Lost Rider(40)

After Quinn left, I’d worked around the barn for a few more hours doing stupid labor that no one wants to do without being told. By the time I left there wasn’t a single stall out of the twenty that were in the main barn that didn’t look perfect. A lot of good the busywork did me, though. I kept replaying the conversation with Quinn over and over.

It wasn’t the first time I felt soul-shaking regret over how I left things with Leighton all those years ago, but it was the first time that I was determined to do something to fix it. To make sure that regret was no longer allowed to cling to me like a parasite that wouldn’t stop sucking its host dry. I was done with regret. However, it wasn’t until I walked in and saw her that I realized I would do just about anything to turn back time. Now I didn’t just want to repair the damage I had inflicted—I needed to more than I’ve ever needed a single damn thing in my life.

Not even my drive to leave town as a teenager had been this strong.

I continue to laugh at her last mouthy bullshit as my eyes roam over her body. Her long legs are bare and the frayed strings from her cutoff shorts just teased at the top of her thighs, the little white strings against her smooth tan skin making it look like silk. She shifts, and those strings dance across her skin and I groan, memories of our night together slamming into my mind. I know what those thighs feel like now. I don’t just have to wonder if they would be as soft as they look while hugging my hips tightly and welcoming my hard thrusting.

Nope. I know exactly what she feels like and it’s fucking branded into my skin.

I have to force my eyes from her legs. It isn’t until I get to the logo of her bakery right above her breasts that I’m able to stop thinking about bending her over the table and getting those legs back around my hips. The heavy fullness of her chest makes the black cotton stretch tight; the flour sprinkled all over the fabric distracts my mind and finally gets me to focus.

She looks like a complete mess.

One hell of a knock-me-on-my-ass beautiful mess.

Thoughts that I’ve missed this for so long fill my mind; the regret I’ve been so determined to stop feeling comes back. I could have had this, but instead I threw it all away because I wasn’t strong enough to stick around.

She gives me a look of absolute impatience and frustration when I finish the slow drag of my eyes up her body. Her looks might have rendered me speechless but it’s this right here, her, that has my heart speeding back up as the feeling of contentment fills my body.

Her blond hair is in a messy ponytail gathered at the top of her head. Her flawless skin is completely free of any traces of makeup. She looks so much like she did ten years ago. Young and full of so much beauty inside of her that it just radiates from her every pore.

The color is high on her cheeks and I can’t tell if it’s from anger, embarrassment, or maybe—hopefully—some arousal. I just know that being around her makes me feel alive for the first time since being forced off the circuit. I don’t feel like there is some big unknown missing in my life. That missing piece I’ve been searching for since I was old enough to start putting it all together.

The same piece I’ve felt was missing since the day I hightailed it out of here. I assumed that it was something I would find out on the road. I think deep down I always knew that missing piece was hiding in the one place I was so fucking determined never to go back to.

So no, I didn’t just want to clear the air between us, but I needed it with a fierceness that I still don’t completely understand.

I’m finally able to calm my racing thoughts and focus back on her. She’s standing there, her arms loose at her sides, shock holding her features hostage. I probably look like I’m as insane as old man Croyers, and that’s saying a lot, since he talks to trees and drags around his rocking chair on a leash.

“We need to talk, darlin’. It’s time.” She shakes her head, but doesn’t retreat when I move toward her. “I’ve got a lot I need to say, and if you don’t want to talk, fine . . . but it needs to be said, Leigh.”

“You aren’t leavin’, are you?”

I shake my head.

She takes a deep breath before giving me a small shake of her head. Resignation clear on her face. “Do you want some coffee?”

“Yeah, darlin’, make it strong.”

Silently, she turns and walks through the kitchen door and into the main room of her bakery. I follow. She lifts a finger and points to the table in the back corner before walking to the front windows. She takes a second to look into the streets and at the townsfolk that are milling around before she pulls down the shades. I’m sure that she has them there to block the sun during the day, but they effectively block the view into the bakery from anyone that is out on Main Street tonight. I could have told her it was pointless. Gossip started burning like wildfire the second I parked my truck next to her Jeep and walked inside. This town, it misses nothing, and they’ve been waiting to see what would happen next after that kiss.