The One That Got Away by Kerrianne Coombes Page A

the
implication she slept around and fucked often bloody hurt. It felt
like an electric bolt to her soul. Cammy looked away, too hurt to
speak. She climbed off the bed and snatched up her jeans again. This
time she didn’t fumble or tremble—she was pissed off—and
the adrenaline from that helped her to get dressed fast. Just as she
dropped her hand on the door handle she turned.
    Will
stood as he had before, fully naked and glaring at her with
cold…hurt? She watched as he bent down and picked up his
jeans. He stabbed his legs into them and stood tall. He crossed his
arms and Cammy stared as his jaw bulged from the strain he put on it.
    “ Tomorrow
I’ll go to my father’s grave, and then I will leave.”
He uncrossed his arms and took a couple of steps closer to her. She
stood stock still as her heart throbbed wildly; he lifted his hand
and touched her cheek. She wanted to lean into his hand, his warm
touch, but the dark emotion that shone from his stare stopped her. He
turned away and left her standing gripping the door as if she would
collapse without it. “Thanks for the…” She watched
his shoulders tense and his hands clench; with his back to her she
could not see his expression. “Thanks for the fuck, Cammy. It
was well worth the trip home,” he sneered before he walked into
the small bathroom and closed the door.
    Cammy
stared woodenly at the closed door and wondered if she could die from
the pain that welled inside her chest. She fought for breath as the
wind was sucked from her lungs.
    She
didn’t understand what had just happened, but she knew she had
hurt Will’s feelings. God knew, he had hurt hers.

Chapter
Seven

    Will
stood at his father’s grave and stared down at the simple cross
that sat on the ground marking his father’s final resting
place. There was a cold chill to the air that nipped at his skin and
whispered through his hair. Will stood and glared at the grave and
wondered why the fuck he cared.
    The
old man had been the bane of his life until he left—and even
after that, Will had often found himself worried about his father. He
had sometimes wondered who was taking care of the old drunk. So much
so, sometimes he had picked up the phone and dialed his number and
waited for the drunken, “What?”
    Over
the years the worry had abated; over time Will had thought less and
less of him. But now, standing at his grave, Will couldn’t help
but feel guilty for leaving the old man to die drunk and alone.
    “ I’m
sorry,” he whispered into the cold air. The words were snatched
by the wind and Will allowed himself to imagine they had been taken
to his Dad.
    He
looked up and over the small village, and let out a strained sigh.
His gaze wandered over the mostly green view, until his eyes fell
upon the pub—Cammy’s pub—and his heart suddenly
hung heavy.
    What
happened last night? he wondered, not for the first time. Last night had been perfect,
everything Will had ever dreamed, until Cammy had gone cold and
almost ran from the hotel room.
    He
dropped his gaze to his father’s grave, and he realized he
hadn’t really returned to say goodbye to his father—although
now he had, he felt better. No, he had returned to see Cammy again.
In his heart he had hoped she hadn’t moved away. In his heart
he had hoped she was single and available.
    He
had never imagined it could be true. He especially had never imagined
he would get a night like last night with her. His mind played back
the image of her sexy tattoo, and his pulse kicked. She had been wild
and wanton. A perfect amount of kitten for his sex and she had driven
him crazy—just as she had when he was eighteen. She had been a
raging inferno in his veins and he wasn’t sure he could walk
away.
    He
stared down at the pub, and his chest suddenly drew tight. He
remembered her harsh, crude words about what they had enjoyed. Will
had never once thought of their love-making as a mere fuck.
    He
cringed again as he remembered when she had