Chapter 13

13

* T heo POV*

How can I ever go back to the man I was before her? Before her soft moans? Before she went limp in my arms and came on my hands? I'm absolutely fucking ruined.

"Here." Her cheeks are stained red as she flips the top on a bottle of hand sanitizer and squirts it into my waiting palm.

"Don't be embarrassed." I nudge her chin with my knuckle, my heart stuttering when those luminous green eyes meet mine. "That was fucking magical."

"Thank you," she whispers, her husky voice tugging at my balls.

"No. Thank you ."

"For what?"

"For surrendering your body to me. For letting me peel away the layers to see the parts you keep hidden. And fuck is she magnificent." I can't stop myself from sampling her lips again, groaning when she angles her head and pulls me closer. It's my stomach that interrupts us this time.

"Come on, Grumpy. Let's go get some food."

My lips twitch at the nickname, liking it despite myself. Isla motions for me to get on first and then climbs on behind me, flattening herself to my back, her hands wrapping around my stomach. I follow her directions, pulling to the shoulder beside a roadside stand. It looks like a miniature Scottish house—white clapboard and a green roof.

"It's an honor system," she explains, pulling open the small door and disappearing inside. I follow her in, stooping through the doorway. The smell nearly brings me to my knees. Isla reads the roughly written chalk labels. Fish Pie. Vegetable Curry. Lamb Pasties. Cheese Scones. Frangipane Tarts. In the corner, there's a pot plugged in with langoustine soup.

"What kind of heaven did we just walk into?"

"Isn't it wonderful? Greer's parents took it over years ago. I suppose someday Greer will take the reins from them. At least, I hope she does."

"And leave the pub?" Anxiety draws my shoulders toward my ears.

She looks at me funny. "I know this amazing chef that could easily take her place."

"Who?" I pull out my phone and open the notes app, ready to write down the name.

"You, silly." Her words are soft and gentle. Reverent even.

"Me?"

"Yes, you! You're brilliant in the kitchen. I don't think I'll ever forget that cottage pie. I’m pretty sure that that was the day I–" She stops suddenly, her mouth snapping shut.

"You what?" I silently beg her to finish her sentence, desperate for her to admit that she shares this insatiable need inside me that's only happy when she's close. She shakes her head, turning back to the shelves. I can't take my eyes off her as she chooses a loaf of bread and ladles soup into a to-go container. She spins back toward me, licking her lips, her gaze focused on my mouth.

"Theo." Her voice is strangled, tension wrapping around us.

"Don't say my name like that," I beg, squeezing my hands into fists to keep myself from reaching for her. The light from the window caresses her hair, turning it into cherry red, a sliver of sunlight slicing over her eye, luminescent green looking up at me, stealing the breath from my lungs.

"Theo."

"Damn it, Isla." I take the bread and soup from her hands, carefully setting them down before walking her back against the wall, rucking up her sweatshirt, and molding her waist to my hands. So fucking soft. "If we keep doing this, I won't be able to let go. Won't want to share." I push a lock of hair away from her face, tracing the freckles over her cheeks, trying to ignore the panic blooming in my chest.

"We can worry about that later," she murmurs, her gaze roaming over my face. The slam of a car door has us jumping apart, Isla's face flushing crimson. I put several bills in the box, and we load up our arms, passing by a couple getting out of their car. I can’t help the familiar stab of jealousy. I want that so badly, but a traditional relationship doesn't seem to be in the cards for me. It terrifies me even to be thinking of another poly relationship. I fucked it up so badly last time. I'd like to think I learned, but these feelings coursing through me are so fucking strong. It scares the hell out of me.

"What are you thinking?" she asks softly, stowing the food.

Is it too soon to tell her I'd like to buy one of these cottages and hide away with her? That I would give up everything if it meant I could take care of her for the rest of her life? Fucking hell.

"Me, too," she whispers, the same overwhelming emotion reflecting back at me. I give her a tight hug and then climb on the bike, pulling the vee of her thighs snug against me before taking off. She directs me to a small parking area for a local beach, and we trudge across the dunes, arms laden with food. I bump into her when she stops suddenly, nearly dropping everything in my attempt not to knock her over.

"Look."

I follow her gaze to the wide expanse of beach, turquoise water stretching toward the dark mountains in the distance.

"It takes my breath away every time," she whispers, looking up at me. I don't know how she does it, but she makes me feel like she's telling me a secret she's never told anyone else before. Like this is a sacred place meant only for us. Like I'm her end and her beginning. And god save me, that's exactly what I want.

"I don't know how to share you, Sunflower." The words tumble from my mouth before I can stop them. She holds my gaze, seeing the truth in my eyes.

"I wouldn't want to share you, either," she says simply, her eyes clouding. I follow her down the dune and onto the beach, the wind whipping fiery strands around her face. I never should have touched her. I never should have given in to this all-consuming need haunting my every thought. I'd rather have her as a friend than not at all, but there's no going back now. There will never be a day where I don't crave the softness of her skin beneath my fingertips, that teasing, husky brogue.

"So where does that leave us?" she asks, startling me with her bluntness. My jaw works as she settles herself on a rock, carefully taking the lid off the soup.

"Fuck if I know." I stare out at the horizon, realizing the pull to walk into the water and escape my life doesn't seem as strong with her by my side.

"Do we have to dissect what this is? Can we just go with the flow? Hope everything will work itself out?" she asks, pushing her hair out of her face.

"But what if it doesn't?"

"I won't choose just one of you, Theo. I would never get between the three of you like that. I understand you don't want to share, but that means not having a relationship with any of you."

"So you're in a relationship with the other two already?"

She shakes her head. "Dylan and I haven't had much time alone."

Fuck. A second ago I didn’t want to share, but now I’m worried about what will happen if she and Dylan don’t click. Would I be forced to give her up? "Why don't the two of you go check out those pubs you were talking about tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow?"

"Henry and I can hold the fort down. "

"You sure you're ready for that?"

"Positive." I watch as she dips a spoon into the soup, carefully blowing before wrapping her lips around the utensil, her eyes rolling back. Fuck. I drag my gaze away from her, thinking about anything but how she'd look with something else in her mouth. Her groan has my cock twitching uncomfortably.

"You have to try this." She scoops up another spoonful and carefully steers it toward my mouth. The moment is incredibly intimate, the flush in her cheeks betraying exactly what she's thinking about. The flavor bursts over my tongue.

"Second best thing I've ever tasted."

"What's the first?" she asks, ripping off a chunk of bread, dipping it in the soup, and holding it to my mouth. I take it from her, licking the tips of her fingers.

"You."

"Jesus. You're smooth." Her eyes sparkle as she takes a bite of bread.

"If I were smooth, I would have put music on to set the mood a long time ago." I pull out my phone and press play to the song I've been listening to non-stop because it reminds me of her. The dulcet tones of “Sweet and Dark” float around us, adding even more tension to the atmosphere.

"It's never been like this before," she whispers, her eyes following the waves as they crash into the shore.

"Like what?" I need to hear her say it.

"Like you're a fresh mountain spring, and I haven't had a sip of water in years." No games. No cat and mouse. She's just telling it like it is, and it's so fucking refreshing. "Is it because I don't have experience, or is this normal?" she asks, looking up at me with wide eyes.

"There's not a single thing normal about this, Isla," I rasp, my voice breaking. I push to my feet, walking several steps away, running my hands through my hair, wondering what kind of hell I've gotten myself into. I turn back around, and she barrels into me, delicate hands gripping my collar, tipping my face down to hers, forcing me to meet her gaze .

"Don't close me out. I don't think I could bear it."

"I won't close you out, Isla."

"Promise me that no matter what happens, you'll always tell me how you're feeling." She's looking at me so earnestly, with so much hope, it almost hurts. "Promise me we'll figure this out."

I can't promise her that, so I pull her onto her toes and slick my tongue over her bottom lip instead. She kisses me hard and then breaks away, spinning with her arms out, her hair streaming around her like wildfire. I promised myself a long time ago that I would never again fall for the same girl as my brothers, but I never saw her coming.