Then There Was You

by Heather Thurmeier

  “Second rule: never pull back on the string and let it go without firing an arrow. That’s very important. Got it?”

  “Got it.”

  He pulled an arrow from the quiver and fed it through the arrow rest, then snapped it into place on the string. “Now,” he began, reaching his arm around her and clipping her trigger to the string loop. “This clips on here, then you tuck your finger behind the trigger so you don’t accidentally fire before you’re ready.”

  His hand rested on hers as he helped her pull the string back. “When your fingers brush your cheek and your nose touches the string, you’re all set. Now just look through the peep sight and the bow sight and line up the target with the green pin.”

  Sara made a few tiny adjustments with her position. “Okay. Got it.”

  “Now put your finger around the trigger, exhale, and shoot.” He stepped back to give her space. A moment later the arrow zipped through the air and hit the tree a couple of inches above the target.

  “That was a terrible shot,” she grumbled, lowering the bow.

  “Considering it was your first try and you hit the tree, I’d say it was pretty damn good.”

  “Really?” she asked, brightening a little.

  “Really.” He smiled. “Try again on your own this time.”

  She loaded another arrow, corrected her stance, pulled back, and fired. This time the arrow narrowly missed the target. She learned quickly. He was impressed.

  “Better,” he said.

  “So,” she said while taking aim at the tree again, “did you hit the tree your first try shooting too? Or did you take a while to find the tree through the forest?” She smirked over her shoulder at him, a new twinkle in her eye he hadn’t seen before, then turned back to the target and let the arrow go. This time it missed the tree altogether.

  “No,” he said simply, waiting for her smirk to grow, which it did. “I hit the target.”

  He picked up his own bow and shot three arrows in quick succession, hitting the bull’s-eye each time.

  “Show off.”

  He shrugged. “Practice. Your turn.”

  This time Sara took her time perfecting her stance and her aim. As he waited, his gaze skimmed her body. She looked like a warrior with the bow in her hands. Her chest sank with exhalation, the expression on her face serious as she studied the target through the sight. Flat stomach muscles went taut under her tightly fitted tank.

  Sara was nothing short of gorgeous standing there before him.

  Her excited yell brought him out of the haze he’d fallen into while watching her. He forced his gaze from her body to the large smile on her lips, then to the target.

  “I hit paper!” she cheered.

  She had. Her arrow still wasn’t touching any of the rings on the target, but she had hit the target paper. Not bad for someone who’d never even held a bow and arrow before.

  “Well done,” he said. “Let me grab our arrows before you try a few more.”

  He walked to the target and pulled their arrows out of the bark, separating his into the quiver hanging on his back. Dane twirled her arrows in his fingers, remembering the last time they’d been used. Years ago. He fingered the pink- and-purple fletching, embracing the memories as they flooded back.

  Sara took the arrows when he offered them, her fingers tickling his palm as she did.

  “So, I never took you for the kind of guy who would have a bright pink bow or pink-and-purple arrows. A bit girly for you, isn’t it?”

  “It’s my sister’s bow. This one,” he said, holding up the larger, fancier, camo-colored bow he’d used earlier, “is mine.”

  “Won’t your sister mind me messing with her bow? If she’s a good shot with this thing, I don’t really want to piss her off.”

  “If she were still alive, I think she’d be pissed you were touching her stuff. But since she’s been gone five years now, I think you’re safe.”

  The teasing smile fell from Sara’s lips. “I’m sorry. I wouldn’t have joked if I’d known.”

  “I know. It’s fine.” He came up behind her, placing his hands on her hips to put her into position again. Of course, he knew she didn’t really need his help this way again, but he just wanted to be near her. To touch her.

  The memories of his sister—the only family he’d had since their parents had died in a car wreck when they were kids—had been a hard reminder of how lonely he’d been the last five years. It was nice to have some company. And he hadn’t exactly made himself accessible to the local single girls in town, being that he lived out in the cabin and wasn’t overly social.

  Seeing Sara try some of the things he enjoyed yesterday and today, having her in his house the last couple of nights—it made him realize what he’d been missing out on all those years. Since his sister had passed, he hadn’t wanted to be close to anyone, but this situation they found themselves in had thrown Sara and him together. Maybe he was a tiny bit glad that it had.

  Sara met his gaze as he peered over her shoulder, his hands still on her hips. Her lips parted slightly as if to say something else but she remained quiet. She licked her lips instead. He suddenly wanted to lick them too.

  “Try another shot,” he said softly.

  She loaded another arrow into the rest and snapped it onto the string, then raised the bow. Her arms looked shaky as she held it up. She shivered against him as he slid his hands up her sides, then trailed them along her arms, finally covering her hands in his. It felt good to touch her again.

  “Steady,” he whispered in her ear. “Light grip. Pull back.” He dropped his hands to her waist again so that he wouldn’t be in the way of her shot. “Exhale. Aim. Release.”

  The arrow soared through the air and directly into the target an inch or so off from dead center. Sara sucked in a quick breath and lowered her bow.

  “Did you see that?” she practically squeaked the words, bouncing on the balls of her feet.

  “That was amazing, darlin’.”

  Sara spun in his arms to face him, smiling, clearly feeling triumphant at her hit even though it wasn’t a bull’s-eye. “I had a good teacher.”

  “I had a good student.”

  As much as he wanted to stay in that moment with her, the shadows were already getting long on the forest ground. It would be dark soon and they needed to be back before that happened. Her knee was basically healed, but he didn’t want to risk her walking in the dark and injuring herself again.

  “Try a few more times, and then we should head back. It’ll be dark soon.” He settled himself onto a tree stump and relaxed while Sara perfected her shot.

  Chapter Seven

  Sara rubbed her shoulder and upper arm while she leaned back into the couch. The glow of the fireplace gave everything in the room an orange hue. Even the hills on Dane’s large arms appeared tinted as he stirred the pot of venison stew currently cooking over the fire.

  She’d never cooked in a fireplace before, but Dane seemed quite comfortable with it. He seemed pretty comfortable with everything right now, including her. Like how he’d been calling her darling since the moment they met. Not that she minded. Every time he used that endearment with her, she felt drawn to him more.

  “Your arm bothering you?” he asked, joining her on the couch while the stew simmered.

  “Yeah. Between the recoil from the guns and pulling back the string on the bow, I feel like I got punched in the arm repeatedly. I hope I don’t have to defend myself any time soon because I may not be able to lift my arm again for a while.”

  “Let me help,” he said, motioning for her to turn her back to him.

  She hesitated. Did she really want his hands on her again?

  Sara sighed and turned. Yes, she did, even though she knew she shouldn’t want it. The fact was, her shoulders and upper arms were aching...and every time he’d touched her or had even been in her close proximity in the last two days, she’d wanted him. All of him.

  Dane’s hands were firm with the right amo
unt pressure to ease the knots out of her sore muscles. He worked along her shoulders, reaching his thumbs down between her shoulder blades in circles. She stifled a moan as he rubbed her biceps. Kneading pressure on her tired muscles felt so good. Knowing it was his fingers on her made it even better.

  Dane swept her hair all to one side and she tilted her head, stretching out her neck. He rubbed from the round of her shoulder all the way to the space behind her ear. The pressure stretching her tight muscle felt so wonderfully intense, she closed her eyes and let out a low moan.

  She stiffened for a moment when Dane’s lips pressed to her neck, but melted into his chest as he kissed the path his fingers had just taken. When his tongue flickered across her earlobe, she shuddered. Heat flashed through her body. His mouth was so warm on her skin.

  Dane ran his hand along her jaw, asking her to turn to him without using words. She did as he requested, pressing her lips to his. They were as soft and supple as she’d imagined. His tongue eased into her mouth, cautiously, tangling with hers. Sara rested her hand on his thigh, feeling as if she might slip off into oblivion without something tangible to hold on to.

  This moment isn’t happening. It couldn’t be real.

  She was in the middle of a crisis, not kissing a hot man she’d just met. Yet his lips were on hers, his tongue in her mouth, tasting her, and her body responded. Her mind clouded, losing focus, falling further away from reality to disappear in the moment.

  But she couldn’t let herself lose sight of her goals, not when her very survival depended on keeping her wits.

  Sara shifted back to sit properly on the couch, breaking her connection with Dane. Instantly, her head started to clear. She’d made the right choice stopping. She’d made the only choice she could. “Thanks. For the massage. It felt great.” As did his kiss, which was exactly why she had to stop.

  She didn’t need any more practice with various weapons or cozy cabins to sleep in or even massages from a hot man. Most certainly she didn’t need to make out with Dane on his couch like a couple of horny college kids. She didn’t need anything else to distract her from getting to the bunker after she’d been so detoured already. Dane’s hands on her body were another distraction to keep her from reaching her goal. His kisses were enough to stop her dead in her tracks. She couldn’t allow that to happen.

  Forty-eight hours had passed since she’d hit the road for the bunker and she was still so far away. Her family probably feared she was dead already. The plan had always been to make it to the bunker as quickly as possible and definitely within the first two days. She could imagine their worried faces as they waited at the bunker for her to arrive.

  Dane examined her for a minute before getting up and checking the stew again. If she wasn’t mistaken, she saw more than confusion in his eyes. But she couldn’t worry about that. She had to do whatever she could to stay focused. She’d already been at his cabin longer than she should.

  Tomorrow morning she was leaving and he was not allowed to come with her.

  ***

  Dane ate in silence. The venison stew turned out delicious, and he should have been enjoying it, but he couldn’t. Sara had been quiet since he’d made the mistake of kissing her. He almost wished he could take back that moment so there wasn’t the weird tension between them. Until he remembered the taste of her on his tongue, the feel of her lips against his...the weight of her hand on his thigh. Then he was glad he’d done it. Kissing her had been amazing.

  “Tomorrow morning I’ll leave first thing and let you get back on with your life,” she said, breaking her silence.

  “You don’t have to rush off. Stay as long as you like.”

  She dropped her fork into her bowl, letting it clatter loudly in the small space. “Are you going to try to talk me into staying again? Because I don’t want to hear it. I have to go. I’ve stayed too long. They’ll be waiting for me.”

  He shook his head. “I didn’t mean it that way. I meant you’re not overstaying your welcome, so don’t leave on my account.”

  She sighed. “I’m sorry to jump down your throat. I’m nervous and worried about leaving, but it’s not going to get any better the longer I stay here. I need to make the trip and get it over with.”

  “I want you to take the bow with you. And one of the handguns. You shot pretty well with both. And a knife. You should take a knife, too.” He finished his food and set his bowl to the side.

  “I’ll accept the knife, but I’m not ready for a gun, and I can’t take your sister’s bow. It’s too personal. But thank you for offering.”

  “If you’re going on your own, you need the bow. Your best shot was using it today, so it’s also your best chance at survival. Yes, it was my sister’s, but she’s not here to use it, and someone should. You should. I want you to have it.”

  “Thank you.”

  Sara stacked her bowl on top of his and took a big gulp of water. He’d felt a little spike of pride that she hadn’t even put up a fuss about eating the venison tonight. His cooking wasn’t so bad after all.

  “What are you going to do when I leave? Are you going to stay here?”

  He nodded. “For the time being anyway. I have everything I need right here, so I don’t see any reason to leave.”

  “I see a target,” she muttered.

  “A target? What do you mean?” If anything, anyone who came near his cabin was the target, but he certainly wasn’t.

  “You’re like a sitting duck in this cabin. You’re vulnerable on all sides and you have nowhere to run if people come looking to take what you have.”

  “No one is going to take what I have. It’s not the Wild West out here.”

  She shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. People who are desperate enough will pillage everything in their path if they think it will save them.”

  “We’re not exactly in the end of days, you know? I don’t expect to see villagers with pitchforks come through here on a supply hunt.” He laughed. She was a little ridiculous.

  “I do. And those two guys who came sniffing around here the other day? They know you have at least one gun, and I bet they’re smart enough to figure out that where there’s one, there’s probably more. You’re officially a target.”

  “For those two jokers? No way.”

  Her gaze penetrated into him questioningly. “Why are you so set on staying here?”

  He met her look straight on. “Why are you so set on leaving?”

  “Because I have family waiting for me.” She sounded as if she choked on the words.

  “I don’t. This cabin—my sister’s cabin—is the closest I will ever be to her. When I’m here, I feel like she’s here with me.”

  “Don’t you have parents you need to worry about? Isn’t there somewhere else you could go so you’re not alone to defend this place on your own?”

  “No. I don’t.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said, her voice quiet. “I didn’t realize your family was all gone.”

  “Well now you know, but I still don’t know what you’re leaving for.”

  “And I still can’t tell you.”

  “Why?” he challenged.

  “Because you’re not allowed to come with me. No one is. I’m supposed to go alone. It’s the deal. The plan. I can’t risk the safety of my family by telling you.”

  Dane grabbed their dishes and took them to the sink. He needed to be away from Sara for a few minutes while his temper calmed. He couldn’t believe what she’d implied with that statement.

  He washed the dishes in the sink he’d filled earlier when he’d run the generator, not caring the water was cold. It would work well enough and he didn’t have the patience to boil water to clean two bowls.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, coming up behind him. Her touch on his back was gentle. Much gentler than her words had been.

  “You’re sorry you can’t tell me where you’re going, or you’re sorry you insinuated I’m a risk to your family. Like I’m some kind of threat to you. Nice. I o
pen my home to you and this is what I get in return.”

  “I wasn’t implying that at all. It’s a general rule we decided on as a family. If your family asked you to do something, would you go against them?”

  “I don’t have a family anymore, so it’s a little hard for me to answer that question. If they were still around, they’d probably tell me I was stupid for offering my home, my food, and my weapons to some strange girl I found in the woods. The difference between you and me is, I wouldn’t have listened to them and left you out there. I would have still acted the way I knew was right instead of the way they told me to in some made-up doomsday scenario.”

  “You’re determined to stay in this stupid cabin forever. Why do you even care where I go? You wouldn’t come with me anyway, so what difference does it make?” She threw her hands in the air and walked out of the kitchen.

  He tossed his dishtowel onto the counter and went after her, grabbing her by the arm and spinning her around to face him. “The difference is that I trusted you these last couple of days and you can’t be bothered to offer me the same courtesy. Even knowing I have no desire to tag along, you still won’t tell me your big secret. Well, guess what? I don’t give a shit where you go or if you get yourself killed along the way. From now on, it’s your business, not mine.”

  Sara sucked in a sharp breath as if she’d been slapped. He turned and stalked to his bedroom, slamming his door behind him like a petulant child—but not quick enough to block out the sound of Sara breaking down into tears.

  Chapter Eight

  Dane paced until he couldn’t pace any longer. The silence coming from the living room was unnerving. Was she still out there? Had she left? He hadn’t heard the front door open, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t have gone quietly. And what if she had gone? His last words to her had been that he didn’t care if she lived or died.

  That wasn’t true. He cared a hell of a lot more about her than that. More than he should.