by Wendy Cole
“Bard?”
He paused with the fork halfway to his mouth and looked at me.
“I don’t know the Heimlich maneuver. Just thought you might like to know that.”
He stared at me for a full minute, then snorted and went back to his food as if I hadn’t said a word.
Okay, then. I continued to watch him while I took much slower, much smaller bites from my first plate.
Within five minutes, he cleared his second plate and got up again. I thought he was going to put his plate into the sink, but no. Bard added more, and by more, I mean a pile. Then he sat back down and resumed shoveling.
“Does that mean it’s good or were you secretly starving, and I didn’t know about it?”
He nodded. “It’s good.”
I shook my head and stopped watching. Well, at least I now knew why the fridge was so stocked. Then again, Bard was a monster, so it made sense.
I’d just finished mine when Bard grabbed it from in front of me.
“You still hungry, Tequila?” He walked to the stove.
“No, no,” I waved my hands, then slowly added, “I’m human.”
Bard laughed, big and throaty, and a wave of pleasure reverberated through me at the sound.
“You want some dessert? I got ice cream.” He shot me a wink and started on the task of washing our plates.
“No way. I’m stuffed.” I got up from the table to put the leftovers away.
There weren’t any.
“Did you seriously eat an entire meatloaf?” I gaped at the empty pan.
Bard laughed again. He was doing that more and more lately, and it bothered me. It was too sexy, too tempting. I needed to stop eliciting these reactions.
“You surprised me, Tequila.”
I smirked despite my negative thoughts. “There are a lot of things you don’t know about me.”
I gathered the empty pans and brought them over to the sink.
Bard stopped me from washing. “I’ve got it. Why don’t you go pick out a movie or something. It’s too late to do much else.”
“I can help.” I snatched the pan from his hand. “I wash; you rinse and dry.”
His lip twitched. “Yes ma’am.”
The kitchen was small, so doing the dishes together put us much closer than I’d realized it would.
We worked silently. I’d pass him a dish and our hands would brush. With every slight movement, our bodies would make contact from our elbows, forearms, hips, and legs.
Each touch thickened the atmosphere. The tension was there, and as much as I hated to admit it, I couldn’t just pretend it didn’t exist.
The attraction between Bard and I was palpable. He wanted me, and dammit if I didn’t want him. Who wouldn’t? The man was enough to corrupt a nun.
Even so, there was no way I could let it happen.
Bard was amazing. Unbelievably, otherworldly, and impossibly sexy. He was sweet, protective, resourceful, and strong. He was everything. If it wasn’t for Drake, I’d have fallen for him in a heartbeat, wouldn’t have even paused.
But thanks to Drake, I knew better.
When I met him, he’d been sex on a Harley, and every girl’s idea of Prince Charming.
He’d bought me gifts, given me compliments, and doted on me like I was the most important person in his world.
I’d been in deep. My love for that man had been so strong that even after things went bad, I didn’t let go of it.
Drake abused me for years before I stopped loving him, and he was nothing compared to the man Bard was.
What would happen if I gave in? If I let myself succumb to this attraction?
I cut my eyes over to the center of my turmoil who was standing right beside me, unaware of the internal war he’d caused.
I’d love him. I’d love him a million times more than I’d ever loved Drake. I knew it. I didn’t even need to think about it. He was more.
If I let that happen, when things turned south, I’d never stop.
I’d never walk away. It would be impossible, and I’d become that girl again.
Bard put the last dish away and turned to me. “Movie?”
“I’m tired,” I lied. My mood was morose, and I suddenly felt lonelier than I’d ever felt in my life.
Bard didn’t turn away or offer to show me where I’d be sleeping. He studied me, eyes searching, probing, reading my thoughts.
“Come on.” He flicked his head towards the door. “I want to show you something.”
I chewed my lip, looked at the door, then back to him. This was his house, and he was doing me a favor by helping me. The least I could do was not be a bitch, so I nodded, if reluctantly.
Bard led me outside. The day had given way to night, painting the tree-filled yard in a darkness I’d never seen before. It was ominously eerie. I remembered him saying there were bears in the woods and, out of instinct, I took a step closer to him.
“I’ve got you,” he said, his voice soft. He looked down at me, then wrapped my hand in his and led us further away.
I let him be my guide, let his calloused hand swallow my tinier one, let his long legs pull me away into the unknown.
It wasn’t until the trees thinned, opening into a meadow, that I knew what he wanted to show me.
Stars. Millions upon millions of stars. They filled the sky with depth, surpassing anything I’d ever seen before in my life.
No street lights, neon signs, or high-rise complexes dulled them. They were everywhere.
I stared, mouth opened in wonder, up at the sky. It was beautiful.
“Amazing, isn’t it?” he asked, his voice smooth and rich, blending in with the earthiness surrounding us.
I nodded. “I’ve never seen them look like that before.”
Bard sat down onto the grass and motioned for me to sit beside him.
I paused but did as he asked, making sure to keep a space between us.
“You see there?” He pointed up at the sky. “The Big Dipper.”
I searched, but it all looked the same to me. “How can you tell anything? There’s so many of them.”
“Look.” He pointed again. “It looks like a big ladle: the way the stars are.”
He scooted closer and leaned around me, putting his arm level with my line of sight.
My heart rate picked up, a steady thudding inside my chest. It was so rapid I was sure he could hear it. This man, the setting, all of it, was almost too much. It almost broke me.
“Do you see it?” Bard asked, pulling me back to what he was trying to show me.
I followed his arm, and sure enough, there it was, a ladle. I smiled. “I do.”
Bard hummed. “The bottom of the bowl, if you follow it.” His finger traced the stars. “All the way over.” His voice was quiet, and his breath caressed the curve of my ear. “There,” he pointed, “that’s the Little Dipper. Can you see it?”
I saw it, but I didn’t give a shit about it, not with this man so close to me. “Yeah.”
Bard turned to me, and his eyes swept over my face for a moment before he turned back away. “See the handle? The very last star…that’s the North Star. If you can find that, you’ll always know which direction you’re going.”
I found the star he was talking about. “You are never lost,” I whispered.
“Exactly.” He faced me, and I was lost.
Those eyes. The way his smooth voice caressed my mind as he showed me his world. I was lost.
“Bard?” My voice sounded breathless, unsure, almost fearful.
He saw it all. “Are you ready to head back?”
I nodded.
“C’mon.” He stood and reached a hand down to help me to my feet.
Different sounds filled the silence between us on the walk back; hooting owls, rustling leaves, chirping insects. It was another world, far away, like I’d left and gone into a new realm.
It felt secluded and off the grid, probably because it was, but it was new to me. Safe. A million miles away fro
m the club, from prison, from him.
“Thank you,” I whispered just as the cabin came back into view.
Bard stopped and turned to me. “No, Tequila. Thank you.”
I snorted. “For what? I haven’t done anything for you but cause trouble.”
Bard’s intense eyes returned and cut right through me. “You’re my North Star, Jessie.”
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
My heart clenched as if he’d literally reached into my chest and grabbed it. It was the most beautiful and meaningful thing anyone had ever said to me. I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t move, not when any movement made would have been towards him.
I stared at his face, his sharp eyes, and that easy expression. I wanted to tell myself he’d said it so he could work his way in; that it was just a line and nothing more.
But I couldn’t do that either.
Because it wasn’t just a line. Bard meant what he said. It was in his eyes, his stance, the way his smooth deep voice had curled around the words. It made me feel, and that terrified me.
“Bard…”
He shook his head. “You don’t have to say anything. I know it’s a lot for a man to say. I just…I wanted you to know.”
His arm circled around my shoulders, and he guided me the rest of the way back in silence.
You’re my North Star, Jessie. The words kept replaying over and over again. Each time, I’d lose my breath, and the wall would crack and chip. You’re my North Star, Jessie.
I analyzed it; ran over every layer of meaning. You are never lost. Not in a physical sense. Not like being dropped in the woods. In life. Like a girl on the bad side of karma running from her own death. A girl who never had a real life.
A man who had his entire world ripped away from him. Who spent his nights in a bar drinking to forget. Who locked himself away from the world until…
You are never lost.
My eyes stung. Emotions filled my chest until I was sure I’d burst apart. They choked me, clogged my throat. The air grew heavy and thick.
Bard led us into the cabin, and I pulled away from him. “I…I’m tired.”
He studied me with an expression so soft it threatened to push me over the edge. He motioned with his hand. “Alright. C’mon, and I’ll show you the bedroom.”
I followed behind him, my mind on repeat. You’re my North Star, Jessie. You’re my North Star, Jessie.
My heart lurched each time.
Damn him. Damn him for being so much…more!
Bard led the way through the living room and to a door around the corner.
I let my gaze wander as we stepped inside. A queen-sized bed sat in the center, matching an old wooden dresser to the right and a solitary nightstand to the left. A guitar sat propped in the far corner. It was covered in dust. Three shotguns hung on the wall to the left, and a bow and arrow on the right. Patchworked quilts covered the bed, and more photos lined the walls.
“This is my room.”
I turned to look at him, then scanned the area again.
“Goodnight, Tequila. If you need me, I’ll be right on the other side of this wall on the couch.”
I stopped him. “The couch? You don’t have another room to use?”
He paused with his back to me and gave one stiff nod. “I can’t stay in it.” His voice was hoarse.
The pain hit me as if it was my own.
“I’ll sleep on the couch, then. It’s too small for you.” I tried to move around him.
Bard spun back around and blocked me. “No. It’s fine. Take the bed.”
My hands landed on my hips, and I narrowed my eyes. “Bard, you are too damn big for that couch. I’ll be fine.”
His mouth twitched. “No way am I going to take the bed, Tequila. What kind of man do you think I am?”
“An annoying one.” I tried to push him out of the way.
It was like pushing a bulldozer.
Then everything happened so fast.
Bard reached one arm back and pushed the door shut. He reached forward, wrapped me up, and maneuvered us until he’d successfully caged me against it.
“You are so fucking stubborn.” His tone was biting, but his lips kept twitching, and his eyes seemed almost lit from within.
“I’m stubborn?” I gaped at him. “You’re the stubborn one!”
“Is that right?” He smiled, hitting me with the full force of it. It was blinding.
My mouth clamped shut, and I stared at him. He was so beautiful. I was a stupid ass little fish all over again.
“Jessie,” he murmured, his voice low and smooth. The smile dulled to a soft tilt. “Take the bed.”
I snapped out of my daze and glared at him. “No! I want the couch!”
His gaze roamed my face as if committing me to memory: from hairline to temple and from temple to jawline before it settled on my mouth and lingered.
I was lost. Why did he have to look at me like that? Why did he have to be so much... more?
I cleared my throat and took a deep shuddering breath. “You…stare too much. Remind me to never get on your bad side. I’d hate to have you giving my description to the cops.”
His eyes never left my mouth. “You could never be on my bad side, Tequila.”
My heart rate picked back up to a dangerous tempo. Too much more of him, and I’d end up in cardiac arrest. “Let go Bard.”
“I’m not touching you.”
“You’re too close.” I tried to wiggle my way out.
Bard laid a hand flat against the door on either side of my face, then stretched back to leverage his weight against it, his face level, eyes sharp.
“I disagree.” He leaned forward, pressed one soft kiss to my forehead, then settled back to look at me.
Any response I had melted into a puddle of what the fuck’s happening. Inside my mind, another Jessie was screaming at me. She was saying, Kiss him! Grab him! What are you waiting for?
Inner Jessie was a fucking idiot.
“You’re such a fighter.” His eyes blazed, and his bottom lip caught between his teeth in a way that made me clench my legs together.
I took another deep breath and swallowed hard.
“You want this just as bad as I do, but you’re too stubborn to let it happen. You fight me like you fight the world.” He slid one hand closer and ran a thumb across my temple. “It makes me want you more.”
“It’s safer this way.” My hand twitched at my side. I wanted so badly to reach out. I wanted to curl myself around him and hang on for dear life. I could live there; stay forever in this room, in his bed, wrapped in his arms, and the world would keep spinning around us until Drake and the past and every other bad thing turned to dust.
But what I wanted to do and what I needed to do were two different things. I pressed my back into the door, willing the wood to soften and gain me access to the other side.
The thumb on my cheek drifted down to my mouth and brushed across my bottom lip. Bard stared, fixated. “Let me kiss you.”
I sucked in a breath as if oxygen could strengthen me.
A chorus of resounding yes’s came from inner Jessie. Thankfully, the smarter version of myself answered.
“No.” It was hoarse, hitched, and lacked any and all conviction.
“I would never hurt you.” His voice was low and smooth. “He never deserved you.”
His face inched towards mine.
I was losing. Dammit, I was losing! I stared at his mouth, his perfectly formed mouth. It was so inviting, so tempting. It drew closer, impossibly slow. Those eyes, his eyes, stayed glued to mine, keeping track of my reaction, waiting for the moment I changed my mind.
Fuck! I’d never been saintly. Did I mention I wasn’t a saint? A groan of pure and utter frustration ripped out of me. “Fuck you, Bard!”
Then I jumped him.
My lips hit his with undiluted passion. The fire that had been building since the first day I saw him erupted like a volcano. It blew the earth apart and drenched it in fire, and
I welcomed the burn.
Bard’s chest rumbled, and he pulled me hard against him, but the control was mine. I was in charge, and my lips punished as they moved against his.
How dare you! They said as they took and pushed and demanded. How dare you make me feel this way!
Bard readily accepted all of it. Like a wild man, his fingers dug into my flesh, pulled me closer, as if desperate.
I sunk my nails into his back and offered him the same.
A sound more animal than man left his throat as he lifted my legs, wrapped them around his waist, and turned us with swift purpose towards the bed.
There will be no going back.
My brain snapped me back to my senses like a rubber band.
“No!” I pushed against his chest with my eyes wide and breaths heavy.
Bard leaned his head back towards the ceiling and screwed his eyes shut. His chest rose and fell just as rapidly as mine. Only, his was accompanied by much harsher sounds.
I wiggled and, with a groan, he relented.
He slowly lowered me onto the bed and took a stiff step back.
“Progress,” he rumbled, sounding more like he was speaking to himself.
His steps were quick as he all but ran from the room and shut the door firmly behind him.
I sat on the bed, breathing hard, fighting back a scream, and fighting not to go after him. Every limb protested my struggle. Every muscle ached with the effort. I lifted halfway up and stretched my hand out towards the door, mouth parted and vocals itching to call out to him. Dammit!
I couldn’t. I’d lost control, lost focus. It had been a moment of weakness on my part. I flopped back and buried my face into the pillow to muffle my cry of frustration.
Dammit.
I wanted him.
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
Bard swung his leg out. I dodged, then jumped to the side, and came back at him with a left kick. It connected with his hip, and he stumbled.
“That was good.” He motioned for a break
We’d been at this for two weeks, and I was getting better. Ever since the night I kissed him, we kept our distance. Or…he did.
I’d always kept a distance, but Bard…His whole attitude changed after that night. He kept things casual, never asked me to do anything with him besides train. Things weren’t intense when we did either, unlike the first time. His touches didn’t linger. He never got too close. It was platonic, completely professional. He drilled me, pushed me to learn the skills he was teaching, and never allowed so much as an inch of leeway.