Whispers of You (The Lost & Found Series Book 1)

“That should hold things,” Jude said as he shot the last nail into the plywood that covered the hole. The huge plates of glass had once been one of my favorite parts of the home—a window that looked out at the lake and one that faced the forest. But I wasn’t sure I’d be able to look at them the same way again.

Jude shook his head as he surveyed the room. “I’m so damn sorry this happened.”

I let out a shuddering breath. “Thank you for helping us deal with the mess.”

Not only had Jude covered the window, but he’d also patched the hole in the wall.

“Of course. Chris is going to pick up some paint that matches your walls tomorrow. Before long, you won’t be able to tell that any of this happened.”

I glanced at Holt, hanging makeshift curtains over my other large window. I’d never bothered with finding anything to cover them before, but now, I guessed it was necessary. It felt as if the walls were closing in around me. I could almost hear the sound of bars clanging closed in my mind.

“Is he okay?” Jude asked quietly.

The concern in Jude’s voice had my heart clenching. I studied Holt as he made sure the curtains were secure, checking every possible vantage point. We were both rattled. We just dealt with it in different ways.

“I think so. You know Holt. He’ll try to come at this like a problem he can fix. Assessing every possible angle.”

But this wasn’t something Holt could fix.

“He loves you. It would kill him if anything happened to you,” Jude said.

“I can’t let anything happen to him either.” Some of the panic from earlier found its way back, clawing at my insides. The day’s events replayed in my mind: Holt diving for me, the window shattering, not knowing if he’d been hit.

“Nothing’s going to happen to Holt,” Jude assured me.

I watched as Holt checked the locks on the windows for what seemed like the millionth time. “I don’t want him taking my welfare on his shoulders either. I don’t want him blaming himself for every little thing that does or doesn’t happen to me.” Because that hadn’t worked out for us very well before.

Jude was quiet for a moment. “I’m not sure that’s something you can control. When you care about someone, you don’t want anything to happen to them. If it does, it feels like it’s your fault—even if that isn’t true.”

He was right in so many ways. I would’ve taken that on if something had happened to Holt this afternoon. I blew out a breath. “I guess we’ll just have to make sure nothing happens to either of us, then.”

“I guess so.” Jude ruffled my hair in his familiar move. “I gotta get going, but call if you guys need anything else.”

Holt strode across the space, extending a hand. “Thanks, man. Really appreciate you doing all of this.”

I knew it meant the world to Holt. I’d seen the hurt on his face when he realized that Chris hadn’t shown. Jude had made some excuse, but I was about ready to drop-kick my friend.

“Anytime. Let me know if the cops find out anything.”

“We will.” Holt walked Jude to the door, locking it behind him.

I didn’t move. Suddenly, I was bone-tired. The kind of fatigue that had nothing to do with sleep but soul-deep weariness.

Holt moved toward me, brushing the hair from my face. “Can I make you something to eat?”

The idea of putting anything in my stomach, even my favorite Thai food, had nausea rolling through me. “I think I just want to take a shower and go to bed.” It was only nine, but I’d had enough of today.

“Okay,” he whispered into my hair. A second later, Holt was leading me to the bathroom.

He opened the door and flicked on the light. After switching on the water, he turned back to me, going for the hem of my blouse and pulling it over my head.

“What are you doing?”

Holt let the garment flutter to the floor, then leaned in and brushed his lips against mine. “Let me take care of you.”

There went that skip in my heartbeat again, the one I used to feel every day thanks to Holt Hartley—the one I’d longed for since the day he left.

“Okay.”

Holt’s fingers went to the button on my jeans, undoing it and pulling down the zipper. Each click of the metal tines sent sparks of sensation dancing across my skin.

I kicked off my shoes, and Holt tugged on my pants, sending them to the floor. His fingers hooked in the lacy underwear I’d put on that day, thinking there was a chance he might be taking them off. I hadn’t pictured that event going down quite like this, though.

Holt slid the lace down my thighs, lifting one leg and then the other to free me. I unhooked my bra and tossed it onto the pile of clothes.

It only took Holt a matter of seconds to shed his, and I couldn’t help but take him in.

“You’re staring, Cricket.”

The corner of my mouth lifted. “You’re nice to look at.”

Holt chuckled as he opened the shower door. “I’m glad you think so.”

I stepped inside the tiled space and moved straight for the stream of water. Ducking under the spray, I let the heavenly warmth rush over me.

Holt moved in behind me. His fingers dug into my shoulders, kneading the muscles.

I let out a little moan but didn’t move.

It turned out Holt didn’t need direction. He grabbed the shampoo from the shelf in the wall and set to work on my hair. His tenderness made my eyes sting, the way he massaged my scalp and made sure every strand was thoroughly washed.

When Holt moved on to conditioner, he combed the substance through my strands with his fingers, doing a far better job than I ever did. He tipped my head back to rinse my hair and pressed a kiss to the hollow of my throat.

A moment later, he filled his hands with body wash. My thighs clenched in anticipation—want.

Now I knew what it was to have Holt’s hands on my skin. To have them everywhere.

He ran the soap up and down my arms, over my stomach, and then across my breasts. My nipples peaked as I arched back into him.

“Holt.” His name was a barely audible whisper.

His lips skimmed my neck. “Love you, Wren.”

My heart cracked. I couldn’t give him those words yet, even though I knew they’d never stopped being true. Just the idea of saying them aloud had my throat constricting and my hands shaking.

His mouth hovered near my ear. “Don’t say anything. I just need you to know.”

I turned in Holt’s arms, my mouth seeking his. I might not be able to give him the words, but I could give him my actions. I could give him me.

Holt let out a low growl and deepened the kiss as he hardened against my belly.

I felt the vibrations of that growl everywhere. It lit a fire inside me. A desperation to fight off the memories of earlier and the knowledge that I could lose him in any number of ways. It was a deep need to prove to myself that I could hold on.

My hand slid between us, stroking his length, up and down, relishing the feel of him hardening further.

“Wren…”

“Take me.”

I needed Holt. Needed the fire we created between us that was ours alone.

Holt lifted me, stepping back out of the spray and lowering us to the tile bench at the back of the stall. His eyes blazed. “Your show, Cricket.”

My confidence faltered for a moment. I didn’t have the first clue what I was doing. All I knew was how Holt made me come alive beneath his fingertips.

Holt’s mouth brushed against mine. “You’re all I want. Feel that.”

He pressed himself against my core and everything in me tightened in delicious need. His reaction showed how much Holt wanted me. It gave me just enough courage to move.

My knees rested on either side of his thighs, and I slowly sank onto him. My lips parted at the achingly beautiful stretch.

Holt traced my bottom lip with his thumb. “Nothing but beauty.”

He rocked against me, and tiny waves of sensation coursed through me, spurring me on. My hips began to move, almost of their own volition. Tiny rises and falls, testing tilts and arcs.

Everything in me turned to liquid heat as I moved. Holt joined me in the dance, his hips lifting to meet mine. We lost ourselves in the rhythm, the pulse that was only ours.

But it wasn’t enough. I wanted Holt to let go. To make me his in a way that meant he’d be with me always.

“Holt.” I didn’t care that I was pleading. “I need more.”

He lifted me off him in a flash. I whimpered at the loss, but he spun me around to face the wall a second later. He thrust inside in one long glide, and I nearly wept with relief. I pushed back, seeking more.

Holt thrust deeper, picking up speed. My legs trembled as my inner walls quivered.

My back arched, meeting him for each movement. I braced my hands against the tile as tears of feeling filled my eyes.

Holt’s hand slid between my legs and circled that bundle of nerves. The sound that escaped me wasn’t anything I’d ever heard fall from my lips.

“Are you with me?”

“With. You.”

Holt flicked my clit, and my world tunneled. If it weren’t for his quick reflexes, I would’ve hit the floor. But Holt’s arm encircled my waist, and he held me up as he thrust one last time, my name on his lips.

We collapsed onto the bench, trying to catch our breath.

“Too much?” he asked softly.

“No. Perfect.”

Because Holt had done just what my soul had cried out for. He’d marked me in a way that I would never forget, no matter what came our way.

Grae sat opposite me in the overstuffed chair in my living room, her legs curled under her. And she was fighting a smile. “You look way too glowy for being shot at last night. Almost like someone got herself some.”

My hand stilled as I reached out to hand her a mug of coffee. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

I sent up a million tiny thank-yous that Holt currently wasn’t on the premises. What we did have were two officers parked outside the cabin. I tried not to let their presence make me feel trapped, but it was hard not to. The sensation was so familiar that it threw me back to a time when reporters had been camped out on my street, and I felt sure the third shooter would show up at any moment.

Grae only grinned wider, oblivious to my spiraling thoughts. “It’s not like I want details. That’s my brother. Ick! But I do want to know that you’re happy.”

I tugged on the corner of my lip with my teeth.

The amusement fled Grae’s expression. “You’re not happy.”

“I’m happy,” I whispered.

“Then why do you look like someone just stole your puppy?”

Shadow lifted her head at that.

I sank back onto the couch, pulling my knees to my chest. “I’m scared someone’s going to steal that happy.”

Grae nodded. “Someone like Holt?”

“Or the shooter. Every time I think about letting myself really want this…”

“It terrifies you.”

I nodded.

Grae blew out a breath as she settled back into her seat and punched something into her insulin pump. “I’m so sorry, Wren.”

“I know it’s not rational, but I can’t stop the fear from taking hold. I have these moments of crazy joy, but in between, all I see are the endless possibilities for how that could all be taken away.”

Grae sipped her coffee. “That’s the risk we all face. The price for loving deeply. Family, friendships, relationships. The only certain thing is that we’ll lose each other.”

My mouth went dry at her words.

“We don’t have control over that. We can only control how we live until it’s our time. Do you want to spend your time worrying yourself sick? Or do you want to live?”

So much of the past ten years had been about protecting myself: from pain, disappointment, and grief. I’d created a bubble that was good. Safe. Predictable. But it wasn’t what life was with Holt. It let me escape a lot of the heartbreaking lows, but it didn’t have the soaring highs that made the world come alive around me.

When I was with Holt, there was this juxtaposition of sensations. He grounded me in a way that made me feel at home yet propelled me into the air for the greatest rush of my life. I’d never met another person who made me feel that way. And I didn’t want to lose that. I also didn’t want to dull it by pulling back.

I lifted my gaze to Grae’s. “If it doesn’t work out, it’s going to crush me.”

She gave me a sad smile. “Sometimes, that’s just the price we have to pay for the good stuff.”

I stared at my friend. Her words were heavy with experience, but she’d only ever had casual boyfriends as far as I knew. Grae was the one who usually did the dumping.

“Are you okay?”

Her smile brightened. “I’m fine. But I’d be better if we could watch Little Women.”

A rightness settled in my heart. Not much could be better right now than some time with my bestie, watching a movie we could both recite by heart. Maybe a little of Grae’s fearlessness would rub off on me, and I’d be ready to take that final step.