Love Triangle Six Books of Torn Desire - Willow Winters Page 0,92

side of the house, I pass the Midget. Trace’s driver dropped us off after work early this morning, so there shouldn’t be any other cars in the driveway. Except I’m certain I see a yellow one parked at the end. A taxi cab?

My head tips, and the muscles in my neck strain as I squint through the haze. Why is a taxi in my driveway?

The car door slams shut, and a dark figure emerges from the mist with a duffel bag slung over one shoulder. The silhouette walks like a man, the outline of shoulders and biceps unquestionably masculine. And familiar.

My heart pounds in my ears, and my palms grow damp.

He looks like Cole. Thinner. Slightly longer hair. His gait a little more cautious.

It’s a mirage. The density of the fog is playing tricks on me.

But his eyes… Dark, warm, unforgettable Cole eyes.

The tremble begins in my chin and ripples inward, railroading me. I’m seeing things. It’s the only explanation for the sudden need to empty my stomach.

Ten feet away, he drops his bag and stares at me out of a gaunt Cole face. “Danni.”

The mug falls from my hand and shatters on the driveway. I’m shaking, swaying, panting sandpaper breaths from a chest too tight to heave. I can’t rationalize this. It isn’t real. It can’t be real.

I reach for him, and my legs don’t work right, lurching me forward and throwing me off balance as a low keening sound claws from my throat.

His arms come around me. Strong arms. Intimate arms. I know the shape, the golden skin tone, the dusting of dark hair.

Except there are no tattoos.

I drag my gaze to his neck, to the pristine skin above the collar of the t-shirt. No snake. No ink anywhere.

“You’re not him.” I push against his chest, my heart rate careening out of control.

“I know I look different.” He grips my head with both hands and puts his eyes inches from mine. “Take a deep breath and really look. It’s me, baby.”

My face crumples as I stare into the liquid brown eyes that never stopped haunting me. Tears gather at the corners, clinging to his dark lashes, and the sight of his agonized expression sucks all the oxygen from the atmosphere.

“How?” A sob escapes, but I fight back the next one. Everything inside me goes cold and still, my voice a scratchy whisper. “How is this possible?”

“I have a lot of explaining to do, but there are things I can’t… I just need to hold you for a minute.” He cups the back of my head and pulls my cheek to his chest. “Christ, I missed you so much.” The heavy tempo of his heart pounds in my ears. “You have no idea how much I love you.”

My body melts against him for a fraction of a second before my brain fires.

“No!” I twist out of his embrace and stumble back, my hands shaking violently. “Where have you been? It’s been four and a half years! How could you do this to me?”

“Shhh. Baby…” He reaches for me, his eyes burning with desperation. “I’m here now.”

“I buried you!” I swat him away as painful memories flash behind my eyes. “The ashes…the funeral… I mourned you. Goddammit, I cried myself to sleep every night for years. Why didn’t you call me? Message me?” My voice tumbles into an anguished cry. “Why didn’t you come home?”

“I’m so sorry,” he chokes. “It kills me to see you hurting. Please don’t cry.”

“Tell me!” My muscles cramp against the relentless pain.

I can’t stop staring at him, devouring the sharp angles of his too-thin face, reacquainting myself with his fierce mannerisms, the confidence in his movements, and the compulsive way he looks at me. I never thought I’d see him again, and my brain struggles to make sense of what’s standing right in front of me. How is he here? Whose ashes did I bury? Why isn’t he explaining his absence?

“It’s complicated.” The despair in his eyes hardens. “Trust me, I would’ve been here if I could.”

“No, that’s not good enough. You ruined us, and I need to understand why!”

His jaw flexes, and his brows dig in. I know that determined look. He wants to touch me, comfort me with his body, and he’ll hold me down if he has to. I brace for a struggle.

He steps toward me, shoulders squared, and halts at the sound of the back door opening behind me.

Trace.

Sharp pain stabs through my chest, stopping my heart. The world around me