"No boundaries," she said just above a whisper.
His heartbeat quickened. "Do you have any idea"--what you're doing to me?--"what you're going to paint?"
"Not yet." She wouldn't look at him as she added in a softer voice, "I'm still trying to decide."
Trent had lived with her long enough to guess that she wasn't just trying to figure out the mural, she was also trying to figure out them. He didn't want to push her so hard that she'd run, but he couldn't hold back the hope that he was reaching her at least a little bit. "Reese, can we talk about us? Please?"
"How can we when this is exactly what we lost?" she asked. She turned to face him, and a lock of hair fell in front of her eyes. "Not just talking to each other, but listening. Really listening."
As he'd done so many times before, Trent reached up and tucked the lock behind her ear. He hadn't forgotten how silky her hair was and how smooth her skin felt, but it stunned him nonetheless.
"You're right. We screwed up. In the worst way possible. But we can try to fix it now."
Her eyes were full of both desire and restraint as she shook her head. "I don't know if we can."
Even though he knew he shouldn't, he couldn't resist stroking his fingertips gently over her cheek. He had missed touching her so much, and she always felt so warm, so good. So right.
"Trent," she whispered, desire taking the lead now as she reached up to touch the back of his hand, and her lips parted. When her tongue swept across her lower lip again, his restraint shattered.
"We did lose track of how to talk to each other, but we sure as hell never lost this."
Trent sealed his lips over hers and slid his hand to the nape of her neck. He kissed her gently at first, testing the waters, half expecting her to push him away. Instead, she gripped the sides of his head and deepened the kiss, sliding her knees between his as she moved closer, the same way she always used to.
She tasted sweet, hot, and so damn familiar it was hard for Trent to think. But he didn't need to think. All he needed was Reese, and he didn't want to stop with just one kiss. Their tongues moved with familiar passion and longing so thick it threatened to pull him over the edge.
But just as quickly as she'd deepened their kiss, now she was pulling away with the same speed. "You kissed me!" She covered her mouth with a trembling hand, her eyes wide with surprise.
Desperate to kiss her again, Trent couldn't stop the truth from pouring out. "Maybe I should be sorry I kissed you, but I'm not. How can I be when you're the only woman I've ever wanted to kiss like that?"
"Trent. I'm not sure...I don't think..." She shifted her knees away, her hand still touching her lips.
He knew how conflicted she was, could hear it loud and clear in the tone of her voice. But the way she'd kissed him, how greedily she'd claimed his mouth and held him so tightly, told him that she wasn't completely over him.
And that gave him hope. More hope than he'd had in ten years. All he wanted was to pull her into his arms and love the conflict in her eyes away, but he knew he should give her time to think.
"You don't need to figure this out tonight, Reese." He put his fingertips beneath her chin and gently tilted her face up to his so that he could look into her eyes. "But I need you to know something."
"What do you need me to know?" Her words were barely above a whisper, almost as if she'd been trying to get herself to keep from asking the question.
"I never broke our promise."
*
OUR PROMISE.
The words they'd spoken to each other a decade ago rang in her ears as if they'd just vowed them. I promise to always love you. Forever. She could see the truth of Trent's confession in his dark eyes and hear it in the tone of his voice. Reese knew each of Trent's tones by heart--serious, professional, playful, loving, sensual--and now they were all rushing back at once. His touch had melted the tenuous wall she'd worked so hard to erect around herself for their meeting.
"I should go." Because if I sit here any longer, I'll kiss you again.
She saw the disappointment in his eyes that she hadn't reacted to his confession, but she was too flustered to even try to respond. She wanted to kiss him and to yell at him all at once. Ten years was a long time, and now they'd just crossed a line that not only made it hard for her to see where the past ended and where the present began, but even harder to process and remember the reasons she shouldn't kiss him.
She rose to her feet and he also stood, automatically placing a hand on her lower back like he'd done so many times before. One tiny movement was all it would take to turn in to his arms, go up on her toes, and kiss him again.
One more delicious kiss.
Just one.
Her knees were already wobbling and her heart was racing when she finally remembered--she couldn't do this. She couldn't just jump into a relationship with Trent the way she had when she was nineteen. She wasn't a girl anymore. She was a woman who needed to know where she stood with her own emotions.
The lure to go further with him was too strong. The desire to allow his strong arms to hold her, to feel his heart beating against hers, to hear his seductive whispers in her ear, was too enticing. She had to get away before she pulled him down by his shirt and ravaged that incredible mouth of his. Again.
Reese picked up her purse and scrambled to gather the papers in her arms as she valiantly fought the urge to give into her desires. She took a step away, torn between running out the door and running into his arms.
"I...Um...Thanks, Trent. I'll--"
He smiled that easy smile that made her pulse quicken. "I'm really glad we're working together on this, Reese."
"Okay," she said too breathlessly as she took a step toward the door.
"Good night."
Oh God, that voice...
A nod was all she could manage, before she hurried from the room and toward the exit. A few moments later, she pushed through the doors and inhaled a lungful of the crisp night air. Then another. And another.
As she drove down the quiet streets toward her cottage, an unfamiliar feeling washed over her. So startling was the sensation filling her chest, so overwhelming, that it took her a few long moments to recognize it as relief. Her entire body felt lighter as it washed over her, through her.
Despite desperately wanting Trent's apology, she wasn't fully ready to hear it yet. But at least she was finally allowing the thoughts and emotions she'd been suppressing for so many years to sail freely through her mind.
And now, for the first time in forever, Reese felt like the heart she'd locked down so tightly during the past decade was finally allowed to feel again.
Chapter Ten
REESE POPPED OUT of bed at five the next morning, feeling better than she had in a very long time. Her mind was spinning with ideas for the mural as she showered and dressed, filled a mug with coffee, and headed down to the resort to scope out her new canvas.
Mornings had always been her favorite part of the day. She loved to watch the sun roll in over the water and listen to the crows as they cawed their messages from high in the pitch pine trees. She pulled her gray cashmere knit cap on and shivered in her thick cream-colored sweater, glad she'd thought to wear her favorite boots to ward off the September-morning chill. She set her messenger bag down on the grass and pulled out her sketch pad, then stood back, assessing the wall of the resort.
She wouldn't paint the entire wall. It was massive, and besides, Reese didn't like boundaries. She often left her paintings free-floating in the center of her canvases, leaving the edges unconfined.
Last night Trent had said that she'd have no boundaries. Had he said it because he remembered that about her? Because he sure remembered how to kiss her.
There were kisses you wished had never happened. There were kisses that left a woman feeling no different from the way she'd felt before she'd experienced the kiss. There were kisses that made a woman's skin go hot and her stomach flutter with anticipation. But Trent's kisses?
Trent's
kisses had always melted Reese's clothes right off, from the first time he'd pressed his lips against hers.
She sank down to the grass, sketching fast and furious as thoughts of Trent crashed over her like violent waves, then rolled back with soothing familiarity. Early on in their relationship, he had been able to take one look at her and know if she was sad, happy, confused, or longing to touch him. He'd lost that ability once they'd moved to New York City, but last night she'd felt him looking at her the way he used to. Really looking, as if he wanted to know everything she was thinking. Everything she was feeling.
Once upon a time, she'd known him that well, too. But she'd deliberately tried not to look that deeply into his eyes last night, had been trying to keep some distance between them. Which was why she hadn't seen the kiss coming, though she'd wanted it so badly she could taste him before their mouths even touched.
Once their lips touched, her mouth remembered the beauty and the magic of kissing Trent, and her heart had been right there with it, wrapping itself around him.
He'd surprised her and confused her with the kiss, but something told her he knew that, too. Just the way he'd noticed everything before they'd moved to New York. One sigh, one smile, one lift of her eyebrows, one crook of her finger toward the bedroom. There was nothing he hadn't noticed. Nothing he wouldn't do for her back then.
Her pencil swirled and skated over the paper, creating dark streaks and contours, mimicking the emotions that coursed through her.
Ten years ago, in the span of a few weeks, he'd made her his world--but then in the span of a few days in New York, he'd replaced their beautiful, sensual, loving world with work. He'd left at the crack of dawn each morning and returned long after she was asleep. Weekends weren't spent holding hands as they walked around the city or snuggled up together by the beautiful fireplace in their apartment the way she'd thought they'd be. Instead, they'd spent their days and their nights on separate planes.
She should have learned her lesson by now, should be able to look back at history and easily keep the walls around her heart thick and strong. But the truth was that last night, while she'd craved Trent's kisses, she'd craved so much more, too.
She'd wanted back into the depths of his heart. Because she'd never met a man who knew how to love so completely.
Only he didn't, did he? Or, if he did know how to love completely, was it simply that he just hadn't chosen to give his entire heart to her the way he'd promised?
The day they'd said their vows, she'd thought they were supposed to become one in a way that would last forever.
But forever had never come.
The sound of footfalls on pavement pulled Reese from her reverie. She squinted against the morning sun as Trent jogged along the sidewalk, closing the short distance between them. His muscles glistened from his run. One look was all it took to send her whole body aflame.
"Good morning, Reese." He set his hands on his thighs and drew in several deep breaths.
Her heart went a little crazy from being this close to him, when she could see so much delicious skin and hard muscle. She didn't dare try to stand after how wobbly her legs had been last night. Instead, she tried to play it cool and remained sitting.
"'Morning."
"I was wondering if you still enjoyed painting early in the day." He glanced at her drawing. "Do you mind if I take a peek?" Before she knew it, he was reaching for her hand and pulling her to her feet. "You look beautiful today."
"I do?" Kiss me.
No, no, no, the rational, protective side of her brain chimed in. Don't do it.
He moved closer. "You do. Even more beautiful than you used to be, Reese."
Why, oh why did he have to make her name sound like an invitation into his bed? Lust snaked through her insides, filling all of her empty places, just as it had when they'd first met.
"You look good, too," she said just above a whisper. Not only did her mouth have a mind of its own, but so did her hand. She couldn't help but reach out to touch him. The feel of his taut abdominal muscles beneath his T-shirt made her brain hiccup...and her entire body explode with heat.
He stepped closer again, and the toe of his sneaker moved between her feet. One hand held hers, and his free hand settled on her hip. "You're everywhere I turn," he said softly. "Even when you're not physically there, I sense you around me."
It was true; she felt it, too. She was falling into him, getting lost in his scent, his words, and those sexy eyes. His deep voice was reeling her in, and there was nothing she wanted more in that moment than to go up on her toes and claim his mouth again.
But after her mental trip down memory lane this morning, she couldn't forget what a huge mistake giving in to those urges with Trent the first time around had been. She couldn't make this mistake again, even if it--he--didn't feel like a mistake.
She forced herself to take a step back, as she had last night. And just like last night, she could see how much he wished she hadn't.
"Reese?" He began to reach for her again, and she clutched her sketch pad to her chest, even though she knew it wasn't nearly a big enough barrier between her heart and the man who still seemed to own it. "Don't you feel it? Just how good we are together? Just how good we could be again?"
"Yes, I feel it. That was never our problem."
He stepped in close again, bringing a wave of heat along with him, but Reese held up her hand to stop him. "No closer." She wasn't dumb enough to let herself touch him again. Not when she knew where even one more small touch would lead...
She thrust the sketch pad toward him to give herself space to think. "Here. You can look at my sketch now."
He took the pad but didn't step back and didn't look down at her drawings, either. "We should go out on a date."
"Trent." She rolled her eyes. Did he really think that would fix everything between them? "That's the same line you used on me ten years ago."
"It worked well then. I figured it might work well now."
"I can't think of one reason we should go out on a date." Besides how much I've always loved you. And maybe those incredible abs. And your arms. I've always loved your arms. And the way you move your--
"I can. We've never talked about things, Reese. About what happened. Why don't we go out on one date and talk? If we both hate it, we'll agree to put the past behind us and move on. But if we don't hate it..." He left that thought hanging between them, potent and way too seductive for her peace of mind.
Reese closed her eyes for a beat, and Trent's masculine scent wrapped around her.
"One date, Reese."
Someone needed to be rational here, so she opened her eyes and said, "Do you remember what our dates always led to?" She tried to suppress the surge of desire that came with the memories, but some things were pretty much impossible.
"How could I ever forget?" He stepped in closer again, bringing them thigh to thigh. "I'll behave myself."
I might not.
"Trent," she whispered, because if she didn't push something from her lungs, she'd give in to the craving to climb him like a dune and kiss that sexy smile right off his lips. Which was a very bad idea. No matter how good she knew it would be.
As if he realized he'd pushed her nearly to her breaking point, he took a step away and finally glanced at the sketch pad. "Reese...you drew this just now?"
For the first time since she'd started the sketch, she really looked at it and nearly had to reach for him to steady herself. The grassy knoll, bordered with wild, overgrown gardens, were only shades of gray on the sketch, but she could imagine vivid blooms of pink, yellow, blue, and white growing at varying heights, reaching for the sun from beneath the burgeoning greenery that was so plentiful around the island. She'd drawn the aged picket fence that lined a path between neighboring cottages and led down to the beach.
Reese ran her finger along the reflection of the lighthouse she'd drawn in the ripples of the water and followed it back to the strip of land forming a path to the lighthouse that seemed
to sit alone in the middle of the bay.
When she lifted her eyes to Trent, she could see that he recognized the area as clearly as she did.
She'd drawn the very spot where they'd exchanged their vows.
It was far easier than she'd thought it would be to remember the good times with Trent and to be drawn in by him. Now that he'd moved back to the island, she knew she couldn't avoid him altogether even if she wanted to. And she wasn't sure she did. In fact, if she relied solely on her body and not her head, she'd definitely say she didn't want to avoid him.
The only way she could keep her hormones under any semblance of control around him was to open up the part of her mind she thought she'd sealed shut years ago, withdrawing one hurtful memory after another.
The way it had felt to wake up in their bed alone every day and going to bed alone too many nights while he was working late.
The overwhelming feeling every time she'd tried to venture out into the city--and the way Trent had been working too hard on growing his career to ever notice her discomfort.
How terrifying and heartbreaking the decision had been to walk out the door for good--and the painful, dark months that had followed.
The divorce papers that had sat on the table by her front door for weeks on end because she couldn't bear to admit the end of their relationship.
When her chest was aching so much she thought she might not be able to function, she lifted her eyes to his. In the space of a second, the hurt lifted its arms and dove out to sea as Trent rolled back in.
"We can't go out on a date."
"What if it isn't a date?" he said quickly. "What if it's just two old friends getting together to catch up? You used to be my best friend, and I've missed you. More than I can say. Please, just give me this one night to talk."
He'd always been a fantastic lawyer, smart but not slick, and with just a few simple sentences, he broke right through her walls. He'd talked about how they were each other's best friend, and she knew some divorced couples managed to be friendly with one another. Then again, those tended to be the couples that had been better friends than lovers anyway. Whereas she and Trent had always been equal portions of both.