Bane: A Curvy Woman Romance (Heroes & Heartthrobs Book 1) by C.L. Cruz

Author:C.L. Cruz [Cruz, C.L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: anonymous
Published: 2023-08-22T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 6

Bane

The Haven Falls Community Center door creaks slightly as I push it open. Inside, the organized chaos of the food and clothing drive unfolds, the murmur of conversations meshing with soft background music. Neatly arranged tables bear the weight of cans, clothes, and other essentials. Volunteers sort through the contributions while locals converse, each new arrival adding to the stockpile.

Despite the activity, my gaze narrows in on Desiree. Her camera is poised, capturing the heart of the event. The sunlight hits her just right, accentuating her curves and setting her chestnut curls ablaze. The sight of her—so engrossed, so beautiful—stirs memories of last night. Our shared warmth, the brush of her lips, the feeling of her against me—a whirlwind of sensation.

But mingled with these recent memories are older, more painful ones—whispers of goodbye, of unfulfilled promises, of waiting for a return that took years.

Shaking my head slightly to clear my thoughts, I approach her. "Getting some good shots?" I ask, my tone casual.

She looks up, surprised but pleased, and a hint of mischief lights up her hazel eyes. “Always.” She shows me a photo of a grinning kid with an oversized can of soup. It’s a good shot, candid and real.

“They remind me of us back in the day,” I comment, nodding toward the image. “Except you'd be trying to capture the moment, and I'd be trying to distract you.”

Desiree smirks. “You often succeeded.”

It’s said light-heartedly, but there’s an undeniable undertone, a reminder of the physical tension that’s always been between us.

The familiar chime of Desiree’s phone interrupts our connection. Her eyes dart to the screen, widening ever so slightly. A hint of worry crosses her features. She meets my gaze briefly, her look apologetic.

"I need to take this," she says, already edging toward the exit.

Without thinking, I move closer, my protective instincts kicking in. She steps outside, but from where I stand, the entrance's glass door gives me a clear line of sight to her.

I can't make out every word from her conversation, but certain phrases drift towards me: "...a few months," "departure," "next big assignment," and "preparations." Each snippet is like a punch to the gut.

She’s leaving again, I think, the weight of that realization pressing down hard. It feels like history is on the brink of repeating itself.

When Desiree returns, she immediately searches for me in the crowd, and when her eyes land on mine, she hesitates. She can read me better than most and probably sees the storm clouding my features.

"Everything okay?" she asks, her voice filled with genuine concern.

"Fine," I reply tersely, looking away.

Mr. Harmon, an elderly local known for his raucous laughter and endless stories, approaches us. Sensing my discomfort, Desiree tries her best to keep the conversation flowing, but there's an undeniable tension in the air.

Drawing me away from the main hall, Desiree leads us to a less trafficked corner near a window. "Look, about that call," she starts, her voice shaking slightly. "It wasn't what you think."

I raise an eyebrow, playing dumb.

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