Page 25 of From West, With Regret

Last month, I would have been surrounded by people like the ones upstairs, but now I’m here, with my sister and new friends. Not to mention that I’m swimming in a pool with my ridiculously handsome dead husband’s brother.

“I guess that answers my question.” West’s deep voice slinks down my body like warm liquid. It slips between my thighs, vibrating against my skin.

I spin around to face him.

“So…” He smirks. “You decided to stay?”

“I was going to call you.”

He tips his head back, laughing. The back of his brown head dips into the water, and when he looks at me again, his mouth quirks, and his eyes turn a brighter shade of blue. “Were you?”

“I was.” My smiles fades. “It’s just been a crazy time lately.”

Realization settles in his expression. “Yeah. It has.”

“Not because of him,” I say, referring to Heath. “My life has just been a bit jumbled now I’m starting over on my own. But it’s in a good way, and while I do need a job, I just felt like…”

“… it was weird since I’m Heath’s brother?” he asks, lifting his brows.

I can’t look at him. Admitting the feelings he’s given me every single time I’ve seen him is a confession I shouldn’t make out loud. Even if Heath was a horrible, mentally abusive husband.

“Yeah,” I say instead. “I just didn’t know if it was okay or if it was strange to reach out to you.”

“It’s okay. I get it. For the record, though, it isn’t strange or weird. At least not on my end. Is it for you?”

“No, but it probably should be.”

Just like I should have been more heartbroken when my husband died.

I get lost in West’s kind eyes. Strangely, he’s comforting. Like home.

My hands vibrate with the need to draw. I need to release the thoughts threatening to drag me into the darkness. The sudden urge to get out of the pool as fast as possible takes over.

“I should go.” I turn and walk toward the set of stairs at the far end of the pool. The water resists and keeps me from putting distance between West and me as quickly as I want. The cool air pricks my wet skin the second my foot meets the first step and I begin emerging from the water. My dress clings to my breasts and abdomen, goosebumps prickling down the length of my arms. I’ve only made it to the third step when I’m pulled to a stop.

West’s long fingers wrap around my wrist, his fingertips pressing to my pulse.

Can he feel how fast my heart is racing?

I look over my shoulder. He’s standing waist deep in the pool with an immense look of worry on his all too gorgeous face. His, what I’m almost certain cost at least four-figures, suit clings to his skin. Every muscle is accentuated as water drips from his towering frame, the blue light below casting a glow on his glistening skin.

But it’s the worry in West’s eyes that causes my heart to race. He’s looking at me as if I’m going to vanish if he so much as blinks.

“Wait,” his voice strains. “I probably shouldn’t be saying this…” He trails off.

“What is it?” I ask.

“I’m just not sure if I’m going to see you again, and… I want to. Fuck, I want to.” He clears his throat as his gaze slips down to his hand on mine, and my skin grows cold the second he pulls it away.

“Ever since we met, we’ve been honest with each other,” I say, rubbing the pad of my thumb across the birthmark on my left hand. “I meant what I said.”

His brows pull together, and he takes a step back, but the worry in his eyes hasn’t changed.

I give him a small smile. “I was going to call.”

He blows out a heavy, relieved breath, and I can’t understand his reactions. I can’t shake this feeling that we’ve known each other a lot longer than since the day of Heath’s funeral.

Can you possibly know someone without actually knowing them?