Page 36 of Shades of You (Calypso Key #4)

Chapter Thirty-Six

Hunter

Night had settled in like a thick blanket over Dove Key, smothering the day’s excitement with a serene quiet. Main Street was nearly deserted, save for me and my restless thoughts. I walked with no particular destination in mind. Above me, hanging flower baskets swayed gently in the ocean breeze, their vibrant colors dimmed to softer hues in the lights from the streetlamps.

After the baseball game, I had been riding high on adrenaline and deep, deep fulfillment. Evan and I had embraced like the brothers we truly were. It was a moment I’d visualized in my head countless times, never quite believing it could happen. But the cheers faded into a distant hum when I scanned the stands, searching for the face that would make this scene truly complete.

The face that wasn’t there.

Evan clapped me on the back, his grin wide and infectious as my family discussed where to go for our victory party. But my heart tugged elsewhere.

“I’m not going out with you guys,” I told him quietly, pulling him aside as the team celebrated around us. “I need to find Brenna.”

Evan’s eyes softened as they darted to the empty stands and back. He nodded. “I understand. Go get her back.”

As the elation of having things finally right with Evan ebbed away, it left behind a stark realization that my world was incomplete without Brenna by my side. With determined steps, I left my teammates behind.

I went home, but a quick shower to rinse off the sweat did nothing to wash away the unease. I changed into jeans and a T-shirt, only to find the walls of my apartment pressing in on me, suffocating me.

And that was how I found myself walking down Main Street, trying to figure out how to approach Brenna. The air around me appeared to have a new clarity like I’d put on a pair of glasses. Except it felt like the opposite. Since embracing Evan on that field, I felt like everything holding me back had been stripped away. If he was willing to put the past behind us, then so was I, dammit. I thought of Ayesha and her small family. Part of me would always feel the ache of my failure to protect them, but now I realized that guilt didn’t have to be a life sentence. The Afghani family was a part of the past, and it was time to move on. Brenna was also a part of my past, but she was my future as well.

She was everything.

A flicker of light from the old antique shop caught my eye, and surprise at seeing it still lit up brought me up short. Without any help from me, my feet carried me forward until I pushed open the door. The bell overhead announced my entrance with a jingle.

“Oh my!” came the surprised voice of the owner, his eyes lifting from the innards of an antique mantle clock. “I didn’t realize I’d left the door unlocked! I lost track of time repairing this clock.” His weathered face cracked into a smile after studying me more closely. “Well, come in, Hunter.”

“Sorry for barging in, Mr. Jacobs,” I said, smiling that Dad’s old friend had remembered me.

Of course he was older now, his hair a steel-gray with a liberal amount of scalp showing. But his blue eyes were still kind as he waved off my apology. He straightened, wiping his hands on a cloth as he looked me up and down. “Nothing to apologize for. The rumor mill is true for once. You have grown into quite the strapping fellow. But you still have the same eyes—I recognized them. Though I think by this time they’ve seen a thing or two. But what brings you here so late?” He peered at me through his round spectacles, curiosity etching his features.

“I was walking to clear my head, and your lights pulled me in here.” My gaze traveled over the various items that filled the shelves and tables.

“Ah, the restlessness of youth,” Mr. Jacobs mused, leaning against the counter. “Reminds me of those times with your father. Out on his boat before dawn and trying to outsmart the fish.”

“Dad used to tell me how you guys would compete on who’d get the biggest catch.”

“Compete? Ha! More like I was always trying to keep up with him.” The twinkle in his eye faded slightly. “We had good times, your dad and I.”

“Hey, how’s your wife doing? I still remember her apple pie.”

Mr. Jacobs’s gaze softened, a shadow flickering across his eyes. “She passed away three years back.”

My shoulders slumped. “Really sorry to hear that. She was a wonderful lady.”

“Thank you. She sure was. But life has its seasons, and we learn to cherish the memories.” Mr. Jacobs’s voice was gruff with emotion, then he cleared his throat busily. He gestured around the shop. “Every piece here holds a story, much like life. I opened the shop shortly after she passed, and it keeps me company, you could say.”

I smiled. “Guess that makes you the keeper of stories, then.”

“Something like that,” he agreed, his smile returning. “Now what can I help you find tonight? Or are you just browsing?”

“Maybe just looking.”

“Take your time. There’s lots to explore.” The shopkeeper returned to his workbench.

I meandered aimlessly through the aisles, hands clasped behind my back. I wandered past the large picture window display that Brenna and I had admired before dancing under the stars. Instead of classic books, now it held a selection of handcrafted furniture. Continuing, my eyes roved over brass compasses and vintage cameras, each with their silent tales, but nothing snagged my attention.

Until I reached the glass case at the counter.

The book shined like a beacon, lying innocently between a pocket watch and an ornate cigar box—a first edition of The Sun Also Rises by Ernest Hemingway.

And the memory sprang up. Brenna’s nose almost pressed against the window, eyes wide with yearning as she recalled the book and her longing for it. And the owner’s refusal to sell. But he wasn’t a faceless mirage anymore. Mr. Jacobs and I shared history.

And what better way to bridge the chasm between our families than for a Markham to give a Coleridge a piece of Hemingway?

“Mr. Jacobs,” I called, nodding toward the case. “How much for the Hemingway?”

He looked up, following my gaze to the book. A pained expression briefly crossed his face. “Oh, that one? It’s not for sale, Hunter. That book belonged to my late wife. She loved Hemingway, and I keep it here for sentimental reasons.”

My fingers tapped a nervous rhythm on the glass, the cool surface sending a shiver up my arm. “Mr. Jacobs.” My voice was reassuringly steady despite the storm of emotions brewing within me. “I understand the value this book holds for you and why it’s precious. But it’s more than just a rare find to me. It represents… hope.”

“Hope?” Mr. Jacobs echoed. His eyebrows knitted together as he approached me at the case, the tools from his clock repair forgotten.

“Well, there’s a woman I’m seeing,” I confessed. A small, knowing smile hinted at the corners of his mouth, as if he’d already pieced part of the story together. “We had a fight, and I said some things I shouldn’t have. She’s everything to me, and she’s longed for this book for years. So this book is a symbol—of new beginnings, of bridging divides. Giving it to her would be my way of showing her that she’s my future.”

Mr. Jacobs studied me for a moment before one gray brow lifted. “That woman wouldn’t happen to be Brenna Coleridge, would it?”

A surprised bark of laughter escaped me at his astuteness, and I met his gaze with a shy smile playing on my lips. “Yes.”

“Now I understand. She’s wanted that book for years. ”

“It’s symbolic. We Markhams are the ones with the Hemingway link. So it would only be fitting for me to give her the copy of The Sun Also Rises that she’s always coveted.”

The shop owner’s gaze flickered to the book, then back to me, and I could see the wheels turning behind those aged eyes. “Symbolic gestures are powerful things, Hunter. But so is the memory of a loved one.” His voice was thick with emotion, an echo of loss resonating in the quiet of the shop.

“Mr. Jacobs, if there were any other way…” My words trailed off. How could I explain that this wasn’t just about me winning Brenna back? This was about healing wounds that went deeper. “I need it. Please.”

“I can’t sell you this book, Hunter.” Mr. Jacobs’s voice was firm, and my stomach twisted before crashing to the floor. Which was why his next words caught me so off guard. “But I’ll give it to you.”

“Give it to me?” My heart slammed against my ribcage.

He nodded slowly as a bittersweet smile graced his lips. “Maybe it’s time for that book to be part of a new story. One of hope, forgiveness, and a different future.”

“Thank you.” The two words sounded paltry compared to the gratitude swelling inside me. “I can’t tell you what this means.”

“Take care of her, Hunter. The book and the girl.” Mr. Jacobs unlocked the case and handed me the Hemingway. As we shook hands on the exchange, the transfer was one of trust as much as it was a book.

I tucked the Hemingway against my chest, and it felt like a talisman as I stepped out into the night air. Knowing exactly what I had to do, I took off at a trot. It wasn’t far to go.

I reached Brenna’s apartment, and my palm was sweaty as I stared at the alarm pad. The one I’d installed what seemed like a lifetime ago. After a brief hesitation, I entered my code and opened the exterior door instead of ringing the bell. I didn’t want to give her the chance to say no without seeing me face to face. I padded softly up the stairs and held the book behind my back. I knocked on her apartment door before I could second-guess myself.

“Harper?” I could hear her faint voice, then she opened the door with her phone in one hand. “Did I forget some—” Her green eyes flew open wide. She went completely still, shock making her mouth slack. “Hunter!”

“Hi.”

“I was just going to call you…” She gestured vaguely at me with her phone.

“Can we talk?” My voice came out gruffer than I intended, betraying the turmoil inside.

“Okay. Fine. Yes.” Blushing, she stepped aside to let me in. She set the phone on the table near the door, and that small sound was unusually loud.

We settled onto her couch, an ocean between us despite the close proximity. Beside me, I hid the book underneath a throw pillow. The weight of it pressed against my thigh as my heart raced wildly.

“I was really happy you came to the game tonight,” I said, unable to meet her gaze just yet. “But when you left… it felt like all the air got sucked out of the field.”

She shifted, her fingers twining together in her lap. “Hunter, I’m sorry?—”

“Wait,” I cut in, needing to get this out before I lost my nerve. “I’ve been thinking a lot about what you said the other day. You brought up the woman I loved. I’ve been too afraid to talk about her.”

“I know that’s a painful subject for you to talk about. ”

“It’s not that. I just needed to find the courage. And now I have.”

Brenna stilled, her mouth tightening as if bracing for impact.

That involuntary reaction pulled an unexpected smile from me. “You don’t realize, do you?” Gathering my nerve, I turned to face her fully. “I’ve only loved one woman my whole life. I fell in love with her in high school, then had to leave her behind. One woman who was the memory that got me through some of my roughest times. One woman who has always been the light for me, even during my darkest hours… You, Brenna. It’s always been you. I’ve just been too screwed up to tell you how much I love you.”

The air hung between us, charged with words that had taken too long to say, and emotions I’d bottled up for what felt like an eternity. But saying them now felt like coming home. At last.

Brenna became absolutely still, and her mouth hinged slightly open. Tears welled in her eyes. “I love you too.”

The depth of emotion in those words pulled at every thread of my being. And once again, she gave me the courage to continue. “Today. Fixing things with Evan, and with my family… it made things so clear to me. We all stood on the pitcher’s mound, celebrating. But the most important part was missing. You. You’re the piece that’s always been gone.”

A hesitant smile touched her lips, and it was like a sunrise after the longest night. I reached beside me, slipping the book from its hiding spot. The cover gleamed dully in the dim light as I held it out to her.

Her hand flew to her mouth as she recognized the book, her eyes wide with astonishment. “How did you get him to part with this?” She reverently took it in her hands, tracing the title with a trembling finger.

I couldn’t help but grin, the corners of my mouth pulling wide. “It was the only way to win the heart of the woman I love. I told him that.”

Laughter spilled from Brenna like a melody, the sound that only comes when joy and relief collide. She clutched the book to her breasts. Its spine was creased with history, much like our own tangled past.

“I can’t believe this is happening right now. I never needed grand gestures, Hunter,” she said, her voice wavering slightly. “But this—this is beyond beautiful. It’s like… a peace offering between the Markhams and the Coleridges.”

Her words filled the small space of her apartment, heavy with the weight of generations of rivalry and the hope of reconciliation. I nodded. “That’s exactly what it is. That old book is more than just paper and ink. It’s a symbol of new beginnings.”

And before I could stop myself, I leaned forward and touched my lips to hers. Brenna cupped the back of my neck and slanted her head, kissing me back fully. It was the best kiss I’d ever experienced.

Brenna broke our kiss with a teary laugh. She brushed a hand over her wet cheek and set the book gently on the coffee table. “Actually, I have a bit of a gesture myself. I went straight to Siesta Sunset after the game and talked to my family. They’re ready to meet you. Seeing you and Evan embrace like that gave me the courage to face my family and explain what you mean to me. And that I’m willing to fight for you. I’m proud to show you off to anyone, but especially them. We can go over there right now if you want.”

I shook my head slowly. Not because I dreaded the introduction, but because the very core of my soul screamed that I couldn’t bear to be anywhere but here with her. Desire stirred within me, drawing me closer to her on the couch until the distance felt like nothing. “Thank you. And don’t worry, I’ll be on my best behavior when we meet.” I brushed a finger down the length of her arm, smiling at the goose bumps that rose on her soft skin. “But you know what? Introductions can wait until tomorrow. Right now, I want you all to myself.”

With a boldness that took me by surprise, Brenna grabbed me by the shoulders and yanked me forward. She pulled me into a searing kiss that shattered the careful distance we’d danced around the past few days.

“God, I love you,” I breathed against her lips, the words spilling out raw and unguarded.

The admission seemed to ignite something within her, and she pressed back with equal fervor. “There’s no one else for me. Ever. I love you, Hunter.”

Our passion erupted like wildfire, consuming any last traces of restraint. I felt exalted, my soul free at last. Desperate hands tugged at zippers and buttons until nothing separated us. Her gorgeous, curvy figure was a siren call I couldn’t resist, and every touch felt like a homecoming.

As we fell back onto the couch, our bodies pressed together. My fingers trailed over her breasts, delighting in the feel of her hot yet silky skin. A gasp escaped her lips when I lowered my head and took one of her peaks into my mouth, gently sucking and drawing circles around it with my tongue.

Then I groaned, a deep wrenching sound of frustration. “Shit. I don’t have a condom.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Brenna said as she traced her fingers over the lines of my tattoo, lighting me on fire. She lay back on the couch, pulling me with her. “I’m on the pill. Safe.”

“I’m safe too,” I managed to say, already anticipating the feel of her without any barrier between us. I couldn’t resist the overwhelming urge to claim her as I nudged her legs apart with my knee. “You’re mine. Now and always.”

“Yes. And you’re mine.”

With a deep, rough growl, I rammed into her warmth. Her heat enveloped me completely. And in an utterly new way. Brenna’s moans grew louder, matching my own as our bodies moved in perfect synchronization. My desire built with each deepening thrust, my movements becoming more urgent and desperate. The sensations were so raw, so intense, I could hardly stand it. Brenna’s nails dug into my back as she cried out. The sweet pain only fueled my desire, sending shock after shock through my entire being.

This wasn’t just sex—it was catharsis.

It was two souls cementing their bond, using a language older than words to express what they felt. We continued to move together, our bodies speaking a rhythm of desire and need. And so much more. As her hands gripped my hips, pulling me deeper, I could feel every beat of her heart echoing inside me.

She latched onto my shoulder with her teeth as she moaned my name, her voice hoarse. When her muscles tensed, her body convulsing around me, I was close too. I thrust harder, deeper, and at last, she shuddered beneath me. Arching into me, her mouth opened in a wordless cry.

The sight of her climax was enough to send me over. Every muscle in my body tensed and then released in a euphoric rush. I clenched my eyes shut and drowned in the intensity of the moment, feeling her body respond to mine like we were meant to be together .

Because we were.

As I was overcome completely, a guttural roar escaped my lungs. Brenna’s name fell from my tongue like a prayer.

Afterward, with her head on my chest, I traced lazy patterns on her back as we lay on her couch. The heat of the moment had cooled to a warm ember, but the fire she ignited in me was far from extinguished. It never would be.

I stared at the book with its worn cover. “I need you to know something. No matter what happens with our families… I’ll be here. I’m not going anywhere.”

“I promise you the same.” Brenna lifted her head, her green eyes catching the moonlight. Then a stunning smile rose on her face that made my breath catch. “But, Hunter, I don’t think we’ll need to worry about that.”

“Oh?”

“Both of our families are tired of holding onto old grudges. They’re ready to move forward, just like us.”

With a grin that held no dark shades, only light, I pulled her closer. “So you know what this means, right? Romeo and Juliet got their happy ending after all.”

We laughed together, the sound harmonizing with the distant, gentle breeze outside. In this room, in this moment, and for all those to come, the world was ours.