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  The hostel was still a few blocks away, and he wasn’t sure if he’d make it that long, especially if she kept kissing him. Images of her mouth in other places only served to frustrate him all the more.

  He wanted her.

  Needed her.

  Now.

  Her hands moved under his shirt, sliding them from his lower stomach up his chest until she reached his shoulders and tried to push the shirt off. He wasn’t so drunk that he was ready to strip in the middle of the road. She looked around, and with a wicked grin, she pulled him toward an empty, darkened one-way street. He pushed her up against a brick wall. Her head cradled in his hand while his other moved under her dress until he reached her panties. “Oh God, Freja.”

  His hand and fingers caressed her, bringing her to the edge. “So close.” She breathed out. His lips made a trail from her mouth to the top of her strapless dress. He pulled it down with his teeth until her breasts popped out over the top. He pulled one pink nipple into his mouth, sucking and nipping at it. Her moans encouraged him to keep going. He moved to the other, giving it the same attention until she screamed, “Billy! Yes.” His mouth was back on hers, muffling her cries to keep from bringing unwanted attention.

  As her breathing normalized, she pushed him back just enough to get her hands between them and unzipped his shorts. Her delicate hands slid from his stomach under his boxers until she held his cock. His head tilted back as he moaned. He wasn’t going to last long if she kept stroking him. He’d been so close to making a fool of himself when she came with his fingers inside of her. She was so incredibly gorgeous, and when she moaned his name, it took everything he had to keep from coming.

  “Condom,” she demanded. He fumbled with his wallet until he found the square foil wrapper. She took it from him, ripped the wrapper with her teeth, and gripped him tightly as she rolled it onto his stiff cock.

  Sweat ran down his neck and back as he tried to even out his breathing. He loosened his hold on her and lowered her until her feet touched the ground. She adjusted the bodice of her dress so her small, perfect breasts were covered.

  He’d never had sex in public before, but then again, he’d never been so caught up in the moment that he didn’t care who saw him.

  After he had readjusted his clothes, he reached for her hand, and she silently took his.

  When they stepped into the overly warm hostel, she pulled him toward the lockers and told him to meet her in the shower. He’d never heard a better idea.

  Minutes later, they were under the spray, making out and taking turns washing each other. She was the most passionate woman he’d ever met, and what they’d just done wasn’t enough. A sick feeling started in his lower belly as he thought about leaving the next morning. If they only had tonight, he wasn’t going to let her sleep alone.

  After drying off and changing, he took her hand and guided them to his bed. He’d never been so happy to stay at one of the few hostels that had curtains surrounding their beds.

  He followed her into the tight space, sliding the curtain closed behind him.

  Facing each other, he watched as her eyes moved across his chest and down his arms. She reached out and traced a tattoo he had on his chest while he ran a hand along the length of her body. Her skin was soft and warm under his touch.

  “I like this one,” she said, pointing to the first tattoo he ever got. He searched for a tattoo parlor the moment he landed in Greece. Now, every country he visited had a mark on his chest. He didn’t say a word, just pulled her closer until their bodies wrapped around each other.

  “I don’t want to let you go,” he confessed. She bit her lower lip as she moved closer until their lips met. “Where are you headed next?” he asked.

  She gave him a shy smile. “Wherever you are.”

  Relief flooded him. “Thank God.”

  She giggled into his chest. “So where are we going next?”

  “Madrid.”

  Chapter Four

  August 4:00 AM

  Bridget

  Bridget slid out of bed, picked up her pillow, and shuffled into the living room just as the air conditioner kicked on. A slight shiver ran up her bare arms and legs. August in Arizona meant hot, but Billy made sure the apartment stayed comfortable, even if the mornings were a tad cooler than she preferred.

  She dropped the pillow on the overstuffed couch and followed behind it. The sofa had been a gift from Billy eight years ago. If it weren’t for him, she’d still be using the old, itchy plaid one that had been there when she moved in. She rarely spent money on things she didn’t need. Saving for Katie’s education was far more important. He’d surprised her with it. It wasn’t a special occasion. One day, two men showed up, bringing her a new couch and taking the old one away. The thoughtfulness of the gesture meant more than the actual piece of furniture.

  Billy made sure their needs were met without expecting or wanting anything in return. It’s the way he expressed his love. It may not be the way she wanted him to, but she’d take any love he had to offer.

  She scrunched up her legs and pulled an afghan over herself to ward off the slight chill. Though she was emotionally and physically exhausted, her worries for the future kept her awake.

  Her baby girl would be leaving for college today. When she held a positive pregnancy test in her hand at sixteen, she never imagined this was where life would take her. Being pregnant at sixteen was difficult and terrifying, but it led her here…to Billy.

  Her Billy.

  When she had no one left, he became her family. When she had nowhere else to go, he allowed her to make the diner and the apartment above it her home.

  She’d been in love with Billy Hall since she was sixteen. She’d been content with their friendship but now feared Katie leaving meant the end of that, too.

  Bridget’s laptop called to her. She picked it up and balanced it on her knees while she waited for the login screen. It was ancient, but it was hers, bought used a few years ago. She’d intended to start writing again, but, instead, it sat and collected dust. There was always an excuse not to use it.

  As an adolescent, she’d spent hours journaling her life and feelings. In school, her Creative Writing class had given her an outlet for the characters in her head. It was the only time she felt comfortable sharing her stories. Mrs. Langston, her high school writing teacher, told Bridget that she showed promise and encouraged her to write.

  After Katie’s birth, Bridget pushed her love of writing aside.

  * * *

  After finally getting Katie to sleep late in the evening, Bridget pulled out a fresh notebook and started writing. A new story idea had been swimming around in her head for weeks, and she was impatient to get it written down.

  The characters and story came to life under her pen. She smiled as idea after idea came to her. Until the pounding on the front door startled her into awareness. Katie was crying.

  Bridget trembled with panic as she hurried over to the crib and stared at her daughter. Her face was bright red and scrunched into an angry grimace. Tiny hands fisted and legs stretched out as her cries turned to screams.

  Katie was only a few weeks old, and Bridget was already failing motherhood. She lifted her baby to her chest and walked with a bounce attempting to calm her. “I’m sorry, baby girl. I’ll never do that again,” she cried.

  Her legs shook beneath her, and her chest tightened in fear. What if someone found her to be an unfit mother?

  The knocking continued, but she didn’t want to face the person on the other side of the door. She didn’t want him to know what an awful mother she was. Less than a minute later, a key turned in the lock, and Billy stepped inside.

  He stood in the doorway, chest rising and falling with each worried breath. Neither of them said a word. He went straight to the kitchen and prepared a bottle with the precision of someone with experience. With a bottle in one hand, he held his arms out for Katie.

  With reluctance, Bridget handed her over to his open arms. She felt
inadequate in every way. How could she get so carried away that she didn’t even hear her own baby?

  She followed Billy to the couch, sitting on the opposite end from where he sat holding Katie. His eyes never leaving her daughter’s as he whispered sweet words. Within minutes, her crying turned to whimpers until she finally fell asleep.

  “Bridget?” Lost in self-loathing, she startled at the sound of Billy’s voice. “I’m here for you. It’s all right to ask for help.” He was so sincere. She didn’t dare tell him the truth. Instead, she let him pull her into his chest, allowing her to soak up the physical affection he gave her. As she looked at her daughter in his arms, Bridget swore she’d always put her daughter first. Katie was more important than her makebelieve stories.

  * * *

  The tap tap tap of her fingers touching the keys had become a familiar sound that brought a smile to her face. She entered her password and clicked on her current document. She had been working on this idea for weeks. Each day, her excitement grew. Every free moment was spent working on her book idea. She had forgotten how much she loved creating, but the one thing Bridget didn’t expect was to find herself.

  For the first time in her life, Bridget saw who she was and what she wanted. The past eighteen years she’d lost herself in motherhood and work. Often times, she was just surviving. This was the first time she was doing something for herself, and it was exciting and terrifying.

  She plugged in her headphones and turned on writing music to help escape into the world she created.

  Bridget was so lost in her story she hadn’t heard the knock at the door, but she definitely felt his warm, soft kiss to her temple. She didn’t have to look to know it was him. There was only one man who smelled that good.

  Billy.

  Up until recently, he’d rarely been physical with her. But the last few weeks had been different.

  It started with a hand squeeze or an arm around her shoulders as they discussed Katie’s impending absence. Then yesterday, he held her in his arms and stroked her cheek as she cried on his shoulder. His tenderness and willingness to be a support to her only reminded her of how much she needed him in her life.

  But he’d never kissed her. She tried not to read anything into it. He was just being Billy, but she couldn’t help the small spark of hope that one day he’d love her the way she loved him.

  Her gaze lifted to a view she wished she could wake up to every morning. Billy sat on his haunches in front of her; his face mere inches away. She smelled coffee on his breath and wished she could taste it too.

  Not ready to share her writing yet, she yanked off her headphones and closed her computer screen.

  When he picked up her computer and placed it on the coffee table, she gave him a tired grin. He turned back and brushed her curls out of her face with his warm fingers. She moaned softly as a wave of heat spread through her, leaving a flushed face and a fluttery heart in its wake. Doing her best to pass it off as an I’m really tired groan, she stretched her arms above her head and yawned.

  He chuckled under his breath. “Good morning,” he whispered, not wanting to wake up Katie. “You’re up early. Again.”

  “Yeah.” She lifted her head to look around to confirm Katie was still in bed, or at least in her room. She slid over to give him a place to sit and leaned against him once he took the spot. His left hand held his mug as his right arm wrapped lightly around her shoulders. She suppressed another moan when he ran his fingers through her messy hair.

  “How long have you been awake?” he asked, seemingly unaware of her reaction to his touch.

  She sat up to peek over her shoulder at the kitchen clock. “A couple hours.” When she turned back, his face—his lips—were right there. He was close enough she could see tiny blue specs in his gray eyes. Her breath caught when she realized he was gazing at her with an expression she wasn’t familiar with. His lips parted as if they were an open invitation. It was wishful thinking on her part, so she turned away, allowing her hair to fall between them and block her view. He tucked the wild strands behind her ear, thwarting her attempt to hide. He gave her an apologetic smile before pulling her close, letting her snuggle against his shoulder.

  “You need to sleep. Please let me call someone to take your shift.”

  “I’m okay. I wouldn’t be able to sleep, and I need to keep myself busy.” They talked enough about Katie leaving that she was sure he understood why.

  They sat in silence, sipping their coffee.

  Today, she had to say goodbye to her baby girl, the hardest thing she would ever experience. Not just because Katie was her only family, but because she was the reason he was still here.

  Will he be leaving now?

  Will he sell the diner?

  Will he get on with his life somewhere else, with someone else?

  A tap on her forehead from Billy’s index finger startled her out of her never-ending spiral. “Stop thinking so hard.”

  “What am I going to do, Billy?” She nearly choked on the words. Now that she had an idea of what she wanted to do for a career, it left her personal life glaringly empty. She wanted him, but he wasn’t an option.

  “Anything you want.” He shrugged, making it sound so easy.

  She growled in frustration. “We need to talk about some things.” Her voice broke at the end. She loved Billy so much that it frightened her. Losing him would be devastating.

  He looked away from her. “You’re right, we do.”

  Her thoughts automatically jumped to the worst-case scenario.

  Him leaving.

  He had to be tired of taking care of her. She couldn’t blame him. She felt guilty for taking up so much of his life.

  “We do?” Swallowing hard, she concentrated on trying to fill her lungs with air. They didn’t seem to hold as much as they usually did. Whatever he had to say, she wanted him to get it over with, like ripping off a Band-Aid.

  He cradled her face in his hands and forced her to meet his eyes. The caress of his thumbs on the underside of her jaw calmed and stunned her in equal measure. “Yes.”

  The expression on his face was gentle, so very Billy; it broke her heart. He’d never intentionally hurt her. No matter how painful his words were, she’d be strong. She loved him too much to hold him back any longer.

  A voice still thick with sleep interrupted them. “Do I smell coffee? Is Billy here?”

  Katie staggered out, stretching. “Good morning, you two.”

  Billy pulled Bridget closer and briefly touched her forehead with his own. “Let’s talk later.” She nodded but knew she would be carrying the weight of sick anticipation in her stomach all day.

  Releasing her, Billy looked over his shoulder and grinned. “Good morning, Sweets.”

  Chapter Five

  July 1995

  Billy

  Billy gripped the steering wheel of his deceased father’s 1980 Chevy pickup. His hands clenched so tight, his knuckles turned white. “I can’t do this,” he repeated to himself as he stared at the back of his family’s diner—more accurately, his diner, as of a month ago. It was his, whether he wanted it or not.

  Each intake of breath became more difficult than the last. He leaned his head against the back of his hands clutching the steering wheel. Frustrated cries escaped his throat. Suddenly the cab felt like it was closing in on him. He rolled down the window and stuck his head out. The heat of the day pulled the last of the cool air out of the pickup.

  “Why? Why are they making me do this?” His parents died a month ago, and it still felt like a horrible dream. Along with his new unwanted responsibilities.

  He looked at the diner, noticing the minor changes his parents made in the past couple years. It looked the same as it did twenty years ago, except the fresh coat of paint and new exterior doors. It had a 1950’s feel. Red booths hugged the wall along the front windows, and red stools lined the long bar. Black and white checkered tiles covered the floor in the dining area, and in the corner was an old jukebox th
at played music from the 1950’s and 60’s.

  As a young boy, he’d loved the responsibility of working in the diner and making his parents proud. He happily learned every aspect of the business, but by high school, he resented it. When his friends were coming home from partying, he was just getting up for work.

  It was the two-year mark of his European escape when he received the call.

  He could still smell the sweaty bodies of nine other occupants of the hostel in Madrid. He also remembered the feel of soft breasts against his chest and long slender thighs tangled with his own.

  “Freja.” He ached for her. She was everything he needed. Her soft body and beautiful face might have drawn him in, but she was smart, funny, and had a wonderful sense of adventure. She was a one-night stand turned into a month long affair.

  * * *

  A firm hand nudged his shoulder. Billy drowsily lifted both lids to see a scruffy, bearded man leaning over him and Freja. In a thick accent he asked, “Billy Hall? You Billy Hall?”

  His voice too tired to answer, he nodded.

  Using broken English the bearded man said, “Phone for you. Emergency from America.”

  Billy glanced at the clock hanging over the door and tried to do the math in his head.

  His parents were always too tired to call after 9:00 PM.

  He slid out from beneath Freja, making sure to cover her barely clothed body. Not that she cared, but he didn’t want the other men in the room to ogle her. “I’ll be right back,” he whispered in her ear.

  “I’ll keep your spot warm.” With her eyes still closed, she gave him a sleepy smile.

  He kissed her forehead and followed the gentleman to the lobby. The man stepped behind the counter and handed over the receiver.

  Minutes later, Billy hung up the phone with Diane, his family’s longtime friend and employee. “It can’t be true.”