But I leaned into him, into that kiss, and the ghost that was River Jensen.
His arms were sturdy where they held me, and as our lips melded together, it was as if there was no other place in the world we could possibly be. It was a kiss we’d shared a hundred times before. It was a kiss I’d never experienced, never even dreamed of, not until the moment his lips were on mine. It was years of love and passion. It was years of heartache and pain. It was everything I hated, everything I desired, everything I’d forgotten and everything I would always remember, too.
This is my husband, my heart screamed. This is the love of my life.
This is a stranger, my brain combatted. This is the man who let you go.
River swept his tongue over mine, sending a bolt of electricity ripping through me, shooting straight to my core. And in the next breath, I pressed my hands into his chest, shoving him away.
I’d already turned my back when River groaned at the loss, covering my mouth with both hands. I shook my head, eyes welling with tears, emotion swimming with the alcohol in my bloodstream, making for a dangerous current I knew had the power to sweep me under.
“Why,” I asked softly, almost so soft I wondered if he’d heard me at all. I turned to face him again, slowly, timidly, the glow of him blurred through my tears. “Why would you do that? Hold me like that, kiss me like that…” I sniffed. “But you just let me go. When I stood in front of you just like this and asked you what you wanted, what you needed. When I asked you to come with me, but you wouldn’t.” I shook my head, desperation aching through me. “Why, River?”
“Eliza…”
“Just tell me why.”
He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing hard in his throat as he looked into the fire. Tears glossed his own eyes, and when he found my gaze again, I swore the way he looked at me would break whatever part of me was still holding on.
“I knew Dad was dying,” he said gruffly. “He told me.”
My bottom lip trembled. “What? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I was going to,” he said. “Of course, I was going to. You were my best friend, Eliza. But I came home, and there you were, sitting at our dining table with all these plans laid out.”
He shook his head, and realization washed over me like an icy flood.
It was the night I told him I wanted to leave.
Or rather, I wanted us to leave.
I’d spent my day off clipping photos out of travel magazines, making vision boards, planning routes and researching what we could do to earn money in each place I wanted to visit around the world. I had a plan, a way to make it work, a way for us to see the world and make enough to live on, too.
And when he walked through the door that night, it was all I could do to wait until he’d taken his coat off to tell him all of it.
“When I saw it all, and listened to you talking about getting away, about how this town was suffocating you, how you felt stuck…” He grimaced. “Eliza, I couldn’t tell you. Not then.”
“But you should have,” I argued. “I… I could have stayed. I would have stayed.”
“And that’s exactly the problem!” River held his hands out toward me before letting them fall. “Don’t you see? My dad was already dying. And if you would have stayed, you would have died, too. This town was killing you. I was killing you — your spirit, your dreams, your love and vivaciousness for life. I was holding you back from where you wanted to be… from who you wanted to be.”
I shook my head, over and over, the tears falling harder now. “You should have told me. You should have given me a choice. You… you didn’t fight for me,” I said through my tears. “You just let me go.”
“And I regret that mistake,” he said firmly, his feet carrying him toward me. I wanted to move. God, how I wanted to back away, but I was rooted in place. “I have every minute since the one where I lost you. But I loved you, Eliza,” River croaked when he was just inches from me. “I loved you. So I let you go.” His hands reached out, framing my face, his eyes searching mine as he shook his head like every word was the most horrible truth. “And damn it if I don’t love you still.”
The next sob that broke through my chest was cut off when his mouth met mine again, this time warm and comforting and gentle, yet sure. His hands held my face, fingers curling in my hair, thumbs brushing my temples. I leaned into that touch, into that kiss, into that man with everything that I was, with everything I ever had be.
And in that moment, I was home.
It was a dizzy blur, the steps we took through the cabin to where the bed lay hidden in the shadows in the corner. The candlelight was dimmer here, the whole world seeming to turn its lights down to hum a distant shhh, giving us privacy and peace.
River only broke our kiss long enough to strip my sweater overhead, my hair tumbling out of the neck hole in a waterfall down my back. Chills raced from the cool air, from the feel of his hands on me, wrapping around my rib cage in a gentle squeeze before he moved for my sports bra next. He pulled it up and over my head, too, letting it fall to the floor.
His shirt came next, and then his briefs, his sweatpants, until he was fully naked and trembling in my grasp as he backed me up to the bed.
My back hit the quilt, the fabric cold against my hot skin, but that sensation was dull compared to the way my heart raced at the sight of River standing over me. He towered like a god, peeling my sweatpants off my hips, off one leg and then the other. His eyes didn’t leave mine as he did the same with my thong, and only when I was nude did he let his gaze rake over me.
I felt those eyes like big, calloused hands, working their way over my breasts, my navel, my thighs, and the little gap between them where I was already wet and throbbing for him. River’s throat was so tight I heard his next swallow, and a gentle shake of his head was all I got before he was climbing on top of me, maneuvering me up until my head was on the pillow and he was between my legs.
We both shuddered at the rush of heat from our bodies being together again, and River swept my hair from my face, kissing my jaw, my neck, my collarbone and back up until his mouth claimed mine.
There was no time to think, no time to second guess or let logic sneak its way in before River was balancing all his weight on one elbow, his other hand reaching down to hook my leg up his thigh. He pressed more weight into his knees, the tip of him sliding against my wet, warm entrance in a skating glide that had us both hissing with need.
I knew the feel of him, even after all these years. I knew the shape of his crown, the lean of his shaft, the exact lining of the vein that rippled up from his base. I knew how he would fill me even before he did, but when the flex of his hips brought us together, when he slipped inside me for the first time in four trips around the sun, I gasped, holding onto that breath like it was my last.
It was a searing fire, the way he stretched me, and yet it filled me with a current of pleasure all the same. I whimpered into his mouth and he caught that cry with a growl, with a demanding kiss, with a slight withdrawal before he rocked into me again, deeper.
My other leg lifted, ankles hooking behind him, hips bucking up to give him better access. I thought I felt those lips of his curl into a smile against mine before he slid into me again, harder this time, deeper still, and he picked up the pace, finding a rhythm.