. “I’m thinking Evan is excited by this prospect.”

  I could hear Josiah shouting in the background, “Can he, Mom, can he?”

  “Put me out of my misery, Hope. Tell me Evan is free today,” Chanda said, nothing but affection in her voice for her son, who had to be just as eager as mine.

  Light laughter tumbled out, and I ran a loving hand through my son’s hair. “Of course, that would be great. I have a project I need to finish up really quick, but I can drop him off at your house in an hour.”

  “Sounds good. See you soon.”

  I ended the call, my hands quick as I spoke with my son.

  PACK YOUR THINGS. YOU’RE SLEEPING OVER, TOO.

  YES!

  He gave a victorious pump of his fist before he was flying out the kitchen, the entire house shaking as he banged down the hall and into his room.

  “Someone must be excited,” Jenna said, taking a sip of her coffee.

  I angled my head when another clatter echoed through the walls. “Apparently.”

  Jenna grinned. “I wasn’t talking about him.”

  16

  Hope

  I pulled into the parking lot tucked behind the rows of old buildings that ran the length of Macaber Street.

  An anxious shiver ran my spine.

  Nervously, I glanced between the address Kale had texted and the copper-hewn letters affixed to the back entrance of the building.

  This was it.

  Opening the door to my Suburban, I hopped out, doing my best not to shake like some kind of giddy fool as I rounded to the back and opened the hatch.

  But that was what I felt.

  Giddy.

  Jenna was right.

  Someone was excited.

  And it was me.

  He lived in a building that had to be more than a hundred years old.

  Gorgeous.

  Stoic.

  Proud.

  It was five stories high, the red bricks aged to a roughened, blackened patina. It was obviously one of the old, historic buildings that lined this street that had been reclaimed and repurposed into trendy, downtown living spaces.

  Trees grew up all around its perimeter, thick trunks and spindly branches stretched wide as they lifted toward that blue Alabama sky, the everlasting scent of wild honeysuckle wafting through the warm, heated air.

  I felt flushed beneath it, but I was sure it didn’t have a thing to do with the sun.

  I grabbed the big box, which held five hundred lollipops, balanced it against my stomach, and pressed the fob to lower the hatch.

  My heels clicked against the pavement as I walked toward the building.

  Yep.

  I was wearing heels.

  After I’d dropped Evan at Josiah’s, I told myself I was just hopping into the shower to freshen up since I’d gotten a little hot and sweaty. Of course, since I was in there anyway, I shaved just about every inch of my body. Then I spent way too much time on my hair and another hour standing in front of the mirror deciding what to wear.

  God, I really was in deep. Getting reckless and eager and hopeful in a way I wasn’t sure I should be.

  But it was there. Spinning around me. The need compelling me to step forward and take a chance. Urging me in a direction that might be foolish.

  I knew I had to be careful.

  But I refused to live my life walking on eggshells. A prisoner to Dane’s will. I was living for Evan. I was living for myself. I was living for us.

  At the security door, I situated the box onto my left hip and punched in the code he’d given me. There was a buzz and the metal lock gave. The door popped open an inch. I pulled it the rest of the way open with the toe of my shoe and angled through.

  Inside, the bricks remained exposed, and a bunch of leather couches were set up in a common area that took up a good amount of the bottom floor.

  An old-style elevator with a half-moon dial waited behind the sitting area in the middle and an open-well staircase zigzagged back and forth against the right wall.

  Elevator.

  Definitely the elevator.

  When the door slid open, I stepped in and hit the button for the fifth floor with my elbow. The elevator lifted, bouncing and jerking as it climbed, grinding on its cogs, winding me tighter and tighter the higher it went.

  By the time the opposite side of it opened at the top floor, I was a shaking mess.

  I didn’t know why.

  But coming there felt like taking a leap.

  Stepping out on a limb.

  On faith.

  Landing on this shimmery, fluttery feeling that promised Kale was intended to be something special to me.

  Even if it might be dangerous.

  I advanced into the quiet, dimly lit hall. Choking on my nerves, I turned right, passing the first apartment and heading to the second and only other one on the floor.

  I paused, gathered my wits, and shifted the box to my hip before gently rapping on his door.

  Two seconds later, it flew open. The sight of Kale standing there made me take a stumbling step back.

  The man so beautiful.

  So tall and commanding.

  Jeans snug and his T-shirt tight.

  Arrogant.

  And somehow so fundamentally sweet.

  It was written all over him when his confused gaze bounced around me, searching the hall for my son. “Where’s Evan?” he asked when his attention landed back on me.

  “He’s spending the night at a friend’s,” I answered, the words rough as they pulled from my throbbing throat.

  Kale’s expression transformed, disappointment melting to something severe when he realized I was alone.

  Seductive.

  “Ah, my princess has made it to the tower. All by herself. Awfully brave.”

  A shy, affected smile tweaked the edge of my lips, and I peeked up at him. This man.

  He made me feel . . . different.

  More beautiful than I had in a long, long time.

  Wanted in a way that was right and not filled with cruel intentions.

  I did my best to play along with his ribbing, widened my eyes. “Um . . . I think you might have this backward. Isn’t it the knight who’s supposed to save the princess who’s locked in the tower?”

  He grinned that grin that made me weak in the knees. “Who said I’m not about to lock her up and keep her here forever?”

  My tummy tightened, affection pulsing from within while I tried to maintain the playfulness this boy exuded. “Should I be scared? Here you promised you weren’t stalking me. And I thought you claimed to be the one who wanted to save me? I’m confused.”

  “Yet, here you are, standing at my door, searching for a way to break into my castle and looking like that while you do it.”

  His gaze swept me from head to toe.

  It elicited a rush of heat that climbed into the thrumming air. Awareness spun like an exotic dance, twisting through the motes that floated in the rays of sunlight that speared through his door and lit him up from behind.

  A spotlight.

  Undoubtedly, that was where he belonged.

  Everything about him was distracting. That body and those eyes and his giving, beautiful heart.

  That was the part that had me snared. Happy to get caught up in his trap.

  “Touché.” It played from my mouth on a flimsy, shuddered breath.

  He edged forward, voice growing darker. “And don’t you worry yourself, Princess, I’m all about the saving. Why don’t you come inside, and I’ll show you exactly what that’s like? I think you might have been misinformed.”

  That well of desire in my belly sloshed, threatening to overflow. A few fat droplets splashed out like a drenching tease, fuel for the ache that begged for more at the juncture between my thighs.

  Because he was right. All these years, I had been brutally misinformed. He’d showed me just how much so that first night out on th
e balcony. Again, last night. And I had no idea how much more of that education I could take before I completely belonged to him.

  Before he owned me in every way.

  He felt so much bigger than my tiny world. As if he were expanding it. Filling it with possibility.

  So obscenely tall. Overpowering in his casual, confident way. Lean muscle that bristled when he worked with those big, big hands.

  Lips full and soft and lush.

  So lush my mouth watered standing there looking up at his provocative face.

  I’d been right at the beginning.

  The man was discord.

  Chaos with an easy, arrogant smile.

  A perfect, controlled disorder.

  I could almost feel that broken heart already making its first, tiny crack.

  A splinter that creaked through me like a warning.

  Because I could resist a pretty face.

  But it was the tenderness and care lined beneath his gorgeous exterior that made him truly dangerous. What had drawn me to him all along.

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea. I think you already showed me plenty last night.”

  Kale pressed his hands to either side of the doorjamb, leaned in close, and whispered, “Oh, Shortcake, that was me barely getting started.”

  Tingles spread. A flash fire of need that raced through my veins.

  That was the thing about Kale Bryant. He knew exactly how to get to me.

  I pushed the box his direction. “Here are the lollipops. Thank you so much for helping with them. I wish I could express just how much that means to me.”

  I wished, too, that I could express to him how I was feeling more. How I felt desperate to explore and test and tease him the way he’d been teasing me.

  He took the box and set it on the floor just inside his door, one of those smoldering smirks lighting at the edge of his alluring mouth when he straightened to his full, towering height.

  Oh, he was dangerous to me when he got that way. Steadily winning me over. Second by second. Grin by grin. The heart beneath that chipped all the brash away.

  “I can’t believe I left you standing there holding that. I’m really slacking on my knightly duties, aren’t I? Letting you stand there with that heavy box. The atrocity. Have to admit, I was a little distracted by the very stimulating conversation I was having. Let me make it up to you.”

  It was all mischief and mayhem from between those flirty lips, because he knew as well as I did that box didn’t weigh all that much.

  His eyes glinted in playfulness while his pupils dilated in a distinct kind of wickedness.

  His expression alone invited me to partake in a thousand scandalous acts.

  I wavered, rocking back on my heels. “I think I should go.”

  Before I fell.

  It was instant, the way his hand darted out to cup my face, his voice gruff. “I think you should stay.”

  I watched the plea play out in his eyes.

  Let me touch you.

  Let me take care of you.

  Let me be your hero.

  Just for a little while.

  A tremble ripped through my body. His touch gasoline.

  Instant.

  The inferno raging inside me.

  My tongue darted out to wet my suddenly dry lips. “If I sleep with you, there won’t be any going back for me, Kale Bryant. Don’t make me fall in love with you. I don’t think either of us are ready for that.”

  There was zero provocation in the words, no hint of a tease, just my stark vulnerability. I wrung my fingers in front of me, waiting for his reaction. The air thick. So thick I couldn’t breathe while Kale stood there staring at me as something flashed across his gorgeous face.

  Both vivid and obscure.

  And I couldn’t stop myself from letting the words tumble free. “I know what I deserve, Kale. I know who I am, even though it’s only been the last couple years that I’ve finally stood up and demanded it.”

  I inhaled a harsh breath, my eyes darting across his face to make sure he understood. “What I’m afraid of is you leading me down a path I’m not sure I can travel. Because maybe I am the fool who loves too easily. The one who sees the best in people. The one who sees what they deserve. Evan’s dad didn’t leave me jaded. He left me knowing exactly what it is I want. And what scares me most is I see so much of what I want in you, and I’m not sure you see the same in me.”

  My heart clenched, and I felt another piece of my world shatter when he stepped forward and pushed his fingers into my hair. His hand weaved all the way around to hold me by the back of the head, angling me back as he pulled me closer.

  Holding me up. As if he’d never let me fall.

  “God damn it, Hope. You really think I don’t see that in you? I have no idea how to make sense of this. How to understand what it is you make me feel. What you make me want. But it’s there. Haunting me. Chasing me. Demanding more.”

  He gathered me closer, his nose brushing mine, his words quiet and rough. “I don’t know how to stop thinking about you. About Evan.”

  A tremor rolled through him, and his hold tightened. “I want you in a way I’ve never wanted anyone. Not ever. But I’m afraid I’m not capable of being the man you see because there isn’t a whole lot of that guy left. I lost him a long time ago. I live for the people around me. For my job. My friends. Their families. My patients. I’ve walked that line for a long, long time. The straight. The narrow. Never veering from my path. But as hard as I try to stop it, colliding with you feels unavoidable.”

  God. This incredible man.

  So beautiful and giving, radiating a selfless kind of devotion behind that stunning, devastating exterior. Haunted by something he wouldn’t allow me to see.

  Staring up at him, I let my fingertips trail across the sharp curve of his jaw. “What about living for you?”

  The chuckle that rumbled in his chest was almost dark, words back to flirting with a tease, skirting that subject that hovered around him like a dark, condemning halo. “How about I just keep showing you what you’ve been missing out on?”

  “That hardly seems fair,” I whispered, the words wisps and tendrils that got hung up on his seduction that spun around us.

  He gently plucked the pad of his thumb across my bottom lip. “Just getting to touch you feels like the best thing in the world.”

  My heart shivered.

  In affection.

  In want.

  In something that almost felt like despair.

  “Kale.” It was a murmur.

  Praise.

  A spark.

  Because his mouth crashed against mine.

  His arms wound around my waist, and he pulled me into his apartment.

  He kicked the door shut behind us without breaking the kiss.

  Hot hands explored. Gliding down my back. Palming my bottom. Roaming up my sides.

  A moan rippled up my throat, and his tongue swept into my mouth, tangling with mine.

  Needy and desperate.

  Overpowering.

  Overwhelming.

  My head spun, and I was suddenly in his arms.

  My legs wrapped around his narrow waist.

  Second nature.

  Exactly where I belonged.

  “Hope,” he mumbled at my mouth as he carried me through his massive, open loft.

  The floors echoed with his heavy footsteps as they thudded across the worn, dark planks and toward the massive leather couch set up in the middle of the living space.

  Pure masculine style and impeccable taste with the need for comfort at the root of it all.

  Just like the man.

  Setting me down on the dark cushions, he dropped to his knees on the plush white rug.

  Expression predatory.

  No doubt, he was preparing to devour and destroy.

  He palmed my knees. The simple contact made me arch and gasp.

  “It’s getting harder and harder to resist you,” he murmured, voice scraping and ra
w.

  “Then why are you trying?”

  Because I was already so far beyond that point. The second I stepped through his door, I knew it was over. That there was no longer any resisting.

  I was tumbling.

  Plunging.

  Falling.

  He groaned, as if my statement caused him physical pain, his blond hair striking in the late afternoon light, the curves and lines and definition of his striking face bold.

  His expression enough to tear through me.

  Flames licked across my skin, and just the sight of him had need coiling inside me so tightly I could barely see.

  “Fuck, Hope. I want to give. You make me want to fucking give.” He blinked, sucking in a breath. “Let me make you feel good. Please. I want to make you feel good.”

  I arched. “Nothing feels better than you.”

  That smirk resurfaced, whatever reservations that had lingered in his eyes eradicated, that brazen confidence riding back.

  Taking hold.

  “This dress. What are you wearing, baby?” He ran his hands up the outside of my thighs, under my flimsy, beige dress, the material loose but the skirt short. “God, you are the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. What do you think you’re trying to do to me?”

  He dipped down and ran his lips along the inside of my thigh as he whispered the words. “Showing up at my house looking like this?”

  I whimpered, threaded my fingers through his hair while I sank back into his couch, head rocking on the cushions as he made a delirium-inducing path upward.

  Kissing up my bare thigh.

  Shivers.

  His mouth continued its assault, traipsing over the top of the material while his hands moved under it. He grabbed me by the outside of the thighs and dragged my bottom to the edge of the couch as he edged up, kissing higher and higher.

  Over my belly that shuddered and shook.

  Nose running across the top of one of my breasts.

  Dipping between.

  He kissed a path over my heart, which thundered and roared, until he buried his face in my neck and carved out a spot for himself between my knees at the same time.

  I could feel his heat where he pressed eagerly at me.