Page 227 of One Wild Wish

My body sure as hell knew. “I’m so wet. You make me so wet.”

“Jesus, Gwen.” His mouth was on my neck, licking and sucking. “I’ll never get enough of you.”

Not in two days he wouldn’t. But I might lose my heart.

That sobering notion had me abruptly ending our PDA. I heard a whistle, but wasn’t sure it was directed at us, not that I cared. What I did care about was not falling to pieces over this man, who had to get on an airplane in one and a half days.

I needed to feel him inside me again. I wouldn’t deny myself that. But my feelings for him were already ten-foot swells, ready to drag me under. I had to keep an emotional distance, not do stupid things like wish I wasn’t on the pill.

Following the journal’s clues was the perfect distraction. The breather I needed. Which meant facing Finch. “You still okay to come in the club with me?”

“I’m not leaving your side until I get on that plane.”

He wasn’t making my emotional armor easy to wear. “Even when I have to pee?”

“You’ve peed next to me before.”

I had. Our tenth-grade graduation had been a raucous affair. Someone had organized a field party, and I’d drunk my weight in peach schnapps. August had stood sentry while I’d squatted in the grass. He’d later held my hair back while I’d puked. The best friend a girl could have.

“Okay,” I said, tugging him toward the club.

He tugged me back. His hooded eyes drank me in, dropping to my neck. His pupils flared. “I gave you a hickey.”

I touched my feverish skin and laughed. “Are we sixteen?”

“It means you’re mine,” he replied, his voice thick.

My voice got stuck. I couldn’t be his. Not with his itinerary. Being his meant losing myself, and the last time that happened, after my WTF, I’d tripped so far down a rabbit hole, I’d gotten lost in the bramble. “When we’re inside,” I said, deflecting, “holler if you need to leave.”

He considered me a moment, stared so intently I looked away. “I’ll use our safe word,” he said.

Nothing about my feelings for him felt safe.

* * *

August

I led the way to the club, still high from kissing Gwen. From touching Gwen. From marking Gwen’s skin. Unfortunately, the way she’d disconnected her lips from mine and her subject change just now hinted at her worry. She was holding herself back, keeping a piece of her heart protected. I’d quit trying to guard mine. She was everything to me, the center of my best childhood memories, the reason I wrote music. She had all of me, and I’d have all of her before my plane took off. As long as this search for her father didn’t backfire.

And Finch didn’t ruin things again.

A bouncer was at the club door. He had a neck thicker than a tree trunk, bald head, tattooed neck. His black suit was definitely purchased at a big and tall shop. He saluted me, as though we knew each other. “You shaved, Mr. Cruz.”

I kept Gwen’s hand firmly in mine and offered him a tight smile. “Wrong Mr. Cruz. I came to see my brother.” No point avoiding that particular elephant.

He grinned, displaying two gold teeth. “Oh…right. Sure. Go on in. Hope to catch you on stage later.”

I’d wanted to play the Blue-Eyed Raven stage for years. It drew mid-sized bands these days, and bigger acts wanting an intimate setting. The sound system was killer, the audience filled with music devotees. Finch had managed the venue the past five years, bringing it back to life after it had dropped off the radar. He’d never asked me to play. I’d never offered. Our ongoing stalemate.

I led Gwen to the semi-circular bar cradling the patron-filled tables, most enjoying some sort of dessert. Between sets, likely.

She pressed closer to my side. “It’s sexy in here.”

“You’re sexy.”

Even in the sultry lighting, her eyes sparkled. “Trouble,” she mumbled.

She scanned the instrument-filled stage—piano, bass, a couple horns, and one hot-as-hell Fender. The walls and ceilings had been remodeled, the moldings giving the room an art deco vibe. Blues tunes drifted from speakers. Servers wore twenties-inspired dresses and suits. Yeah, I’d always wanted to play this club, and it would probably never happen.