RUMORS

by Bellus, HJ

  I don’t say a word, but also don’t back down either.

  “She had two hits and it was her choice.” He jerks his chin. “She went on a walk behind the house. She’s fine out there, nothing is going to hurt her. I don’t know what in the hell is going on and I’m pretty sure I don’t want to either, but, son, keep your fucking head on straight.”

  I nod and turn to walk the back pasture to find Frankie.

  “I said there’s nothing out there to hurt her, Cray, but with you out there I’m not so sure about that,” Preacher adds.

  “The pussy is in love. Big daddy Sheriff Cray has his dick in a knot,” Truckee sings out.

  “Shut the fuck up, boy.”

  I glance over my shoulder in time to see Preacher pop Truckee in the back of the head. The big old dumbass just laughs harder. I can’t help the laugh that escapes me. As fucked up as the last week has been, my brother has been by my side. It doesn’t matter how annoying he is because Truckee was the one leading the mission last night. He had my back.

  I notice a trail of tall grass that’s been recently walked on and follow it. I know exactly what Frankie found. My favorite childhood place where hours were spent fishing, swimming, and building forts: the pond. Bingo. I see her on the dock and continue making my way toward her. I stop about ten feet before the beginning of the dock when Frankie begins shedding clothes until she’s left in a tank and panties.

  I glance over my shoulder, knowing damn well this is a private moment for her and I shouldn’t be here. Then I’m magnetized right back to her, forgetting all about wrong and right. It’s just her in my sight. I take a step toward the dock when she raises her arms above her head. The water is safe so I let her have her time while taking quiet steps in her direction never taking my stare off her.

  She pushes off the balls of her feet, arching up into the air and then enters the pond. Silence and rippling water fill the pond. I find myself smiling at her courage to take her life back and give it one hell of a try. The ripples begin to disappear and Frankie doesn’t surface. There’s no movement. I silently count to seven and then wait for a few more beats. When there’s nothing, I react, racing to the end of the dock while pulling off my boots, tugging my shirt over the back of my head, and slinging my cell phone and keys into my boots before I dive in.

  “Frankie!” I holler and still nothing.

  Inhaling a gulp of air, I dive into the water. My eyes burn as I do my best to keep them open and search for her. The water below the surface is just as still and clear as it was on the top. When I’m about ready to run out of air I catch something out of the corner of my eye.

  I thrust up with my legs swimming to the top of the water. I was unable to figure out what the movement was. I surface, gulping in air and get ready to dive back down when a wall of water slams me in the face.

  “What in the hell?” I wipe the water from my face.

  “I came up right when you jumped in, Cray.” Frankie brushes her short hair back with both of her hands and smiles. “I went down to find you but you were too deep.”

  Droplets of water drip off the sides of her face, trailing down her collarbone until the material of her top soaks them in. Her tits are pushed up by the water; so much perfect creamy skin exposed.

  “What in the fuck, Frankie?” I grit out, annoyed at myself for being strung so damn tight.

  She shrugs, tilting her head.

  “You scared the shit out of me,” I say in a mellower voice.

  “I wanted to feel the water. I jumped in.” She uses her arms in wide strokes to close the distance between us. “And you left me once we got here. I could tell you needed your space.”

  I mimic her action, swimming closer to her until we are inches apart but not touching.

  “I needed a second to get my head on straight, Frankie.” I scrub my jaw out of habit.

  “Your knuckles.” Frankie grabs my hand. “What happened?”

  I decide to be honest. “My head is fucked up. I tried to clear it by beating the shit out of a punching bag.”

  “How’d that work out for you?” she asks.

  There’s silence for a long time. Frankie keeps the question on the tip of her tongue. I know she wants to know why I needed to escape for a bit. There’s hesitation in her scrunched up brows, worrying she may not like the answer.

  “There’s no easy way about this. I’m falling for you. I have feelings. You’re eighteen and I’m damn near twenty-eight. I’m a sheriff and you’re barely an adult, and all I can think about is kissing the hell out of you and never letting anyone ever fucking hurt you. I want you all to myself.”

  I snag one of her arms she’s using to keep herself afloat. I lick my lips then place them on all of her scars on the inside of that arm, lingering on each one.

  The words should shock and scare the shit out of this woman who has been through hell and back. I should also know by now that nothing is predictable with her either. She doesn’t speak a word; her actions say everything I need to know as we cross that line.

  She wraps her free arm around my neck and both legs around my waist. I continue kissing up and down her arm. I let my lips linger all the way up to her shoulder; not missing the goose bumps that spread across her silky skin. I run my lips up and down her neck a few times; then lick the same path with my tongue soaking her in. My tongue traces the outline of her ear; wanting to memorize every part of Frankie. I nibble on the lobe of her ear.

  I want nothing more than to have my hands all over her. I lace my hand in Frankie’s above our heads and slowly bring it down behind my neck until both of her hands are clasped together, then swim toward the shore. Once my feet plant into the silky smooth mud, my hands go to her hips tugging her closer to me until our chests are pressed together and we are nose to nose. Her eyes are bright with life and desire, her cheeks flushed, and her full lips are a taunting temptation that I can’t avoid any longer.

  I’m the first to move. I’m the one taking full ownership of this sin, bringing it to life. I glide my lips along hers, relishing the feel of them. The kiss starts out tentative as we explore each other’s lips. Frankie’s tongue darts out, running along the seam of my lips. I do the same until she parts for me. I can’t get enough once I have her taste burned on my tongue. I bring a hand to her cheek, tilting her head to the side, gaining more access to her.

  Her light moan fuels me on. This woman has set me on fire and there’s no way it will ever be put out. Frankie’s hips grind against me; I don’t discourage it at all. Not gonna lie, it feels damn fucking good on my rock hard dick. I could blow in my damn jeans right here in a cold pond with this girl in my arms.

  I focus back on the kiss and what I’m claiming with it. As our tongues glide until they find a perfect rhythm, I know beyond a shadow of a doubt this woman has ruined me forever.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Frankie

  I run the pads of my fingers over my lips, still set ablaze from that kiss in the pond. It was so much more than a kiss. It was everything. Hours later and it’s still tattooed on my lips. The melted butter on the lobster tail in front of me tastes bland as do the garlic mashed potatoes. I’m certain Cray ruined everything for me.

  Opal was finishing up dinner when we returned in wet clothes. Truckee was dying to give us hell and tried a few times, but was stopped every single time by Preach. It didn’t take me long to realize their uncle Preacher may be the only man who can knock Truckee down a peg or two, and it all comes down to respect.

  I try another bite of potatoes and still they’re bland. I know it’s me because Opal’s cooking is amazing. There’s no way it can smell this delicious and have no taste. I begin twirling my fork mindlessly around on my plate. I jump when a warm palm covers the top of my thigh under the picnic table. It’s familiar and soothes the startle right away. Peering over, Cray smiles down at me and winks. He doesn’t move his hand during the meal, and the funny thing is—the potatoes suddenly have flavor.

  “Have a
surprise for you, tiger,” Truckee announces and winks at me.

  I have no doubt he caught the silent exchange between Cray and me. My cheeks burn a bright red just like he intended to. Before Truckee has a chance to carry on, a loud engine interrupts our conversation. All of our gazes go to the white Dodge truck with the words “Rock Bottom” in bold black on the driver’s door with an RB brand underneath. The horse trailer behind it comes to a halt with only the sounds of horse hooves stomping inside.

  “And there’s your surprise, tiger.”

  I glance back to Truckee, who tips back his longneck beer bottle and drains it. I’m confused as hell.

  “I’m not understanding you.” I glance back to the trailer.

  “Had one of my guys bring Pokey out so you could ride him. You could ride for hours out here,” Truckee answers me.

  “Really?” My eyes go wide.

  “Yes, grasshopper.”

  “Use her fucking name, that’s why she has one. You don’t need to be some word ninja. That shit just comes across weird as shit,” Preacher scolds, mid-pour of Jack Daniel’s.

  I don’t think before leaping off the bench, rounding the table and wrapping my arms around Truckee’s neck. It’s an awkward hug since he’s facing the table, but I don’t care.

  “Thank you so much, Truckee.”

  He pats my hands clutched on his chest. “Anytime, kid, anytime.”

  I don’t waste any time before I sprint across the grass toward my best friend. I can hear him stomping in the trailer, ready to get out. I don’t wait for Truckee’s man to open the trailer. I do it.

  “Hey, boy.” I step in, not caring that my Chucks will more than likely get horse shit on them. “Hey, you’re okay.”

  I reach out and give Pokey a second to sniff my hand. He calms right down allowing me to step up to him and wrap my arms around his neck. I take him in and all the beautiful things that come with him.

  “Those aren’t fit riding clothes.”

  I turn to see Truckee smiling wide at me.

  “I don’t care.” I untie the lead rope from the trailer and step Pokey off. “I haven’t ridden in years and when I did, it was just in the local arena. It was the only place my grandma and I were able to get him to.”

  “Got you a bag of clothes in the truck.” Truckee points to the cab. “Get him settled in and then you can change.”

  I don’t miss a beat, leading Pokey over to the barn. He’s wound up and unsettled, not knowing what in the hell is going on. I get that more than anyone at this point in my life. I stop every once in awhile and reassure him. By the time I have him tied up, he’s settled a bit but I don’t leave his side.

  Ironically enough, this animal and his spirit show me that I never should’ve left anyone in my life behind, but I did. I did my best to hole up and not show my face. I lost those years and never even thought about fighting for me.

  “I’m sorry, boy.” I lay my head in his neck and let the tears flow. Pokey catches every single one, not judging me in the least.

  I grab a brush from the wall and begin brushing him. Truckee worked magic on him the other day, grooming him and getting his hooves in shape. I get lost in time with my childhood best friend.

  “Hey.” I glance over my shoulder to see Cray with a black duffle bag of clothes. “I got some clothes for you.”

  “Thank you.” I hang up the brush and walk to him. “This is everything.”

  He nods. “It really is. Uncle Preach’s place has always been magical. I’ve never been able to put my finger on it.”

  “It’s like a place where all of your worries don’t exist.”

  “Yes, it is. Truckee, Saige, and I would always do our best to get our asses down here and then after it was just Truckee and me being angry assholes.”

  Cray doesn’t have to expand upon what they were escaping from or what the word after meant. I know and would never press him for anymore.

  “There’s a small stall over here that you can change in.” He points further into the barn. “Here you go.”

  I nod and grab his hand guiding him right to the direction he pointed me. I have no idea what makes me do it. The best way to even begin to compare is that I’m shedding layers slowly one at a time. There are so many to go, but I want Cray here. No, it’s more than a want.

  “Close the door.” I grab the bag from his hand.

  “Frankie, I can wait outside.” He takes a step back from me.

  “Yeah, you could, but I want you here with me.”

  I shed the red flannel button-up shirt Opal gave me, along with the tiny shorts.

  “Frankie,” Dalton whispers.

  I don’t respond but take a step closer to him. Cray remains frozen in place. I don’t stop, reaching behind my back and unclasping the bra before sliding the beige lace panties down my legs. I step out of them, leaving me bare before Cray, the man who helped me save myself.

  I reach out and grab his upper arm, leaning in to place a sweet kiss on his lips. Just the mere power that I have to be able to kiss him when I want is exhilarating. There’s no fear or threat of harm. I know that I can kiss him and nothing else can happen.

  “Cutting and scratching helped remind me of the pain and was a brutal reminder of why I had to stay in my room, even though I wanted nothing more than to be normal. Blood would flow and skin would rip and tear.” I rest my cheek on his shoulder and nestle into his neck wrapping my arms around his waist. And still, Cray doesn’t make a move. “It did the trick. The thing was I’d have to cover up those flesh wounds so Grandma and June wouldn’t see them. It forced me back further into my shell. The cycle became vicious and my norm until you.”

  “Me?” Cray’s strong hands go to my cheeks forcing me to look up at him.

  “Yes, you. You were the first person in that town to see through my charades. You knew that day in the center of town when Grandma was getting her award that something was wrong. You cared and you asked, not believing the ruse I tried to build.”

  “You were hurting,” he replies.

  “I was, and you were the one that screwed up my plans to end my life. You never gave up.”

  “It was my job,” he replies.

  “It was.” I rise on my tiptoes again to kiss him. The power is something I’ve never felt before. “The rest hasn’t been your job, but you’re here.”

  Cray finally moves to drop a hand down to my hip, digging his fingertips in with delicious pain. He dips his head to my jawline, dropping kisses up and down. I take a moment to enjoy every press of his full lips on my skin. I take it all in, courage building up with each touch until I’m ready to reveal my own truth.

  “Cray,” I whisper.

  He freezes, wanting to hear the rest.

  “I want to live again. I want my life back. I’m scared, but that’s what I want. I may change my mind in the next hour, but I so want it and…”

  He cuts off my rambling worries with a searing kiss to my lips. He doesn’t stop until he leaves me breathless and scatterbrained to the point I only see him. He brings his other hand up and clutches my face with determination and yet gentle love.

  “Then that’s what you will do.” He steps back and it guts me.

  He goes to the duffle bag, unzips it, and begins pulling clothes out of it. I stand here in shock and watch him as he produces a pair of sunshine yellow panties from it. Wordless, he bends down taking one ankle and sliding them up and doing the same with my other foot until they are in place. It goes like this in silence as he clasps my bra on and adjusts the straps on my shoulder. I don’t miss the light touches he grazes along my shoulders and lingering glances.

  I’m dressed in a matter of minutes that seemed like hours and no time at all. As Cray buttons my jeans, he stares into my eyes.

  “You will live, Frankie, and you will achieve anything you want.” He drops his forehead to mine. “That’s one promise I’ll never break.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Frankie

  “Slo
w down.” Cray’s voice drifts up to me.

  I look behind me and do the opposite, kicking Pokey into gear. The crisp air blows on my skin as Pokey and I blaze through the pasture. Once I hit a ridge I slow Pokey to a trot, a walk, then stop on top of the crest. I hear thundering tromping behind me, then silence, and there’s Dalton in all of his glory.

  The sleep lines have faded from the previous days’ wear and tear. His scruff is still intact and his smile sets me on fire. His rich whiskey eyes sear right through me. The man is so handsome.

  “Gorgeous, huh?”

  “I’d say so.” I wink at him this time, agreeing the landscape is gorgeous, and him for that matter.

  “I’ve always loved this land.” He readjusts the reins on the saddle horn, focusing his full attention on me and continues. “It’s always been my place.”

  “I could stay here forever, forgetting everything.” I swallow down the urge to ask him so many questions, knowing he’ll tell me when he’s ready. I know without asking that this place was his solace during some very dark days of his life.

  “I agree.” He nods. “This ranch and being around Uncle Preach makes you want to be the best person you can be. There’s something magical about it.”

  I nod, agreeing. I couldn’t have said it better myself. “Helps having this boy with me.”

  I pat Pokey’s neck and hop down, giving the horse a well-deserved rest. I know he’d keep running, feeling free himself. Cray does the same as we meet in front of our horses, each holding a rein in our hands. I do my new favorite thing and that’s kiss this man.

  I don’t think twice about it before sealing my lips to his full ones and taking full advantage of him. Cray bends down, allowing me more access and cupping my cheek with his free hand. We don’t move or take it any farther than kissing until the sun spreads and colors the sky with gorgeous hues of pinks, purples, and oranges. It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever witnessed and felt.