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I caught.

Then I just couldn’t let her go. The feel of her body, so small and soft against mine. My hand in her shirt—the sweet heat that radiated from her skin under the thin fabric. It was all too much.

I dipped my head and the scent of her—I couldn’t think. I needed to taste. Just once.

If the bells hadn’t rang, I think I might have spun her around, shoved her up against the wall and plundered her mouth.

I’d wanted to tear her clothing off and fuck nearly fourteen years of pain, anger, and heartache into her. I wanted to make her cry and moan and unravel.

I still do.

I glance at my phone again and curse. Then I grin.

Because the woman doesn’t get to run from me now. She ran from me over a decade ago and I don’t even know why. Not really.

I just know I’m not about to let her run now, or ever again. Not if I have anything to do about it.

I log into the company email and see that she’s already opened and replied to a few. She’s not sick. She’s just scared.

I decide to give her today. Tomorrow, though, it’s game on.

The field is packed with wagons and lawn chairs. There’s a few blankets spread out on the grass, and I smile as I pass a young girl who can’t be older than ten as she scoops up her baby brother. The poor kid had been attempting to escape to the grass on hands and knees already stained green by prior, near successful, escape attempts. He wails. She shushes him as she shoots me an awkward smile in return.

I carry on down the path of lawn chairs and wagons, screaming toddlers forced to be where they don’t want to be, and older siblings racing for the playground in the opposite direction. I spot Faye quickly. She’s standing with Candace, staring out at the field.

She bounces into a jump as her arms fly into the air and she cheers. She’s in tight jeans that are frayed at the hem and short enough to show off slender ankles. A flash of gold around one catches my eye, but I think nothing of it. Faye has always liked her anklets.

My eyes trail up over the length of her body, and my own heats. It has nothing to do with the sun that bakes down on the field and everything to do with the woman who has always and forever owned every nook and crevice of my heart and soul.

She’s beautiful. Just as captivating in jeans and a t-shirt as she is in sky-high heels, tight skirts and blouses a man can’t help but imagine unbuttoning.

Candace tips her head to say something to Faye and catches sight of me. She jolts and elbows Faye. I bite my grin into submission as her head whips to me and her mouth drops open.

My already heated blood boils. Yeah, she’s beautiful.

“Wh—what are you doing here?”

“Came to watch Owen play.” I bend to catch the rocket that is Mabel into my arms. “Hey, little princess, how’s it going?”

Dramatic, as I’m coming to learn is her way, Mabel drops her head back on a loud and tormented groan. “I’m boooooored!”

I chuckle. “Is that so?”

She nods. “Mommy won’t let me go to the park by myself.”

“No?”

“Absolutely not.” Faye folds her arms over her chest as though she’s preparing for battle. “That’s what happens when you don’t stay at the park. You lose your privileges.”

“I was looking for pebbles!” If Mabel wasn’t in my arms, I’m confident she’d have stomped her foot.

“In the parking lot, Mabel Grace Wilder! I found you in the parking lot!” Faye does stomp her foot.

I see where Mabel gets her dramatics.

I don’t realize I’m grinning until Faye pins me with her ire and, hands on hips, demands, “Why are you grinning like that, Holt?”

“Someone’s hot and spicy this morning,” I mutter to Mabel, who agrees wholeheartedly. Candace laughs, but bites down on it fast. Faye makes a noise I think I’d like to make her make in private.