Too Close to Resist

by Nicole Helm

  She sighed against his neck, relaxed against him. He knew it was wrong, but that had never stopped him when it came to Grace.

  “I want to talk to you, as I planned to yesterday.” She pulled away, her fingers trailing down his arm before she broke contact completely. It took every ounce of control he had not to grab her hand, not to kneel at her feet and hold on for dear life.

  “We can postpone it. I’m sure you’re tired. I’m sure—”

  “You said whatever I want, and I want to talk. I want to live my life regardless of what happened this morning.”

  Kyle swallowed and nodded. “All right.” Anything. Anything she wanted. Always.

  “I want to start with the fact that thinking about everything, God, everything, that’s happened in the past day hasn’t changed this one basic fact. I love you.”

  “Grace—”

  “No. No interruptions. I get to say my piece. You don’t get to say anything. Got it?”

  He nodded, because if he spoke an avalanche would come out. An avalanche of I love yous and promises he’d never be able to keep, no matter how hard he tried.

  Maybe you’re not trying hard enough.

  “He’s gone. For a while. This thing that’s been looming over my life for weeks, actually years, and I should feel relieved. Maybe I do, somewhat. But at the same time, he’s still there. Someday he’ll be released again. Will he burn down my house? Will he try to kidnap me? Will he succeed?”

  He wanted to talk, to stop her, to say he’d protect her, of all the idiotic things, but her look snapped his mouth shut. It wasn’t his turn to talk.

  “I can’t erase that. The fear that this all repeats itself in a certain amount of years. I can’t erase the violence in him, in you, in me, in life. I can’t scrub hard enough to erase all those bad things in my life, in yours. Nothing changes all the bad shit lurking out there. Nothing.”

  It was so bleak and dark. Words he didn’t want her to say, to believe even if they were the truth.

  “I’ve worked this over in my head for hours. Hours upon hours of the same damn circle. It’s all there, whether you’re in my life or not.”

  A light in the dark, for him. But not for her.

  “None of this is black-and-white or right or wrong. Not you or me or you and me—it’s all gray, and... He’s gone. He... They found a backpack in the shed with...” Her whole body visibly shuddered and only that defiant, strong-as-hell look kept him from wrapping his arms around her again. “Rope and things. It’s enough to put him away for a few more years, but he’ll be out again. This will never really be over.”

  His heart twisted, his lungs squeezing. God, if she hadn’t gotten into the house. If she’d been alone. All the what-ifs clouded his brain with fear and pain, but he knew she didn’t need that right now. So he forced himself to say something innocuous. “I’m so sorry. It never should have happened, but now he’s gone. He can’t hurt you anymore.” Kyle could, but Barry couldn’t.

  “But, see, that’s the thing. In a few years, he’ll be out again. Sure, maybe it’ll be as many as ten or fifteen, but he will be out again and I’ll have to live in fear again.”

  “Grace.” What could he do to make that not be so? Nothing. There wasn’t anything he could do about it, and that was a new sharp pain in his chest. One he’d just have to learn to live with, because there was no other option.

  “And you know that feeling. Maybe it’s different because you have more physical means to defend yourself, but you know what it’s like to wait around for the shoe to drop, and maybe I wish there was a way you could handle that without hurting your father, but I get it.”

  “You—”

  She fixed a steady gaze on him. Her eyes were shiny with tears, her face showing the aftereffects of crying, but she looked him right in the eye, stern and fierce. “You said anything I want. I want you. And I’m not taking no for an answer, so you might as well accept it.”

  He wanted to laugh. How could he possibly want to laugh right now? But he did. He wanted to laugh and never let go of her, of those words. “I... Of course I want you, too, but—”

  “No buts. The thing is, it’s not just about us having this thing in our pasts that’s similar. It’s more than just understanding, about being through what I’ve been through. When everyone in my family hints I should do more, you said I should do whatever made me happy. You told me I was brave and strong, and what’s more, made me feel it. You see me better than anyone, including myself, and I won’t deny myself that because I’m scared. I’ve been scared enough.”

  She was immeasurably brave and strong without him. But she wanted him, and he wanted her. Could that be enough? “Maybe I’m not as bad as I’ve always thought I was, but I don’t want to be the person who causes you hurt.”

  “Too bad.”

  “Grace.”

  “I love you, so I’ll hurt and that’ll be your fault sometimes. And sometimes I’ll hurt you and it will be my fault. I don’t think we can get around that.”

  It shouldn’t make sense, but it did. It shouldn’t heal or make him hope, but it did. That simple understanding that love would equal hurt, but not always, not solely. “No, I don’t suppose we can.”

  “But I don’t love you less because you hit your father. I don’t love you less because, the thing is, you don’t go around using your fists to prove a point or wield your power. You don’t do it because it gives you a perverse thrill. You did it to protect yourself, maybe not from harm, but from him making you feel any worse than you already do. I see your struggle and I don’t want to hide from it or pretend it away, I want to be a part of it. I want to be a part of you, even with all the things that loom in our future. I want to fight them by your side. Both our struggles, both our demons and fears. Together. Because you are enough, Kyle. You, as you are, are absolutely enough, and I love you.”

  He sucked in a breath. It was more than anyone had ever wanted from him, of him, and it was everything he ever wanted.

  He’d keep trying to be better, to avoid or circumnavigate his father’s hold on him, but if he failed, that didn’t make him Tony Clark. As Jacob had said, he was Kyle, and he got to choose who he was. For a long time he’d chosen a half-life, thinking that was the only way.

  He wasn’t going to punish himself any longer.

  “Say something,” she murmured, leaning into his shoulder.

  “I love you.”

  “Say something more.”

  He took a deep breath and took her by the shoulders, pushing her back until she had to look at him. Something more? He had a million words, hopes, fears. So many things, but they all jumbled together in his brain. Until her brown eyes met his. And then the words just kind of came together. “I want all those things, too. I want us to be together, to fight together, to love together. I want...all of it, and I’ll do my best to...to be...to be...”

  “Just be you, and I’ll be me, and we’ll survive anything.”

  Him. Just be him. A scary prospect when he’d spent too many years hiding from himself, but with Grace by his side, the fear receded. She’d seen him. All of him, and she was still here loving him. Wanting him to be with her. Which meant he had to be enough, just the way he was.

  So yes, together they could survive anything. He always had, he always would, and with Grace by his side it would always be better than just survival. Way better.

  EPILOGUE

  “TAKE THE PIE.” Mom shoved the Tupperware container into her hands. “Your father needs to watch what he eats.”

  Dad patted his stomach. “I watch what I eat. I watch it go right into my mouth.”

  Grace groaned along with Jacob, but Kyle— because he was a suck-up when it came to her dad—laughed politely.

  “Thank you for dinner, Mrs. McKnight.”

  “Anytime, of course. And we
’ll see all of you at the baseball game next week? We really think our boys have a chance to win. Jacob, bring the girl you’re seeing.”

  Jacob wrinkled his nose. “Well, I think Carolynn and I are over.”

  Grace groaned with her mother. “What did this one last, two weeks? What are you doing to these poor girls?”

  “You know, as my mother, you’re supposed to automatically think it’s the girls I’m dating, not me, that is the problem.”

  “Well, maybe the first few times, honey. But even a mother’s love can only blind her for so long.”

  Grace snickered and Jacob glared at her. “Well, on that note, good night, my amazing, wonderful family.”

  A round of hugs and good-nights and they were out the door. Life wasn’t perfect, but damn, it was good.

  “So should we place bets on if you’ll have a date for the baseball game next weekend?” Grace asked sweetly as they followed Jacob down the walk.

  “I’m done with women,” Jacob muttered, clicking the unlock button on his key. “You’re all crazy. The whole lot of you.”

  Grace flipped him off with a smile, then took Kyle’s hand and headed to the car. A little giddy with happiness, Grace leaned over and kissed his cheek. “Let’s head home, huh?”

  “Actually, there’s a stop I want to make.”

  Puzzled, Grace sat back in her seat. “All right.”

  Though she didn’t know what to expect, Kyle’s pulling his car into the trailer park he’d grown up in was so far from any possibility on her mind she couldn’t think of anything to say. He drove to the back, passing rows of dilapidated trailers and rusted-out cars.

  The sun was setting to the west, but the pink of the sky couldn’t pretty up the poverty or defeat in this place.

  Kyle stopped in front of a rusting blue trailer. Grace didn’t know if it was abandoned, but it sure looked it.

  “Get out with me?”

  Not knowing what else to do, Grace nodded and unbuckled her seat belt. She got out of the car and met Kyle in front of the hood. He took her hand, squeezed it and looked up at the rusty trailer.

  “This place controlled my mind for so long...even if I didn’t look at it that way. I just wanted you to know that it doesn’t anymore. Carvelle is part of my life.” He inhaled deeply. “Our life.”

  Our life. She loved the sound of that. Leaning her head on his shoulder, she was truly struck by how far they had come. To stand here, to understand each other.

  He cleared his throat. “I know you said you liked living at MC and in Bluff City, so if I’m off here let me know, but I thought maybe we could rebuild your house. Together. Like, for us.”

  Grace blinked up at him. In the fading light of day, his skin almost glowed. “You...you want to rebuild my house and move to Carvelle. With me?” Grace looked back at the trailer, then him. “Honey...”

  “If you don’t want to, we don’t have to. It was just an idea. I know there are many things you miss about living here, and I, well, I’m not letting it be a bad place for me anymore.”

  “Kyle, I...” Build a house. Together. She’d been so sure Bluff City was a better option, but she could picture it. A little house in Carvelle. Together. She smiled. “You’re sure about this?”

  “Remember when you said symbols had power? It’s kind of like a symbol. Building on that place. It’s not like it’d be far away from Bluff City, and it might be nice to have a place to ourselves.”

  “Yeah, it would.” Grace slid her hand into his. “A symbol would be good.”

  “So that’s a yes?”

  “Yeah. Yeah, it is.” And then she laughed, because this was all surreal. “Well, the town will have a thing or two to say about Kyle Clark and Grace McKnight shacking up.”

  “Will they, now?”

  “First, the cougar talk. I am older after all.”

  He laughed skeptically. “By two years.”

  “Small towns. You remember how these things are.” Though she tried, a straight face was impossible.

  And then Kyle pulled her into the circle of his arms and pressed his mouth to hers. Grace sighed into it. Happy. It had been a long time since she’d let herself be happy without worrying about what might happen.

  The what-might-happens threatened, but she pushed them away as Kyle rested his forehead against hers. Because no matter what happened, they’d face it together and find a way to survive.

  “Thank you,” he said, his voice low enough she almost didn’t make out the words. “Every forward step I’ve made has been because of you.”

  Grace blinked at the tears stinging her eyes. “I could say the same for you. Actually, I think we each did a little work on our own.”

  “Yeah, I guess we did.” He squeezed her hand and led her back to the car. “But I like the work we do together best.”

  Yeah, she did, too.

  * * * * *

  Keep reading for an excerpt from ALL FOR A COWBOY by Jeannie Watt.

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  CHAPTER ONE

  WAS THERE ANY way she could wear sunglasses all day?

  Shae McArthur tipped the dark glasses down and tilted the rearview mirror so she could see her eyes. Dreadful. As if she’d been crying all night. More like crying for a week, to the point that even if she wanted to cry again, she’d have no tears left. The last registry had been canceled, the last deposit surrendered, all the many details involved in calling off a wedding dealt with—to a degree. There was still the matter of informing friends and extended family.

  And the embarrassment. No, make that the flat-out humiliation.

  Shae lowered her head to the steering wheel, summoning strength. She wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed and shut out the world for...oh...ever, but she had a huge presentation that day, which she would give with swollen eyes. In an effort to distract, she’d slicked her long dark hair into a barrette at the back of her neck and worn a bright red dress and chunky jewelry, hoping to draw the eye away from her puffy face.

  Shae pushed the sunglasses back into place and opened the Audi door. At least she could wear them until she got to her cubicle. Forcing her lips into a semismile, she crossed the parking lot and pushed through the front door of Cedar Creek Enterprises: Guest Ranch Division—not to be confused with Cedar Creek Enterprises: Real Estate Division one door over.

  “Way to take surprise vacation days,” Gerald Bruffett muttered as he crossed in front of her carrying a presentation board.

  “It couldn’t be helped,” Shae replied.

  “Floral emergency?” he called back to her as he disappeared into the conference room. Shae ignored him and walked on. Her part of the presentation had been completed before she’d left for her sister’s wedding—and the worst day of her life—exactly one week ago. She was prepared. Sort of. The fine-tuning she’d hoped to do the past week hadn’t been done, but if there was one thing Shae was good at, it was winging it. Heaven knew she’d done it enough over the past year.

  “What happened to you?” Melinda Brody asked as soon as Shae walked around the cubicle wall. So much for red dresses and chunky jewelry—or sunglasses, for that matter—distracting anyone.

  “Allergies.”

  �
��Since when have you had allergies?”

  “Last Sunday,” Shae said darkly as she shoved her purse into the bottom drawer of her desk. Mel had known her for far too long to be fooled by a lame excuse. She’d also been her only friend to decline the invitation to become a bridesmaid, because she spent every moment of her free time studying for a law degree. Shae sat and pulled off the sunglasses, surprised at how shaky she was—she who breezed through situations ordinary people hung back from.

  She who had to tell her colleagues that the wedding was off.

  “Allergies, my ass,” Mel muttered as she returned to her keyboard. Shae swiveled her chair toward her friend, who was now focused intently on the screen in front of her, and moistened her lips.

  “Mel?”

  “Yeah?” her friend asked, still studying the screen.

  Reed called off the wedding.

  The words stuck in her throat. She was gearing up to try again when Gerald stuck his balding head around the wall, somehow looking both harried and smug. “Wallace wants to see you,” he said.

  Mel, who answered directly to the division manager, started to get up, but Gerald shook his head. “He wants to see Shae.”

  “Thanks,” Shae said with a frown and Gerald disappeared again.

  “Any idea?” Shae asked Mel. She hated going in blind if there was something she needed to know.

  Mel shook her head, her eyebrows drawn together in a faintly perplexed expression. “Not a clue.”

  Risa Lewis, Wallace’s associate, who, as usual, was wearing way too much makeup, smirked at Shae as she walked by. Risa always smirked at her, so that was no big deal, but this smirk seemed particularly self-satisfied, making Shae’s stomach tighten as she approached the open door of Wallace’s office. Something about this felt off, and when the division manager glanced up at her, all business, Shae’s midsection tightened even more.

  “Close the door, Shae, and have a seat.”

  Shae smiled, hoping it actually looked like a smile. “Thank you, Wallace.” She sat on the other side of the cluttered oak desk, smoothing her skirt.