by Penny Wylder
“Anderson. . .” Her voice slices through my body and I cringe slightly.
Turing around, Cara is standing behind me, dressed like she's heading to some sort of gala in a long, tight blue dress, and six inch heels. Her hair is pinned back, and her eyes have a thick shade of gold covering them.
“Cara,” I say. That's all I have to say to her, and that's all I want to say to her. I don't even know why she's bothering to speak to me right now.
“Am I really seeing this?” She takes a step back, folding her arms over her chest. “Has the recluse come out from his hideaway on the mountain?”
“Yeah, good to see you too.” My voice is short and sarcastic.
She gives me a thin smile and squints her eyes. Her lip curls up, annoyed with my tone. Cocking out her leg, she adjusts her basket on her arm.
“I didn't believe it when I heard it. I didn't believe the wild man of the mountains would ever spend more time than he had to in town.” Her eyes drop to my cart, scanning the junk food and alcohol. “Well, good to see you're staying healthy.”
I notice her basket is filled with vegetables and seltzer water. I'm not surprised. She's always been a girl who worried about her appearance, especially her weight. It’s how she judges everyone around her, and she holds herself to an unrealistic standard. As much as I can’t stand her, I still pity her for that.
“Not all of us can eat like rabbits and still somehow survive.”
Cara's fake smile falls into a heavy frown. “And—”
“Excuse me,” Laney says, cutting in between us to drop some cans of corn beef hash and beans into the cart. Standing up straight, she rests her hands on her hips and glances back and forth from Cara to me.
“Laney, this is Cara. Cara, this is Laney.”
The two women look each other up and down, lids thinning, lips going taut. I can see the realization fall over Laney's face as it registers in her head who this woman is.
“So, this is Miss Mayor, huh?” Laney takes a step back with a smile on her face, her tone dry. “What's it like being the first lady of a doghouse?”
I can't help myself. I laugh out loud. The look on Cara's face is priceless. She's been called out.
Cara's lips turn brittle as she arches a high brow. “It's fine, better than living with a caveman.” She sounds like she's trying to hit us both with a million tiny razors.
And maybe before, she could have, but not now, not anymore. I don't feel the same as I once did. I haven't seen her in a long time. I've avoided her like the plague. She's the reason I've stayed away from town. She's the reason I've spent the last few years alone. She's the reason I've hated life.
But standing here, looking at her now, I feel nothing. I can see how stupid I am for letting her have any control over me at all. Under the harsh neon lights of the store, she looks like anyone else. Certainly not worth my time. Definitely not worth losing another second of my life over.
Laney steps to my side, scooping her arm around mine and hugging it tight. “To each their own.” She shrugs a shoulder, snuggling up closer to my side. “I do know one thing though, no one wants to live in a doghouse.”
Her hand runs down my arm, and I watch as Cara's eyes follow it all the way to the tips of my fingers. Slipping my arm around her waist, I tug her as close to my body as I can. Leaning over, I kiss her forehead.
Am I doing this to be an asshole? Maybe. But I think it's more about letting her see that my life isn't over because she isn’t in it. And I know that's exactly what she thought would happen. She didn’t just want to leave me. She wanted to leave me in tatters. She wanted to hurt me. And she did for a while, but now the hurt is just gone.
A flicker of jealousy brushes across her face. It's brief, a small, faint glint in her eyes, and gone as fast as lightening.
“Okay, well, I'd like to say it was good to see you, but I'd be lying. We all know that.” Cara whips around on her heels and storms off around the corner. She's gone as quickly as she appeared, and I'm more than happy to see her go.
Smiling at Laney as she pulls herself free, I say, “Well, I think you just ruined her day, so, thanks for that.” Playfully, I bump her with my hip.
“I owed you one,” she says, taking another step away from me.
I watch her move down the aisle, pulling further and further away from me.
It's like I'm seeing my future walk away and I don't like it.
I thought there was something growing between us, but every time I think we're on the same page, she pulls away.
What's gotten into her?
11
Laney
What the hell am I doing?
The second I saw little miss perfect smiling at Anders, in her sleek dress and fancy shoes, something came over me. It filled my belly like one hundred proof alcohol. I could feel the heat as it spread through my chest, causing my fingers to clench and my heart to go stiff.
And then when I realized it was her, the girl that had torn Anders's heart from his chest, stabbing it with her cold dead stiletto, and I couldn't help but be catty.
My heart is still beating from the sudden shot of adrenaline. I've never been so brazen and forward with someone before. It came out of nowhere, hitting me like a bull seeing red. And having just been with the man, my panties still damp from his cum, there wasn’t a chance in hell she was going to get away with insulting him right in front of me.
Woo! That wine I chugged is hitting me hard.
Standing at the check-out, the young girl keeps looking up at Anders with a little smile on her face. Whenever his eyes connect with hers, she practically falls over swooning. Rolling my eyes, I keep my thoughts to myself. She's just a kid, sixteen maybe. She’s not a girl I need to compete with.
What is it with women gawking at this man? Yes, he's gorgeous. Yes, he's tall, dark, handsome, with thick hair I can run my fingers through. . . But can't they see he's mine?
No. Nope. Not true. That's just the wine. Not mine.
The battle in my head distracts me and Anders has to repeat my name twice after he’s paid and the customers behind us are getting antsy to move up in line . I know I'm right; the wine is fucking with my emotions. The jealousy I feel, the anger, the annoyance of people admiring a man who deserves to be admired, that isn't who I am.
And Anders is not mine. These feelings aren't real, they can't be. It's too soon to feel a connection with someone else. I'm only two months out of a long term relationship. This is just rebound sex; it has to be.
Anders pushes the cart through the parking lot, and I'm looking down at my feet as we walk. I know he can tell something is wrong, but I'm not sure what to say to him. Do I even need to say anything? It's not like we owe each other these heartfelt confessions.
“Look who it is.” I hear the familiar voice coming from a car we’re passing.
Looking up, I see the woman from the bar. She's smiling at us, but I don't feel any of the jealousy that had taken me hostage inside the store.
Her smile is different. It's pleasant, friendly, it's welcomed in this moment of confused emotions.
“Candice. Long time no see.”
“Yeah, it is actually. I saw you every day for a week, and then bam! Nothing.” She cups her hips with a teasing grin.
“Well, you know,” he says, wrapping an arm around my side. “I've been helping Laney with some stuff, and just haven't had the chance to get to the Bear Claw.”
Candice grunts lightly as her eyes follow his arm and then lift back up. “It's no wonder Cara was parading through the parking lot like a vicious animal. She lost the best thing in her life, and it looks like her plan to make it so no one else would want you didn't work.” She laughs out loud, slapping her knee. “Looks like that blew up in her face. You deserve a nice woman with a good right hook.”
“Us?” I say, glancing between us wide eyed. “Oh no, we're not together.” Taking a step out of his grasp, I clear my throat. “But you're right, he does deserve someone who is going to tr
eat him right.”
Anders’s eyes stare at the empty space between us, and his hand dangles awkwardly for a moment. “Uh, yeah, thanks, Candice,” he says, taking his hand and running it through his hair. “Well, we got some frozen stuff here, so we should probably get going.”
She says goodbye to us and walks to the store, and the two of us climb into his truck. My hands are in my lap and my eyes are down. I want to look at him, but I can feel the tension radiating off his skin. He's upset, and I know it's my fault.
I just shot him down.
“Hey, look—” I start to say.
Anders starts the truck, and the loud engine silences me. “It's fine, don't worry about it.”
“No, let me explain, I'm not saying it—”
“Don't, Laney. I said it's fine.” His tone is angry and his mouth goes taut. He avoids looking at me as he drives out of the parking lot and onto the main road.
Neither one of us speaks the entire ride. Anders is focusing on the road, and he seems to be thinking deeply.
I'm watching the trees, and after a few miles, I see the road to my cabin come and go. I'm about to speak up when he realizes it too.
“Shit, sorry. I'm just so used to making this drive to my house. I'll turn around.”
“No, it's all right. Actually, I'd really like to see your workshop. You know, if you're still willing to show me?” Reaching out, I touch the top of his hand that's resting on the gearshift.
He flicks his eyes to mine, and I can see confusion flood his face. Either I like him, or I don't. I need to pick one. It's just hard for me. I don't want to make the same mistake twice. I don't want to give my heart to someone who isn't going to treasure it. But I also need to stop playing with his emotions. I’m just being a bitch at this point.
“Are you sure? Because I can turn around.”
“No, seriously, I want to see it. I really do. And it's cold enough out tonight that the groceries will be fine.”
He nods. “Okay then, my place it is.”
“World's weirdest day, huh?” I'm a little nervous as I speak, but I'm trying to lighten the mood.
Anders chuckles, twisting his hand around and braiding our fingers together. “Weirdest, no. Most awkward. . . It's in my top three.”
We're both laughing and it feels good as we turn up the long, snowy mountain road to his place. The trees grow denser and the moon is shining down brightly. His place is glowing as the moonlight reflects off the snow.
It's beautiful. My head is a little clearer now, the wine fog has lifted, and I feel more stable. His cabin is covered in a thick blanket of snow, and the snow is piled up high against the walls. It reminds me of a French chalet, tucked away from the world, hidden in the depths of the trees and buried in snow.
He parks the truck and climbs out. Opening my door, I jump out into snow so deep it almost hits my knees. I trudge through the snow, following him to the shop behind his cabin.
“See that?” he asks, pointing down at some animal tracks.
“Yeah, what is it?”
“Those are wolf tracks.”
“What?” I ask as I twist my head side to side frantically. “Wolf? There are wolves around here?”
“Don't worry, it's fine. They won't bother us.”
“Are you sure?” Running up close to his side, I grab his arm.
Anders laughs as he unlocks the door and pushes it open. “Let's see if the power is back.” Flipping the switch as he steps inside, the lights pop on. “Finally.”
He moves to the side and I walk in behind him. I'm blown away. It's not like I expected at all. I thought I'd see stacks of wood, sawdust everywhere, tools strewn about. That's not what I see at all.
Every tool is hanging perfectly above his workbench or nestled in a toolbox. Beautiful planks of wood are in neat piles, separated by color and type. Brightly colored glass is in different bins, and there are piles of thick iron strips.
“Wow,” I say, spinning around. “You and your dad built this?”
“Yeah, we built this place about fourteen years ago. Well, he built it, I was just his apprentice.”
“It's beautiful.” My eyes are jumping all over the room, and I'm running my fingers over the different wood grains and the smooth glass. “This is incredible. It's way cooler than I thought.”
“What did you think? That it'd be a pigsty?”
Shrugging a shoulder, I smirk. “Pretty much.”
“I proved you wrong then.”
“You've proven me wrong more than once already.”
Anders eyes jump to mine, and the way he's looking at me sends a tingle down my spine. I'm not lying when I say that to him. He's proven that not all men are assholes. That people can still be there for you when you need someone the most. That I do deserve to be happy and loved and treated like the princess I am. . .
Oh God, I'm falling in love with this man.
Breaking my eyes away, I move to a giant pair of doors resting on a couple sawhorses. “Holy shit, did you make these?”
“Yeah, those took me two months.”
I'm in awe of this man and what he can do with his hands. He’s an artist. He creates. He intricately designs. His work is both beautiful and functional. And the other things his hands can do, to me, leave me even more in awe. His hands give me pleasure, and inexplicably they make me feel safer than I’ve ever felt in my life.
My eyes move to a photo hanging on the wall. It's a man that looks like Anders, except his hair is long, dark brown, and he's in a pair of overalls with a skinny kid at his side. The two have huge smiles on their faces. The older man, whom I assume is Anders’s father, is holding a giant ax, and the kid, Anders I guess, is holding a saw.
Anders comes up beside me, his eyes settling on the picture. “That's me and my dad. That picture was taken right here in this spot before the shop was built.”
Leaning over, pinned right beneath the photo, is a hand drawn sketch of a mouse under a leaf during a rainstorm. The picture is signed by a woman named June, and it's dated July tenth, nineteen seventy-two.
Was this drawn by his mother?
Looking up, Anders eyes are steadily set on me. He takes a long step back and looks around the entire room. Letting out a heavy sigh, he fans out his arm. “Cara always wanted me to give this up. We argued all the time over it, but I just wasn't willing to let it go. I couldn't. She was always pushing me to join one of the local contracting companies in town, or to get a job in construction supply sales. But this is my life. It’s my past and I want it to be my future. Really I’d be lost without it.”
Reaching out my arm, I take his hand and pull him in for a hug.
I can't ignore the swirling force that's taking over my stomach, or the way my heart pounds when he's close. I love being in his arms, despite how much I might not want it to feel this good.
What is it about him that makes me want to drop my defenses and give him everything I have?
He holds me tighter, pulling me into his chest, and I let him. I bury my face in his jacket, smelling his cologne and feeling his beard tickle across my forehead.
“Stay the night,” he says, his voice is a whisper against my ears. “Please. I don't want to spend tonight alone.”
The words sit on the tip of my tongue. I'm so tempted to just blurt out how I feel about him. My heart knows it, my brain knows it, shouldn't he know it too?
Placing my hand in his, I decide to show him what I feel instead, and lead him back to his house.
If I can't say it, if I don't have the courage to put it into words, the least I can do is show him.
12
Anders
I sent Laney into the house so I could unload the groceries and put them in the kitchen. She told me she wasn’t afraid of the wolves I’d mentioned before, and insisted on helping, but when a coyote howled and she practically jumped into my arms, she took the opportunity to run inside.
By the time I walk up the steps to the loft, she's naked on my bed, her legs c
rossing back and forth over each other as she nibbles the tip of her finger. Her back arches slightly, and she runs her hand up her belly and over her tit.
This woman is amazing.
I know what I feel, I know what's running through my body, and I know it can't be real. It just can't. I've only known her a week, how the hell could this be anything other than a crush?
I've spent the last few years alone, and this little taste of having a girl at my side is invigorating. Being inside her is like a drug. A fucking drug that I want to inject into my body as much as possible. But what is she feeling? What is she thinking?
What does she want with me?
I'm a rebound fuck for her. There's no way it can be anything more than that. This can't be love. You can't love someone you don't know. You can't love someone you have no history with. I don't know her middle name, her birthday, her dreams for the future. . .
“Are you coming over here? Or are you just going to stand there with your mouth open?” She reaches out to me and beckons me in with a single finger.
Blinking a couple times, I realize that I'm just standing here gawking at her.
Smiling, I bite down on the tip of my tongue. It doesn't matter, none of it matters. How could I not love her? How could I not allow myself to feel this way? It's not fair to pretend like these feelings don’t exist.
And it really doesn't matter to me if she loves me back. I'll give her the moon if it means she'll stay with me. Even for just the night.
I'm not letting her go. I'll do what no one else has ever done for her. I'll fight to keep her.
Tearing my clothes off, I watch her eyes as they drop to my engorged cock and then shoot back up to my face. Her eyes light up and she bites the inside of her lip as I drop to my knees and grip her thighs. I pull her body to the very edge of the bed. Digging my fingertips into her skin, I peel her legs apart. She fights me slightly, with a little smirk on her face.