by Leanne Davis
Dani! Instantly, we break apart and glance down. She was pushing herself to get between us and instead, Wyatt knocked her down. She is sprawled on the cement floor.
Wyatt panics. He instantly forgets me and springs over to her. He’s beside her, kneeling, and trying to hug her. “Oh, God, Dani! I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to! Are you hurt? Shit. Shit. Shit!”
He’s tripping out. His hands are gentle as he tries to hold her. She shakes her head, her eyes big with surprise at being pushed to the ground. She glances at me, her face growing more serious. I have no idea what she’s going to say. I didn’t touch her, but she’d been all over Wyatt in her effort to stop him. My gut cramps. It’s not cool that she’s lying there. We’re huge in comparison to her and together, we could have seriously injured her. Knocked her out. We’d been so intent on hurting each other, we didn’t give a shit about the collateral damage we could cause.
She nods and takes the hand Wyatt has on her arm. “I’m fine. It didn’t hurt me. Just surprised me.”
Wyatt is squatting near her and he takes her arm and helps her up. He wipes her backside and handles her with complete care. She jerks her arm from his hand. “You two morons! I wish I was hurt so maybe it would put a dent in your stupid, alpha-male, macho competition and all the other bullshit!”
Wyatt glances at me. I stand there silent. I add, “I’m sorry, too. I didn’t mean for you to fall.”
“Neither did I!” Wyatt snaps before he softens his tone. “I should have backed off. I’m sorry.”
“What’s the problem between you two?”
“He was mumbling shit about me.”
“So?” Dani shakes her head. “So what if he mumbles stuff about you? You’re an ass to him. I’d mumble stuff about you, too. But going after him like that? Wyatt… please… what is wrong with you?”
“Wait. You think I’m in the wrong?”
She nods, her eyes growing bigger with genuine concern. “Completely. But you won’t even pause for one moment to figure out why.”
Wyatt glares at her, his nostrils flaring. He does not like what she said. He turns and stomps off. “I just can’t deal with this shit.”
“Oh, that’s helping a lot,” Dani calls after him. Her head is shaking, and her hair falls over her shoulder. She bites her lip, watching Wyatt stride away in anger. Minutes later, his truck fires up, and per his usual dramatic exit, Wyatt has gravel flying as he speeds out of there.
“Did you somehow imagine Wyatt would help? He’s too jealous.”
Dani huffed. “Jealous?” She turns her attention from watching his retreating taillights back to me.
“Sure, he doesn’t like sharing his parents with me. As if they’ll trade him in for the newer shiny black kid? How much sense does that make?”
She squints at me. I think she’s on the verge of turning to me in anger and now she’s deciding if she should yell at me, too. I give her a small smile, trying to encourage her not to. I know she thought I was going to say Wyatt’s jealousy was about her. I don’t think Wyatt ever noticed that I look at his girlfriend way too often, and she blushes and won’t meet my gaze all too frequently. Of course, we don’t interact much in front of Wyatt and he wasn’t at the café to see some of our subtle flirting.
So yeah, I might think highly of her. But I don’t of him. There might be something to see about me and Dani, if Wyatt ever bothered to look. But he didn’t think it was possible that his girlfriend would give a guy like me a second look. I’m not good enough. As he thinks his parents shouldn’t try to help me. So, the jealousy seems to be more about his parents, and not his incredible girlfriend.
“He’s never reacted like this to anyone before. I’ve never seen him behave like this.”
“I hope not, or I’ll seriously have to doubt your taste. Imagine if he figured out you don’t hate me.”
She shakes her head. “Okay, there are signs it could be tied to his parents.”
“He doesn’t seem to understand he’s the lucky one and goes after me like I am somehow superior.”
“That’s a good point. I’ll try and talk to him.”
“Don’t. He’ll just start to believe you might not hate me and then you won’t be able to talk to me without another display of that territorial shit.” I nod towards the spot where Wyatt and I almost went at it.
“What? You were right there with him! Doing the same macho bullshit! You were a half a second from punching him.”
I grin. She blinks and frowns at me. “Why are you grinning? I’m insulting you. I hate blatant displays of stupidity and shit and proving that misogyny is such a waste because males cannot be any smarter than females.”
“I was grinning because you’re right. I’m aware of that. But there’s no way I’m going to be challenged with what Wyatt just did and back down.”
She tilts her head, making her crazy curls slide to the side. “Exactly! Macho bullshit. Idiots. Neanderthal brains!”
“Uh-huh. Exactly. And how do you think I survived my life? By being nice and a pushover? No. I became bigger and badder than anyone else. So, no matter how hard they tried, they could no longer hurt me.”
She instantly, like always, closes up and grows contrite. Her gaze bounces all around the building and lands anywhere but on me.
“I didn’t… know… that.” Her words sound breathless. I keep my eyes off of her now. Embarrassed I admitted anything. I shrug. “I didn’t end up living on the streets because I was bored. Or because at fifteen I was hell-bent on shunning society and its norms. I just needed something different. Better. This? How I live now is better.”
“You’re very intelligent.” Her head tilts as she considers me.
“I’m not stupid. But why do you say that?”
She shakes her head. “I don’t know your story. I gather it involves no parents, no protection. There was abuse from someone or maybe many people. I get that. You’ve given that much away. But instead of falling into violence or self-medication or turning into an abuser, as the cycle so often goes, you completely changed it. You flipped the cycle on its head. You left. You stayed sober. You probably had no money either. Too young for a career, and no schooling, but you found a way to survive. To not be homeless. To not be a bum or a runaway. You took it all under your own rules and even created your own label.” Her gaze is running over me, and her eyes are bright and shining. I glue my gaze on a hook I see on the barn wall, over her shoulder lest I fall head over heels into the sincerity and depth and beauty of her face… her eyes… her voice… and her personality.
“So, you became a traveler. You decide where you sleep. And how you survive. You’re smart and you knew if you didn’t change the cycle, you’d become part of it. Repeating the same bad pattern over and over again. But you loathe the cycle you had to endure. Instead of repeating it, you slashed a straight line through it, didn’t you?”
She’s never spoken that much to me before. Nor been so intimate. She stares at me. Her mouth is half open, and her tongue touches her bottom lip. I don’t believe she meant to say all that and it slips out as fast as she thinks it.
I lean down and finish picking up the tools, putting them in the drawers Ryder took them out of. He keeps most of his tools in three different large, red tool chests with sliding drawers. I need a moment to settle my racing heart and thoughts. No one’s ever articulated that to me or said that about me. Especially when knowing so little about me. No one has ever been so exactly right about where I came from and how I changed my path, and why.
“Wesley?” Her voice is soft and kind and so feminine. It evokes strong reactions in me. My nerve endings often feel raw, as if they become tiny points, when she comes near. There is something about just catching a glimpse of her that makes me aware of every single step she might take, or twist she might do, or word she says, and every laugh that escapes her mouth. Everything that encompasses Dani Dawson feels hyper-magnetized for me.
“Well, I guess you’re not dumb either.”
She grins when I finally answer her. Her shoulders slump. What? In relief?
“Did you think I was going to get mad?” I inquire mildly, turning towards her.
“Yes,” she smiles. “I did. I thought you’d lash out, not liking anyone to know anything about you. You sure don’t tell anyone a thing. Not even your last name. So, I doubt if what I just said could make you feel comfortable.”
“No. It didn’t. And I don’t.”
“Wyatt doesn’t see any of that. He’s just trying to protect his mom more than anything. I think this hatred is more about Tara. He thinks you’re going to hurt her. Leaving here without notice. Robbing them. I don’t know.”
“Tara. Yes, Tara is a surprise in all this. What about you? What do you think I’m going to do?”
“You mean, do I think you’re going to rob them just because you stole from Mrs. Carson?”
“Yeah,” I say, keeping my tone neutral. I tense. For some reason, it feels way too important to know how she’ll answer me.
“I don’t. I don’t think you’re going to do that. I think you had a reason. You did it for that reason, one you believed greater than the wrong you did. I think you believe Tara and Ryder are doing right by you, and that they’re being far more generous than you think you deserve. And by fighting Wyatt, you’re kind of fighting yourself.”
I step back, my eyes growing larger. “You think I’m working through the anger I feel for myself with your boyfriend?”
“I do,” she says meekly. Though she speaks that way, her tone is soft and melodious.
“It couldn’t be just that he’s an entitled prick that I don’t like?”
She snorts. Ruining the effect. “Well, it could be that, too. My explanation just makes you more sympathetic.”
“Sympathetic? I don’t need your sympathy.”
She smiles again with that soft little upsweep at the sides of her mouth. “What every jacked-up guy on his own ego would say just now. And why wouldn’t you want it?”
She’s reasonable. Hard to argue with. I smile back. “Let’s pretend I’m in need of your sympathy and I’m fighting with myself and not Wyatt’s prickish attitude. Then what? We could be friends? That’s what you’re doing, right? If it’s not actually about Wyatt, you can like me? Otherwise, aren’t you going behind his back and not being a good, faithful girlfriend?”
She folds her arms over her stomach. “Maybe. But I don’t have to support anyone unless I want to.”
I lift my hands as if I’m giving up. She lets out a small laugh. I go to finish my chores. When I’m done with the cleanup, I’m standing next to Dani when Ryder and Tara walk in. Luckily, they are clueless that Wyatt and I almost went at it like two rabid dogs.
“I got a hold of my guy at the machine shop. He said to bring the boat by right now and he’ll start the weld on it. So, we’re going to take it in,” Ryder says.
“Yeah. I’m done in here.”
Ryder glances around. He comes up to me and puts a hand on my shoulder. I flinch in surprise. “Thanks, Wesley. That was great. Much appreciated. You made it go twice as fast for me and saved my back from severe pain at several points.”
“You’re welcome,” I say quickly. I turn from him, eager to get his hand off me. Not because I’m annoyed he’s touching me but because I think I like the praise more than I should. The squeeze of gratitude. The fucking approval for a job well done.
Then Ryder pulls out his wallet and starts to grab a fistful of twenties. I put my hands up, as a signal to stop. “Nah. Don’t worry about it. It was good experience for me to learn something new. You never know when I’ll need to hoist an engine from a roof,” I grin, turning and trying to pretend it’s no big deal.
“Yeah, probably never. Let me pay you. It’ll get you what you want much quicker.”
“Really, Ryder, it’s no big deal.” I shrug and walk towards the workbench, fiddling with a bottom drawer. I’m doing nothing. Everything is put away, but I hope they don’t know that. I can’t make eye contact, and I just want him to leave it alone. I’m almost offended by the offer of money.
They all are looking at me. Ryder’s foot scrapes on the concrete floor, and he’s obviously moving. “All right then. Well, seriously, thank you.”
They duck into the cab of his truck, the boat already hitched to it, and drive off.
I watch the boat clear the barn door opening as they tow it down the long driveway. It bounces on its trailer with miscellaneous squeaks, leaving Dani near me. She’s looking up at me. I can feel her gaze hardening on my face. I don’t glance down.
“You’ve never had parental-type approval, have you?”
“What? Whatever,” I reply with a grunt. I’m aware that it is exactly as she says. She knows it. I know it. Yet, here I pretend. Guys really are stupid, I argue in my head. Macho bullshit I won’t easily admit.
“It’s not shameful. It’s not something you could help, obviously. And it is nice. In fact, it can be the best feeling.” Her voice follows me as I walk out of the barn and into the bright afternoon sunlight. It’s blinding. The temperature is hot. The air is dry and pleasant. The smell of hot, spicy dirt fills my nostrils. It’s wonderful. The bright blue sky overhead, and the mountains black and hulking over the river with every variation of green in the trees, bushes, and grasses filling the scenery from the river to where I stand.
She follows, of course. Offended. Talking as she rushes towards me. “Hey! Ignoring me doesn’t change the answer or reality. You’re acting like a baby about this.”
“I’m the baby? Have you ever met someone named Wyatt Kincaid?”
She sighs in exaggeration, stopping just behind me. Damn, I have to discreetly step away. Her small stature should not affect me if she were taller and wider and bigger than she is. But she does.
“Wyatt is afraid of losing his parental approval. God! Don’t you see you two are fighting over Tara?”
“Why would he need to fight over his own mother? A stepmother who treats a kid like she does Wyatt? I’ve never seen it and that’s one thing I have seen a lot of, broken families, but rarely do they ever turn out like this… the generosity and care Tara has for her stepson.”
“His mother was murdered, Wesley. He remembers when there was no mom in his life. He remembers the day he met Tara, and he feared she wouldn’t stay. That sticks with a kid. Then she ignores his opinion about you. Yeah, it’s a first for Wyatt. But for one second, just consider what it might be like for him with a stranger moving in where he never had to deal with that before. Your view on this is very different than ours. Granted, we are privileged and obviously you consider us brats. I see that. But we didn’t grow up in foster care, so it’s new to us. But it has shaken him up.”
“Fine. Poor Wyatt.”
She suddenly sucks in air and lets out a half-scream of frustration and stomps. “You are deliberately trying to be obtuse and difficult!”
I break into a huge smile and laugh. “I am, Dani. I totally am. I might mean it, however. But seeing you riled up is worth it. And look at that, all this fighting has finally made you quit being afraid to talk to me.”
“I’m not afraid!”
“You’re shy.”
“So? Not a crime.”
“Not now, though. Look at you screaming, yelling, stomping, and analyzing the strange robber who trespassed in your town. But other than the first night, you haven’t been afraid of me. Why is that?”
She relaxes her posture. Her smile is softer. “Okay, I guess your temper tantrums took away some of my anxiety about you. And all strangers are that way for me. But after I felt you jerk that pitchfork out of my hands, I instantly realized, as you said, you could have taken it at any moment. Any. You refrained from doing so until you felt cornered. You didn’t want to hurt me. I saw that then, as I do now.” She lowers her chin and voice with the last statement.
I want to step forward, take her chin in my hand, gently tilt her mouth up my way, and kiss her soft lips. The sw
eetness of it, of her, makes my heart ache. And it makes me want to kiss her, lean into her and also, snap at her, run away, and make sure she never knows. The hopelessness of it and the fact that it would humiliate both of us isn’t lost on me.
“I don’t,” I finally relent. “And I guess it isn’t so bad that Ryder and Tara don’t hate me and aren’t waiting for me to steal anything if I’m in their house alone. In fact, I don’t get why they are so trusting. I could walk away with a lot more objects of value than I have in my backpack. They have to know that, yet they seem to trust me.”
“They do. And I think that backpack means more to you than anything you could steal or buy. So yeah, you do have their trust, so don’t waste it. And I’ll work on Wyatt.”
God, please don’t, I want to turn and say. Instead, I smile and stay quiet. It’s important to her obviously, not to me. And I want her to keep talking to me, so I guess I’ll have to accept her loyalty to that dickhead Wyatt.
“You ever gone swimming in the Columbia River in the daylight?”
I turn to her, as the tone of her voice signals a change in the subject. We’re back to cheerful conversation, not too intimate or too close.
“That’s right. I forgot that. You saw me in my underwear.”
Her eyes go huge, and her mouth drops open as she shakes her head in mortification. “It was dark!”
“Not so dark you couldn’t see my face. You recognized me right off in the barn with your pitchfork. So, yeah, you saw me in my underwear.”
She puckers her lip. Annoyance nearly covers her embarrassment. She brushes her hands over her cheeks. “Fine. I saw you in your underwear. When you also almost drowned. I wondered how the hell I was going to swim out and save you before you died. Stupid thing to do by the way. So, believe me, you in your underwear was the last thing on my mind. It made zero impression on me.”
“It?” I tilt the edge of my mouth up.
I know what she meant, but I love the way her eyes grow large, and she slaps her hands to her cheeks as she turns away. Adorable. That is Dani. Every single thing she does or says, including the movement of her hands. She has adorable hands with little, bitty fingers and soft rounded nails that she often winds her curly flyaway hairs over. Especially when she’s distressed or nervous. Like talking about my underwear. And what’s in it.