And wasn’t that just adorable?
“I feel like I’m in a poodle skirt being escorted home after milkshakes at the diner.”
Flynn snorted. “If by milkshakes you mean several vats of Chianti, then yeah, it’s just like that.”
“Don’t judge.” How many bottles were in a vat? Was it possible he wasn’t judging but actually knew in some weird numbers way? Like how some people actually knew the metric system?
Or was it possible she’d had a teensy bit too much wine and shouldn’t be paying any attention to the babble in her brain?
“If you hadn’t carried out the trash for Lily, you’d have no idea how many bottles of wine we went through. We’re all stillvertical, and putting consonants in all the right places in mostly the right words.”
Flynn gave her a fast glance before turning his attention back to the utterly dark road. No streetlights along this stretch.“You’re not vertical. You’re sitting down.”
“But I’m sitting vertically. Straight up. Like your penis.”
Yep. That was a check mark in the column of too much wine.
“Let’s not talk about my penis.” Flipping his hand over, Flynn lifted hers to his mouth and dropped a soft, wet, kiss rightin the center of her palm. It sent tingles . . . everywhere. “Since I have to go right back to work after dropping you at home, it’s pointless to get yourself all worked up and needyfor it.”
“Somebody’s got a big head. Oh, wait. That was my original point.” Then Sierra dissolved into giggles.
He put his elbow on the window frame and curled his hand onto the roof. Boy, that was sexy. James Dean plus Channing Tatumsexy. A bare forearm was apparently all she needed to see of Flynn Maguire to get all lusty. Hot. Squirmy.
Okay, maybe thinking about his penis contributed to her squirminess, too.
“I’m starting to wonder if I should turn this car around and have you spend the night with Lily. Are you okay to be on yourown?”
“Always.” His question sobered her up faster than an entire vat—however big that actually was—of espresso. “I’ve always beenon my own. Alone. I might not have finished my MFA, but I’ve earned a PhD in life skills at being alone.”
“Sierra. Stop.” Flynn’s tone was as harsh as the bed of broken shells just beyond the shoreline. “You’re not alone. Not anymore.Not ever again.”
There he went again, being so sweet that her heart melted faster than a mouthful of cotton candy. And like that cotton candy,his words disappeared just as quickly. They vanished into the air, blown away by the wind streaming in through the open T-tops.Which was a good reminder that it wouldn’t last.
“Don’t make a promise you can’t keep,” she said dully. Because she’d always been alone. Before Bandon. Maybe it was the winegiving her such an emotional flip-flop, but her history proved that any time something good came her way, something bad snatchedit away, sooner or later.
“Sierra, listen—”
“No, Flynn. You listen to me.” Sierra kept her eyes on the dark blur of pine trees out the window. Looking at him would makethis too hard. “There is nothing you can do to guarantee I’ll get to stay here. You can’t promise that trouble won’t come looking for me. If that happens?If the whole town finds out what I did? They’d never look at me the same. Staying or going, I’d still be alone. Even you mightchange your mind about me.”
She’d spiraled, fast and deep, into a super dark place. Sharing even a tiny bit of her story with the girls tonight was supposedto have been freeing. Another chunk of mortar and brick in her foundation here in Bandon. It had absolutely felt that way,as the delicious food filled her up every bit as much as the wine and laughter and hugs.
Then Flynn—albeit unwittingly—had reminded her of her true status in the world. An orphan. Alone. A woman on the run, living a secret life. All the good things about being here were an illusion. A house of cards predicatedon a lie that could fall apart at any second. When she didn’t have anything in her life, it’d been easier. Having things,having people just gave you something to worry about losing.
Sierra was well aware she’d spend the rest of her life lying to those she cared about. And how deep, how real, how lastingcould any relationship be when she couldn’t be truthful about who she was? Where she came from?
And why did it feel like an elephant had just parked his big, hairy behind on her chest? Why was it so darned hard to pullin a full breath?
The car stopped abruptly, tires crunching over gravel onto grass along the side of the road. Then she heard the car door open.It sounded like Flynn jogged around the front of the car. Sierra wasn’t sure because her eyes were squeezed shut as she triedto will her lungs and diaphragm to work normally. What was wrong with her? She was so scared.
That was it.
She was scared.
Her door opened and Sierra felt Flynn grab her ankles, turning her until her feet were hanging out of the car. Then he tuggedher thighs forward so that the bottoms of her sneakers rested on the spongy grass.
“You’re safe, Sierra. Feel the ground underneath you? You’re planted here now. Right here. In Bandon. And in my heart.”
“That’s why I’m so scared,” she managed to gasp out. “Now that I have such a great life with so many people in it, I don’twant to lose them. I don’t want to lose you, Flynn.” Then, to her utter mortification, the tears came. Sierra leaned forward,clutched at the bright yellow logo of the Gorse on his tee, and dropped her head onto his shoulder.
Sierra hadn’t cried before. She hadn’t cried over leaving her potential career behind, not finishing her degree, or even theshocking fear that had spasmed through every muscle in her body as Miriam Newberry tumbled down the stairs. As she’d
