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  Hell, he couldn’t really have her now.

  But the way she responded to him...he couldn’t let her go, either. Not tonight.

  She made a sound deep in her throat, a strangled cry mixed with a whimper. The echo of it shot straight to his cock, as her fingers clenched in his shirt, wrinkling the fabric. But he didn’t give a shit. Because she wasn’t pushing him away, she was tugging him closer.

  Her head fell back, offering her mouth, opening to give him more.

  He couldn’t remember how it happened, but one minute they were sitting next to each other, the next Van was stretched out on the floor, the length of his body pressed tight against hers.

  His hands trembled as they raced over her curves. He tried to memorize every sound, every reaction, before something could take them away again.

  He wasn’t built for nice. Didn’t deserve beautiful. And Van was both of those things.

  She arched into his touch anyway, silently begging for more.

  Her pale green eyes flashed, tempting him as she watched his every move.

  He shouldn’t be doing this. Wanting her was wrong before, and it was wrong now. Even more so, because the whiskey was clouding her judgment. And his for that matter.

  He tried to pull away, to put some distance between them, but Van’s grip wouldn’t let go.

  “Don’t,” she whispered, the word low and fierce.

  “Don’t what?”

  “Don’t you dare stop, Ty Colson.”

  Tangling their fingers together, she closed his fist around the hem of her dress and tugged upward.

  He could fight himself, maybe. But he couldn’t fight her. He’d never been able to deny Van anything.

  If she wanted this—needed him tonight—then he’d give it to her. And deal with the inevitable fallout later.

  Ty dragged her dress up her creamy thighs, over her hips and then off over her head. Her bra matched the black lace panties he’d glimpsed earlier. Of course they did. Everything about Savannah Cantrell was sophisticated and put-together.

  “God, Van, do you have any idea how gorgeous you are? The men in this town must be complete idiots.”

  She laughed, a brief burst that was gone before it was really there. “I’m too busy for the men in this town.”

  Ty shook his head. “That wouldn’t stop me, if I was around.”

  Reaching down, Ty flicked open the front clasp of her bra, letting her generous breasts spill out. He didn’t wait, leaning in to suck one deep into his mouth. She whimpered, arching into his caress. Her fingers scraped against his scalp, grasping his hair, holding him right where she wanted.

  He liked that about Van. When she wanted something, she didn’t hesitate to take it.

  But he was used to being the alpha in any pack. Ringing her wrists with his fingers, he pulled her hands away, then wrapped them around the handle on the storage bin behind her head.

  “Hold on, princess.”

  If this was the only time he was going to have Van Cantrell, he was going to make it memorable...for them both.

  He spent the next twenty minutes torturing her, not to mention himself. His mouth and hands touched every inch of her body. Her skin was so soft and smooth, fragrant with the understated scent of her perfume and the heady fragrance of her arousal.

  When he finally slipped down between her open thighs her skin was flushed and her hips writhed. Her sex glistened with need. And he was hungry to oblige.

  He nibbled and teased, swirling his tongue close to her entrance before slipping up to lightly brush across her clit.

  “Please, Ty. Please,” Van nearly sobbed. He relished in knowing he could make her beg. Make her forget.

  His tongue speared deep inside as his finger found the tight knot of her clit. It barely took anything for her to shoot off.

  She clenched around him. Her thighs clamped against his ears. He expected a scream, but her mouth opened on a silent cry as her eyes screwed tight. Her entire body shook with the force of her orgasm.

  Satisfaction filled him, even as his dick throbbed painfully behind his zipper. God, he’d never been so turned on in his life.

  Reaching into the pocket of his pants, Ty pulled out his wallet and the condom he always had stashed there. It’d been in there for months; he seriously hoped the thing was still good.

  Dropping his pants to the floor, he ripped open the packet and rolled on the condom.

  Standing above her, he looked down at Van, legs spread wide on the floor at his feet. Her body seemed boneless. He’d done that to her.

  She watched him with half-lidded eyes, her gaze eating him up in a way that made him want to give her a repeat performance. But he knew he couldn’t survive another round, not right now, not without losing his mind.

  Dropping to his knees, he reached for her, positioning the tip of his cock at her hot, wet entrance.

  He waited for her to change her mind, or tell him to fuck off, but she didn’t. Instead, she reached for him. Her hands cupped his ass and pulled him closer, her hips bucking and eager.

  She opened her thighs wider, silently inviting him to take whatever he wanted.

  God, he wanted it all. Not just now. He wanted anything he could get forever. Pain lanced through his chest, but Ty beat it back. He knew there was nothing more than tonight.

  Hell, this could very well be the last time he ever saw her.

  That thought sent him into a frenzy. The need to leave his mark on her in some way was so overwhelming he couldn’t logic it away.

  His hips slammed against hers, claiming her in one quick, deep thrust.

  Van gasped, her lips parting as her head tipped back. Her fingers dug into his ass, urging him to give her more.

  “God, you feel so good, Van. Unbelievable.” Ty dropped his forehead against hers. His lips brushed across her temple. Hers found his throat. She kissed him, the soft touch blending into something more when her teeth nipped at his skin.

  She sucked, drawing his pounding pulse into her mouth. She was going to leave a mark of her own, but Ty didn’t give a damn.

  His hips pistoned against hers in deep, smooth strokes that made the world gray around them. The only thing that felt real was him and her. Together. Finally.

  Her labored breaths puffed against his skin, and her mouth found him, licking and leaving rows of tiny teeth marks across his shoulders, throat and collarbone. Each tug sent a jolt straight to his cock.

  She was right there with him, meeting him stroke for stroke. He could feel the walls of her sex tightening around him, so close. Ty held on, delaying his own release, which threatened to blind him.

  Van whispered mindless, garbled words, but his body recognized exactly what she was asking for.

  Reaching between them, Ty found her clit and thrust deep, filling her as he stroked the swollen bundle of nerves.

  Her body exploded. This time his name echoed off the wooden walls around them. A surge of satisfaction pounded through him as she clamped down around him. It was more than he could take.

  Burying his face in her throat, Ty allowed his release, holding tight to her as a storm raged through him. He thrust hard, drawing out the pleasure as long as he could, selfishly savoring every last drop.

  Collapsing to the floor, Ty didn’t notice they were lying on plywood covered with a blanket. He didn’t care that he could hear the faint sounds of people leaving the house, car engines firing.

  The only thing that mattered was Van in his arms. He tangled their legs together, tucked her head against his chest and grabbed the other blanket, wrapping it around them.

  She didn’t protest. Instead, she curled into him, letting her body melt against his.

  Happiness and pain mixed together in his chest. The story of his life. Nothing good ever happened without bein
g accompanied by a kick in the gut.

  Van was silent, but not distant. She didn’t pull away. Tonight, he’d take small favors wherever he could get them.

  His hand stroked the soft fall of her hair, tangling in the strands as they slipped between his fingers.

  “I should probably go back inside, be there to say goodbye to everyone.”

  He could tell by her tone that she didn’t really want to. And he didn’t blame her. All day he’d wanted nothing more than to run away from this place...at least, until an hour ago.

  “Why bother?”

  “Because my parents need me there. Because it’s what I should do.”

  “Says who?”

  “Every etiquette manual in existence.”

  “No one would blame you for disappearing. No one will fault you for needing an escape.”

  “But I shouldn’t. It wouldn’t be right.”

  Ty shifted, tipping her head back so he could look into her eyes. “No one expects you to do the right thing all the time.”

  “I expect it.”

  He shook his head. “You’ve always put too much pressure on yourself. Just once, let yourself do something unexpected.”

  Her mouth quirked up on one side, not quite a smile. “Pretty sure that’s what we just did.”

  Her gaze slipped away from his, focusing on something over his shoulder. He wanted to draw her back. Every instinct inside him yelled that if he wanted anything further this was the moment to push.

  But he couldn’t.

  As much as it hurt, Ty knew exactly what tonight had been. It wasn’t like he didn’t have plenty of experience carrying around pain, hiding it so no one else could see.

  Shifting to get more comfortable, Ty tightened his hold on her. “Go to sleep. In the morning you can blame me for your disappearance. Everyone will believe I was drunk off my ass—” like mother, like son “—and you had to pour me into bed.”

  Her body stiffened, but after a few seconds she relaxed, a sigh slipping through her parted lips.

  It didn’t take five minutes for her breathing to even out and her body to go limp against his. The floor felt hard against his back, but it wasn’t the first time he’d slept on something uncomfortable.

  Ty’s arms tightened around Van. He tipped his head back, found the sky through the window in the wall beside them and squeezed his eyes shut.

  Just one more thing you’re going to have to forgive me for, buddy. But, I’m going to be honest—I don’t regret a damn moment.

  * * *

  SAVANNAH GROANED. Her entire body hurt. Her brain felt fuzzy and slow. God, would she never learn that sleeping on the tiny cots in the hospital’s on-call room was a bad idea?

  Shifting, her hand grazed something cold and plastic. A groan rolled through her chest as memory slammed home. She wasn’t at the hospital. This pain was all self-inflicted. Though it was fuzzy, she could remember knocking back whiskey from a bottle she’d swiped from Ty.

  Van’s eyes popped open.

  Ty.

  Oh, shit.

  Van rolled onto her side and pushed against the hard plywood floor. Her stomach bubbled unhappily. The walls around her wavered.

  But a creaking sound filtered through her misery.

  For the first time, she realized she was alone. And she hadn’t fallen asleep that way.

  The sky was mostly gray through the large window, with fingers of pink and orange just starting to streak across. Van crawled over and used the ledge to lever herself up—just in time to see Ty, his shirt hanging from the pocket of his slacks, shoes dangling from his fingers, sneaking across her parents’ lawn toward the back gate.

  She should be grateful he was walking away so she wouldn’t have to face him.

  But she wasn’t.

  Hurt, anger and indignation slammed through her, causing her sick stomach to roil even more.

  God, she would never drink again.

  Part of her wanted to go after him. To yell at him, for leaving, for making her feel amazing last night, for dragging her brother into a situation that had ended up killing him. For letting her get drunk and then taking advantage of her.

  She wanted to blame Ty Colson for every single thing that was wrong with her life.

  But she couldn’t.

  Last night, she might have been drunk and reckless, but Ty hadn’t pushed. He hadn’t done anything she didn’t want. As much as she wanted to paint the man as an asshole, she knew him well enough to realize that if she’d said no at any point, he would have stopped.

  Instead, she’d begged him for more.

  Oh, God. Van sank back down onto her haunches and dropped her head between her knees. Sucking huge gulps of air through her nose, she willed her stomach to settle.

  She would not throw up. She would not throw up.

  This was better.

  Ty had given her something last night that she’d desperately needed. Solace, laughter, release. A chance to forget, even if only for a few moments.

  The fact that she’d never felt so whole and connected with anyone else was something she’d simply have to deal with. And get over.

  On the bright side, she could mark one-night stand off her bucket list. And with the boy she’d had a teenage crush on. Oh, look, a twofer.

  In the quiet silence, she could hear the engine on Ty’s rental turn over. The sound of his tires crunching across pavement, picking up speed as he fled from her neighborhood. From her life.

  It hurt. Not that she’d necessarily wanted to wake up with his strong arms cradling her close. That would have been infinitely more awkward than sitting there alone in her misery and embarrassment.

  This way, she didn’t have to confront what she’d actually done. It was a little late in life for her to be adding stupid experiences to her resume, but maybe better late than never.

  Besides, with Ryan gone, she’d likely never see Ty Colson again.

  And that was the way she wanted it.

  Really, it was.

  2

  Four months later

  TY STARED AT the perfect house in front of him. Exactly the kind of place he’d expect Van Cantrell to own.

  The street was quiet, a subdued neighborhood full of older homes. The kind with gentle laughter, sunny yellow walls and a kitchen with a mom making waffles and chocolate chip cookies.

  The kind of home he’d never had.

  The kind of life he’d never realized was possible until he’d met Ryan in the second grade. And learned that sporting bruises and going to bed with a rumbling belly weren’t normal.

  The neighborhood seemed sluggish. Ty missed the normal weekday rush of people leaving for work. The kids who would likely be running up and down the cracked sidewalks in a few hours were still snuggled under their sheets, dreaming of lazy summer mornings and the remaining weeks with no homework.

  Two weatherworn rocking chairs sat on the wraparound front porch, swaying in the hot Texas breeze. Just waiting for someone with a steaming mug of coffee to curl up against the wooden slats and enjoy what little respite the morning offered before summer’s oppressive heat seeped in.

  A memory burst through, one he’d been pushing back for months.

  Van, sitting in that exact spot, her feet pulled up underneath her. Body slumped, shoulders rounded with grief. A beautiful, golden sunrise gilding her exhausted, tear-stained face.

  He’d sat there in a different car, on a different day, and been a voyeur to her pain. He’d wanted to comfort her then. But he’d fought the urge to go to her, wrap her in his arms and wipe each of her tears away.

  Because he’d known it was better that way. For both of them. After the night they’d shared together in that tree house...

  In that moment, being close to he
r and seeing the anger and accusation in her eyes again would have destroyed him.

  Now silence settled over him, harsh and heavy, pressing tight against his chest. He should get out of the SUV he’d rented at the San Antonio airport—get this over with—but he couldn’t seem to make his body move.

  This was the moment he’d been dreading for the last several weeks. But it was as inevitable as it was filled with regret, and guilt, and a grief so bone-deep he couldn’t begin to exorcise it.

  The only way he’d gotten through that last trip home was by numbing himself with whiskey...and Van.

  Ty’s stomach churned and his hands, still wrapped around the leather-covered steering wheel, went white with tension. Sweat that had nothing to do with the heat trickled down the back of his neck.

  God, he didn’t want to walk inside. Didn’t want to look into her gorgeous, pain-filled eyes.

  There was no way to fix what was broken—for either of them.

  But that didn’t stop him from wishing he could roll back time and change everything. He’d give anything—absolutely anything—to bring Ryan back.

  A soft whimper sounded from the backseat and a cold, wet nose nudged against his shoulder. Ty pulled a sudden gulp of air into his lungs, grateful for the jolt, which prevented him from spiraling into a familiar mental tailspin.

  The last thing he needed was for Van to find him stalling in her driveway. She knew he was coming this morning. Hell, he hadn’t even bothered to check into his hotel first. Better to get this over with.

  Carefully unwrapping his fingers from the wheel, Ty reached back and scratched behind Kaia’s ears. She let out another sound, only this time it was full of pleasure. Leaning her head against Ty’s shoulder, she angled her body for a deeper rub.

  “I know, girl,” he whispered. “You’re almost home. It’s almost over.”

  At least he could make things better for her. Kaia had been through as much trauma and grief as he had. As Savannah had.

  He was really hoping that Kaia’s presence would give Van some small measure of comfort. He knew the dog desperately needed some love and affection. He’d fought for months to bring her home because he knew it was what Ryan would have wanted.