We’re breathing hard, and he slides a hand under my ass, turning us without ever losing contact, so I’m sitting in a straddle across his lap.
My dress is around my waist, and moonlight touches the tips of my breasts. We hold each other, skin against skin.
A hot tear spills down my cheek.
I’m not full-on crying. I’ll save the ugly tears for tomorrow when he’s gone. Instead, I find his blue eyes.
Dark brows quirk together, and he kisses my nose. “You’re crying?”
My voice cracks with a whisper. “Aren’t you sad?”
“I’m only going to college, Em. I’m not going to war.”
“But we won’t see each other for months.”
I don’t say what’s truly scaring me. I don’t voice the fear that I, a mere high schooler, couldn’t possibly hold onto him.
He’s traveling far away to where the girls are more mature, more experienced, more sophisticated.
“You’re right,” he nods. “It’s going to suck. Especially when I want to kiss you.”
He pulls me flush against his chest and groans deeply. Strong arms circle my shoulders, and I cling to him.
“But it’s not something to cry about,” he argues. “You’re my girl, Em. That’s never going to change.”
My eyes squeeze shut, and I inhale his scent, doing my best to hold it in my memory, trying to absorb every part of him.
There’s no way in hell I could even begin to argue. I am his, and he’s… my everything. Jackson Cane is every first I’ve ever had. My first real kiss, my first real boyfriend, the first time I had sex… made love…
“Hey.” He pulls back, blue eyes full of concern. “I’m right, aren’t I?”
Blinking quickly, I try to find my bearings. “What?” I don’t know why he looks so worried.
“You are my girl, right?”
My chin jerks forward, and I have to cover my mouth. “You have to ask?”
Warm hands cup my cheeks, and he trails his thumbs lightly along my cheekbones. “So beautiful,” he murmurs. “My Ember Rose.”
His eyes move around my face, along my hair, down the side of my jaw like a caress.
“I’ll never forget this.” I’m ashamed at how desperate my voice sounds. “I mean… I just…” I’m such a baby.
He blinks a few times, and a smile curls his lips. With a nod, he pulls me against his chest, strong arms surrounding me. We stay that way a long time, listening to the crashing of the surf, the beat of our hearts. The seagulls cry, and the moon climbs higher. It’s all so perfect, but it’s all at an end.
Finally, with a sigh, he lifts me, helping me stand. We hold hands as he takes me into the gentle waves to clean up. I slowly restore my dress.
I feel so stupid. College girls don’t need to be cared for like babies. They don’t whine and cry about being left behind. They blow kisses and wink over their sunglasses. They sway their hips and turn the tables on saying goodbye.
My best friend Tabby is already one of those girls, and she’s my age.
I’ll never be one of those girls.
“Don’t cry, Ember Rose,” he says in a low whisper. “I never want to see you cry.”
I hold him a while longer, listening to the steady rhythm of his heart. His hands slide up and down my back in a soothing motion.
After a while, they slide down my forearms to lace with my fingers. He steps back and leads me the way we came, stopping at the edge of the woods where I left my bike.
“Get on home before your momma wakes up.”
That sexy smile curls his lips. He shoves his hair behind his ears, and I step forward again, clutching the front of his shirt before I press my lips one last time to his.
Red-hot cinnamon.
Sparkling blue sin.
Salt rocks breaking my heart.
Chapter 1
Jack
Ten years and eleven months later…
“Last one in has to ride home naked!” Tiffany hurls her silky red dress over her head and runs through the trees headed for the lake.
The wheels on my black Audi R8 have barely stopped moving. I haven’t even killed the engine. An empty wine bottle clatters against an empty tequila bottle rolling around on the floorboards, and I briefly think I should toss them in a nearby trashcan.
Propping my elbow on the steering wheel, I scrub the back of my neck with my fingers. My hair is so short now, it’s the best I can do.
I haven’t had a drink in almost an hour. I’d finished a bottle of scotch in my office, standing in front of my floor to ceiling glass windows looking down on the city, disbelief vibrating in my chest.
My career…
My reputation…
It’s over.
All of it.
File after file, telling me my win, my multi-million dollar defense… all of it is based on lies.
“Fuck!” I shout, slamming my palm against the wheel.
The buzzing in my head is gone along with the numbness in my chest, and all the shock and pain and pure, unadulterated outrage rush back like a wall of water before a hurricane.
A hurricane that will send everything I’ve worked for these last ten years crashing down around me.
Pulling the handle on the door, I push it open and step out into the darkness. The ground is covered in moldering leaves, and it smells like faintly mildewed canvas, damp lichens, and dirt.
“Jackson! What are you doing?” Tiffany shrieks between splashes out in the black water of the lake.
Exactly. “What the fuck am I doing here?”
My chest is tight, and each inhale is like claws ripping my lungs from the inside.
It took an hour to drive from my Eighth Avenue high-rise corner office building to this lonely, two-lane highway leading to the lake. Somewhere along the way, I realized I didn’t know what the fuck Tiffany was talking about or why she was even in my car. She followed me down the elevator, into the parking garage, laughing and pouring another shot of tequila on the way.
I’ve got the fucking receptionist with me.
I need to get her back to the city.
Digging in the pocket of my blazer, I pull out my phone and stare at the face. My lock screen is a photo of crystal blue waters, and for a moment, my thoughts blur. I left my home near the ocean with big dreams.
Half of them came true.
I finished undergrad at the top of my class, went to law school on a free-ride, headed straight into a Top Five firm when I graduated, and now I’m one of the highest-paid litigators handling mostly corporate corruption with the occasional car crash thrown in for variety.
My face is in every “Top Thirty under Thirty” feature in the city and online. My phone never stops ringing.
My fucking dad is so fucking proud.
I’ve done it all.
And I’m all alone.
“I’ve got to get out of here.” Dropping my chin, I rub my eyes.
The shush of feet running through the leaves is punctuated with high giggles breaking the silence. My eyes have adjusted to the semi-darkness, and I see Tiffany coming back, completely naked, blonde hair glistening with water, tits bouncing with every step.
“What are you doing back here?” Her voice is thick, and she curves into my chest, holding my neck and trying to kiss me.