You Were Mine
Page 30

“He would have wanted her happy. And he would have beaten my ass for treating her the way I did. I doubt he would’ve forgiven me for what I said to her that night on the beach.” His voice sounded pained.
I hadn’t been there, but I knew from the silent treatment he’d given her for more than a year after Jace’s death that he’d blamed her. He was right—Jace wouldn’t have been able to forgive him for that. He’d loved Bethy. But that wasn’t what Woods needed to hear right now. This was supposed to be one of the happiest days of his life.
“He may have been my cousin, but you were like his brother. He loved you,” I told him.
“I let him down,” Woods said.
“No, you didn’t. You saved her. That’s what he asked you to do, and you did it.”
Woods finally moved his gaze back to mine. I could see the emotion I understood so well. Jace had left an empty place in all of us.
“He died knowing that his best friend made a sacrifice for him that would mark him for the rest of his life. You were his hero.”
Woods studied me for a moment and then turned his attention back to the water.
After a few moments of silence, I stepped around him and made my way toward the huts once again.
“Thanks,” Woods called out. I glanced back at him. “I needed to hear that. Especially today.”
I managed a smile. “That’s what a best man is for,” I replied, and left him there with his thoughts.
Bethy
Tripp trailed soft kisses up and down my body while he held himself rigid above me. The pain from his entrance had taken my breath away, but he had stopped the second I cried out. He hadn’t pulled out, which was all I wanted him to do, so I could curl up in a ball and whimper.
But then he’d started kissing me gently and whispering in my ear.
“It’s OK. I won’t move. Just let me feel you. God, Bethy, nothing has ever felt like this.”
Hearing the pleasure in his voice as he kissed me, as if he couldn’t get enough of me, eased the tension. Slowly, he sank deeper, until he let out a loud groan and closed his eyes. He was beautiful, and I was completely fascinated.
“I’m going to move,” he said against my ear, and then he sucked in a sharp breath as he pulled back until he was almost out of me and then rocked his hips back.
The movement hadn’t caused me pain this time, at least not the searing kind it had the first time. Just a little discomfort. Watching Tripp made everything else fade away. The veins in his neck were standing out, and the muscles in his arms were bulging as he held himself up so that he didn’t put all his weight on me.
With each move of his hips, it got easier, and Tripp’s face became more breathtaking. His mouth opened slightly, and his pupils were so dilated the green was almost gone.
Our gazes locked.
“I love you. I won’t leave you. I can’t.”
My eyes opened, and I stared at the ceiling. I hadn’t dreamed about that night in a very long time. My heart was racing, as if I was still there underneath him, losing my virginity to the boy I loved and hearing him proclaim his love for me for the first time. He’d made a lot of promises that night that he didn’t keep.
I sat up and shook my head, not wanting that image to replay in my mind. I had pushed it away a long time ago. I had used other guys in hopes of washing it from my memory. But no one ever did. It always ended with me crying myself to sleep.
Last night, I had let Tripp get close again. Even though we hadn’t spoken, I had allowed him to sit with me, releasing long-suppressed emotions and images. No wonder my dreams played out more like memories.
Getting up, I grabbed my black silk wrap and put it on before raising the walls around my hut. I didn’t want to leave until it was time to help Della get ready. She had said we would meet in the bride’s room at one. I would have breakfast brought to me and enjoy my solitude until then.
“Hungry?” Tripp asked. I spun around to see him holding a tray of food.
With the memory of our first time still fresh in my head, I did not need this right now. My eyes, however, had other ideas. His arms were bigger now. Thicker than they had been before. His hair was shorter and looked damp, as if he’d just stepped out of the shower, although the board shorts suggested that he might have been swimming. Then there was the fact that he was shirtless. All those defined muscles, tanned and decorated with a few well-placed tattoos, would make any woman stop and stare.
“I was going to eat outside of my place, but you opened yours before I could sit down. I figured I had enough to share,” he said, snapping me out of my momentary lack of good sense.
I jerked my eyes back up to meet his. I had to hand it to him—he didn’t look smug, even though I knew he noticed I had just given him a once-over. He was being careful. “I, uh, OK,” I managed to stammer out.
He grinned and stepped inside, then placed the tray on the round high-top table, which had two bar stools underneath it. “I’ll even let you have the eggs,” he said, as if he needed to sweeten the deal so I wouldn’t change my mind.
His arms didn’t have to be flexed for his muscles to stand out. They did that all on their own now. I could even see veins in them as he went about fixing us both a cup of coffee and setting out all three plates of food he’d brought with him.
He needed to put a shirt on, dammit. How was I supposed to eat and not stare at that?
God, Bethy, nothing has ever felt like this.
I closed my eyes tightly and blocked out Tripp’s words replaying in my head.