View With Your Heart: a small town romance (Heart Collection Book 5)

by L. B. Dunbar

  Tears threaten to break as the sentiment is genuine and sweet, especially from him. I swallow around a lump in my throat. My mouth suddenly dry.

  “Hey, how are things on the taxes front?”

  “Ugh.” I fall to my back again, blinking up at the ceiling.

  “Tell me.” He perches on his elbow, looking down at me.

  “It’s nothing I can’t handle.”

  “Dammit, Britton,” he says softly. “Let me in.”

  “Fine. Her name is Rebecca Sterling, and she came to see me earlier today. She’s been relentless this summer. She’s always telling me the property is worth millions, especially because of how it’s situated, and she knows about the back taxes. It’s a lot of money. Some days, I try to tell myself it’s only a house, but still . . .”

  “Don’t ever sell, Brit. This place is too important. I’ve already told you I can help you if you need help.”

  I shake my head, not wanting to have this discussion. I can’t think about losing this house. It’s all I have left of Leo and Gertie. It’s all I have left of good memories.

  “Tell this woman to fuck off.”

  “I do. Well, not so colorful, but every time she approaches me, I tell her it’s not for sale.”

  “What do you need to get her off your back? An attorney? An accountant? I’ll hook you up with the best.”

  I chuckle bitterly. “You’re sweet, but no, thank you.”

  “Have you ever considered adding to this place? Making it bigger?” I roll to look at him. I have considered a larger home on this land, a little more space for Gee and me.

  “I can’t afford it,” I say sheepishly. I’m not embarrassed by my means. It’s just the truth.

  “Say you could afford it,” Gavin speaks as if reading my mind. “Just for fun, what would you do? How would you lay it out?”

  For the next half hour, I tell him about my dream house—the layout of the rooms, the open concept with lots of windows, two stories with more bedrooms even though I don’t have more children.

  “Why don’t you have more kids, Candy?”

  “Patrick was . . .” I almost say the truth, which would give away everything. The words were on the tip of my tongue. “It just didn’t happen for us.”

  Gavin nods. “That’s too bad.” He folds to his back, glancing up at the ceiling, and then looks back at me. “I would have loved to give you that house and fill all those rooms with babies.”

  My eyes fill with tears, and again, I say to him, “You’re sweet.”

  “You’re sweet, Candy Girl.” He rolls to face me. “And you deserved so much more.”

  Weakly smiling at him, I say, “Don’t pity me, Gavin. I had a lot.” I did. I had Patrick when I didn’t deserve him. I had Leo and Gertie, who loved me unconditionally, and I have Gee. “I have more than most, even if it’s unconventional.”

  Gavin nods before leaning forward and brushing his lips over mine.

  “I would happily give you everything,” he says, and my heart leaps with hope it shouldn’t have.

  Take 20

  Scene: Rogue River Bar

  [Britton]

  In the morning, Gavin and I leave without any witnesses as Gee isn’t home, and Theo is still sleeping. I drive Gavin directly to his car, but he follows me back to Main Street.

  “What are you doing?” I tease as he exits his rental, parking next to my car behind TeasMe!.

  “I want a cup of tea.”

  “Since when?” I joke.

  “Since the first day I learned you owned this place.”

  I laugh, allowing him to follow me into my store. He helps himself to a stool at the front counter while I flip on lights, turn on the oven for scones, and fire up the machines that brew our hot water.

  “So, tell me, why tea again?” Gavin asks me to make him a Breakfast Tea, which is a black tea.

  “When I was pregnant, it settled my stomach. Some nights I had trouble sleeping, and a chamomile blend helped. You know Gertie was into all that natural stuff.”

  “I bet you were beautiful when you were pregnant,” Gavin says as I hand over the hot mug. My fingers falter, almost dropping the ceramic to the counter. He gives his compliment without a thought, watching me. “Motherhood agrees with you.”

  I stare at him, at once thinking he says the strangest things and, at the same time, thinking I’ve never been so flattered in all my life.

  As the morning blooms, we grow busier, and Gavin subtly leaves, giving me a wink before he does.

  “Man, looks like someone has it bad,” Jenna teases, and I blush, thinking she means me. “That man wants a bit of your sweet scone.”

  My head pops up. “He does not.” We sound like teenagers, and I redden again.

  “What other man do you know sits here and drinks tea with you first thing in the morning?”

  Not even Patrick drank tea, preferring coffee. Even Gabe Carpenter, in his persistence, fakes his interest in tea, but Gavin drank his cup, indulged in a scone, and hung out.

  Jenna’s eyes continue to press at me. “You look different this morning.” Her breath catches before she speaks again. “Did you get lucky last night?”

  My eyes drift to the closest customer before turning back to Jenna. “Would you keep your voice down?”

  “You did, didn’t you?” Her voice immediately rises higher. Where is Henry when I need to defuse Jenna?

  “It was nothing,” I lie, as last night had been everything. His tenderness. His sweet words. He’d been missing me his entire life. Oh, how I wished the words were true.

  “Well, that hot piece of nothing wants you,” she continues, and I look toward the front door as if I’ll find Gavin still standing there.

  “He’s leaving on Sunday,” I remind her, reminding myself that whatever I’m feeling for Gavin needs to be kept in check, especially as I have something to tell him.

  “Leavin’ smeavin’. There’s such a thing as long distance. It’s called the internet and video chatting.” Jenna leans closer. “Phone sex, though not recommended as a substitute for the real thing.”

  “Okay, who are you?” I laugh. “I can’t do long distance. I have Gee. It isn’t feasible to run off every other weekend or whenever to be with Gavin.” Plus, I don’t even know if he’d want such a thing. Sighing as I make another cup of tea for a customer, I try to accept that my night with Gavin was one night only, just like that long-ago weekend.

  + + +

  My thoughts scatter as I take another sip of my Front Porch, the Rogue River specialty for the evening, which is a combination of alcohols with a hint of raspberry-blueberry flavor. It’s addicting and going down rather easily. The place isn’t overly crowded for a Thursday, but it’s playing good music, and the girls are enthusiastic about dancing. While I take barre classes, keeping up my basic ballet training in a new exercise format, I haven’t actually club danced in years. Not that this is a club but a country western bar, playing line dances and rowdy music.

  Jenna pulls me to the dance floor, forcing me to follow her moves as we dance to a song about girl power. My body sways, my hips move, and I close my eyes, falling into the song until I feel eyes on me. Looking up, I notice Gavin and the guys have crashed the party as he predicted. Jenna and I continue dancing, finishing up the song with her grinding up behind me. We laugh as the song ends, and it immediately transfers into a slower melody.

  Calum Scott and Leona Lewis break into song, and Gavin approaches me before I can leave the dance floor. Without asking, he circles my waist and pulls me back to the center of the floor, tucking me into his chest. He moves me in a slow tempo, matching the desperate lyrics from “You Are The Reason.” There’s a saying about a man who dances and his ability in the bedroom. I already know Gavin can perform, but I can’t remember ever dancing with him. His breathy whispers in my ear send shivers down my spine.

  “God, I’ve missed you,” he tells me, his voice quiet as if he’s been waiting all day—to see me again. It’s such a pow
erful feeling, and my head buzzes from the combination of alcohol, dancing, and Gavin’s body this close to mine. I pull back to look up at him, and he lowers to kiss me, quick and sweet.

  “Promise me I can take you home again tonight.” His eyes search my face.

  “I have Gee at home,” I remind him. He bites his lip.

  “I’d suggest the condo, but I don’t want you to run off once we’re done. Just let me hold you again.” His voice begs while his sight dips to my mouth.

  “I’m undecided,” I tease, and Gavin chuckles, leaning forward for another quick kiss. The song ends, and we rejoin the doubled group. Tom and Karyn are there with Jess and Emily. Ella and Ethan stand near the pregnant brigade of Leon and Tricia with Pam and Jacob. For the first time, I feel part of a large, loving family. It’s everything I could have ever wanted and nothing I’ll have once they all know the truth.

  “You okay?” Gavin asks.

  “I’m good,” I say, trying to disguise the lie and momentary sadness.

  Another song hits the sound system. “I love this song.” I reach for Jenna and drag her out to the floor, moving with the choppy, clapping rhythm. Hozier has the most soulful voice, and his song “Movement” reminds me of the dance company. Moving in ways the dance floor doesn’t fully allow, I modify the slithering of my body to match the sultry sound. I’m sweating as I twirl. My hips sway, and my feet sashay. It’s invigorating, and I lose myself in the song, letting go of all the concerns, all the secrets, all the sorrow for the beat of a three-minute song.

  When the song ends, I find Gavin’s eyes heated and pinned to me. When I near the standing table, he sets his beer bottle down, reaches out for me, and doesn’t allow me to stop walking. Instead, he tugs me toward the exit of the bar.

  “Gavin.” I laugh. “We’re being rude.” He doesn’t respond, just continues pulling me forward, moving us through the back door and down to the dock behind the restaurant. As soon as we hit the wood planks, he spins to me and crashes his lips to mine, holding my head in place to devour my lips. If we were in a movie, this is when the cameras would circle the couple, twirling around and around them in this magical moment of kissing under starlight near a quiet lake. Gavin is relentless, shifting my head to the other side and continuing to savor me, memorize me. I’m breathless when we finally break, foreheads resting on each other’s.

  “What was that?” I tease.

  “The way you move. You can still dance, Brit. Your body. It’s crazy.” He stammers through his explanation as his hands skim down the length of me, outlining my form. His condo is only a hundred yards from us, and although he said he only wants to hold me, I need him again.

  Just one more time. The proverbial clock is ticking, counting down until he’ll never want to spend time with me again.

  Taking his hand, I step away from him, leading him to the end of the dock, but then I turn us to the short beach, guiding him to his building.

  “Candy, we don’t have to do this,” he says, but everything in him says he wants me, especially when he takes over my lead and drags me toward the building.

  We quickly climb the three flights of stairs and fall into his rented condo, laughing with nerves and eagerness. Once inside, we remain standing in the living room, returning to a make-out session reminiscent of every kiss we’ve ever shared. Hands roam. Mouths hunger. Gavin didn’t bother turning on the lights, and he strips me of my clothing, falling to his knees and spreading my thighs.

  “Gavin,” I hiss as his face comes between my legs and his tongue finds me in that delicious way he did last night. His tongue slides through me. His thumb finds the sweet spot, and I dance over him until I break. My body tingles everywhere, and Gavin quickly stands, removing his own clothes. I watch the striptease, eager to touch his bare skin. When he stills before me, my hands coast over his broad shoulders, along the flat of his upper chest and the ripples of his lower belly. My fingers slip through the trail leading lower before curling around his stiff shaft, long, firm, and ready for me.

  “I want you, Brit.” His fingers tuck my hair behind an ear, and he kisses me. Lifting me, he carries me to the lounger on his balcony.

  “Everyone will see us,” I warn him, looking over my shoulder to the bar no more than a football field length away. The lights inside reflect out the windows. The thump of country bass echoes out the open back doors.

  “No one’s watching us,” he whispers, cupping my chin and turning me back to him. He guides me over him, and I grind against him as I did last night, coating him with my wet heat.

  “Condom,” I whisper again, awkward in asking.

  “Do you trust me?” Gavin asks. “Let me be without.” It’s the same thing he’d said to me that weekend.

  Just once without anything.

  “Gavin, that’s risky.”

  “Take a risk with me, Brit,” he teases, and my heart breaks. I want to do anything he asks, but he and I are a chemistry experiment I can’t repeat. Sensing my unease, he slips me off him and disappears into the condo. Returning seconds later, he has a bedspread and a small square packet in hand. He wraps the large spread over my shoulders before sheathing himself. It’s warm with the covering, but we return to our previous position, and I feel a bit better, less inhibited. Gavin sits back, and I rub up and down him again until we’re both panting.

  “Now, Brit,” he demands, and I tip him to my entrance, taking him into me. We sigh in relief as he fills me. Stilling, we kiss as I hold him inside me, just soaking in the moment. There’s no other way to connect with another, and I feel Gavin on a level so deep it frightens me. Slowly, I roll, moving my hips over him to a rhythm set in my head.

  “The way you move.” Gavin grins, hands skimming my sides before resting on my hips. He lets me rock forward. He forces me to roll back. Together, we set the pace until I need to move on my own, finding that spot where my clit rubs against him in a certain way, and my breath catches.

  “That’s it.” Gavin’s smug voice hints to reading my body, and I continue to move, increasing the tempo, taking what I need from him. My hands clutch at his shoulders. My hair is wild as my head turns side to side. It’s too much and not enough, and then I break, clenching over him, pinning him in place.

  “Fuck yeah,” Gavin growls before cupping my backside. He shifts our position, moving us off the lounger and slipping out of me. Picking up the blanket wrapped around me, he flips it around his shoulders, turns me so my back presses against his chest, and walks us forward to the balcony railing.

  “Gavin?” I question.

  “This was my favorite position that weekend.” He bends me forward to grip the top of the railing. The blanket drapes over us, but it will fall within seconds as Gavin thrusts into me, restoring our connection. “Look up at the stars, baby.”

  Momentarily, I glance upward to a black night covered in pinpricks of light. The waves slowly lap at the lake’s edge below, and in the distance, a thumping beat comes from the bar. Gavin matches the rustic sound, slamming into me over and over as I clutch the decorative railing, holding on tight as he surges forward, filling me.

  “So good,” he mutters, fingers digging into my hips as he moves in and out. My breath continues to catch until he leans forward, skimming one hand to my belly, seeking lower on me. He brushes at my clit as he enters me on repeat. I hiss his name in wonder and surprise as the sensation is more than anything I’ve felt before.

  “I’m going to break again,” I warn. Nothing’s ever been this intense.

  “Yes. Again. Break all over me.” The words push me over the edge, and my knees lock, holding me in place as I come. He pistons into me, drawing it out until he stills as well, buried as deep as he can be while he goes off inside me. How I wish he was bare. How I wish we could share that experience, but we’ve already done such a thing. I force my mind away from history as I soak up what we’ve done in the present.

  Sex on a balcony. Reversed to a railing. Under the moonlight.

  I’ll never th
ink of the moonlight the same.

  Take 21

  Scene: Emily and Jess’s Wedding

  [Gavin]

  I didn’t want Britton to feel like she was some one-and-done hookup, so after we clean up from sex on the balcony, we go to her house where I spend the night, promising to sneak out in the morning. I just want to hold her as I’d said, and in many ways, I did it more for me than her. I don’t want things to be like Zoey and me, where we rushed and rolled to our corners of the bed. We were fast, furious, and finished in fifteen. I don’t want that with Britton. She isn’t that kind of woman.

  Like Jess had said, she’s the kind you move home for, and thoughts of doing such a thing continue to creep into my head. I couldn’t move here-home. I have a home. I have a new career. I need to be there.

  But the time limit on my stay is speeding faster.

  Friday evening is a casual rehearsal dinner at Ethan’s restaurant. Jess and Emily are being married in the old red barn on the property, and it’s the first event Ethan will host with such a large gathering.

  “It’s a trial run to see if we even want to host bigger events. You’re my guinea pigs,” Ethan teases Jess and Emily.

  “More like lab rats.” Jess snorts. “Although everything better go off without a hitch for my girl.”

  Emily smiles every time Jess calls her his girl, and I wonder how Brit would feel if I want to call her mine.

  After dinner, I make my way to her place where we watch a movie with Gee, and then I join him in his room to watch him play a few rounds of a new video game.

  “Okay, buddy, time to let Coach have a break,” Britton says after I don’t know how much time has passed.

  I hadn’t paid much attention to his room as Gee dragged me directly to the small monitor and gaming system. When I stand from my seat on his bed, I notice a magnetic board covered with pictures, school certificates, and baseball awards. My eyes catch on something, and I do a double take.