Heathen & Honeysuckle (Pacific Shores, #1)

by Sarah A. Bailey

“You remind me of honeysuckle. Nectar sweet as honey, like the sound of your voice. But the berries are deceiving–poisonous if consumed.” He shrugs playfully. “Beautiful and deadly.”

“That boy is a heathen. If you’re smart, you’d stay far away from him.”

“I want to bring you with me because you scare my ghosts away, Darby.”

I squeeze her hand four times. I’ll. Keep. You. Safe. We jump together, free-falling into the abyss.

“Don’t ever hide your smiles from me, honeysuckle. I need to see every single one, especially the ones I put there.”

She doesn’t just taste like honey. She’s sweeter. Her lips taste like the answer to every question I’ve ever asked. Her lips taste like finding faith, like realizing you believe in God for the very first time.

“I think I might wait my whole life for you to come back, Darby. Something tells me there would be no point in trying to move on from this because I’d end up searching for you in every place I go. In every person I meet. Aimlessly wandering until I find you again.”

“It represented a piece of you that would always belong to me. If I couldn’t have you. If I never got to see you again. If you…” He sighs. “If you went on to marry someone else, love someone else, give the rest of yourself to another person…” He reaches up to grab the ring hanging at his chest. “I’d have this. I’d have this piece of you, this reminder that at one point and time, you were mine. It’s a reminder that I know what love is. That I have been loved, even if I’m not anymore.”

“You’re still the sunlight shining through the cracks of my shattered soul.”