Run to You (17 page)

One of the best things about living in a small town was the local grub. Good food. Great beer. Things like the summer festival to bring people together. He was a lucky SOB to live here. So damn lucky Gram had found him and taken him in when she did.

“You look like you're having deep thoughts,” Gabby whispered in his ear.

He looked at her, her hair pulled back in a messy ponytail with damp curls framing her face and a smear of barbeque sauce on her cheek, and his brain short-circuited. “They're about to become dirty thoughts if you keep looking at me like that.”

She winked.

Goddamn, he had it bad for this girl.

After they ate came the not-so-fun task of packing up everything they'd brought and hauling it out to his Jeep. Once everything was stowed, Mark and Ryan headed out, which meant—finally—he had Gabby all to himself.

Sort of. He still couldn't touch her without half the town seeing, but at least he could walk hand-in-hand with her through the rows of vendors toward the field where the fireworks would take place.

The air was thick with the scent of fried food, sweet with cotton candy and funnel cakes and caramel apples. Children shrieked as they darted between food stands, playing tag.

“I like it here.” Gabby leaned in close.

He took the excuse to slide his arm around her waist. “Yeah?”

“It really is a haven.”

“Sometimes.” This place had definitely saved him once or twice.

Gabby dropped the bag she'd been carrying, and as she bent to grab it, he found himself staring at her ass.
Those shorts.
“Killing me.”

She stood. “What?”

“Your shorts.”

She touched them self-consciously. “Did I sit in something?”

“No, but they are turning me on. Big time.”

“Oh.” She blushed.

He took her hand and led her down the row of food stands and around the corner behind a supply truck. Then he pulled her in and kissed her, hard, while his hands slid to her ass. He cupped her through the thin cotton of her shorts, yanking her up against him. She let out a hungry whimper, her hips pressing into his, and his cock went from halfway aroused to hard as granite just like that.

He kissed her until they were both gasping for breath. Gabby looked up at him, her pink lips swollen from his kisses, her eyes all dazzled and drunk with lust.

“You are so fucking sexy.” And he was so turned on, he could hardly see straight. Reluctantly, he disentangled himself from her. “I can't wait to take you out of these shorts later tonight.”

“I'm looking forward to that part.” She took his hand and led him back toward the bustle of the festival.

“You want ice cream?” he asked as they passed by a booth.

She shook her head, holding up the bag she'd dropped earlier. “I've got fudge.”

He bought them cold bottles of water, and they wandered down to the field on the town commons, now covered with blankets and chairs. She led him to a green blanket off to the left side. The sun was setting through the trees, and more and more people were streaming into the commons in anticipation of the fireworks.

“Did Gram find you?” he asked, remembering she'd been looking for Gabby earlier.

She nodded. “She got me this. Isn't it beautiful?” She lifted her wrist to show him a turquoise bracelet.

“That's pretty.” There'd been a lot of pretty things here today, and he hadn't bought anything for Gabby.
Stupid.

She spun the bracelet so that he could see the symbol on the clasp. “It means hope.”

Hope. From a dying woman. And how was that for ironic?

S
unset lit the field around them in varying shades of gold. Here and there, children ran with sparklers, laughing and shrieking. Cicadas hummed happily from the trees. Gabby scooted closer to Ethan on the blanket. Her knee bumped his.

His thumb brushed over the engraved clasp of her bracelet.
Hope.

She understood the irony. She knew he was hurting. She wanted to help, but short of performing a miracle, what could she do? Was it foolish that she did hope? She hoped for happiness for herself, and for Ethan. If not together, then in whatever directions life took them.

“She's all I've got,” he said finally, his voice gruff.

She took his hands in hers. “What happened to your mom?” It was way past time for her to know, because she was way past pretending he didn't matter to her.

He sat silent for so long, she didn't think he was going to answer. “My dad killed her.”

She gasped, and a sick feeling churned in the pit of her stomach. “Oh, Ethan. How?”

He looked down at his hands. “Domestic abuse.”

Nausea rose in her throat. “Oh…dammit. I'm sorry.” She flung her arms around him, heard the catch in his breathing as he battled his emotions.

He sat like a statue, not hugging her back. “You've been here for months, and no one's told you about me yet?”

“No.” But now that he was talking, she had a vague feeling she might have heard this story during news coverage of the Olympics. She held on to him, her hand on his chest, feeling his heart pounding against his ribs. “What should they have told me?”

“My dad…he was controlling. He convinced my mom to run away with him after she got pregnant with me when she was eighteen. They moved to Atlanta. He cut her off from her family. He was abusive. To her and, when she wasn't around, sometimes with me, too.” He spoke without emotion, yet each word struck her to her core.

Oh, Ethan.
Her heart wept for him.

“When I was ten, she left him. She remembered that her father, my grandfather, had grown up here in Haven, and she thought the town sounded perfect. She rented an apartment and tried to start a new life for us, but my dad did what abusive, controlling men do, and he followed her here. And when he found her, he tried to teach her a lesson. She fell and smashed her skull against the countertop. She died the next day.”

“Was he arrested?”

Ethan nodded. “Died in a prison fight a few years later.”

Gabby couldn't stop the spinning sensation inside her head. She clung to Ethan and whispered. “And you? Were you there when he attacked her?”

“I dialed 911.” His voice was flat, but she felt his pain bunched in his muscles, saw it reflected in the stormy depths of his blue eyes.

Tears streaked her cheeks. “I'm so sorry.”

“I didn't save her.” His voice cracked, and she cried harder. For Ethan. For his mom. For Dixie, who'd lost her daughter and only child.

“You were just a boy.”

“I was old enough to know what would happen when he found us. Old enough to have tried to help her.”

But he'd been just a boy, a terrified boy who'd hidden while his father beat his mother, and now he was a big, strong man who carried a mountain of misplaced guilt on his shoulders. “He'd have hurt you, too, Ethan.”

“Maybe I could have fought back. He fucking deserved for someone to hit him back.” Rage finally boiled over in him, searing through his words, trembling in his muscles.

Gabby remembered how overprotective he'd gotten around Brad. How she'd fussed and called him a caveman. She'd had no idea he'd also been a victim of domestic violence. That he'd lost his mother to it. And now her whole world was out of balance with this new knowledge.

And now it was her turn to come clean. Her arms tightened around him. “There's something I need to tell you.”

“Yeah?”

“You know things were…bad between me and Brad.”

He nodded, his expression grim.

“He was controlling, and selfish, and so angry.” She drew in a halting breath. “And he hit me. That's why I left.”

“Ah, hell.” Ethan inhaled harshly, his nostrils flaring. “I'm so fucking sorry, Gabby.”

“Don't be. I guess we have something in common after all.”

“Fuck,” he muttered, pressing his forehead against hers, anchored to her in the fading light.

This man.
He was so wrong for her yet so completely right. And right now, she never, ever wanted to let him go. They clung to each other, arms and legs entwined. Finally he sat back, nothing but a silhouette in the growing darkness. Hurt and sorrow radiated off him like a shimmering aura.

She touched the bracelet Dixie had given her. “I wish I could make it right for you. No one should have to go through what you and your grandmother have.”

“There's no changing what's done.”

“I wouldn't change anything that led me here to Haven. To you.”

It was almost full dark around them now so, when his lips slammed into hers, it caught her by surprise. She gasped, her hands automatically reaching for him as she kissed him back. His tongue thrust against hers as all the heavy emotion hanging over them ignited into passion, a fiery need inside her that burned and throbbed with each stroke of his tongue.

She slid closer, and his hands gripped her ass, pressing her against his erection. And
oh
, he was so hard. Judging by the low growl in his throat and the way he ground his hips against hers, he was every bit as out of control as she was right now.

If half the town hadn't been sitting in the darkened field around them, she'd have freed him from his pants right then and there. But as he laid her back on the blanket, the sky exploded above them with a boom and a burst of golden sparks.

“Whoa,” she whispered.

Ethan blew out a long breath as he flopped onto the blanket beside her. He was quiet as fireworks lit the night sky above them, his hand in hers, squeezing tightly. It was as if their emotions had been projected into the world around them: loud, fiery, and explosive.

And so very hot.

She lay mesmerized, watching the sky spark and sizzle with reds, blues, greens, purples, and dazzling whites. And when the finale began, as fireworks shot rapid fire into the sky, exploding in a kaleidoscope of color, Ethan took her hand and placed it on the front of his shorts.

He was still rock hard, and an answering tug of need grew within her.

“I need to be inside you,” he whispered. “Right now.”

His voice was taut, strained. And God, she needed him, too. But there was no way this could work. It would take forever for everyone to empty out of the field, and then the inevitable traffic jam in the parking lot. It could be hours before they made it home.

She gripped him through his khakis. “We have a slight privacy problem.”

Even as she spoke, a couple of children ran by with sparklers, giggling as they went. Ethan swore under his breath. He clutched her hand in his, moving it to a more respectable spot on his chest. “Give me a minute, and then we'll go,” he said.

They lay there like that for several long minutes as the crowd around them thinned out. Ethan's chest heaved, his muscles taut beneath her palm. Unable to help herself, she slid her hand down his stomach to the front of his shorts, and yep, he was still hard.

He hissed out a breath. “Not helping the situation.”

“How about now?” She gripped him, feeling empowered by his arousal, by the way he thrust against her when she moved her fingers up and down his length.

“Definitely not.” His voice was nothing but a whisper.

She scooted them to the side and wrapped the blanket around them, hiding her naughty hands from passersby. Behind them, people packed up their stuff and left, illuminated here and there by glow sticks, sparklers, and cell phones.

“Now?” She kept stroking him, thrilled by his needy gasps and the way he surged against her palm. She traced the outline of his head with her fingers, then gripped him and squeezed.

He shoved her hand away, lying still as a statue for a long minute. Finally he rolled toward her with a harsh laugh. “I damn near just came in my pants.”

Her body clenched in response, desire pooling hot and wet between her legs. She was about a millimeter away from her own orgasm, and he hadn't even touched her.

He stood and tugged her to her feet, and then they were grabbing frantically for all their stuff. He grabbed the blanket, and she grabbed her shopping bags—hopefully all of them, but who knew, and who really cared?

Ethan zigzagged through the crowd and out into the parking lot, her hand gripped firmly in his. They didn't speak as they walked, both of them overcome with the urgency of the moment. He bypassed the crowded parking lot filled with people packing up their picnics.

“I'm in the exhibitor lot,” he told her as they walked into another, farther lot. This one was much less crowded. She spotted his red Jeep near the end of a row, right underneath a streetlight. “We'll get your car tomorrow.”

She sat in the passenger seat, watching wordlessly as Ethan put the top on the Jeep. He climbed into the driver's seat, cranked the engine, and drove them to the end of the row. It was dark here. Deserted, with woods on two sides, the mostly empty lot behind them.

He turned the engine back off and looked at her. In his eyes, she saw everything he didn't and couldn't say. His need, his desire for her, the grief, pain, and guilt he'd carried these years for his mom and now for Dixie.

They couldn't change the past, but maybe, just maybe, they could find freedom from it here tonight, if only temporarily. She slid across the console into his lap, letting his erection settle between her legs, and
oh
, she was so close. Based on the shaky breath that escaped his lips, so was he.

He reached down, and the seat slid back, giving them more room.

He rocked her against him with a strangled groan. “I need you so bad.”

“Hurry.” She fumbled with the button on her shorts. Of all days, the one time she hadn't worn a skirt!

“Sweetheart, I don't think I could slow down if I tried.” He unzipped his shorts, then reached for hers. She shimmied, semi-embarrassed about the fact she was now bare-assed to anyone who happened to walk by the car.

She reached over his shoulder to grab the picnic blanket off the backseat, which she draped over herself for privacy. Ethan freed himself from his shorts, rolled on a condom, and lifted her hips to position her over him.

She looked into his eyes as she sank onto him, seeing so much raw emotion reflected back at her. He moved inside her, lifting her hips up and down, and then there was nothing but their frantic movements as they fumbled toward ecstasy. She leaned forward, shifting the angle of their bodies, and
bam
, fireworks exploded inside her, hot and bright as the ones they'd seen earlier.

Ethan groaned. “How is it possible that it just gets better each time?” He looked into her eyes as he came, showing her the depths of his passion, his pleasure, his affection for her.

And
bam
, there went her heart, exploding with all the feelings she wasn't supposed to have for this man. Too late. She'd fallen for him, all right, and she wasn't even sorry.

Sometime in the dark hours of the night, Ethan slid out of Gabby's bed. She lay sleeping, a dreamy smile on her face. He felt a primeval urge to pound his chest and proclaim to the world that he was the one who'd put it there.

Instead he slipped out of her house and drove home. He needed to check on Gram. But also, he needed space. Things with Gabby had gone from hot and heavy to hot, heavy, and
intimate
. He felt exposed to the bone when he was with her, and the funny thing was…it felt so right. Like she fit into an empty place inside him and made him whole.

He drove slowly down Mountain Breeze Road, watchful for deer or other nighttime creatures in the road. His mind was replaying the way Gabby had driven him wild after the fireworks. The look on her face when she'd come apart in his arms right here in the front seat of the Jeep.

The understanding and compassion in her eyes when he'd told her about his past.

It was bullshit, total crazy bullshit, that he felt like turning the Jeep around and driving back to her. Instead, he parked in front of Gram's house and let himself quietly inside. He stood in the guest bedroom until he heard the soft sound of her snores through the paper-thin wall, then he collapsed into bed and slept.

He woke to sunlight streaming through the window and the smell of bacon. His stomach grumbled. And
dammit
. Even though he'd screwed Gabby's brains out last night, he still woke up hard, thinking of her. Morning wood would be so much more fun if he'd spent the night at her place instead of sneaking out in the middle of the night like a coward.

He closed his eyes and concentrated on the sounds of Gram puttering around in the kitchen until the tent in his shorts had eased. Then he rolled to his feet, grabbed clean clothes out of the duffel bag in the corner, and padded down the hall to the bathroom.

He showered and made it to the kitchen table just as Gram was setting out plates of bacon, eggs, and pancakes.

“You got home late last night,” she said with a wink.

Shit. Why did he feel like a teenager caught sneaking in after curfew? “No offense, but I think you just go to bed early.”

“Oh, I definitely do.” She took a big bite of bacon. “But I got up to use the bathroom around one, and you weren't here yet.”

He choked on a mouthful of pancake. “Gabby and I were out late after the fireworks.”

“I'm just teasing, sweetie. You're a grown man. You don't have to come home at all. I'm just so happy for you and Gabby.”

Nothing he could say to that. Instead, he shoveled food into his mouth until his plate was clean. “Thanks for breakfast, Gram. I'll cook tomorrow, okay? Whatever you like.”