Home > Crashed (Driven #3)(130)

Crashed (Driven #3)(130)
Author: K. Bromberg

“Your brother is something else,” I say affectionately.

“Yeah, I think so,” she says with a laugh. “But then again, love will do that to you.” Her eyes well with tears as they meet mine, and I see a softness there, an acceptance, a thank you.

Kyle interrupts our silent exchange by shoving another box toward me. “Open it, open it!” he says. “You have to give the right answer to get the next clue!”

I slide the lid off the box and start laughing when I see a set of sheets, sheets with the alphabet on them. Quin looks at me oddly and says, “I sure hope there’s a good explanation for that one because it seems rather odd to us outsiders.”

“Oh there is definitely a good explanation.” I laugh, impressed that he didn’t forget anything on this scavenger hunt. I look over at Kyle. “Nothing between us but sheets.”

“Woohoo!” he says, jumping up and almost knocking over the table. Quinlan steadies the table and wraps an arm over his shoulders with a laugh. “She got it right!” he tells Quin. She responds with a nod and he hands an envelope over to me.

“Should I open this?” I ask, although my fingers are already itching to rip it apart.

“Yes!” he cries, startling other patrons in the restaurant.

I tear it open and read the note inside:

Ry- I knew more than ever when I couldn’t have you, how much I couldn’t live without you. I might not have said it with words, but I thought about it often. Where were we when we talked about “Nothing between us ever again except for sheets?”

I feel like I have a permanent smile plastered to my face as I say my goodbyes and make my way back out to Beckett in the waiting car. “Well?” he asks with a tilt of his head.

“Broadbeach Road!”

We head up the coast, and as we draw closer, my excitement rises. I’m certain Colton is waiting for me.

As we drive down Broadbeach, I’m excited and nervous and every emotion in between. The gates open before we reach them, and I don’t even give Beckett a chance to stop completely before I’m out of the car and running toward the front door where Sammy stands.

“Hi, Sammy!” I say almost out of breath as I wait for him to move away from the door.

“Don’t you want your next clue?” His deep voice rumbles and I think my mouth falls lax and shoulders sag because I thought there were no more clues. I thought I was in the homestretch and on my way to see Colton.

“Sure,” I force out. Without thinking, I suddenly cover my face to block it from whatever Sammy is throwing up into the air. For a minute it doesn’t register with me. The tiny sparkles of silver reflecting against the sun’s rays and then it hits me. Every part of my body stands at attention as goose bumps blanket my body. And it seems so funny really, that this strong, intimidating man is standing amid a rainfall of sparkle. It’s priceless in more ways than one, because it’s glitter in the air.

The sob strangles in my throat as a smile spreads across Sammy’s face as he holds out a box to me. I take it from him, words robbed and, my heart tumbling fearlessly. When I open the box, the tears I have held don’t stand a chance because inside is a coffee mug filled with sugar cubes.

And it may be corniness at its finest but the thought that Colton heard me that night, heard me tell him the significance of the bridge of Pink’s song and is saying it back to me right now on top of all of the other gestures he’s made tonight wrecks me.

Undoes me, lays me wide open, and completes me with a single, ugly pink coffee mug filled with sugar cubes.

“So?” Sammy asks, trying to suppress the grin on his face at my overemotional reaction to this tacky clue.

“You called me sugar,” I tell him with a wavering voice and a smile on my face.

“Attagirl!” He laughs and steps aside, opening the door behind him. “Last clue.” My eyes flash up to his. “Go where you first heard this with Wood.”

“Thanks, Sammy!” I yell over my shoulder as I run like a madwoman through the house and up the stairs. My heart is pounding and my hands are shaking and my mind is reeling, desperate to see him, touch him, kiss him, thank him, but when I reach the patio it’s empty except for hundreds of lit candles sprinkled over every imaginable surface.

I gasp at the beauty of the soft lights twinkling amidst the darkening sky as I walk into the upstairs terrace. I run my finger over the top of a chaise lounge as I hear Glitter in the Air floating softly on the speakers above and laugh.

“Fuckin’ Pink.” It’s his amused voice, that rasp that washes over me, holding me a willing hostage, and as much as it startles me, it makes me feel at home.

“Fuckin’ Pink,” I repeat as I turn to face Colton—the man I love with all of my heart—standing before me with the sunset at his back haloing his dark features in its soft light. So many emotions surge through me as he stands there, hands shoved deep in the pockets of his worn denim jeans, his favorite T-shirt covering his shoulders leaning casually against the doorjamb, and that half-shy smile that melts my heart gracing his lips.

“Did you have a good day?” he asks casually as his eyes rake up and down the length of my body, his tongue darting out to wet the lips he’s fighting not to turn into a full blown smirk.

And God how I want to run into his arms and kiss him senseless, my body vibrating with both an emotional and physical need so strong that I squeeze my hands around the coffee mug to prevent myself from giving in. “I was kind of sent on a wild goose chase, but I’m pretty sure I’m right where I belong now.”

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