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Authors: Lori Wilde

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BOOK: Addicted to Love
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But if she slept with him, really slept with him, all night, in a bed, with full-on sexual contact, did she have a prayer of keeping her heart out of the fray?

There was the rub.

Her fingers itched to pull his shirt over his head and run her fingers across his bare chest. Her mouth — which was already achy from so much kissing — tingled to taste him again. Her ears pricked up, desperate to hear him murmur her name in the throes of the most intimate of embraces.

Anticipation tightened her spine. Sexual hunger narrowed her eyes. Tension curled her toes inside her wading boots. Would these stupid boats ever move along so they could get out of here?

By five o’clock, all the contestants had returned except for her parents’ boat. Because they hadn’t made it back in time, they were disqualified. If Rachael hadn’t been so wrapped up in Brody, she might have wondered where her parents were. She might have spun fantasies about them getting back together. Instead, all she could think about was what Brody looked like naked.

Finally, it was their turn to dock and climb ashore.

Judge Pruitt was in the gazebo, weighing fish and tallying up the scores. Rachael was surprised to discover that not only did Kelvin Wentworth and Giada Vito win the competition, but they were eyeing each other like lovers instead of enemies — an odd turn of events that would have aroused her curiosity if she had not been so preoccupied with Brody.

“Well,” Brody said, walking her to her car as the crowd dispersed into the gathering twilight.

Rachael pulled out her car keys. “Well,” she echoed.

They both laughed, staring at each other as if no one else existed. It was a scary realization. Knowing they both wanted the same thing. Knowing how dangerous this step was.

Lust, lust, lust
, Rachael told herself.
Just lust.

“You wanna grab a bite to eat?” he asked.

She sniffed at her shoulder. “I smell like fish.”

“You could come over to my house,” he invited. “I whip up a mean omelet.”

“Are Maisy and Deana there?”

“Yes. You’ll be safe.”

“What if safety was the farthest thing from my mind?”

He arched an eyebrow and his smile turned wolfish. “How about your place?”

“Mom’s there.” She frowned, wondering where her mother had gotten off to. “Or if she’s not there she could walk in at any moment.”

He leaned in closer, lifted a finger to trace a strand of hair curling against her chin. “We can’t have that.”

Her heart was a caged tiger clawing at the prison of her breastbone.

He stepped toward her until there was barely room between them and lowered his voice. “We could sneak off somewhere. Finish what we started in that fishing boat. Maybe drive over to the state park and rent a cabin for the night, out of sight of the Valentine gossipmongers. We could pick up some groceries along the way.”

Watch it. Slow down. Think things through. Are you sure you really want to take this step?

His body radiated heat. His gaze burned.

Her stomach quivered.

Please don’t let him ruin it by saying something romantic. Please, please, please let this be strictly about sex.

“I want you,” he said, “in my bed.”

“Oh, Brody,” she murmured and sank against him. “I thought you’d never ask.”

A
FTER SHE’D PUSHED
Michael overboard, Selina went to Audie’s hardware store and rented an electric jackhammer from the teenage clerk behind the counter. With most everyone in town out on the lake for the Fish-A-Thon, she didn’t meet with any resistance as she dragged the heavy equipment out onto Main Street and borrowed an electrical outlet from Higgy’s Diner to plug in the thick orange extension cord.

She counted off the concrete sidewalk tiles hand-carved with hearts and flowers and entwined doves. One, two, three, four steps away from Higgy’s front door she found it.

Their square.

Michael Henderson loves Selina Hernandez forever and always, June 21
st
,
1981.

Tears clumped in her throat as she remembered the day he’d carved it for her. It was the same day she’d told him she was pregnant with Rachael. They’d been pouring the new sidewalk down Main Street and everyone who was in love had been rushing to grab the prime spots. He’d bribed Kelvin to guard a section in front of Higgy’s until he could get over there to make his mark.

Selina’s heart clutched as she recalled the way Michael had looked, on his knees, a Phillips-head screwdriver in his hand as he used a heart to dot the ‘i’ in her name. When he’d finished, he’d thrown her a boyish grin over his shoulder, his face flush with the excitement of young love. It made her heart clutch just thinking about it.

They’d both had such high expectations.

What had gone so wrong?

Her insecurities? His wealthy family? The kids? Vivian Cole? All of the above?

Or was it simply that those same high expectations that had initially sustained them, in the end became their downfall? No marriage could live up to the romantic fantasies they’d spun in their heads. Life just didn’t work that way.

A tear trickled down her cheek, but she brutally swiped it away with the back of her hand. The romance was over. The ride at an end. It was time to move on. With this symbolic gesture, she was setting herself free.

Sucking in a deep breath, Selina positioned the jackhammer’s chisel tip at the apex of the heart. Forever and always was such a short time.

Bracing herself for the impact of the vibrating jackhammer, Selina flicked the switch.

Nothing happened.

She flicked it again. Off, on, off, on, off.

Dismay, as sudden as it was overwhelming, washed over her. She’d worked up the courage to eradicate her past and fate was conspiring against her.

She laid down the jackhammer and stalked over to the electrical outlet set into Higgy’s outside wall. Maybe she’d tripped the ground fault breaker. She switched outlets and punched the reset button, then resolutely walked back to take up the jackhammer again.

You chisel this up, you can’t get it back.

That was the point. She needed to do something irrevocable to show her commitment to her new path. To prove to herself she was over Michael.

Ha! You’ll never be over him. You can’t even carve up the sidewalk with his name on it.

The hell she couldn’t. Grimly, Selina grasped hold of the jackhammer and flicked the switch again.

It jumped to life in her hands.

The power of the jackhammer was unexpected. It jerked her around like a rag doll. Her top teeth slammed against her bottom teeth, rattling her head. Her boobs jiggled. Her entire body vibrated. She felt as if she were inside a food processor.

The force was so strong she couldn’t hold it in place.

On the sidewalk, the chisel tip bounced across the surface of the cement, hopping adroitly over the letters she was trying to destroy, doing little more than kicking up dust. Purposefully, she gripped the jackhammer tighter. The tip made a loud
-rat-tat-tat
noise as it bit shallowly into the cement. Yes, yes, it was working. She could do this.

But her triumph was short-lived when she realized the tip had moved so much she was no longer even on the same square. She was chiseling up someone else’s heartfelt declaration of love.

Crap!

She tried to drag the jackhammer back to the right square but her arms felt like they’d been jerked from their sockets. Dirt flew into her mouth and she spat, only to taste a fresh round of grit. Her hair swung, slapped across her face. Her eyes watered. Her ears rang. She trembled from head to toe. Maybe she should have spent a few weeks pumping iron at the gym before tackling this project.

To hell with it.

Selina dropped the jackhammer. It snaked across the ground, vibrating impotently. Angered by her lack of results, she grabbed hold of the extension cord and tugged it out of the wall.

The jackhammer fell silent. Cement dust motes swirled in the suddenly still air, but her ears kept ringing.

She looked up. A small knot of old-timers had appeared in the doorway of Higgy’s Diner. They stared owlishly at her. Nodding curtly, she picked up the jackhammer, ignored her throbbing arms, and dragged the damn thing the four blocks back to the hardware store.

“You gotta clean it if you want your deposit back,” said the kid behind the counter. He had a stainless-steel spike in his chin and a tattoo of a snake trailing up one arm.

“Keep the deposit,” she snarled.

“Dude,” the kid said, raising his arms defensively. “I just work here.”

Selina narrowed her eyes at the teen, who could have stepped right out of a
Beavis and Butt-Head
cartoon. “You ever been in love?”

“No,” he said.

“You’re smart.” She pointed at him. “Stay away from love. Have sex if you want, but stay away from love. And for God’s sake, use a condom. You’re certainly in no position to care for a wife and children.”

The kid looked stunned by her frankness for a fraction of a second, then he snorted a laugh as Selina turned and walked out of the store, feeling hurt and angry and defeated. She couldn’t even do a simple thing like break up a chunk of concrete.

But there was something far more irrevocable than jack-hammering up Main Street that she could do.

Selina went home and climbed the stairs to her bedroom. She plucked the divorce papers off the bureau, sat down at her desk, and signed them. Then she stuck the papers in an envelope, sealed the flap shut, and took it to the post office.

Chapter Sixteen

I
t was pitch dark by the time they arrived at the rustic cabin deep in the heart of the state park. Brody’s pickup truck was laden with supplies for their sexual tryst and Rachael’s body was tense with anticipation. She’d been waiting for this from the moment he’d dragged her down off the billboard.

Brody had called Zeke and told him not to contact him for the remainder of the weekend unless it was for an extreme emergency. Rachael tried to phone her mother to tell her that she wouldn’t be home until Monday morning, but Selina wasn’t picking up, so she’d just left a voice mail. Deep inside she was hoping that her parents had mended fences and at this very moment were together rekindling old sparks. The thought made her happy.

And so did the fact that she was here with Brody.

A comfortable silence had descended over them and they didn’t speak as they unloaded the truck and settled into the cabin. Brody started a fire while Rachael took a shower. Neither of them had wanted to go home for clean clothes or toothbrushes, so when they’d stopped off at Wal-Mart for the food, they’d each bought toiletries, a change of clothes, and a big box of condoms. They didn’t want anything to mar the delicious momentum that had them traveling headlong into wilderness lust.

Lust, Rachael kept reminding herself, was all this was.

Rachael emerged from the shower feeling fresh and clean. She pulled on the sage green long-sleeved cotton top she’d bought and paired it with black Lycra lounge pants and fluffy avocado-colored socks. She brushed her hair until it shone and when she was finally ready, she took a deep breath and slipped into the main room of the cabin.

A crackling fire in the fireplace greeted her along with the aroma of grilling meat.

“Mmm,” she said, coming up behind Brody, who was standing beside the indoor grill, tongs in hand. She slipped her arms around his waist. “He can start a fire and cook, too. What more could a girl ask for?”

“If you don’t know,” he said, reaching out to wrap his arm around her shoulder and draw her closer to his side, “I’ve got a lot to teach you.”

Grinning, she went up on tiptoes to nibble his earlobe.

Immediately, his body tightened. “Woman,” he said, “you’re playing with fire.”

“Nothing wrong with that.”

“There is if you don’t want your steak singed.” He dipped his head and gave her a quick kiss. “Now behave and toss the salad. We have the rest of the night for dessert.”

“Okay,” she said. “I’ll toss the salad and keep an eye on those T-bones while you grab a quick shower.”

“Are you suggesting I stink?” He laughed.

“Hey, if the wading boot fits . . . ” She grinned, feeling lighter-hearted than she’d felt in a very long time.

While Brody showered, Rachael tore romaine lettuce with her fingers and grated fresh Parmesan cheese for Caesar salad. She popped a loaf of French bread into the oven to heat and flipped the steaks over.

A few minutes later, Brody came back into the room toweling his wet hair, wearing pajama bottoms and a University of Texas T-shirt. Her gaze tracked the length of his body. Broad shoulders, flat abs, lean hips. When she reached his feet, her heart clutched.

He was barefooted and her eyes lingered on his artificial leg. Looking at it made her stomach hurt for him and all that he’d suffered. She quickly looked up to see that he’d followed her gaze and a somber expression had darkened his eyes.

“Scary, huh?” he said.

“No, no,” she murmured. “Not scary. Not scary at all. It’s a symbol of your honor and bravery. The leg doesn’t bother me.”

“Don’t feel obligated to patronize me.”

Her heart clutched for everything he’d lost. The skeptical expression on his face was just so darned vulnerable she couldn’t stand it. Anxious to make it clear that his handicap didn’t matter to her in the least, she crossed the room, reached up to wrap her arms around his neck, and pulled his head down for a long, heartfelt kiss.

“Hmm,” he said, when they came up for air. “We better check those steaks.”

“Pull them off the grill. I’ll set the table.”

She set the table and took the bread from the oven. He plated the steaks and opened a bottle of pinot noir. They sat across from each other at the redwood table. The cozy atmosphere, the smell of great food, the company of the ruggedly handsome man stirred romantic feelings and her mind immediately started to spin “what if?” scenarios, but she realized what she was doing and stopped herself before her fantasies spun completely out of control.

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