“I’m sorry that I didn’t get you a gift.” She let me grab her and wedge her into my stomach. Her thin arms wrapped loosely around my hips as she breathed hard into my lower belly. “I didn’t mean to be a child.”
“You weren’t a child.”
“I forgot. I’m not supposed to say anything about Cassie.”
I peeled her away, staring into her face, but once again, that blank collectedness stared back. “What aren’t you telling me, Della?”
“Nothing.”
“There’s something.”
“Nuh-uh. I’m fine.” She smiled bright and brittle. “See?”
I didn’t buy it, but my brain didn’t work fast enough to figure out what she was hiding.
I fumbled for something to say, some reassurance to utter, some way to bring back the happy kid I loved with all my heart, but I was too slow, and Della’s truth slipped through my fingers.
“Wanna play tag?” she asked, already bouncing away as if the past few minutes never existed. “You won’t catch me.” The flavour of heartache vanished as she giggled and took off at a dead sprint, long hair trailing, ribbon twirling.
I stared after her, lost.
What had just happened?
Della laughed, already a fair distance away. “Ren! Come on, slow poke!”
Whatever it was wasn’t over, but I didn’t want to taint the rest of our day together.
For now, I let her fake normalcy and bought into her assurances that whatever worried her wasn’t too overpowering that it stopped her from playing.
I’d protect her from everything, but until she told me what hurt her, I had to trust she was okay.
I took off, leaping forward into the trees I adored over any house or barn. “Oh, you’re in so much trouble when I get you!”
Her happy squeal tried to delete the strange, painful moment from before.
But it never quite removed the shadow she’d painted on my heart.
No matter how long we ran like the wild creatures we were.
No matter how much time we spent in the forest that was our true home.
Something had happened between us.
And it would have to be dealt with…sooner or later.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
REN
* * * * * *
2006
THAT NIGHT, WHEN Della had fallen asleep and I lay staring at the ceiling beside her, a soft knock on our bedroom door told me Cassie had come to give me her present.
Glancing down at Della, part of me wanted to pretend I hadn’t heard her while the other part desperately wanted to find out what she’d give me.
It took a minute of internal warfare before I slid out of bed in just my boxers and hauled on a pair of shorts that were my cleanest pair. I debated whether to stay shirtless.
Which would seem worse? Shirtless while hoping we were about to make out, or clothed while hoping we were about to make out?
I chose modesty and grabbed a black t-shirt from the floor.
Tiptoeing toward the door, I held my finger to my lips to keep Cassie quiet as I slipped through a crack, looking back once more at sleeping Della, her hair spread all over my pillow and tiny body tucked under cosy covers.
Cassie nodded, following me silently toward the stables until I stopped by the tack room.
I didn’t know what to say because we both knew why she was here. I didn’t want to be the idiot to ask what she wanted or pretend anything was wrong. Just staring at her told me everything I needed to know.
No words were uttered as she stepped into my personal space, stood on her toes, and kissed me softly. The familiarity of kissing her now didn’t mean my heart stayed calm. Like always, it leaped and thudded as warm wetness and slippery intoxication turned my brain to mush and body to granite.
Wrapping my arms around her, I backed her into the tack room wall, pressing her tight and daring to wedge the length of my frame against hers.
She moaned into our kiss, her fingers slipping through my hair as she tugged me closer. Our heads tilted as we deepened the kiss, breathing hard, tasting, and licking—quickly losing propriety in favour of clutching hands and clawing need.
Her hands left my hair, slipping over my shoulders and running down my chest.
I gasped as her touch disappeared up the hem of my t-shirt and fingernails ran along my belly. She tugged the waistband of my shorts, murmuring, “Can I give you a birthday present?”
I could barely speak intelligently when I was of sound body and mind; asking me a question while blood pounded between my legs and my heart acted as if it was in a death metal band made me utterly unable to talk.
“I take your silence as a yes.” Slowly, she dropped to her knees. Her eyes glistened, mouth gleamed, tongue flickered over her bottom lip.
The air prickled around us, full of forbidden danger and illicit taboo. I was playing with fire. I was touching the boss’s daughter, yet really, she was the one touching me.