Timid (Lark Cove Book 2)

by Devney Perry

  She shook her head. “Let’s talk about it now.”

  “I don’t want to wreck your Thanksgiving.”

  “Too late,” she whispered. “Why? I want to know why.”

  My shoulders fell. The last thing I wanted was to do this today, or any day, but she deserved an explanation. At least today, she’d be here with her family. So I took a deep breath, met her gaze and dove headfirst into a conversation I’d been dreading for weeks.

  “We want different things.”

  “Different things?” she repeated. “Like what?”

  “Marriage. Kids.”

  “You don’t want to get married.”

  I shook my head. “No, I don’t.”

  “Ever? Or just to me?”

  “Ever.” The last thing I wanted was for her to think it was because of her. If there was a woman I’d marry, it would be Willa.

  But I wasn’t that guy. I saw the way she looked at her parents. She wanted what they had. Commitment. Love. Till death do us part. I wasn’t the man to give her those things.

  “So what if I told you I didn’t want to get married either?” she asked.

  “You don’t want to get married?”

  “Yes, I do. I want to get married. I want to have what my parents have.” She looked over her shoulder at the house. “But I want to know if marriage was off the table, would you still be doing this?”

  “Yes.”

  She gritted her teeth. “Why?”

  “You’re going to want kids.”

  “How do you know?” she fired back. “You’ve never asked me. How do you know I want kids?”

  Because I knew her. Inside and out, I knew Willa.

  And at this moment, she needed to play this little game. I’d go along with it and answer her hypotheticals if it made it easier to say good-bye.

  “Well?” I asked. “Do you want kids?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “Then there you go. I don’t.”

  She dropped her arms, fisting her hands at her sides. The last time I’d seen her this frustrated, she’d been on her doorstep in her pajamas. I’d never forget how beautiful she was the first night I came to her house.

  “Why?” she asked.

  “Why, what?”

  “Why don’t you want kids?”

  “I just . . . don’t. I don’t want kids. I don’t want to get married. You do. End of story. End of us.”

  She rocked back on her heels like I’d shoved her. “So that’s it?”

  I nodded. “That’s it.”

  “Okay,” she whispered, dropping her chin. A tear fell, landing in a scuff of snow by her boot.

  My hand reached for her on instinct, but I forced it back and into my pocket. “I’ll go. Do you want me to take Ryder?”

  She shook her head, wrapping her arms around her stomach. “No. Let him stay.”

  I opened my mouth to tell her good-bye but the words wouldn’t come. My feet wouldn’t move off the edge of the deck, because the moment I stepped off, this would be over.

  I took one last long look at Willa, the woman who’d given me the best summer of my life, and whispered, “I’m sorry.”

  She didn’t respond. She didn’t look at me.

  She just let me go.

  I stepped off the deck, nearly collapsing as a lead weight settled on my shoulders. My boots were so heavy I had to practically drag my feet across the yard and onto the school’s property.

  Every step I took, I got colder. I felt sicker.

  This feeling was the reason I didn’t get close to people. This was the reason it was better to live alone. It hurt too much to say good-bye. It was damn near crippling.

  I walked faster, angry at myself and this entire situation. And I was angry at Willa for making me feel this way.

  Why had she waited so long for me? Why had she made me crave her? Why couldn’t she have gone to college and met her future husband? That way, I never would have known her. She would have always just been Willow.

  This was just as much her fault as it was mine.

  My strides got longer as I played the irrational blame game. I didn’t play for long. I wanted to be mad at Willa, but I couldn’t.

  She was innocent, just a victim of my fucked-up life.

  Maybe I wasn’t so different from Melissa Page after all. I’d stolen a page from her playbook today, making sure that I was never the one in the rearview mirror again.

  I’d almost reached the swing set when an angry word rang across the playground.

  “No.”

  What? My feet stopped and I spun around.

  Willa was right behind me, not five feet away. Had she been following me this whole time?

  “Willa—”

  “No,” she cut me off again, closing the distance between us.

  “No, what?”

  “No, you don’t get to leave.”

  I sighed. “Go home, Willa.” Please go home. I didn’t have it in me to say no if she asked me to stay.

  She looked up at me with a defiance like nothing I’d ever seen before. She looked fierce and bold and beautiful.

  And she told me, “No.”

  “Why are you doing this?”

  She crossed her arms over her chest. “Because I want an explanation.”

  “And I just gave you one.”

  “It wasn’t good enough.”

  Her chin rose as she spoke. She stood taller today since her knee-high boots gave her a few extra inches. I still towered over her, but her stance was almost intimidating. When had she gotten this backbone? She never challenged me on, well . . . anything.

  “I don’t know what else to say.”

  “Why don’t you want to get married?”

  I shrugged. “Because I don’t. I never have.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know. I just don’t.”

  “Is it because you don’t believe in marriage? Or because you don’t want to make a commitment?”

  My hands fisted. “No.”

  “Then what?” Her voice was getting louder. She was as frustrated as I was. “Why don’t you want to get married? You said it wasn’t me, so why? Because the way I see it . . . you either don’t want to get married to me and you’re lying. Or you are just scared.”

  Should I lie? Should I tell her I didn’t want to marry her?

  It would be pointless. She’d see right through my bullshit, and I couldn’t do that to her. Some sick part of me wanted Willa to love me—just a little—even after this was over.

  “It’s not you,” I confessed.

  “Then you’re scared. Why?”

  “Why does not wanting to get married mean I’m scared?”

  She narrowed her eyes. “You’re scared.”

  “I’m not scared, Willa.”

  “Then what?” She uncrossed her arms, throwing up her hands. “Why? I want to know why.”

  “I don’t know why!” I shouted. “Okay? I don’t know why. I just know that I don’t want to get married. I don’t want to feel trapped.”

  “So you feel like I trap you?”

  I sighed. “No.”

  “But you just said that being married would mean you’d be trapped. Is that what you think about all marriages? Do you think Thea feels trapped by Logan? Or my dad feels trapped by my mom?”

  “No.”

  “Then your reason is shit.”

  I jerked back and frowned. She rarely cussed and it always took me by surprise.

  “I don’t know what else to say, Willa. I don’t want to get married. I don’t want kids. I’m not going to be the guy who takes those things away from you.”

  “So you’re doing all this to set me free?”

  “Yes.” I closed the space between us. “I’m not husband material. Or father material. Go. Be with someone who is.”

  She searched my eyes, trying to decide if I was telling the truth. Every passing second was killing me.

  Walk away, babe. Just walk away.

  “No,” sh
e whispered.

  “Please.” I closed my eyes. “Please. Go.”

  “Just tell me why.”

  “I don’t know.” It was the truth. “I don’t know anything about being a husband or a father. I don’t know how to love. What I do know is that people walk out more often than they stay. I don’t want to be the guy who walks out on his family. You need someone you can depend on. That’s not me. Eventually, I’ll let you down. I’ll fuck all of this up.”

  All of the confidence in her face vanished and her shoulders drooped. “So you’re worried you’re going to leave me and break my heart, yet here you are, leaving me and breaking my heart. That doesn’t make any sense.”

  No, it really didn’t. But it was the right thing to do. “I don’t know how to love you.”

  With that, she dropped her chin. When her shoulders began to shake, the pain in my heart multiplied tenfold. I couldn’t handle it when she cried. I couldn’t breathe. All I wanted to do was pull her into my arms and promise it would be okay, but since I couldn’t make that promise, I had to stand here and watch.

  A sound escaped her mouth and she slapped a hand over her lips. Her hair had fallen in front of her face, shielding it from me.

  “Please, just go insi—”

  She threw her head back and laughed.

  She’s laughing?

  She was, and loud. The entire playground echoed with it as she dropped her hand from her mouth. The pain on her face from thirty seconds ago was gone. Instead, she wore a wide smile full of triumphant joy.

  It was beautiful but damn hard to look at. She was happy I was letting her go? Never in a million years would I have expected her to be relieved, and fuck did it hurt. But I guess it would make everything easier, wouldn’t it?

  She looked back at me, the smile still on her face, and she shook her head. “I was right.”

  “Right about what?”

  “You’re scared.” She stopped laughing and swiped the tears from the corners of her eyes. “You love me and it scares you to death. Not because you’re worried that you’ll leave me. But because you’re terrified I’ll leave you, just like everyone else has always done.”

  “That’s not—I’m doing this for you.”

  She rolled her eyes and guffawed.

  Was I scared? Maybe I was. Maybe she was right. Maybe I was terrified that she’d crumble my heart into a thousand pieces. But the fact still remained.

  “You deserve more than me.”

  She shook her head, closing the remaining space between us. She put her hands on my chest and locked her eyes with mine. “There is no more than you.”

  “Willa—”

  “Do you love me?”

  Her question sent ice through my veins. Pure. Petrifying. Ice. I wanted to lie and run away. I wanted to tell her no and be done with this. But with her blue eyes searching mine, only one word came to mind.

  “Yes.”

  The corner of her mouth turned up. “I knew it.”

  “But,” I dropped my forehead to hers, “that doesn’t change anything. This can’t work. It would be better for you to just walk away.”

  She shook her head. “I’m not much of a fighter and I rarely stand up for myself. But I’m standing up for you. I’ll fight for you.” Her hands slid up to my cheeks, pushing me back so she could look me in the eye. “I’m not letting you go. And I’ll never leave you behind.”

  I closed my eyes, trying to work up the nerve to leave. But fuck, I wanted to keep her. Forever. Would she stay? Would Willa be that one person to stick?

  Yes.

  She was my courageous champion. My warrior. My lover. My friend.

  My everything.

  Willa was the one.

  “I love you, Jackson Page,” she whispered. “Don’t run away from me. Please.”

  I leaned back and swallowed hard. I’d never told anyone that I loved them. She made it seem easy, but the words were stuck in my throat. “I, uh—”

  “Don’t.” She pressed her fingers to my lips and smiled. “It’s okay.”

  Relief rushed over my shoulders as I stared at her winning smile. It was the same one she’d had a few moments ago, but it wasn’t smug, just happy and free and stunning. I was torn between staring at it for an hour and kissing the hell out of it.

  I went with option two.

  I slammed my mouth down on hers, swooping her up in my arms. My tongue dove into her open mouth, twisting and tangling with hers. When her legs wrapped around my hips, I gripped her ass, tugging her even closer.

  With her arms wrapped around my shoulders, I kissed her until I was dizzy.

  My chest was heaving as Willa leaned back to look at me, but I didn’t set her down. I kept her in my arms so we could stare at each other nose to nose.

  I ached to show her how I felt so I took one step, then another. With Willa in my arms, I marched us across the snow-covered grass toward her house. She didn’t move or look away, not once. She just held on to my shoulders as I took her right to the place where we both wanted to be.

  When I hit her yard, I turned toward her staircase. Only then did she glance over my shoulder to her parents’ house. She gave someone a small smile as I hit the first step.

  I wasn’t sure who was outside, but I didn’t turn to check. I just carried Willa up and into her apartment.

  The moment the door closed behind us, she pressed her mouth onto mine again. She clawed at my back as her legs pulled her center even closer. When it was just the two of us, she shed all of her inhibitions.

  Willa let it all go because she trusted me. She loved me like no other person ever had.

  The realization hit me like a bullet, sending me back two steps. I broke away from her mouth, panting as I took in the flush reddening her cheeks and the lust darkening her eyes.

  “My Willa,” I whispered. “Only mine.”

  “Only yours.” She nodded, then buried her head into my neck. She knew I loved it when she nipped at the line of my jaw.

  I crossed the room, kneeling on her bed. She let me go and sank back, scooting right up to the pillows. Normally, I liked to strip her down, but we were both too frantic.

  While she pulled her sweater up and over her head, I unbuttoned my jeans. Then I yanked at the snaps on my shirt, sending them all free with a fast stream of clicks. Once it was tossed to the floor, I made fast work of the rest. Jeans. T-shirt. Boots. It all went flying as Willa did the same.

  Naked and aching for her skin on mine, I crawled on top of her, using my weight to press her deeper into the bed. Her arms wound around my neck, pulling my lips close. But I wouldn’t kiss her. I backed away just enough so she could see my face.

  “Do you love me?” I asked.

  The light in her eyes danced as she smiled. “What do you think?”

  I smiled back, lining myself up with her slick heat. I pressed in just a little, using all of my willpower not to thrust deep and hard. “Say it again.”

  “I love you.” She arched up, begging for more.

  “Do you love me?” I notched myself in another inch.

  “Yes,” she panted. “I love you.”

  “Again. Say it again.” Maybe if I heard it enough, I’d learn to say it back.

  “I love you, Jackson Page.” She tugged me closer to whisper in my ear. “I love you. It’s always been you.”

  I drove deep, all the way to the root. Willa cried out as I stilled with us joined. It was just her and me. Just us.

  She wouldn’t find another man to make her dreams come true.

  I was her dream and she was mine.

  “I love you, Willa.” The words came easy. “Only you.”

  She lifted up to kiss me and I kissed her right back, wrapping myself tightly around her body. “Move,” she pleaded against my lips.

  I eased out, slowly, because I liked the way she trembled in my arms. Then I slid back in, slowly and deliberately, as her shuddered breaths feathered against my cheek.

  I’d always scoffed when peopl
e said they’d made love. Wasn’t that just a fancy way to say sex? I’d always thought it was a term that women liked to use because it sounded more intimate than fucking.

  Damn, I was a fool.

  As I moved inside of her, in and out with our eyes locked and our bodies entwined, I finally got a clue. I was making love to Willa.

  If she wanted to get married, I’d put on a suit and stand at an altar and say I do. If she wanted babies, I’d make them with her.

  Only her.

  “Love you,” I whispered again as I thrust in and out. She said it right back, holding me tight with her legs around my hips.

  “Jackson,” she moaned, her limbs shaking.

  “Give it to me, babe. Give me everything.” I reached between us, finding her clit. I pressed against it, circling twice, and that was all it took for her to detonate around me. She clenched me so tight with her pulsing inner walls that I lost all control.

  I worked my hips faster, harder, taking away my hand and grinding into her clit with the base of my cock. The pressure built in my spine and my balls tightened. I wanted to hold back and give her another orgasm, but I couldn’t keep my release at bay. With my neck arched back to the ceiling, I roared and came in hot spurts inside of her.

  The room was spinning as I came back down and I collapsed on top of her. I grinned at myself as I breathed in her hair. Sex with Willa was awesome, the best I’d ever had. But making love to her just blew my fucking mind.

  “Oh my goodness,” she panted. “That was . . .”

  I nodded into her hair. “Yeah. Holy fuck.”

  She giggled and I forced my muscles back to life, rolling us over so she was lying on my chest. Her legs were still straddling my thighs, my softening cock still inside her.

  She made a move to get up, but I held her tight. “Not yet.”

  “Okay.” She didn’t fight me. She just collapsed and gave me all her weight until we both regained our breath.

  “Thank you,” I whispered.

  “For what?”

  “For being a fighter.”

  “I’m not.” She kissed my chest. “But I’ll always fight for you.”

  “Why me?” I asked.

  “Because you’re you.”

  I lifted up to see her face. “That’s it?”

  “That’s it.” She nodded with a smile. “What if I asked you the same? Why me?”